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mechaknight-98 · 3 months

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Kozy (NSFW) FT: Karina

Dating a celebrity was hard. Dating a possessive celebrity is more so. You had known this by watching several friends fall for the honey trap. So you tried so, but God has a wild sense of humor you learned.

You met Karina while in between paleontology digs. She came to one of the seminars you were giving on dinosaurs and she knew then that she had to have you. She approached you after the seminar and said that she really “digs” the info you “excavated” for everyone present. You laughed at her puns and that's when she asked you out. Not knowing who she was you readily accepted her advances and two weeks later the two of you are officially a couple. A week after that you noticed a “change” in her personality. When Karina was on she was the flirty socialite who wowed everyone with her passion and precise performances. When she was off she was kind of a loser. An extremely loveable and hard-working loser but a loser nonetheless. For example, when she first met your black friend named Vladimir she said “Aye what's up homie? You got any fresh stories.” in her most awkward tone possible. It also didn't help that Vlad was the smartest person you knew and was often very at times particular about how he was spoken to, but he laughed it off and Karina was able to ease and relax her awkward speech tendencies. The puns never went away though. She also always had this nervous energy in her that kept her moving and bouncing you see a lot of that in her nonperformance videos. It was endearing and always made you smile. Despite all of her “loser energy” she was so loving and doting…almost overbearingly so, but you were her man and she was going to spoil you as much as you would let her which for your disciplined ass wasn't much. You spent a lot of time traveling and helping with paleontology digs. Which led to what unfolded tonight

You arrived back at your small apartment where you and Karina would secretly retreat to. It wasn't big but considering the price of things it couldn't be helped. You open the door. You chuckle when you see Karina in her undies playing through Kingdom Hearts 2. A couple of soju bottles sit in front of her. She turns when she hears the door open and a smile quickly replaces her focused grimace.

“Oh babe good you're here I need help with beating Luxord,” Karina says to you

“Rina, you started this game a week ago how are you already at Luxord?” you asked concerned

“Well we just finished promotions and I needed something to do. Also aren't you the one who beat Persona 5 Royal in an unbroken marathon of 6 days?” Karina says teasingly. You chuckle as you nod at your girlfriend. Your eyes wander her body her curves look vivacious. You sit next to her and she burps. She turns to you and hands you the controller.

“You know sometimes I forget how sexy you are,” you say to her as you blitz through Luxord’s game boss fight. Karina smiles at you as she begins to kiss you intensely. You make sure to pause the game so you don't lose progress. You also set the controller down away from you. After that, your fireman carry Karina the your shared bedroom. Karina is all giggles as she loves being manhandled by you. When you lay her on the bed her eyes are narrow and hungry.

“You wearing too many clothes.” She says as she rips your shirt and pants off. You groan as you remember how expensive these all were. Karina sees the dejected look and quickly moves to reassure you.

“Oh babe I'm so sorry I got caught in the moment.”

“It's okay I forget you have the strength of gods sometimes,” you say Karina smiles and apologizes again for messing up your clothes. You forgive her as she starts leaving a trail of kisses down your abdomen.

“I'm going to devour you tonight,” Karina says seductively, “our schedules have been so busy and disconnected but that ends tonight. This cock is mine for the night.” you let Karina do her thing as she begins to suck. Before she can get really into though you get a call. Karina's eyes widen mischievously

“Answer it,” she says coming up f94 air. You eye her but she remains firm. As she pushed you onto the bed. “I said answer it,” she says before pinching your cock. To stop the minor pain you do as she asks. She goes back to kissing your cock.

“Yeah, this is Max. What's up?” you say.

“Oh good to hear you Max we just confirmed that the skull you found was a new skull of a dinosaur no one has ever found before. So Danger suggested that you name it.” your friend Galavant said excitedly. Karina excited for you sank her throat down further than she had ever taken it before. She gagged on your cock which was a new sensation you weren't used to.

“Oh well, that eh great. Gally. I'll have to think of a name later because right now I'm a bit preoccupied.”

“Okay well just wanted to let you know fearless leader that your research is going down in the history books with this one.” you chuckle as a feeble attempt to hide your moans. galavant figuring what going on hands up the call then you moan louder

“God Karina your so bad.” you huff as she continues to work your cock. Her cheeks are hollow as she takes another deep breath before throating you. “I need more,” Karina says as she goes deeper and deeper on your cock. You groan as no partner has taken you this far before, and in a second she bottoms out. Her face is reaching your pelvis as she looks up at you with a smile and a ruined face of makeup. She begins to bob up and down only retreating halfway before engorging herself once more. Tears streak her eyes as she takes you in. As she bobs around your cock her pace increases inching you closer and closer to release. Before she gets a call from her business phone. She tries to ignore it but it keeps going. So frustrated she answers it.

“Yeah. Oh, wait I got the deal?” she says as her body language and fine shifts from annoyed to excited “No I'll be there in 30 minutes.” she says. “Great see you then.” she hangs up then says “shit”

She looks at you then apologizes

“So honey that was SM I just got a call confirming I got the Pucci Korea ambassador gig.” you smile and clap for her. Which makes her do a little happy jig.

“So do you want to shower and then head out?” you ask.

Karina sighs and says, “yeah but as soon as I'm done were finishing this.”

you nod and respond, “remember to take your time don't get overzealous.” Karina rolls her eyes and says

“I know.”

#kpop fanfic #male reader #fanfic #aespa kpop #karina #karina smut #aespa karina #aespa fanfic

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ameliablakesblog · 5 months

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Let the Consequences Be Damned- Lando Norris

Happy Day 1 of Smutmas!!!!

Lando Norris x Fem! Reader Words: 2.3k Warnings: Swearing, SMUT 18+ (Minors DNI), Masturbation (Male & Female), Semi-Public sex (if you squint) Summary: He shouldn't want her, she was his PR Manager, if anything happened there would be consequences. But what happens when she finds him in a compromising position? A.N: Here's day One! Hope you like it :) Make sure to follow along for the rest of the 12 Days of Smutmas!!

Lando couldn’t stop thinking about her.

His PR manager. The woman sent from the devil himself to make his life a misery.

Y/N was stunning. From the way she smiled to the way the room would literally light up the moment she stepped in. Lando was hooked.

And he couldn’t do anything about it.

Here he was, sat in the meeting room supposedly listening to the media planning for the upcoming month. Yet his eyes would naturally draw to her opposite him. She’d gone for her own clothing today rather than the papaya uniform, but to be honest even if she wore nothing but a cotton rag, she’d still be the most stunning woman on the planet in his eyes.

Today she had obviously decided to ruin Lando’s mind. Wearing a grey mini dress with some black heels, she looked like sex on legs.

He couldn’t take his eyes off her. He cursed McLaren for having glass tables as he was able to notice everything. He noticed the way she’d run her palms down her thighs when she was speaking, or the times her thighs would clench together as she repositioned herself into a more comfortable position.

Every time she moved, her dress would ride up a little higher on her thigh and Lando had to restrain himself from leaning forward to get a peek. He wondered what underwear she was wearing. Was it a thong? Was she even wearing one?

God, he shouldn’t be thinking about this.

He was at work for Christ sake. And now he was hard as a rock.

He shuffled in the chair to try and conceal his hard-on before dragging his eyes away from her to the meeting board. On the screen was statistics or something, numbers were never Lando’s strong suit. He let his mind wander, trying to think of subjects not related to his PR manager who was now biting a pen.

Fuck.

It wasn’t supposed to be seductive, but how come everything she did turned him on?

He decided to think about Twitch. Maybe he could stream tonight? But what game?

Suddenly, a thought of Y/N on her knees underneath his desk came to mind. He let his mind wander to the thought of her sucking him off while he played his games. He could practically see it. Her messing with her tits while she took him in her mouth all the way. The noises she’d make when she’d tug on her nipples and the way she’d let him cum on her tongue.

The noise he let out sounded agonising.

The room went quiet.

Fuck. Did he really moan out loud?

He looked up to all eyes on him, including Y/N’s. She stared at him; eyes wide- almost knowing?

He looked away and to the others in the meeting. He needed to leave. If he stayed in this room much longer, with the thoughts he’s having, he’d probably end up making a twat out of himself.

“I’m sorry, I’ve got to-to leave, I’m not feeling good” He stood up abruptly and started to make his leave, it was an obvious lie, but he didn’t care. He needed to go jerk himself off- it was the only solution so he can get on with the rest of his evening.

He started wandering the corridors, searching for a quiet place. It was fairly late at the MTC, so it was mostly quiet, which Lando appreciated. He couldn’t think of anything worse right now than talking to people, when whenever he closed his eyes, he could just keep seeing the image of Y/N sucking him off.

He stopped his walking and groaned. He’d thought about it again. His hard-on was throbbing underneath his jeans, and he had to give it a discreet squeeze to ease the pain.

He couldn’t wait much longer, to his right was a seminar room which after knocking- he found empty. He shut the door and quickly made work of his trousers and boxers. His erection slapped his abdomen and he hissed at the feeling. He let his mind wander carelessly this time as his hand stroked his cock. He gave himself a harsh tug and whimpered at the thought of Y/N bent over the desk. Him fucking her over the desk and the noises she’d make. Would she moan loud?

He continued to fuck his hand faster, imagining it was her hand instead of him. His breathing erratic and head thrown back against the chair. He was in his own world, groaning at the filthy thoughts of his PR manager.

Unbeknown to him, Y/N had shortly left after Lando. She was concerned about him. She knew he hated meetings, yet he always endured them for her. But today with the way he left so quickly had her worried. Plus, the moan? What was that about? Did statistics really turn him on?

So she followed him down the hallways, he seemed fine- although very rushed. When he stopped suddenly you halted, maybe he didn’t want to speak to her? Even though she was his PR manager; it didn’t mean he needed to tell her how he was feeling. When he quickly darted into the room next to him and slammed the door, she let the worries slide. Something was wrong, maybe she could help?

She moved to the door and went to knock when she heard another moan. That was definitely a moan, right? She started questioning the noises she had heard from the driver this evening. The noise she had just heard sounded pleasurable; but the one earlier sounded almost in pain?

When she heard Lando moan her name she jumped back from the door.

Was that her name? she could feel the area between her legs start to pulse at the thought of what Lando could be doing in there.

It should be wrong, having a crush on Lando. She made the decision when she got the job that she’d never risk her job.

But then she just heard him moan her name again.

Consequences be damned, she needed to know what he was doing. Maybe she had read the situation wrong, maybe something bad had happened, maybe Lando was calling her name because he was in pain.

She opened the door a crack to allow herself to see in. She gasped at the sight of Lando; sweaty and flushed as he jerked his cock while moaning. She could feel herself becoming wet and for a moment contemplated walking away- this was a private moment; she shouldn’t be spying on this.

But then he whimpered and rolled his thumb over the tip of his cock, collecting his precum before using as lubrication to fuck up into his hand. All those previous thoughts left her mind as she entered the room, closing the door and locking it. Lando hadn’t seen her enter and she bit her lip at how submissible he was.

Time to have some fun.

Lando was in a world of his own. All he could think about was Y/N. His mind racing through images of him fucking her. He whimpered at the idea of her moaning his name. His eyes opened lazily to watch himself fuck his hand. But when he saw Y/N stood opposite him he jumped back in surprise. His hand paused his movements as he stared at her. She wasn’t directly looking at him per say, she was focused on the grip he had on his cock. He whimpered from her gaze. From the way she was looking at him all he could see was lust and he jerked slightly into his hand at the possibilities of what could happen now.

Y/N lifted her gaze to match his and she bit her lip. Her glossed lip rolled between her teeth and Lando was so caught up in watching them he almost missed Y/N bending down slightly. He watched the way her hands crept under her dress and up towards her centre, fascinated on the way she pulled down her pink thong to the floor. She stepped out of it before picking it up. Her lip stayed between her teeth as she looked at her thong before looking over towards him. Lando couldn’t breathe. He had started to stroke his cock again without realising but now he couldn’t have stopped even if he wanted to. He watched Y/N walk over to him before situating herself between his legs. She placed her hands on his things before bringing them up towards his shaft, scratching her nails up his legs on the way. He jerked at the feeling, eager to feel her hands on the place he craved. When she stopped to look at him, silently asking for his permission- he could’ve finished right then.

She smiled innocently before licking a strip up his shaft. He moaned at the feeling. Anyone could’ve heard him with how loud he was being, but he didn’t care. Y/N had just wrapped her glossy lips around his tip and started to push down, hollowing her mouth to take him further in her mouth. He threw his head back, trying to control himself. All he wanted to do was take control and fuck her mouth senseless, but she had the upper hand- he was completely in her mercy. She continued to bob her head, letting her hand stroke the area she couldn’t fit. He heard her moan and looked down, jaw going slack at the sight in front of him. She was looking up at him while sucking on his tip, but her free hand was between her legs. She was fucking herself while giving him head. He bucked his hips up at the thought, causing her to gag slightly. He should’ve felt bad, but the noise sent him closer to the edge.

He could hear the noise of her wetness between her legs, the muffled moans she was making around his cock and the noise of her finger fucking herself was pushing him closer to his orgasm. He lifted his head, looking down at Y/N. She was always stunning, but like this, with her eyes closed from the pleasure and the way she took his cock almost greedily. He had never seen anyone so beautiful.

“I’m close” He grabbed her hair, making a make-shift ponytail and pulling slightly. She opened her eyes but didn’t pull away. In fact, pulling her hair seemed to challenge her more, as she sucked harder before pushing him further into her throat. He groaned loudly, bucking his hips up. He felt himself hit the back of his throat and he felt himself cum.

God it was amazing, his head slammed back against the chair, and he could feel himself panting. Mouth open while she continued to lick him threw his orgasm. He felt her stand on wobbly legs, so he acted fast; pulling her down to sit on top of him. He looked up and she was smiling at him cheekily. He could feel her wetness on his thighs as he came down from his high, his hands moving to rub circles on her ass underneath the dress.

“Was that- Lando!” She had started to ask something, but he wasn’t going to answer. She hadn’t finished, he realised. He was quick to stand them both and push her against the table, ass bare and legs split so her could see all of her. She didn’t even try to stop him, pushing herself back so she could lie comfortably. He got down on his knees, but she didn’t allow him the time to marvel at her. She grabbed his hair and pulled him closer to where she wanted him. He laughed slightly before going in for the kill. He had dreamt of this for so long, he wasn’t going to waste the chance he’d got.

He licked a strip up her cunt before focusing on her swollen clit. God she was soaked. All for him too. He sucked hard, loving the way she moved to put both her legs over his shoulder, trapping her against him. He pushed a finger inside her, groaning at how tight she was. She felt perfect, and the noises she was making- his cock was already growing hard again. She squirmed against his fingers while he continued to dominate her clit, clenching in need for more stimulation. He pushed another finger in, eliciting a cry from her stunning lips. He pulled away to gauge her reaction and groaned at the sight. She was playing with her tits, like he’d dreamt of. She was arching her back while playing with her nipples.

Not wanting to keep her waiting he dove in again, he curled his fingers inside her, feeling her grind against his face. She was close, he could feel it in the way she was clenching around him, her wetness dripping down her thighs onto the carpeted floor. He’d never be able to have a meeting in this room again without getting turned on.

“Please Lando, please” She was begging. God he loved the sound, he moaned in reply and bit her clit. It sent her over the edge and she cummed hard. His name falling from her lips in chants as she writhed on the table. He cleaned her up the best he could before standing, dropping her legs from his shoulder. She hadn’t moved, eyes lazily watching him. She went to pull her dress up back over her boobs but stopped when Lando stood between her legs. His once again, hard cock stood proud as he pushed it over her sensitive pussy. She jumped at the feeling but didn’t complain so he looked up. He moved to bend over her so they were face to face, his cock nestled comfortably against her folds, like a silent dare.

He could feel her fast breathing against his lips, her nipples grazing against his clothed chest. They stared at each other, no one making a move.

They both knew the consequences of their actions, but they didn’t want to deal with them right now. For now, they had each other, and Lando certainly wasn’t going to allow them to think about the consequences.

#formula 1 #formula one #formula one x re #lando norris x reader #landonorris #landonorrissmut #romance #reading #lando norris #lando norris angst #formula one smut #f1 2023

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rosen-und-mondlicht · 2 years

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#bugbear boyfriend #d&d monk #d&d ocs #d&d oc art #feeling somewhat angsty even tho there's no playing tomorrow #im going to a work conference in Minneapolis tomorrow with the entire nation's industry #we're going to see everyone in the surrounding area in my industry on one single plane so im happy to see some familiar faces #but also no session weh #wanted to vent some angst about my monk while getting ready to lose her soon #she's at 41/64 hp and 1 ki point so.....yeah #we went through a hard battle and we lost a party member but we brought her back at the end #but we still haven't encountered the big bad yet and jesus christ we're fucked #im going to badger the dm all week in between seminars at the conference #but as the sole woman in this group of men in a single airbnb i know imma lose it #thankfully i managed to get mystery skulls tickets while we're there #happy coincidence #but I'll fucking take it and then I'll see him again in two weeks in Charlotte ayyyy lmao #anyway if she actually dies then her boyfriend will become my next character #hes got good stats over all but sucks at dex but thats ok #hes a samurai not a ninja so we can work with that #and because hes a bugbear i get extra stats in reach and aggression so yay #but also! A N G S T ! !#i really wanted to show off the chest scar from the wild fey diamond they used to bring her back to life #shewas brought back because she was killedoff in the second session and the dm felt bad so he allowed it just the once but no more revivals #i have missed using markers and this sketchbook is fucking superb for this medium 100/100 would recommend

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cupid-styles · 8 months

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lace (grumpy!h)

in which Harry is grumpy and mean to Y/N, who's just shy and trying to get through the day, and they're both teaching assistants for the same class.

word count: 4.9k

content warnings/author's notes: h being a dick, grumpy h x soft girl trope <;3 part two will be posted a week from today!

masterlist | talk to me |

part two | part three

Y/N thinks Harry hates her.

Which is kind of silly, really, because they didn't even know each other prior to being assigned as teaching assistants to the same literary seminar. They roam in two completely different circles and never would have crossed paths if not for the fact that Y/N is an English major and Harry got an A- in the course last year.

Y/N's initially really excited that Professor Donnolly asked her to be one of her TAs. At their first one-on-one meeting together, she lets Y/N know that there will be one other TA this semester since it's such a large class, but this isn't concerning to her. She's quiet and introverted and an expert at keeping to herself, and she's far more focused on helping students in the seminar and building up her resume.

So, she's generally pretty careless about the whole thing until Harry strolls in on the first day. He's dressed in all black, a tattered band tee decorating his torso, inky tattoos covering his arms, and a coffee in hand. He doesn't even have a backpack with him, which Y/N finds weird — she'd spent the previous night printing out worksheets and contact information for her batch of students, all of which were neatly filed in a folder in her bag.

He plops down next to her at the front of the lecture hall and pulls his phone out. Y/N isn't typically very nosey, but she can't help that as she sits there, anxiously awaiting for the class to begin, she notices just about 20 missed texts lighting up his screen. She doesn't think she receives that many messages in a week.

Because she's shy, she's hesitant to introduce herself, but maybe he doesn't realize there's another TA for the course despite sitting down right next to her. So she clears her throat and nervously picks at a loose string on her knitted cardigan before mustering up the courage to say something.

"Hi," her voice is scratchy since it's the first time she's said anything all morning, aside from ordering an iced vanilla latte at the on-campus cafe, "I'm Y/N. Are you the other TA for this semester?"

Harry peers up at her with a glaring look. His eyes are so piercing that it almost makes her jump under his gaze.

"Yeah, I'm Harry. Please don't continue this conversation, I'm hungover."

Y/N's jaw snaps closed at his bluntness, a warm blush encasing her entire body. She's so embarrassed that it physically hurts — and it's enough of a reason to stay quiet every time she sees Harry, twice a week at the seminar.

Weeks go by and nothing changes, the pair seemingly fine with their lack of verbal communication. Every now and then they'll have to physically interact, whether it be passing papers or the one time Harry held the door open for Y/N when they were leaving the lecture hall. She's surprised he didn't purposely slam it in her face.

She'll admit, it bothers her just a tad, but it's just another facet of her personality — an incessant need to people-please — that she scribbles down in her planner as a reminder to bring up in therapy sometime soon.

On Tuesday after class has ended, she's packing up her things, her back to Harry when Professor Donnolly strolls over to their table, the sound of her pumps clacking against the tiled floor.

"Harry, Y/N, are you two available right now?"

In any other instance, Y/N would find a reason to be busy — her social battery is drained from today's workshopping class, where she went around discussing thesis statements with her assigned group of students — but this TA gig matters to her, especially after she did some online digging on Professor Donnolly and found out she has connections at multiple publishing firms Y/N could only dream of working at. So she sucks it up and bears herself for whatever her presence is needed for, even if it means being around Harry.

"I'm free," Y/N replies and Harry grunts out some form of affirmative answer.

"Great!" Donnolly claps her hands together, "So listen, I'm seriously behind in going through these outlines and they need to be graded and handed back by Thursday's class. Do you guys think you could make a dent in the stack this afternoon? You could use my office while I teach this next lecture."

The thought of sitting in an office alone with Harry sounds absolutely humiliating, but to her surprise, he's the one that agrees to it before she even has a chance to run it through her brain. She zones out while Donnolly hands Harry the keys to her office, providing instructions on where the papers and rubric are, before he's turning on his heel and heading in the direction of the English department. Y/N scrambles and throws her bag over her shoulder, her chunky oxfords squeaking as she rushes to catch up to Harry.

"You don't have to join me," Harry grumbles once she finally reaches him so they're walking side by side, "I'm perfectly capable of grading these outlines by myself."

With a wrinkle in her brow, Y/N hugs her backpack strap closer to her body. "She asked both of us, so I'm helping."

"Yeah, but she doesn't have to know if you duck out to do whatever shit you do in your free time. Volunteering with the elderly or summat."

He mutters the last part under his breath, but Y/N hears it. Pain quickly zips through her stomach but it's gone just as quickly as it entered.

"I don't volunteer with the elderly," is her final comeback, albeit mumbled as they reach Donnolly's office. Harry stuffs the key in the lock and twists the door open before flicking the lights on and zeroing in on the stack of papers on her desk.

"Right, well, you act like a fuckin' church mouse, so apologies if my assumptions are a bit off."

Y/N huffs and drops her bag on the cushiony couch. She doesn't even know Harry, so what gives him the right to talk about her like that?

"You're the one that told me not to talk to you on the first day," Y/N says pointedly, walking over to where he stands with the papers in hand, "I'm only doing what you asked of me. And don't call me a church mouse, you don't know anything about me."

She snatches the folder from him and halves the papers as he cackles from above. She can't help but notice that he towers over her, and it makes her swallow nervously.

"You took that seriously? Jesus, you need to lighten up. Haven't you ever been hungover before?"

Y/N rolls her eyes as she sits down on the couch, folding her legs so her skirt doesn't ride up. She digs in her bag for her favorite red pen, fetching it from her pouch of writing utensils.

"Oh wait, you probably haven't. Because you're a church mouse."

Y/N grits her teeth. She's never had someone care to provoke her this much and it's so annoying. Harry is so annoying!

"Can you please stop?" She says softly, removing the cap from her pen. "You don't have to be mean to me just because you don't like me."

"How do you know whether I like you or not?" Harry scoffs as he sits down at Donnolly's desk, "I don't even know you."

Y/N has to admit, that one hurts. So instead of responding, she swallows the lump forming in her throat and starts to read over Amanda Mai's outline.

Harry doesn't bother her again that day. In fact, he doesn't even say goodbye when he's done.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

The following weeks go similarly.

Donnolly stops them both after class with some ask of grading papers or outlines or otherwise, claiming that she thinks they work well together, which Y/N thinks is some cruel joke from the universe. Every time her and Harry walk the familiar route to her office in silence, she wonders what she did wrong in her life and what bullshit karma she's on the receiving end of.

At a certain point, she wonders if someone has made a voodoo doll of her just to torture her, especially when she thinks Harry's finally skipping one of their grading sessions together, only to find his tongue down some sorority girl's throat. He nearly pushes the girl off of him when he notices Y/N's unintentionally interrupted their makeout session. She holds back a snicker when she hears the girl ask what his problem is as she unlocks the door.

"Gotta go," Harry tells the girl lowly, brushing past her to follow Y/N into the office. The girl garbles out a surprised "what?" just as Harry's shutting the door and plopping down at Donnolly's desk chair.

It's quiet for a moment and Y/N debates saying anything, knowing that however she chooses to approach the situation — whether she ignore the confused, pissed off girl outside or comment on Harry's apparent distaste for her — he'll dole out some rude response.

She rolls her lips into her mouth as she passes him his half of the papers, eventually settling on, "You probably shouldn't bring your girlfriend to your job. It's unprofessional, I think, and you both could've gotten in trouble."

Harry chuckles dryly and Y/N immediately regrets her decision.

"Mind your business, little mouse." he mutters, but not before he utters something out under his breath. "She's not my girlfriend either."

Y/N nods slowly and lowers her eyes to the assignment in front of her. Today, they're working on editing the first drafts of the class' papers, which is guaranteed to take hours. She grimaces as she reads over Ty Baker's introduction, realizing that she has a hefty load of grading ahead of her.

When she pulls out her pencil case from her bag, she hears Harry scoff from across the room. Mentally, she hopes it's due to the poor writing he's reading, but she knows she's wrong.

"Do you always wear shit like that?" he sneers. A hot flush instantly pulverizes her body, making her feel embarrassed and self-conscious within seconds.

She doesn't reply, but of course — of course — Harry continues.

"I mean, seriously, how old are you? 23? 24? And you come to campus in little skirts and cardigans and those stupid Doc Martens. Are you trying to look half your age?"

Y/N swallows harshly, attempting to focus on the words on the page. If she ignores him, he'll stop eventually. Harry thrives on her attempting to fight back.

"Are you even gonna defend yourself?" Harry spits, leaning back in Donnolly's chair, "Kind of pathetic, really—"

Y/N's head snaps up, tears blurring her vision. She sniffles and looks at him, the embarrassment now overwhelming when his face falls, realizing that he's made her cry.

"Please stop," Y/N says in a watery voice, "You're just being mean."

Harry stares her down with low eyes, his raspberry lips slighted parted. She can feel his intimidating gaze even as she tries to redirect her attention back to Ty's draft, attempting to blink the salty tears away. She thinks she's made it through until a shudder racks through her body, a sad and involuntary quiver sounding from her chest.

The room is dead silent so she knows Harry hears it, and she wants nothing more than to dig a hole in the ground and bury herself alive. It would be better than having to face the fact that Harry made her cry over rude comments.

She braces herself for another tongue lashing but instead, he stands from the desk, grabs his things, and rushes out of the room, leaving Y/N sitting on the couch by herself with tear-stained cheeks.

She wonders if she's ever been this embarrassed before in her life.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Y/N spends the weekend wondering if she can ask Donnolly to transfer her to another section.

As she cuddles with her kitten, Ginger, on the couch, binge-watching episode upon episode of Love Island, she contemplates how to approach the situation.

"Ging, what do you think I should do?" she murmurs to the orange cat perched on her thighs, "He's kind of awful and he's so mean to me, I don't understand why. I never see him act that way with anyone else. I don't think I did anything to him."

Ginger meows.

"Okay, meow again if you think I should try to move to Donnolly's other seminar."

The kitten jumps off her legs and traipses to her food bowl. Y/N lets out a sigh and falls to the side face-first into a mess of throw pillows.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

On Tuesday morning, Harry is tired.

He stayed up way too late last night and Jenna wouldn't stop blowing up his phone, wondering where he was over the weekend and asking if he wanted to come over and hookup.

(It was a Monday for Christ's sake, and she clearly couldn't take a hint — if he hadn't replied to her last five texts, why on earth would he want to go and get his dick wet now?

He realizes that he's done worse, so he takes it back.)

He typically spends his weekends ambling through parties and bars with his mates. Jenna is just one of his current and most reliable hookups, and he clearly made a mistake by tonguing her in public last week while he waited for Y/N to unlock Donnolly's office. It had been a spur of the moment rendezvous — Jenna happened to be walking through the English department just as Harry was, and she surged towards him for a kiss that quickly grew to a heated makeout once she stuck her tongue in his mouth.

Harry was weak and rarely one to turn down a midday hookup, but the second he heard Y/N's clunky footsteps (those Doc Marten oxfords she wore were a dead giveaway), he tore apart from Jenna.

Because of their public snog session, he assumes that she thinks their arrangement is something more. And she couldn't be more wrong, because ever since Thursday afternoon, all he's been able to think about is Y/N.

He doesn't even know why. She's quiet and shy and the complete opposite of any girl he's ever been attracted to. She rarely even fights back when he tries to rile her up, which he thought would be fun, but then he went and made her fucking cry last week and now he feels like the worst person to walk the planet.

In hindsight, Harry knows he was a fucking dick to her on Thursday. He doesn't know what it is about her, but it annoys him that she's so shy. She's smart and pretty and sweet and he doesn't know why she doesn't see that, instead opting for quietness and soft smiles and a constant hope that no one will notice her.

Harry very much notices her, and it makes him grumpy.

So on Tuesday morning, he decides that he's going to attempt to make it up to her. He can't promise that he won't be rude, but when he makes his daily stop at his favorite coffee shop, he orders his own drink and hers, an iced vanilla oat milk latte. He hopes that she also didn't grab one before class but figures that at the very least, the effort would be appreciated. Maybe.

And Harry is actually kind of... nervous as he strolls into the lecture hall. He usually arrives a minute or two before class starts but today he's a whopping 10 minutes early, giving tight smiles to the students that wave hello to him. He's surprised that Y/N isn't there yet though he's never been this early before — maybe she likes to get there with five minutes to spare, even if she strikes him as an obsessively early type of person.

His eyebrows furrow when Donnolly enters the room and greets Harry with a grin, setting her things up at the podium. Clearing his throat, he tries to seem as normal as possible as he glances at the clock at the back of the hall.

"Where's Y/N?" he asks, turning to look at Donnolly.

The professor glances down at Harry, who's sitting at the TA table, his leg bouncing. He's clutching his own coffee cup and Y/N's is next to him, but now the plastic cup is beading with condensation and sweating onto the wooden desk.

"She's not feeling well today," Donnolly replies casually, her eyes peering over to the extra coffee on the table, "She said she'll try to make it to grading this afternoon, but I told her that wouldn't be necessary if she needs time to rest."

Harry coughs awkwardly and nods, ignoring the pang of guilt zip through his heart.

Donnolly purses her lips before clearing her throat and typing something on her laptop. "You have her number, right? I haven't had a chance to check on her but I want to make sure she's doing alright. Would you mind?"

"I don't have her number, no."

She hums and nods, "I just emailed it to you."

Harry goes to reply, but Donnolly is already clapping her hands to announce the start of class.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Harry can't stop staring at Y/N's phone number.

At this point, he knows he's being a total and utter weirdo. Donnolly gave it to him to check on her, but instead of texting her, he opens her email and stares at the 10 digits until they blur together. He types it in his phone twice but can't decide on what to say. He knows it doesn't have to be a big deal — he's never been this stressed over having a girl's number before! And besides the fact, this isn't even that kind of deal, it's Y/N.

Silly, stupid Y/N, who he can't stop thinking about, who he feels bad for being mean to, who he wishes came to class today so he could give her her dumb iced latte but instead had to throw out the melted, watered down beverage.

He doesn't text her, but he does the next logical step of looking her up on social media. Of course, her Instagram profile is on private and she hasn't posted on Twitter in five years. He tries to find any public trace of her online only to come up empty, so he groans and leans back against his pillows, pulls up the empty text thread and pastes her number in.

It takes him four rewrites and 10 minutes of agony to finally land on: Hey. Donnolly asked me to see how you're doing.

Harry wants to throw his phone across the room but he resists, instead clutching it tightly in his palm. It buzzes a moment later and he nearly yelps to see her number on his screen.

who is this?

"Oh my god," he grunts, slapping a hand over his forehead, "I didn't even say it was me!"

Grumbling, he quickly types back. It's Harry. She said you weren't feeling well.

He keeps the text thread up and watches as the speech bubble appears, then fades away. It happens three times before she replies.

yea I have a migraine. im fine thanks

Harry swallows. His mouth dries as he tries to figure out how he can continue the conversation but she's really not giving him anything to go off of. He can't say he blames her, though.

Do you need anything?

Again, the three dots pop up on his screen and disappear twice more.

no thank you

This time, he replies quickly: Do you think you'll be able to attend class on Thursday? If not, I can bring you the papers you have left to grade so you don't fall too behind.

He figures that's a decent response — maybe one that warrants more than three words, and he even wonders if it portrays his attempt to patch things up.

if i need anything im capable of doing it myself.

Harry sighs and locks his phone. He definitely deserves this.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

On Thursday, Y/N doesn't show up to class again.

And at this point, Harry is ready to call her up or text her, or even email her to demand some answers. He's not sure what answers he's looking for — she said she had a migraine on Tuesday, but how could she still be dealing with it two days later? — but he's annoyed that she's not here.

When class is over, Donnolly wordlessly hands her keys to him. He flashes her a tight small, dumps the rest of his coffee, and walks the short distance to her office, stewing in his anger. Had he really been that mean? He didn't think so; he knew he was a dick and yeah, he still regrets making her cry, but was it worth missing two days of class? She'll be so behind in grading, what's the point in even being a teaching assistant if she's just going to—

Harry's face wrinkles in confusion when he approaches the small office space, noticing that the lamp is already on, radiating a warm glow from the corner. The door is unlocked, too, which Donnolly never does.

"Go fuckin' figure," he mutters to himself, prepared to have to deal with some sort of English department break-in, when he pushes the door open to find Y/N inside, sprawled out across the blue velvet sofa with her pink cardigan bunched up over her eyes.

He's immediately perplexed, and he wouldn't know it's Y/N if not for those clunky Doc Martens on her feet. Instead of her usual Levi jeans or rotation of mini skirts, she's wearing leggings and a baggy t-shirt over her form, her hair tied up and flopped over her head.

He can't tell if she's awake or not, so he very quietly shuts the door behind him. Her lips part and she takes a deep breath, her hand flying up to her temples with a wince.

"Y/N?" Harry whispers, dropping Donnolly's keys on her desk.

"Leave me alone," she croaks, "Everything hurts, just shut up. Please."

Harry smiles gently as she tacks on a please at the end of her request. Something about her delicate state is very sweet, but it's quickly replaced with concern as he kneels down next to the couch.

"Are you okay?" he asks quietly, fingers itching to move the cardigan covering her face.

"No."

"What's the matter?"

"Migraine."

"Why are you on campus, then?"

"Stop asking me questions."

He does, allowing her to ruminate in the silence as he decides what he should do. It's but a minute or two more before she slowly moves the cardigan down her face, revealing tired, squinty eyes that stare up at Harry.

"I've missed two days of classes and I didn't want to miss anymore. I came to campus this morning and I couldn't even make it through my first one. Donnolly said I could rest in here."

"All from a migraine?" Harry presses, a bemused expression on his face.

"Yes. I get them from stress."

It's the most that she's spoken to him in days and he chalks it up to her disoriented nature. Her hair is a mess and her eyes are bleary, fatigue and pain apparent in her every move.

"Do you want to go home?" he asks. He doesn't know much about migraines, but his sister gets them sometimes and she always complains about his voice being too loud. He tries to keep his questions at minimal volume, teetering just above a whisper.

"Yeah, but I don't have a car and it's too bright outside to walk."

"I can drive you," Harry murmurs without a second thought, "My car is in the building lot."

"Isn't that a faculty lot?"

He rolls his eyes, "Are you really gonna harp on that right now?"

Y/N doesn't reply to this, instead trying her best to sit up, only to be met with a painful recoil. Harry jumps to keep her stable, his hands stretching out to steady her arms and keep her upright.

"Sorry," he quickly mutters, "Don't want you to pass out on me."

She nods, and that's how Harry knows she must be really sick. He scrambles up and digs his car keys out of his pocket, then grabs his sunglasses dangling from his tee-shirt.

"Here, you can wear these."

Y/N doesn't reply and his shoulders droop in concern, carefully reaching forward to place them over her eyes.

"Don't tell me if I look dumb." she mumbles, making him laugh.

"You don't. You look quite sweet, actually."

He ignores the compliment that seems to fall from his lips effortlessly, instead choosing to focus on getting her home safely. Harry grabs her backpack and swings it over his shoulder, "Do you need help getting up?"

With squinted eyes, Y/N looks up at him, nodding once. She looks so sad and it kills him, mumbling out an "alright" as he reaches his hands out to help her stand. Once she's on her feet, she's capable of moving on her own, clutching her soft cardigan in arms. He doesn't want to touch her any more without her permission, especially if she hates him as much as she acts. He may be a dick, but he'd never intentionally try to make her feel uncomfortable when she's in such a vulnerable state.

Together, they walk out of the building and to the parking lot, where Harry's navy sedan is parked. He wants to make a joke about her pointing out that yes, technically he left his car in the faculty lot, but she just looks so exhausted that he doesn't have it in him. Gently, he guides her to the passenger's side and unlocks the car, making sure that she gets in safely. When she does, he rushes around the vehicle, placing her bag in the backseat and starting the car.

"Where do you live, Y/N?" Harry asks quietly. She looks over at him in his black Ray Bans and a small smile quirks at his lips. He knows she would never be caught dead in this style of sunglass, but for the time being, he wants to take a picture on his phone so he never forgets the way she looks.

"On Maple." she grunts out as she tucks her arms into her cardigan. It's the end of summer, slowly crawling towards fall, but the daily temperature is still quite warm. He frowns and lowers the air.

"Do you have a roommate that can take care of you?"

"I live alone."

His frown deepens at this as he pulls out of the parking lot and down the road. Yes, they're in grad school, both fully capable adults, but she has to get lonely living by herself, didn't she? He's never seen her out at bars or parties, and if stress migraines are a persistent thing in her life, how does she typically get through them alone?

Harry lives a few streets over from Maple so he knows how to get there. She makes some grumbly noise to let him know that he's reached their destination, so he parks outside and turns the car off.

"I'll walk you in, if that's alright," Harry says. She pauses as she undoes her seatbelt, taking a moment to glance at him through the dark sunglasses.

"Okay. But only because I need you to carry my bag in and make sure I don't puke on the way to my bed."

"Sure," he murmurs, making quick work to follow her inside. He realizes he must look ridiculous, dressed in all black with her pastel pink bag looped over his shoulder.

Y/N's house is very... Y/N. He's not sure what he expected since he's never really wondered about her living conditions, but the one-bedroom apartment is small and cozy, filled with art and plants and candles. Her favorite colors — or what Harry assumes to be her favorites — are constant threads throughout the home, accents of light pink and forest green dancing through her kitchen on mugs and in her living room on throw blankets and pillows. She has a large vase of sunflowers on her coffee table and a sting forms somewhere in his body, wondering if someone — a romantic someone — gave them to her.

Harry notices a small cat toddle towards her, instantly pawing at her shoes as she kicks them off.

"Not now, Ging," Y/N mumbles, "Love you bunches, but 'm still sick."

"Ging?" Harry asks as he gently places her bag on the velvet green armchair in her living room. He picks the tiny kitten up and strokes the white patch on its head.

"Short for Ginger," she replies, turning to look at him. Her eyebrows raise behind the sunglasses when she sees that Ginger is already in Harry's arms, purring away at his pets. If she wasn't in so much pain, she would roll her eyes at the little traitor. "Um... I'm just gonna go upstairs and change and go to bed."

Harry nods, "Do you need anything?"

If she's being honest, Y/N hates going through migraines alone. She can't do anything by herself and she feels far more isolated and lonely than usual. In college, her roommate, Kelsey, was helpful and understanding, but Kelsey moved across the country after graduation. Besides her parents, Y/N doesn't have anyone else to help her in times of need like this.

"Yeah," she finally sighs, much to both her and Harry's surprise, "Can you... just stick around for a little? It's fine if you have things to do, but migraines give me a lot of anxiety and I... it helps to have someone here. Also, Ginger is lonely."

"Well, if Ginger needs company, then I'm more than happy to stay."

It's the first time he's ever made Y/N smile.

Read part two here :) | Read part three here :)

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dyns33 · 8 months

Text

The Scar

Another Miguel O Hara x female reader, with suspense !

Miguel had been acting weird for several weeks.

Ever since he had returned early from his seminar. In the middle of the night, he'd slipped into bed and kissed her like he hadn't seen her in forever.

It didn't bother Y/N. It had been a while since Miguel really touched her, according to him too tired from his work.

He had apologized that night, saying that he missed her, that he had asked to change his hours to spend more time with her, before repeating again and again that he loved her.

It was adorable, but it was also a bit weird.

There was something different about him, and Y/N couldn't figure out what.

The idea that he was cheating on her came quickly. Miguel was acting like a man who clearly had something to be ashamed of. Something bad.

Of course, all women would have been delighted to have their husbands look at them as he looked at her now. That their husbands come home early to cook dinner, give them a massage, listen to how their day went, kiss them passionately while whispering words of love in Spanish.

But it was really not in Miguel's habits.

Even at the start of their relationship, he had never really been romantic. Y/N remembered him telling her that it made sense for them to be together when they graduated, since they were both brilliant.

She liked to believe that he had loved her, at one point, then the routine had set in, and they had stayed together because it was easier.

All these gifts and kisses, it was really not normal.

It didn't take Y/N long to suspect that Miguel was having an affair with his colleague, Doctor Daniels. They had worked on a lot of projects, he talked about her often, and they went on business trips together.

She was beautiful, young and intelligent. Y/N didn't stand a chance against her.

Despite his promise to be here more often, there were always late nights when he came home. She imagined quickly that he was not always in the office, which she checked very quickly.

One evening, she woke up while he was getting dressed. He seemed embarrassed to see her in the hallway.

"Mi amor. Did I wake you up ? Forgive me, there was a problem in the office, a toxin leak, I have to go."

He kissed her so tenderly that Y/N wanted to cry watching him close the door.

A phone call to Alchemax was enough to know that there was no problem, and that nobody had called Miguel. Quickly checking, many of the dates and times were inconsistent with his schedule.

After pain and sorrow came anger. Knowing her husband well, Y/N knew there was no reason to stay and try to talk to him. So she took her things and went to stay in a hotel for the night.

She still wasn't asleep when someone knocked the next morning, and it was a surprise to see Miguel. Not only did he have no way of knowing where she was, she hadn't even thought he would be looking for her.

Visibly distraught, he took her in his arms as soon as she opened the door.

"Y/N ! Are you okay ? I came home and you were gone ! I was so scared, I thought… Why are you here ? Was there a problem Someone came to the house ? You…"

"There was no toxin leak."

"… What ?"

"There was no toxin leak in your office. Miguel, I know you're lying to me. I know you… I know you're cheating on me."

"What ?" he repeated again, looking as much annoyed as hurt. "No. Never ! I would never cheat on you, I love you ! I only love you."

"Please… I'm not stupid. You tell me you're going to work, and your office tells me you're not there. So where are you, uh ? What are you doing ? It's Why you've been so nice lately, so I don't get suspicious ? Because you're remorseful ? Because you're…"

"I'm Spiderman."

Y/N had heard of Spiderman, like everyone in Nueva York. A hero who could walk on the ceiling, and who fought crime.

Her first reaction was to laugh, then Miguel squirted a web from his handle that stuck a lamp to the wall and she agreed to listen.

He promised her that he had never cheated on her. He loved her more than anything, he would die for her, and he would never hurt her. The nights he was out and not working, he was saving lives. He hadn't told her, because he didn't want to worry her, or for her to take him for a monster.

"Okay, it's a bit special that you can pull stuff out of your arms and swing from building to building, but it's nothing monstrous."

"Actually… My DNA was altered on multiple levels, resulting in multiple physical changes."

"Is that why you look taller and more muscular ?"

"No. Yes ! I mean, a bit, but I'm not talking about that. It's… My teeth. My eyes, my hands, my legs…"

"I don't see anything weird with your eyes or your hands."

Since the beginning of their conversation, Miguel seemed really uncomfortable, but this moment was really the most complicated for him. His eyes were filled with fear as they turned red, he showed Y/N his sharp canines, and his fingernails turned into claws.

"…Wow. You look like a big cat."

"Amor, I don't look like a big cat." mumbled Miguel, blushing, lunging at her to tickle her when she tried to scratch his ear.

It could have ended there. Y/N would give everything for things to end there, because it was a very good explanation, Miguel loved her, he had promised her that there would be no more lies, and everything was fine.

A party organized by Alchemax and several glasses of champagne changed that, when Doctor Daniels approached with a strange smile, while Miguel had gone to the toilet.

"You and your husband look very happy."

"We are, thank you."

"Yeah. He didn't say that. We were happy too, you know ? The best years of my life. A real beast in bed, caliente. Then one day, nothing. He dumped me like trash. I guess he's found someone better. I thought it was nice to let you know."

"Mi amor ?"

Miguel watched her run away, not glancing at Doctor Daniels. He followed her easily, catching up with her in an alley and hugging her to calm her down, leaving her to hit him sobbing and screaming.

He hadn't heard what Doctor Daniels had said to put her in such a state, and when she repeated it to him, he seemed to go mad with rage. Because his honor was touched, but also because he couldn't bear to see Y/N cry.

"I'm going to kill her ! I've never had an affair with this woman, ever ! She's lying, she's crazy !"

"Don't lie to me." Y/N cried, still clinging to him.

"I swear to you, mi amor. Never. Not with her, not with anyone else."

In the following days, there were several elements that indicated that Miguel was telling the truth. First, there was no message exchanged between him and Doctor Daniels, despite the incessant assertions of the latter, who did not understand why she could not find them. No photo or video of them either.

At the office, no one thought they were more than co-workers who got along well. Miguel O Hara had the reputation of being a serious man, a little angry, selfish and focusing mainly on his research.

The only moment captured by Alchemax's surveillance cameras was when Doctor Daniels approached Miguel to ask him why they were no longer together, and if there was any chance they could see each other again.

Miguel remained cold, distant, politely asking her to leave him alone, repeating to her that there had never been anything between them, and that there never would be anything, because he only loved his wife.

This made Doctor Daniels laugh, who touched his arm, before trying to kiss him.

Jumping up from his chair, Miguel looked at her in disgust, forbidding her to approach him.

The incident trickled down to the bosses, which brought all the previous research and proved that Dr. Daniels had a little problem with her obsession with her colleague, who was not at all interested. She was fired.

This did not please her at all, and since she could not get her lover back, and had lost her job, Doctor Daniels insisted on destroying the married couple.

She called Y/N, texted her, followed her to work and home, telling her over and over that she'd shared Miguel's bed for years.

Maybe he never really liked her, because this guy was obviously not able to love anyone but himself, and he was too afraid for his reputation to admit it, but it was the truth.

"I can prove it !" cried Dr. Daniels hysterically, banging on Y/N's car window. "I know what he likes to eat ! I've driven his car before ! He told me about his brother."

"That's not evidence. Please leave me." Y/N begged her as she tried to start.

"He's got a scar on his back ! How do I know that, huh ? Miguel hates bathing, he doesn't undress in public, it's tiny because it was just a little fall from a horse when he was a kid. How do I know that ?!"

Y/N felt her heart race, as she tried to breathe normally, because indeed, Miguel had a scar, and hardly anyone knew about it. It was in the middle of his back, you could feel it by running your hand over his skin.

She then thought of two things.

Dr. Daniels wasn't lying.

And since his early return from his seminar and his change in behavior, she had passed her hand several times on her husband's back, without feeling this tiny scar.

In the middle of Miguel's back, there was nothing. Nothing at all.

Repeating this to herself, Y/N invited Dr. Daniels to come with her to the house, where Miguel was cooking dinner.

He was surprised to see them, and even more surprised when she calmly asked him to take off his shirt and show his back, while Daniels was screaming hysterically, ordering him to show them his scar and then confess.

He didn't look at the doctor once, his eyes fixed on Y/N, who was only looking at him as well. In his eyes, she could see that he understood why, why Daniels was asking this, but more importantly why Y/N was asking this. He knew that she knew.

Without saying anything, he obeyed and turned around. Dr. Daniels then stopped screaming, freezing.

The back was perfect, tall, muscular. In addition to the noticeable lack of a scar, Y/N noted that he was much taller and more muscular than before, before all of this.

"Well…" Miguel muttered as he got dressed. "Happy ? Excuse me, but I'm only showing the rest to my wife. If you could leave us now."

"I… I don't understand. You had a scar."

"I never had a scar. I never had a relationship with you."

"It's not… You… I think I need to sleep. Excuse me." stammered Doctor Daniels before quickly leaving, leaving them alone.

They stayed like that for a long time, face to face in the kitchen, neither moving nor speaking. Then Miguel sighed, visibly tired and sorry.

He hadn't lied. Not even once. He had simply omitted to say that he wasn't really Miguel, or at least not her Miguel, and that he wasn't the Spiderman of this universe, but of another.

He had seen an opportunity to be happy, after losing his Y/N, and now that her Miguel was gone. Her horrible Miguel, as he called him, who didn't see how lucky he was, who had never known how to treat her right, and who didn't deserve her.

"But I know." he whispered as he approached, shyly taking her hand. "I know I'm lucky to be with you. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, the only one. I can't live without you. I thought… Maybe you'd be happier without him, that it would be a relief to hear of his passing. But I also thought I could give you all the things he should have given you. I can leave if you want. I love you."

For several weeks, Y/N had been very happy, showered with love and kisses. She had been afraid of being cheated on, but that was no longer the case, not with this Miguel, who loved her.

So she forgot that there had always been a small scar on her husband's back, and she kissed him, telling him that she loved him too.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara fanfiction #acros the spiderverse

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canarycolemine · 6 months

Text

The Cardinale

Pairing: Cardinal Terzo x Female Reader

Summary: Cardinal Terzo is one arragont motherfucker.

AO3 Link

Warnings: MDNI, 18+ only. hate sex. lots of it. cardinal is a little cheeky piece of shit. WC 4.4k.

Heavily inspired by @mardyart's depiction of Cardi T. Such a phenomenal artist!

Cocky, arrogant, headstrong.

The third Emeritus brother, destined to become Papa one day, nepotism to the highest degree. His suave, angular face and his overly confident charms - how he assumes every Sister will fall into his bed.

How I despise him. How I hope to never fall under his gaze, never be subjected to his attention.

Imagine my rage when Sister Superior informed me that I, her star pupil, will be responsible for tutoring the bastard in English.

He was “reassigned” to the country-side Abbey after displaying what I can only imagine was simply inappropriate behavior for an upper clergy member. The man believes that he can seduce and bed any living thing! Perhaps it��s not a matter of belief, but a goal, rather. At his current pace, he will have had most of the Sisters in his bed before the year is up!

Watching him saunter through the halls, smoking his little cigarettes - inside! I always made a concerted effort to cough as I walked past, head held high. He would simply perish, it seems, if he did not attempt to woo a woman a day. Kissing their hands, wearing his stupid white gloves, and winking that shining white eye.

I love my Sisters, but please, have some self-respect.

Quite frankly, I’ve always been appalled by his behavior. He has never led an entire black mass by himself, needing his brothers to finish the job. There was even one instance where I could have sworn he had a sister hidden under the pulpit from where he stood, evidently having communion. No, Cardinal Terzo only ever wanted to lead the rituals - the demon and ghoul summonings (he needs new things to fuck), the mystic elements (anything he can light on fire), and of course, orgies. (duh!).

It was early fall when Sister Superior invited me to her office. I was promised tea; secretly, I had hoped she would invite me to teach a seminar or two over the semester. My lecture series on the invocation of Lilith and Samuel could rival even the Dark One’s knowledge, himself!

But, no.

“The Cardinal is in desperate need of more restraint, and he could benefit from a more rigorous understanding of the English language. He prefers to speak in his mother tongue, and truthfully, it is not accommodating to international chapters.” Superior started, my ears perked at the mention of my personal enemy. I brought the steaming cup to my mouth. “I could think of none other to teach him all of these skills rather than you, Sister.”

I could hardly register the hind notes of the tea before it went straight through my nose, burning the whole way up! I coughed and sputtered the hot liquid at the shock of my assignment.

Still catching my breath, “My apologies, Sister, but… why me?”

“Give yourself credit, Sister. You are a star pupil!” A shine in her eyes, a smirk in her mouth let me know two things - she meant what she said and there was another reason, too.

My eyes narrowed, seeking the answers in her eyes.

“And you’re the only student that the Cardinal has not gotten to know… intimately.” Her lips pursed, looking towards the ground.

“Sister Superior…” I started, not above begging.

“Sister, I will make it worth your while. I will make sure you have your lecture series as a mandatory presentation for all first-year novicates.” A smile crossed my face, but dropped; still, the deal was unsatisfactory.

I sat up a little straighter, now making a dare. “And, no kitchen duty for the entirety of his lessons.” I hated the kitchens. Everything I’ve ever made was burnt to a crispr, so I’ve always been delegated to cleaning the dishes - the worst thing in the world.

She nodded, “That can be arranged.”

I smiled, relaxing a little, but how it only lasted so long. Resigned to my fate, I was excused to prepare for my lesson with the Cardinal this Tuesday.

A pause from my duties was provided in anticipation - he needed to be assessed for his English skills - grammar, vocabulary and pronunciation. From my understanding, he had a functional grasp on the language. But I did not really know.

Truth be told, I have never spoken even a word to the Cardinal - always avoiding him, always souring my face when his eyes gazed at me. I wanted to be wholly unappealing to the man. For the most part, he had taken the hint and left me alone. Although, I could have sworn he said something in Italian as I walked past, something like “how I want to be the stick up her…” I didn’t inquire further.

By Lucifer’s grace, I had successfully avoided him. Until the sunset on the second day of the week, when our paths collide.

I arrived at our designated location - one of the older classrooms, repurposed for private studying, long abandoned by the day. Thirty minutes early to the beginning of the lesson, how I tidied our space, laid the materials out and cleaned the chalkboard.

The hanging wall clock, the ever present heartbeat, kept steady. It was almost unnerving, as if keeping me in tempo with the eventual encounter with the asshole. The old bell tower clock rang out 6 times.

And the aforementioned asshole was not here. The door was unlocked, the sun firmly setting. My lips tightened to a pout. I will give him five minutes - no more.

Electing to sit in one of the old desks I rearranged, I pulled out a trusty book, as I had anticipated his tardiness.

Some twenty odd pages in, and I had lost track of time entirely - forgotten the reason I was in this dusty room. The bastard didn’t even show up, easily thirty minutes late! Quite frankly, it was embarrassing that I managed to stay this long. But now, I elected to start the process of cleaning my things.

In the morning, I planned to tell Sister Superior that I will simply not take the Cardinal as a student, he had no respect for my time. Future Papa or not, not enough breaths on this Earth could be spared for a man with little regard for others.

I managed to talk myself through this script as I cleaned up my belongings, nearly whispering her retorts back. But I would not be deterred! Lost in the monologue, I heard a hoard of boys giggling, getting closer to the door.

No, no. It could not be.

The door opened, the raven haired cardinal stumbled in - his pack of brothers falling behind him. Laughing at some lewd joke, no doubt. He turned to look at me, suddenly stiffening his posture. The smug smile falling from his face. He offered some excuse to the men behind him, closing the door to the two of us. He leaned against the old door frame, creaking under his weight. As if that would make him look cooler. The black cassock he preferred was immaculately ironed - surely not by his own hands. Maybe he was screwing the laundry girls.

I tried hard to keep my gaze away from him. My rage and my pride wouldn’t allow it.

“Scusa sorella, I, eh, lost the time.” He offered with a shrug of his shoulders. His voice was rich with his mother tongue.

“Well, Cardinal, I won’t keep you long, then. Our lesson is canceled.” I coldly retorted.

“Che cosa?”

“Canceled, cardinal.” I spat back, lifting my book and walking towards him. “You were late.”

“But I am here now, no?” That white eye twinkled - a charm that assuredly got him into many sisters’ beds.

“And I have been here, Cardinal. For thirty minutes past our scheduled time. Either your watch is broken or you have so little regard for others that time is no object to you?” I said, every syllable articulated, glaring at him.

His eyebrow quirked, a challenge, he supposed. A grin crossed his face, a chuckle that died in his throat.

“It really is you, eh sister?”

“What?” I shot back, whatever could he mean by that?

“You - you,” he pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, pulling one to his lips, lighting it, and puffing the smoke away from us, “I thought my school would be with you. You are the sister that always walks with a stick up her ass.”

I made a pointed effort to cough at his smoke.

“Some of us have priorities besides fucking an entire congregation, Cardinal.”

“Am I really so evil, Sorella?” he feigned offense, the cigarette affecting his enunciation. Removing from his lips, another puff. “To celebrate our eh, how do you say, istinti?”

“Instincts.” I corrected.

“Ah, si, instincts. That is why we are here, no? Our Lord calls us to do just that.”

“You’ve got quite the head start on the sin of lust, Cardinal, I don’t think you could ever live long enough to dedicate your life to such… dedicated studies of the other sins.”

“It is my favorite.” His white gloves took the cigarette from his mouth, curling it between his fingers, before dropping it to the ground to extinguish the flame. His shoes shined brilliantly, even I could admit, but as I gazed at his shoes, I swore he winked at me through the reflection of his face.

“You really shouldn’t smoke, you know.”

“It is not good for me, this I know.” “I couldn’t care about what happens to you, the flame isn’t good for these old buildings. You’d burn down the whole abbey.”

“You say you don’t care about me sister.” He moved past me, further into the room, settling in one of the old teachers' desks. He kicked those expensive shoes onto the desk, relaxing back into the chair. “But I do not think that is so true.”

I faced him fully, still standing near the door. “I promise you, I do not.”

“Hm,” he chuckled, bringing his gloved hand to his mouth, running the fabric gently against his lower, unpainted lip. “No.” He said so sternly.

“What?”

“What?” he mocked me, a voice that was far too high pitched to be an imitation of me.

I let out an exasperated sigh, to which he laughed.

“Fuck you.” I went for my bag, still at the old desk.

“Do you want to know how I know this?” He said, staring at my rage.

“I doubt you ever shut up, so it doesn’t really matter what I want.”

“Sorella,” he sat up in the chair, his feet meeting the ground and his hands coming together on the desk. “We have not spoken any words to each other. But you hate me so much?”

I huffed. “You have no respect for anyone but yourself!” I could feel an all too familiar lump in my throat.

“How do you know this?” His patience now wearing thin, I could hear it.

“You walk around the abbey like you own the place. I get it, I know you’re the future Papa, but God damn it, you are so arrogant. You’ve never had to work for anything in your life! You think you can just fuck anyone and anything that walks through these doors. You’ve had everything handed to you by a silver spoon, and I hate it.”

My eyes watered, I couldn’t look at him. Whether from my rage or some secret hopes I had, I could feel the emotion.

“I’ve worked so fucking hard to get where I am, and I will never be anything close to you, just because you’re, fucking, you! And now, I have to waste my time teaching you English because you can’t stay focused for more than five seconds!”

My fist met the school table. His face leaned into his hands, thinking too carefully about the situation. His eyebrow quirked.

“... You are jealous of me, then?” He hid a smirk behind his hands.

I glared at him, how I wish my stare could kill.

“Fuck. You.”

“That does not sound like a no.” No effort in hiding his smirk now.

“Since when does ‘no’ matter to you?” I baited.

He feigned offense, yet again, bringing his hand to his chest. “Sorella, I am offended! I can promise you all of my sexual encounters have been enthusiastic by all parties. I would not dare to violate another!”

“What a well constructed sentence, Cardinal. It seems like you have no need for any help with the English language.”

“Ah, she has gotten me off of the topic…”

“All I had to do was talk about sex, so it wasn’t too hard, was it now?”

“No, no, no, we were talking about you, si! About how you are so jealous of me.” He ran that stupid fucking gloved hand through his hair, slicked with grease.

“Even now, you cannot say you are not jealous of me. Admit it.”

I paused. “So what?”

He clapped his hands, catching me apparently.

“She is! She is very jealous of my status and my future. But, I think she is jealous of not only me, no?” His tone shifted, in a direction I was not comfortable with.

“What?”

“She is also very jealous of all of the people that I get to fuck.” He punctuated the syllables far too clearly.

I huffed again, rolling my eyes. “There it is again. She does not say ‘no!’”

I hated how well he was reading me.

“Why do you even care? You fuck everything with a pulse, so why do you care?”

Fuck. I was not selling this very well. His gaze told me everything. The raised eyebrow, the smug pull of his painted lips.

He tilted his head, as if to study me further. I could feel myself recoil.

“You have done too much assuming, Sorella. About me, about yourself.”

He stood from the chair and stalked towards me. Instinctively, I crept back from him, nearing the wall for safety.

“You think I do not care about anyone but me, and that is not true. You think I abuse my future position, but that is not true either. And you think I fuck anything with a pulse.” He reached me, cornering me against the wall.

“And that,” he brought his finger to my chin, forcing my eyes to his, “is not true. I only fuck the pretty ones.”

Here is where I could be offended, he never fucked me. I thought that I was fairly pretty, so damn, that kinda hurt my feelings.

Sensing the monologue, “And you are a pretty one.” His painted lips gently touched mine.

God damn it. I hated how good that felt.

“So you see, sister, I knew you thought all of this.” His other hand reached for my waist, exploring the dip of my body. “I saw the way you scowled at me, pretending to hate me. It was all jealousy. But there is something about the way you hated me that pulled me so, so close. I needed to have you.”

“But how to get to you?” His hands reached for mine, holding them in place, behind my back.

“Who better to teach me restraint?” he purred.

“I act like an asshole for a while, speak in Italian with my friends. I get the attention of the Sister Superior, who will certainly demand I be subdued by studies.” His painted lips traveled a path along my jaw to my ear. “And who here have I not fucked?”

His teeth grazed my earlobe. “I could deceive the world for you.”

I bit my lip. His gaze returned to mine.

“Pretty good, no?”

“Pretending you’re stupid was a very believable act, apparently.” I mustered out, flustered as I was.

“Don’t deceive me now, Sorella.” His lips met mine again, pressing his forehead to mine. “There is one thing I need to hear you say.” His words left his mouth easily, but he was not unaffected. Just as flustered as I.

I huffed, pausing for only a moment.

“Si.”

His lips crashed to mine, with a fire that was barely restrained before. He released my hands from behind my back; his hands traveled to my hips, lifting me. Instinctively, I wrapped my legs around his waist.

We traveled through the room, locked in the heated kiss, when he sat me on the teacher’s desk.

“On the teacher’s desk?” I giggled, taking in the chosen location.

“It’s always been a fantasy.” He laughed back, then resumed his fury on my neck.

His large hands reached for my habit, pulling it off in a fell swoop. Evident of his experience, it hardly hurt. He pulled away from me, just gazing at me for a moment.

“Pretty one.” As if he didn’t know he said it.

Fuck.

I lead the charge back to his mouth, my hands now locking into his raven locks. The diligent work of unbuttoning that goddamn stupid black cassock. I gave it my best shot. My hands kept slipping on the buttons, struggling to unhook them. He chuckled from our kiss, removing my hands from him.

“Having trouble, darling? It’s always difficult.” His gloved hands made the show unbuttoning each cotton button - traveling down in body in quite the show.

Once to the bottom, he stepped out of the garment and removed his crisp white undershirt. I was out of my body, unaware of how I looked as I looked at him. Each new sight of his skin lit a fire in me. He was as slender as I thought he would be, well defined, certainly. A healthy patch of hair on his chest - he was certainly Italian.

A glance to his eyes knew how I enjoyed his spectacle.

Cocky, arrogant, and headstrong was the Cardinale.

“Your turn.”

He came back to my neck, teasing the delicate flesh. The first moan slipped from my lips as he sucked the skin purple.

“Good girl.” He purred. He lifted my habit from my legs, over my head, leaving me in my undergarments. Pausing his efforts to take in my form. A glance in his eyes - like my body was a feast for his soul. Another look at my undergarments, “Matching?” in reference to the black bra and panties I was sporting.

Guilty.

He leaned closer to me, resting an arm on the table. Teasingly, looking into me.

“Women match when they are planning to be fucked.” My eyes turned from his, embarrassing me again. His other hand came to my chin, forcing my gaze to his. “Was there someone else, Sorella?”

I opened my mouth, but the words failed me.

“No.” He answered for me, feigning sympathy. “There wasn’t, was there?”

My mouth hung open, but I couldn’t admit it.

“Say it, then.”

Bastard.

“Say it, pretty one, I do not have all night.” His voice nearly sang.

The fire his was stroking in me burned, “I need you to fuck me.” I whined, my eyes nearly starting to water.

His hand, holding my gaze, went to my shoulder, forcing me to lay on the old, creaking desk. Quickly, he made work removing my bra. Adoringly, he stared at the exposed skin.

Wordlessly, he painted my breasts with his lips. As his lips latched around my nipple, I whimpered, already so sensitive. His other hand toyed with the opposite breast, kneading the flesh. As his teeth grazed the delicate flesh, he nearly pinched the opposite.

Another gasp escaped.

“She likes it when it hurts?”

Obviously. I fucking hated him so much.

He mirrored his actions on the opposite breasts before trailing his kisses further down my torso. Nipping at the skin, kissing it, dragging his tongue.

He left a particularly gentle kiss below my navel, as he gazed back at me. Wordlessly asking.

I nodded.

He hooked his hands to the elastic of the lacy panties, dragging them off of my legs in a well-practiced motion.

“Spread your legs.” I obliged, as he pulled the teacher’s chair to sit in between my legs.

His gaze never left my core, which he could see how he affected me. He lifted my legs onto his shoulders, granting a better view. Biting the fingers of his gloves, removing them. Gently working the muscle of my inner thighs, unconsciously creeping higher.

Reaching my core, his uncovered hands spread me open further to him. He gazed reverently.

“Pretty, pretty girl.” He stroked my slit delicately, I shivered and whined at the feeling. “Such a pretty girl.”

He brought his face close, kissing my mound and licking the slit all the way up. He left gentle kisses onto my already sensitive clit, dying for attention. He latched his lips around the bud, suckling softly.

As his tongue flicked my clit, I bucked my hips into his mouth, firming my grip in his hair.

He unlatched to drag his tongue, flattened, up and down my core. His tongue prodded at my entrance, lapping at my slick. His fingers moved towards my center, replacing his mouth, pressing into me.

One finger - pumping slowly into me - adjusting the feeling. Adding another one, stretching slightly. His eyes studied my face for discomfort. Once I adjusted, his divine mouth returned to my clit, alternating between kissing and suckling. His fingers curled into me, searching. When they found the spongy tissue inside, the moans fell easily. Begging him. He teased the spot, expertly. Pressing into it with each pump, as he sucked on my clit.

“Cardinal-” I started. “I’m getting - close” I managed to get out.

I could feel a smile on his lips as he continued, speeding his actions.

The band in my stomach was burning, stretching, white hot. At the precipice, as my cries started to build.

When suddenly he stopped. Sitting back, removing his mouth and fingers from me.

I shuddered at the loss of sensation, being so close. I sat up slightly to look at him.

The fucker was wiping my slick from his chin, licking his fingers clean.

Apparently, my face told him how close I was, how it was moments away.

“I wanted to feel it on my cock, darling.” His eyebrow raised. “Plus, it feels better when you ruin it a little bit.”

A fight was breaking in my head, an internal debate I was having with him.

His belt jingled, his pants being slid down and discarded. Left in pristine white boxers, which he lowered. His cock sprang free, dripping with his precum.

“I could have came just from tasting you, you know?” as he began languidly stroking himself, using himself to lubricate the movements. “All of your little sounds, they sounded so sweet. And you were oh so close, weren’t you?”

His teasing was back, his hand sped up, only to build himself up more. I whined.

“Just think. Even an hour ago, you were cursing my name, wanting me dead. Look at you now - begging for my cock.”

He pressed his cock into my core, rubbing the reddened head onto my clit. A guttural noise fell from me. An animalistic cry.

“She was so jealous of me, too. And now all she wants to be is fucked by me. Maybe she’ll die if she doesn’t get it, what do you think?”

“Please, Terzo.” “Oh, using my name now? What happened to ‘asshole?’” His voice cracked, unaffected by his own need.

“Please fuck me.” I cried out, a tear falling from my eye.

“Say it again.”

“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.” Tumbling out.

On command, he aligned himself and pressed into my dripping heat. Feeling every inch of my warmth, he shuddered and groaned.

“So, so good” he whispered.

He filled me exquisitely, pressing in carefully, allowing me to adjust. My nails marked his back, savoring every inch.

His hips finally met mine, I swore I could feel him in my stomach. He let out a breath, unsteadied from restraint.

“Don’t have that restraint now, Cardinal.” I teased. “Move.”

A low groan from him, as his hips rolled, moving back. “You won’t be able to walk tomorrow if I don't.”

“Try your worst.”

He slammed forward again, now setting a punishing pace. Feeling the drag of his cock on my walls, I whined. His hands tilted my hips further up, angling to my sweet spot. I gasped at the pressure. It was returning - the precipice. He couldn’t rob me a second time.

“Perhaps, sorella, it is you who needs a lesson, eh?” He nearly coughed through, maintaining his pace. “I could teach you something.”

His hand moved towards we were joined, circling my clit. It was becoming too much - the sweet pressure of him inside and now his devious fingers.

His fingers moved quickly on my clit, building the fire again. My moans telling him it all. As if in perfect rhythm, his pistoning hips and circling fingers.

“Let’s countdown, darling. In Italian.”

His other hand came to my chin, forcing my gaze. He nodded, as if to reassert his power. “It goes…dieci, nove…”

The fire was reaching a breaking point, I knew what he was doing now. His fingers still moved with a steady speed.

“Otto, sette, sei…”

“...Terzo…” I whined.

“Cinque, quattro, tre…”

“I’m gonna…”

“Due, uno.”

The waves of pleasure crashed down on me, my legs shaking. My vision blurry, white hot. His hips stuttered, as I felt him swell inside, riding out my pleasure. Milking him for all he had. The course of our cries rang in the old room. His fingers didn’t stop until I whined with oversensitivity, his spend leaking from me.

He stayed inside, pressing his full weight onto me.

We held each other in an embrace, coming down from divinity. Our breaths in sync, slowing down.

My breath nearly returned to me as I came to, laughing with what air I had.

“What’s so funny?” His smirk shined with a warmth I had not seen before.

“A countdown to my orgasm. Cheeky.”

He laughed. “It worked, eh?”

“Don’t be too full of yourself.”

“I cannot, you are full of me.”

“Ew! Don’t say it like that, dumbass.”

“There is the girl that hates me. I missed her.” He gazed at me, smiling more softly now, tucking an errant strand of hair behind my ear. Holding my face in his hand, so gently. He placed the last soft his to my lips.

“And I’ll never stop hating you, Cardinal.”

“So be it, but it has worked out well for me so far, huh?”

Bastard.

#my writing #papa emeritus iii #papa emeritus iii x reader #papa emeritus iii x female reader #sister of sin #ghost band fanfic #Cardinal Terzo #terzo x reader #ghost band smut #papa emeritus smut #this is unholy #my apologies

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fruitybythefooty · 7 months

Text

Things you can’t do when you’re mute (partially for the pnf community partially cause i was just thinkin about it):

- Phone calls (yes they have TTS apps that can do this but a) they cost money to remove ads that physically interrupt you and b) people are stupid sometimes and constantly ask if you’re still there even when you introduce with the fact that you’re mute and to give you time to type)

- Fast food drive throughs

- Communicating while carrying things

- Communicating while driving (unless you are with someone who can understand sign/one handed sign)

- Asking people if they need help quickly without stopping them and having them wait for you to type

BONUS, doable things that are just kind of annoying:

- Paying for gas with cash

- Buying things at a register instead of self checkout

- Really just paying for anything in cash

- People acting like I am deaf when I am actively listening to music with large over the ear headphones loudly and having to point to my ears and do a thumbs up (this usually get the point across)

BONUS TWO, things that are cool that have happened to me:

- A hispanic guy (this is relevant) came up to me at a gas station who had seen me paying for gas inside and I guess heard me blasting my music and started speaking to me in spanish. I understand enough spanish that i was able to get that he was asking if i was mute, then he asked if i understood spanish and i shook my head, and he switched to english and started telling me about a seminar he went to on mutism. He was very sweet and it made my day

- The woman who is always working at the panda express I frequent at my school learned how to say a few things in sign presumably because I go there a LOT

- A little girl at the summer camp I went to who connected with me heard another kid ask me why I was using my phone to speak and said loudly “Some people can’t hear and some people can’t speak its a disability”

- Another little girl at the same camp kept running out into the hallway and the teacher was older and worried more about keeping an eye on everyone than her comfort so I offered to watch her in the hall. I sat down with her and asked her if she was overstimulated (in a way a small child would understand) and she nodded. I don’t remember what I said next but she signed me too. I signed asking if she signed and she signed back “a little”. I explained why I couldn’t speak and she said she was the same. I nearly burst into tears for this child and the connection we had. I spent the rest of the day with her. She spoke quietly to other kids but with me she would just smile big and point to things she wanted to show me. We read some of her favorite books quietly sitting next to each other.

- Teaching kids the ASL alphabet, they are always so eager to learn

If anyone is mute or has recently gone mute or has non verbal episodes I am here with you. There’s nothing wrong with us. I love you.

#long post #mutism #selective mutism #phineas flynn #phineas and ferb #perry the platypus #mute perry #human perry the platypus #ferb fletcher #just rambling really

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i4oba · 1 month

Text

mark as… 💭 / your college friend !? ⊹◞✿

your first ever lecture being anthropology, out of all options, was pretty much chaotic and a really humbling experience

you kind of felt lost?? with the lecturer throwing in some of his own antics, with a little too much of little pop culture doses

i mean, he was trying??? talking about batman all of a sudden, comparing a pretty much real theory to his logo or something

(not that you didn’t mention that during that really crazy one on one oral exam… BUT STILL?)

now that’s how you got to know mark lee

i mean, not during the exam, waaaay before that – the first lecture, being just as confused as you, he was.. probably trying to look for someone who was taking notes (preferably good ones at that)

and that’s when your eyes met his!

i guess the panic was so evident in the look you gave him, he just.. couldn’t help but laugh loud asf at your CONFUSED face

i mean, if it was the other way round, you would’ve laughed as well, what can i say..

but still, you had to whisper shout at him (which was weird in the middle of the lecture, being literal meter away from each other) ?? telling him to stop the shenanigans or else you’ll throw hANDS!!!????

(you ended up not doing that – you decided his face was too cute… yeah… pathetic…)

anyways… he literally waited !!!!!!! for you not so far from the lecture hall after it was finished and.. he kind of just??? approached you when he saw you exiting, face representing the Thousands of questions you were left behind

i mean, he felt the same kinda–

but anyways, it was quite.. awkward when you two first interacted. he didn’t really know what to say, you couldn’t really respond to him since all he could muster out was

well.. it sounded stupid

(because he was nervoussssss–i mean, who wouldn’t be when they are trying to hit on a pretty girl like you.. DUH?)

he ended up asking for your notes though.. but it was strategic, you know???

you gotta slide into his dms that way!!!!!! so he can try again!!!!!! (a little bit harder maybe idk)

i mean, you agreed but had a suspicious look while nodding, still trying to figure out his intentions

it really wasn’t clear honestly, he seemed so weird at first, and then he was friendly, offering help around the campus, and then suddenly he wanted to chat???

YOU HAD EYES OF COURSE. even at the omnious, freaking awful freshmen camp you couldn’t spot anyone that looked even half as good as him

but still…

he had that kinda “pretty boy next door” type of vibe which you honestly adored–probably that’s why you agreed on going to that party as well, he invited you to

it was silly of you, of course, and you couldn’t not notice the confused looks of your dormmate

you two knew each other for like.. 2 days and she was suddenly acting like your mother

“ughhh… that dude, you know, that johnny fella has that kind of reputation on campus…”

WHO THE FUCK IS JOHNNY!!!!!!!??????

“he’s a compsci major” she said, shrugging

“that’s literally where the fuckboys are at”

you were like What.. are yoU EVEN SAYING LMFAO

(every compsci major dude i’ve ever seen was a loser though… ?)

where she got that information???OUT OF HER ASS????

later on, like two days had to pass at most???? maybe just one and a half??? and she got invited as well–some chenle dude and her went to the same seminar and things just happened

not her opinion changing.. lol

but it was set now that you two are going together! mostly because she knew you don’t have any friends so.. she might as well help you out–that’s the least she can do after you two changed beds

she kind of made you out to be a loser that way.. like WHAT! YOU HAVE Friends… just

having a major on a different campus.. BUT STILL THE SAME SCHOOL!!!

she was always giving you that weirded tf out look whenever you mentioned it. like okay girl, go off, say whateva lol

but she felt the need to accompany you (GOD BLESS HER TBH)

looking all hot and stuff, you two both paid a visit to the house party which was… honestly pretty boring looking at first

like yeah, just a couple of dudes, not hype enough music either

you expected some kind of shitty techno untz untz music like in those german clubs

those are HYPE. or the eastern european clubs’ music.. elite tier i swear

but you got none of that, only a silly and honestly pretty mid ?? spotify playlist

it’s like giving the aux to someone who only listens to tiktok music like BFFR

right before you were about to leave this horrible gathering, you spotted mark, having a really heated conversation with a Damn Tall boy, snapback on both of their heads

they kind of looked like a couple lmfao OR TWINS

you were hesitant whether you should go and greet him but there was no actual reason that could pull you back

since your roommate literally found someone from her sociology 101 lecture and literally vanished from the surface of earth

Leaving you alone, with a horrible mix of vodka and some other shit you would’ve spit out if only there weren’t too many people

so yeah, there wasn’t any other choice you could’ve made, outside of leaving way too early

that’s how you ended up in the conversation with mark (and, later on you found out, johnny, who wasn’t actually that big of a douchebag your roommate had explained)

it was nice honestly, you got a chance to expose some Drama from high school, you got to talk about your arch nemesis (who attends the same college as you) and some other, unimportant stuff

but they were soooo interested it made you feel??Idk special or something

it really isn’t that frequent that you can shittalk and someone wouldn’t shut you up

and that is why you got back to mark every time–he listened. not only the funny bits of your life, he listened to everything you had to say: your life, school and problems with coursework (he even offered to help), and yeah..

lovelife as well.

you got together with someone from the same major as you–jaehyun.

he was funny, and charming, absolutely adorable and such a great lover??? And then… and then yeah

shit happened, like it always does and you were officialy Heartbroken

you couldn’t really handle it, even though it wasn’t your first time

(in high school, you dated one of the jocks and then got surprised he cheated on you like Dude those are infamous player lmfao…)

so the first person you went to was

your roommate! But she was busy as hell with assignments and exams so she kind of.. I mean she tried to help, but half of her attention was on you, and the other half glued to the monitor of her computer, reading stuff for her research paper

so you went to the second choice of yours–mark lee. but you didn’t mention that fact to him.. it would’ve hurted his heart deeply

you two went to the movies after you raged a little, cried a little into his shoulder and begged him to punch jaehyun in the face

he figured you should focus on something fun, instead of the self deprecating shit you’ve been on lately

and he was Absolutely Fully (ahah!) Truly right

you bought a ticket to the first movie you two saw, not even paying attention what it actually was

(it was a damn horror movie which was So Fucking scary you BOTH were left trembling from fear… pus-)

he used this fact for his own good… he invited you over… to his dorm… since his roommate went home for the weekend…

and the funniest thing is that you agreed, hurriedly messaging your friend, telling her not to wait for you, then ignoring ALL of her furiously typed down responses and calls even

she needed to focus ANYWAYS

so that’s how you ended up in mark’s dorm room… Yeah, yeah yeah

some might say it’s pathetic, some might say you’re dumb as Hell but what could you doooooo

he was looking at you with that extra adorable puppy look on his face… how could you resist

there was no way you could say no, it would’ve been heartless ????????

and you know what would’ve been even MORE heartless?????? Not giving a kiss on his beautiful lips that were literally SCREAMING for yours

It may or may not have been a bad choice but you couldn’t care less… suddenly you felt at ease, kissing him vigorously over and over again

soft hair between your fingers, his breath on your lips and sparkling eyes looking at you

maybe… maybe he was more?? Than a friend

(your roommate was about to slap you right then and there when you told her about the story though…)

#nct dream #mark lee #nct dream imagines #nct dream headcanons #nct dream scenarios #nct dream fluff #nct dream stories #nct dream x reader #mark lee imagines #mark lee headcanons #mark lee scenarios #mark lee stories #mark lee x reader

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ohtobeleah · 1 year

Note

PL2

6 - In bed at 2am, blissfully drowsy

37 - “You're stuck with me, like it or not.”

With my favorite WSO good ol' Baby On Board (Sorry Fanboy)

I see you, and I raise you Bob Floyd with the Admirals Daughter.

Warnings: None :)

Bob had been freaking the fuck out ever since he’d gotten the call from the county hospital that you’d been admitted. The worst part about knowing you were in the hospital was the fact he couldn’t just up and leave in the middle of a tactical response seminar. But the second he was finished? The second Mav had stopped talking and dismissed the group of Elite Naval Aviators that sat before him, Bob was racing off down the hall, collecting his keys from his locker and making a rush to the county hospital across town.

Because of course they couldn’t take you to the Base Hospital could they? No—that would’ve been too easy.

“You have a patient here, Y/n Y/l/n—what room is she in?” There were two things about Robert Floyd that still seemed to shock people when they figured him out.

“Miss Y/l/n, is resting and—“ Bob didn’t let the nurse sitting at the nurses station finish her sentence.

“I asked what room she’s in.” The first thing that seemed to shock people about Bob was that he lost all sense of politeness and rationality when the people he cared about were in pain or in any kind of danger. Phoenix found that out one night at the Hard Deck when some guy touched her ass. Robert Floyd, who at that point had shown no sign of aggression or intention to ever engage in any sort of physical contact, stood up after he finished his last sip of lemon lime bitters and threw the hardest right hook he could.

“As I was saying, she can’t have any visitors.” Bob didn’t like that response at all as the nurse went back to her paperwork.

“Listen to me—“ The second thing about Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd that shocked people when they finally connected the dots, was that he was dating none other than Admiral Beau Simpson's daughter and had been doing so for a number of years before he even crossed paths with Cyclone at Miramar. “I’m gonna ask you one more time—“ But Bob already knew Cyclone from the many dinners he’d been over for during holiday seasons and family get-togethers. It didn’t however change the hostility the pair shared. “What room is my girlfriend in—“ Because there was something Bob hadn’t done yet that your father thought he should have done by now if he was serious about his baby girl.

Bob hadn’t Proposed.

“Floyd.” Cyclone called out from down the hall as Bob turned in the direction your fathers voice had come from. “She’s in room 1024.” Bob waisted not a second of time as he made his way towards your dad.

“You’ve seen her?”

“It’s locked.”

“I don’t care—“ You were Bob's entire world, his best friend, the love of his life, his better half. “I need to see her.” As Bob tried to push past your dad, Cyclone put his hand on Bob's shoulder, catching his attention and stopping him from taking another step forward.

“What are you gonna do kid? Are you gonna break the door down?”

“Yeah—“ Bob nodded as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “If I have to.” All Beau did in response was let his hopefully one day soon son in law go, watching as he made a direct line towards your hospital room.

“I spoke to the doctors, they said she fainted at school but she’s fine Robert.”

“If she fainted then she isn’t alright now is she!?” Bob spat back at your dad as he continued down the hall. Cyclone stayed hot on his tail.

“They said she’s run down and a little dehydrated but she’s okay.”

“Alright so then why won’t they let anyone see her?” Bob asked as he stopped in his stride and turned back to Cyclone who looked just as worried as Bob.

“Because she’s sleeping, she needs it.” Bob knew better than anyone how hard you’d been overworking yourself. Between working full time and studying you were spread pretty thin. Bob thought you needed to take a step back, he saw the way you had been neglecting your own health in order to fit study into your already jam packed schedule. “Bob, she’s fine.” Bob let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding in ever since he got the call you’d been taken to hospital. “She’s gonna be okay kid.”

“What are you even doing here?” Bob questioned your dad as he ran his hands through his hair.

“I’m one of her emergency contacts, they called me.”

“Yeah I know that but—“ Bob didn’t mean to sound rude, he was just stating the obvious. Beau Simpson had never been an overly passionate father figure. And it seemed as though Beau caught onto what his somewhat son in law had been insinuating.

“You mean what’s a heartless shithead like me doing in a place like this?”

“Yeah something like that.” Bob replied, was he proud of himself? No not really, but he knew his point had been made.

“I would’ve come for you too if you ever worked hard enough to pass out.” Cyclone tapped Bob's shoulder as he smiled softly. “But you never have.” Bob chuckled softly too as both men saw a nurse stepping out of your room, gesturing that they could enter if they wanted to. “You go, I’m sure she wants to see you before anyone else.”

“Thanks Sir.” Bob replied as he nodded and pressed his lips together. “Thank you for caring about her enough to come.” Bob left it at that, not quite hearing what Admiral Sysmpison said under his breath.

“You too son, you too.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

The next day after Bob had admittedly refused to leave your side overnight, you were both getting home to an empty house that had been left unattended overnight.

However, as you slept soundly while Bob kept a watchful eye on you, he asked Fanboy and Phoenix if it wasn’t too much trouble, if they could swing by and just spruce the place up a little bit.

They did without hesitation because they knew if there were still things that needed to be done around the home you and Bob shared, you truly wouldn’t be able to rest. And all you needed right now was rest. And plenty of it.

“Alright so here’s what you’re gonna do.” Bob cooed as he cupped your face and pulled you close the moment you both stepped through the threshold of your humble abode. “You’re gonna go upstairs and take a long, hot shower and relax while I cook us some food.”

“I can help you cook.” You tried to argue but the look you got from your boyfriend in return was enough to tell you that he was serious about you doing nothing. “Alright alright, I’ll be in the shower.”

“When you're done it’s straight into pyjamas, no ifs or buts.” Bob shouted after you as you walked up the stairs. You were so thankful to have Bob, someone who cared enough about you to want to take care of you and tell you to slow the hell down. You thought you were fine until you weren’t fine. Which was why Bob felt it was important and absolutely critical that he stayed home with you for a day or two to make sure you weren’t going to start back up into the almost psychotic routine you’d been putting yourself through to fit everything in.

“Okay so I know you aren’t sick but I also know you can’t be feeling too crash hot so—“ Bob cooed as he opened the bedroom door a little wider with his foot to see you getting ready to hop into bed. “I thought chicken soup and toast might be good.” Bob explained as he padded across the bedroom, carrying two bowls of delicious soup on a tray.

“Is that your mum's chicken soup?” You asked curiously as the smell captivated your senses as Bob moved closer. “Oh god it smells so good.” Bob was as careful as he could be as he sat down beside you in bed, holding the tray he’d brought in with two bowls of soup and buttered toast to go with.

“I didn’t have time to make it from scratch so I just got some out of the deep freeze.” You really did love Robert Floyd, and for what it was worth you’d say yes in a heartbeat if he ever did ask you to marry him. But it was something you weren’t too pressed about—you were just happy to enjoy the moments you had with him. “But here, we’re gonna sit down and we’re gonna eat this soup and we’re gonna watch Shameless because I know that you’ve been needing to find the time to finish it and now a time has presented itself.” Bob babbled as he passed you your bowl and took his own as he expertly manoeuvred his legs under the covers. “Don’t argue either.”

“I feel fine, I promise—“ You tried to argue anyway as you blew on your spoon full of soup, sending Bob the biggest puppy dog eyes you could conjure up. “But this is perfect, thank you for this.”

“Anytime.” Bob leaned in to kiss your cheek before the pair of you settled in for an afternoon in bed binge watching Shameless and trying to not think about the copious amounts of studying you had and the fact you had to miss work. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~**

2am rolled around a hell of a lot quicker than it normally did. Maybe it was because you and Bob had spent the majority of the afternoon in bed together or perhaps it was the fact that after your bowl of Bob's mum's chicken noodle soup, you felt a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. Blissfully drowsy in a love filled embrace you snuggled into the warmth of Bob's exposed chest as he wrapped you into him, half dazed and sleeping.

“I could stay like this forever.” You mumbled as you tried to get yourself back to sleep. Bob had always been a little sleeper. So much so it felt like sometimes he was always alert to what was going on around him, especially you. “But I know reality is chewing on our heels.”

“You're stuck with me, like it or not.” Bob cooed as he pulled you in closer. “I took the next few days off to just be with you.” He explained, knowing that in the next day or two he was going to finally ask you to marry him. “So, reality is gonna have to wait, miss overachiever, because you're stuck with me.”

Smiling into Bob's armpit, you beamed at the thought. Damn, he really cared huh.

“I don’t think that sounds all that awful at all baby.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Leah’s 4k celebration 🎊

#Leah’s 4k celebration 🎊#bob floyd #robert bob floyd x reader #bob top gun #bob floyd fluff #bob floyd imagine #robert bob floyd #robert floyd #top gun maverick #top gun bob #maverick top gun

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corpsebasil · 7 months

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HIII could you do something where the reader tells bf!ethan how bad her days was and told him someone was really mean and upset with her and they end up going missing the next day bc ethan obviously killed them?

oh yes -> (dark) Ethan Landry

- like, he’d be so protective of you. youre his girl, aren’t you? the he takes naps and watches Star Wars with?

- happened the same day he got home from school and you were dramatically throwing your laundry with almost questionably violent force into the washer. every time the clothes went in you shouted “HUZZAH!” and then cackled with glee.

- Ethan asked what the fuck you were doing and you told him it with either this, or wine glasses at a wall, so he relented to leave you to your anger management.

- later you tell him what happened: some asshole during your seminar was rude the entire time you’d been workshopping your presentation together. he’d acted like every single thing you said was the stupidest shit that had ever been muttered by a sentient being.

- so Ethan killed him. simple as that.

- and if you noticed the story of his murder on the news the next day, if you wondered aloud about if he deserved it or if it was the universe punishing him for being a dick, Ethan just laughed.

#dark ethan landry #ethan landry fanfiction #ethan landry angst #ethan bailey #ethan landry x you #ethan landry x reader #dark Ethan #scream six fanfiction

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cator99 · 24 days

Text

went to a nearby university today since an author whose book I'm reading teaches there and I wanted to ask some questions. wandered until I found something called the deans office and then made a very quick assumption where he might be and asked for directions to that department and the lady there said "oh are you looking for [name], the [job title]? Shes in [room]!" So I just said YES and thanked her and went to [room] where I was just like oh are you [name] and she immediately just said "YES come in!!!" no questions asked she looked bored as fuck and also had the rainbow stuff going on in her room so maybe she was oh what do they call it "enthusiastic about female baldness" but i apologized for intruding and explained that i was directed to you but I'm actually looking to speak to [authors name], and she didnt know who that was, definitely not this department, hmm weird, so we chatted and she looked him up on her computer and asked me about my research which is when I clarified that I'm not a student I just started reading this guy's book last week and realized i happened to be working in the area where he teaches and figured I'd try to speak to him which she thought was super dope so she printed me off a map of the campus and highlighted how to get to him she was really great I wish I hung out with her instead of going to find him and getting shut down hard as fuck the people in his department practically rolled their eyes at me which I absolutely expected but yeah I guess you can just go to universities and talk to faculty so long as they're not also media darlings. So I just been looking up a bunch of people (lesbians. mostly) who do their thing at other universities and have information about things I want to learn about because to be honest I don't really know what school is or life really I just show up places and start asking questions and that seems to be half of the work now the problem is there's this 2 part seminar I really really want to go to about careers in a field of study I'm interested in but its undergraduates only and also invite only but basically I'm thinking of just showing up and acting normal and shaking hands and all of that and by the time they realize I shouldn't be there they'll be like ahh well you're not hurting anyone with your driven curious nature and enthusiasm for learning so sure buddy why dont you stay. I mean how else am I supposed to know if I should sink years of my life into pursuing it? I want to hear the professionals speak to the undergrads and pretend I'm one of their kind so I can really immerse myself in the experience and can from there make an informed decision okay perfect yeah sounds like a plan

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 2 months

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AITA for repeatedly losing my temper at my kinda-friend? I (17F) have anger issues and I'm working on mitigating it, however, losing my temper always involves yelling and insulting people. Usually I think this is bad and apologize profusely when I lose control.

However, this kinda-friend (16F) who I'll call E, has absolutely no respect for other people's personal belongings, space, or time. She always grabs and plays with my things during class, or our mutual friend's items (16F), and as all three of us are artists, we carry around pretty expensive equipment. (Think Micron ink pens, Winsor & Newton paint, Derwent pencils, etc., just as reference. Thankfully no Copics lmao.)

The mutual friend will be referred to as J.

So, E has been told by both of us to stop taking our art supplies and playing with it, to the point where I'll yell sometimes, and she absolutely refuses to listen to us. She'll claim that she's forgotten what we've told her and put down the item just for her to pick it up again five seconds later. The problem is that she sometimes breaks these items or injures us - she'll play with my x-acto blade and cut me, or break J's graphite pencils, or push my watercolor palette off the desk. I've really tried to be patient about it, but it's proving to be difficult.

J is quite soft spoken, so I end up doing most of the reprimanding. E also brings up inappropriate topics that make J and I uncomfortable, as well as disturbing us when we're busy and then sulking when she doesn't get our immediate attention - once I told her three times to let me do my classwork before snapping, and E cried. She never does anything in school and hates all of our teachers, so she's pretty rude to them. All my work gets copied by her. She really annoys me, but I do feel terrible that I seem to lose control so often around E, since no one deserves to be yelled at.

However, this all came to a peak today when R (16M) and I won prizes for winning a mini-game and asking an interesting question during a seminar at school respectively; the gift was a black notebook that I didn't even like, which is an important tidbit to keep in mind. R left his gift still wrapped in his bag when he left the classroom for break time, so it was just J, E, and myself in there. Upon seeing what I had unwrapped, E went to R's bag and opened it - since all four of us are friends, we thought E was just being "jokingly" invasive as usual and were on alert, but didn't stop her.

J asked what she was doing and E said she was grabbing the gift out of R's bag. This caught my attention, so I asked why she was doing that. E told us that she wanted the book, and when J reminded her that the gift was, in fact, not hers, E said (and I wish I was kidding because this is replaying in my head in 4K HD right now like oh my god pls) "I know. It should be mine." Had she asked for my notebook, I would've given it up happily. I've got too many empty sketchbooks and notebooks at home.

I immediately stood up, but allowed J to handle the situation because I didn't trust myself not to react violently. J eventually lost her temper too and that's when I jumped in and started my yelling routine. I always feel bad whenever I do this, because it's not something I enjoy, but in this particular situation I just can't muster up the guilt? E is extremely irritating, but she tells us she has a horrible home life, so I try to be understanding. Except this was just completely intolerable. R even said that he'd predicted this would happen and to just give her the damn notebook - I vetoed that so we wouldn't enable E.

I really don't know if my reaction was overblown because I shouted a lot and said things like "you were given a brain - use it" and "you're a terrible person with no morals". It's ridiculous to say all that because it's (at the end of the day) high school drama, but I really can't understand why she acted that way. I don't know if I'm in the wrong in this situation. I wish she would listen when we tell her nicely not to do something, but even when I was blowing up at her, she was just smiling as if it was a joke. Should I apologize? I've apologized before when I lost my temper, but I have completely lost all will to be civil with her after this. The teachers are tired too - when she disappears from class or talks back, they just let her be. We can't really go to them because she'll feel betrayed and then get mad at us, which is a whole ordeal, because she's known to destroy and sabotage other people's items because of a grudge.

This is really lengthy. I apologize. I just feel terrible about the situation because I don't feel any guilt for my anger like I probably should. So, AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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starryficsfinishwen · 2 months

Text

inspired by this and this

The smell of something fragrant fills your nostrils.

Sautéed onions, scallions...it roused you from your short nap. Fumbling through the comforts of your duvet, you try to find the source of that delicious smell. It makes you imagine your favorite fried noodles, or buttered chicken, or even your katsudon—

But wait: who was cooking in your base?

You hope to God it's not Lucia.

As much as you loved your teammate, you could hopefully give her proper cooking seminars in order to fix her rather...peculiar cooking habits.

Forcing yourself awake, you quickly stumbled through the covers and rushed to the kifchen. Upon rushing out of the room, sudden bright lights nearly blind you— before adjusting to the light, you find the kitchen occupied.

And a certain blonde man with turquoise eyes greets you awake.

“Hello, Commandant,” Chrome's soft voice echoes through the room, “I'm sorry, did I wake you?”

Under the golden light of the kitchen bulbs, Chrome's figure is ethereal in your eyes— his softened features, shoulders relaxed, and his tall figure over the stove. You couldn't help but notice how nice he looks, a white turtleneck and slacks, with a black apron over it. You rub your eyes; Strike Hawk's Team Captain is really standing and cooking in the Gray Raven base.

“...Chrome?”

“Yes, it's me.” He said, placing a cup over the glassware, “are you surprised to see me?”

Curious, you tiptoe over to where he is cooking. On the stove, a recently finished cooked scallion and garnish is on the pan. On his side, six cups are placed on the glassware. You look up to him, wanting for an answer.

“You were talking in your sleep,” He said, reaching over to caress your cheek with his index finger, “I figured I could have cooked it for you, and maybe wake you up after. But since you're already here...”

Oh, you now remember that you invited Chrome over for the night. A blush creeps to your cheeks, flustered to find out about your midnight cravings. “I'm so sorry, I didn't think I'd disturb you with that instead...”

“Don't be, [Y/N],” Chrome speaks of your name in such a differently soft tone that it makes your heart skip a beat, “I want to do this for you.”

He picks up another cup that you didn't notice, pouring it to the cups on the glassware. Not wanting to sit and stare, you decided to look around and see if there was something else you could do.

“It's okay, [Y/N], you can just wait for me in the dining area.”

“I want to be of help at least,” you cough, “after all, it was me who made you do this in the first place.”

So that was how your early morning went: helping around Chrome as he cooks for the both of you. Watching the way he prepares the noodles, helping him chop the needed ingredients, as he towers behind you, skillful hands on yours to guide you, a few quips and teases as you both worked— you never felt so hungry for something that someone made for you, something you've always wanted to feel. And now, the man is setting your food on the kitchen aisle, the both of you not bothering to move to the dining area.

The moment is raw— your bare feet on the kitchen floors in contrast to his own, the kind light shining over Chrome's handsome face as he laughs at your antics, his hands that gently gives you the plate of food. How pretty. How intriguing.

“If this is a dream, I never want to wake up.”

“It's not a dream,” Chrome assures, sliding over the mouthwatering soufflé to you, “this food is for you.”

Scallion oil noodles and soufflé. Seems like you didn't have to watch your mukbang videos at 3 am anymore. You laugh at your situation, to which Chrome looks at you with affection.

“What's so funny?”

“You didn't really have to wake up and cook this for me, y'know.” You smile at him, taking a bite out of your noodles with the chopsticks, “we could have done this in the morning.”

Chrome doesn't say anything. Instead, he reaches out, touching your cheek with his palm. As you lean into his touch with a hum, he could only move a little closer to you. No word could describe the way he looks at you in this ungodly hour— it is nothing but affection, a warm kind of expression that could only make your stomach turn into knots.

“[Y/N], I wish to do this for you whenever you want. You could ask me to make a cake at 3 am, or pick you up some tarts at 11 pm.”

He leans toward you, forehead touching, “Let me do anything you want. This is how I want to show my unwavering loyalty and love to you.”

Ah, it always makes you wonder what you've done to be blessed with such a kind, loving man. Amidst all the dangers and perils that await you, you were thankful to the gods that always listened to you—

You wanted Chrome to unravel the knot inside of you, tugging it away, wrapping yourself in his embrace and hopefully keeping yourself hidden there. Chrome's love blankets you in ungodly hours of the morning, and he is always there to welcome you awake.

And so, you kiss him— tasting the savory taste of the noodles and the sweetest chocolate in his lips, breathing in the air he has, grasping into his clothes and hair and wherever your hands could reach. It's warmer this way, that makes your toes curl, that makes the kiss deeper, evident in the way Chrome's hands were tightly holding your hips.

When he reluctantly pulls away, noses touching and lips refusing to fully pull away, seems like a different hunger begins to gnaw inside of you.

“Mmn, Chrome...”

“...yes, [Y/N]?”

“...stay a little longer?”

His hands on the lower part of your back is his answer.

“...as you wish, [Y/N].”