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ravenslvt · 1 month

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why does your best friend’s brother have to be so hot??

☆ suna rintarou x f!reader (pt.4) ☆

links to pt.1 pt.2 pt.3

cw: porn with feelings, major confessions, lots of fluff, oral sex both m and f receiving, face sitting, suna has feelings.

the silence of the kitchen felt deafening. you and rintarou sat on the stools of the kitchen island counter while his sister stood at the other side, staring at you two. your legs swing, dangling off the tall stool with anxiousness filling your stomach.

“so… you two… have been-“ the younger suna starts.

“ami i-“ her brother speaks first, cutting her off

“shut your ugly mouth rintarou.” she scolds him. you stay silent.

“we literally look the same??” he puts his arms up in defense.

“rin, please stop talking…” you mumble to the middle blocker next to you. he just sighs and slumps in his seat.

ami takes a few breaths before speaking.

“i’m not mad okay…” she fidgets with her manicured nails while she talks.

“i just wish you didn’t feel the need to like, hide it from me, y’know?” she sighs. you two just nod. you felt awful, you two were the people she trusted most in this world.

“you’re right-“ you finally gain the courage to speak, but immediately getting cut off.

“not done talking” she scolds, saying your name in a warning tone. you pipe down.

your best friend’s eyes go to you. for such a cute girl, she sure knew how to make you tense up just from a look. her face softens suddenly.

“so, why did you feel the need to hide it from me? we both know you’re probably the only person i’d be comfortable with even dating my brother.” ami has a sort of frown on your face. it makes you sad the fact you hurt her.

“well we aren’t really even dating…”

“we’re not?” the brown haired man looks at you.

your eyes snap to rintarou.

“no, rin, we only hooked up like four times-“

“FOUR TIMES? it’s only been two weeks?- sorry my bad.” ami puts a hand over her mouth to quiet herself.

“well, yeah, but i was hoping-“

“is this really the time to talk about this right now?” you whisper to the man. he shuts up real quick. you look back to your best friend, giving her a genuine look.

“i’m sorry i hid it from you, ami. i guess we- well i at least was just scared you’d hate me or something. i never intended to lie or hurt you, we just got kinda caught up in it.” you honestly admit. she just nods, then glares at her older brother. “and you” she seethes. his eyes widen at her sudden switch up.

he may be her brother, but he's also a guy, and you are her best friend.

“my best friend? really, rintarou?” her arms are crossed over her chest, eyes boring into her brother’s head. rin sits up straight.

“look, i apologize for not telling you, truly, but i’m not sorry that i did it.” he says, looking back over to you. you drop your face into your hands. the man you loved was such an idiot.

ami sighs and speaks again after a few moments, making your head perk back up.

“i’m not upset. plus, it would be kinda hypocritical of me to be mad at you two.” she finishes, looking at you.

oh right. the miya twin…

rin looks between the two of you.

“um, what do you mean?” he has a curious but anxious look on his face, brows furrowed.

“you wanna tell him or should i?” his sister looks to you in consolance. you point at her. “this is your business, girl. all you”

she lets out an annoyed sigh before speaking, shifting uncomftorably between her feet.

“i’ve kinda been… talking to osamu since i graduated, but you can’t be mad becuase you’re also literally fucking my best friend soo…” ami says all in one breath. rintarou has an unreadable expression on his face.

“well, obviously.” he scoffs. both of your eyes widen.

“you knew?!” she yells in a suprised tone. he just nods.

“well no shit, he’s the one who told me to invite you to the party in the first place. plus i saw your name pop up in his phone when we went to lunch last week.” her brother explains. you just sit back and watch this uncomfortable situation unfold.

he looks at you. “you knew too?” he casually asks. you nod.

“well obviously, she’s my best friend.”

“hear that rin, my best friend” ami sticks her tongue out at her brother. you smile at the shift of the room, going from all serious to a sudden playfulness, the way ami always knew how to do.

“now go to your room or something, i wanna talk to her alone.” she points at the stairs for her brother to leave. he rolls his eyes, patting your head before leaving the room.

a few seconds pass, and she takes his seat, sitting next to you. she swirls the stool around to face you, voice dropping to a hushed tone.

“so… do you love him?” she curiously asks, with genuine curiosity.

“do you love osamu?”

“shut up, i asked first.”

“i do” you say without a second of thought. she just smiles. all anger from before subsiding into genuine happiness.

“you’re still gonna hangout with me though, right?” she asks, back to fidgeting with her fingers. you roll your eyes.

“of course i am. i’m still sleeping in your room everynight till i leave-“ you start.

“oh c’mon, she doesn’t get to hog you!” rintarou yells from the stairs, eavesdropping on your conversation. you both glare at him.

“no one asked you, rin!” she yells. you both laugh at the way he storms back up the stairs.

she'd be having a talk with him later too.

you talk about everything. osamu, the party, your plans in the next week before you leave.

you were relieved, your guilty conscience completely lifted from having to keep this secret from your best friend. you never expected her to approve, but she was happy both her best friend and her brother are able to find comfort.

plus she knew he had a fat crush on you the way he was staring at you the entire party the night before. she was drunk, but not stupid. her brother was so obvious. maybe it was just a suna thing.

but the thought that you gave him all those marks weeks ago made her shiver. gross.

there was only three days left until you go back. you’ve spent your last days going on mall trips, to the movies, taking walks in the park with your best friend. (and rintarou when he refused to stay at home, saying it was for your guys’ ‘protection’)

he just wanted to spend as much time near you before you left.

“stop moving” you warn rintarou, placing the sheet face mask onto his constantly jerking head.

“it’s cold…” he complains. you just roll your eyes.

“you’re the one who wanted to do this.”

“well yeah, because you were doing it.” he pouts. you giggle at him, your own skincare face mask soaking on your face.

ami left for osamu’s about an hour before, but not before giving you guys a ‘do NOT fuck’ warning. you both just smiled and nodded your heads.

“you’re cute.” you give him a small peck on his lips, one of the only parts that the skin care mask wasn’t covering. his hand reaches for your own, lacing his fingers with yours.

“be my girlfriend.” he softly says, his eyes meeting yours. you were glad this sheet mask was covering your face, or he’d see how flustered you were.

“what?”

“do you not want to?” he asks, a hint of concern in his voice.

“well of course i do, but i-“

“be my girlfriend then. please?” he squeezes your hand. if your face wasn’t covered he’d be holding it.

it was kind of silly the seriousness of this conversation compared to the way you guys had literal sheets on your face.

“i live three hours away, rin.”

“so what? i have a car. i’ll drive down every weekend to see you, baby.” he assures you. his eyes read nothing but honesty and love.

“i couldn’t ask you to do that… you're so busy with volleyball”

“you wouldn’t. i want to. if it was up to me i’d keep you here. or even go with you." he chuckles, "i'll pay for your train rides to come to my games, i’m graduating in two years, we’ll figure it out.” you could see his small smile. his fingers gently brushing over your knuckles.

“okay” you nod.

“okay?” his eyes light up.

“yes” you laugh, he stands up from his chair, leaning down to kiss you, but you two couldn’t do much with these stupid sheet masks.

“take this shit off i wanna kiss you” he rips his own off his face making you pout.

“you’re supposed to leave them on for ten minutes”

“i don’t care, they were like a dollar each” he scoffs, gently peeling your own soft wet mask from your face. he was the one who went into the makeup store with you earlier to purchase them in the first place.

“what a money waster.” you smile up at him. the skincare residue making your and his skin shiny. he couldn’t lie, your guys’ skin looks fantastic.

he grabs your face, finally giving you a real kiss. your lips meet sweetly. you’ve kissed several times by now, but this time was different. it was full of tenderness and love instead of the usual rushed tension.

it was like you have all the time in the world.

his hand reaches in your hair, deepening the kiss. you sigh when his tongue rolls together with your own. your hands plant at his chest, you could feel his muscles through his shirt.

he snakes his free hand around your waist, bringing you to press against him.

you felt your panties dampen when his hand slides down from your waist, to your hips, to your ass.

“so…touchy” you mumble between kisses. he just smiles.

“you make me like this” he replies, gently biting your lip.

your hands go up to tangle in his own hair, tugging slightly to tease him. he just groans.

“c’mere, baby.” he sits on his bed, reaching his arms out to you. you join him, hopping onto his lap and kissing his face.

“wow, your skin is really smooth…” your hand goes to gently caress his face. he leans into your palm like a cat, making you giggle.

his eyes never leave yours, so full of sincerity and love.

“want you to touch me, rin.” you bring his hand to your lower stomach. he just chuckles.

“now who’s the needy one?” he mumbles, kissing you again before his hand slips into the waistband of your pants into your panties, his middle and index fingers finding your clit.

“this wet just from kissing?” he chuckles at you, making you pout.

“m’sorry” you whisper, stuttering when his fingers rub gently at your sensitive bud.

“don’t be sorry, pretty. it’s hot.” he smiles, pulling you back to shimmy your cute pants down your hips. you help him, throwing them on the floor of his room.

you’re left in your his oversized t shirt and your panties, moving to sit on him on the bed, but he stops you. you give him a questioning look.

“wanna try something.” he lays himself on his bed, propping himself up on his elbows to look at you.

“want you to sit on my face.” he cheekily smiles, your eyes widen, but your insides tingle at the thought of it.

“i don’t wanna hurt you…” you nervously gulp. he scoffs.

“i could lift three of you if i needed to. i’ll be fine, sweetheart.” he assures. you reluctantly climb on the bed, still a little scared you were going to suffocate him. like he reads your mind, he speaks.

“if dying by your pussy is where i’m meant to die, it’ll be an honorable death.” this makes you roll your eyes, peeling off your underwear. before you could throw them to the side, rin snatches them, tucking them in the drawer next to his bed.

“hey!” you scold him. he rolls his eyes.

“need something to remind me of you.” his smug smirk made you want to slap him, but also want to kiss him. you opted for the second option. your tongue’s swirling together in a needy messy kiss.

he pulls back, laying himself back on his bed. you let out a breath, crawling up to him and nervously straddling his face with your thighs, facing his legs.

you gasp when he pulls your hips down to seat yourself on his face, his hot tongue swiping over your slick cunt. your face screws into tight pleasure as his tongue prods into your tight hole, making you grind down into his face.

his strong hands hold your hips down as if you were hoping to escape. your eyes flutter open while his tounge switches between playing with your clit and proding into your weeping hole.

your mouth waters at the sight of his erection begging to be released through his sweatpants. poor guy was grinding up into nothing. you lean down, reaching to rub him through his pants, making him groan into your pussy.

you hurriedly push his pants down his hips, along with his boxers. he was so tall you couldn’t reach your mouth to his cock in this position, making you pout. so instead you take your hand and stroke his veiny cock, his moans being muffled by him sucking on your clit.

you pump his cock, using the slick of the precum beading at his tip to lubricate him. his hips stutter into your hands as your finger runs over his tip, the slit of his dick leaking precum over your fingers. fuck how badly you wanted to lick it up.

you moan when his tongue explores your soaking pussy, your hands continuing to tease his raging cock. the tip bright pink from all your teasing.

“feels so good, baby, fuck!” you whine, your hips instinctively rutting into his face. he moans in acknowledgment, urging you to keep touching him while he eats you out like you were his last meal. his grip on your hips never faltering.

your wrist starts to ache from the constant pumping, but the pure pleasure of him licking and sucking at you was all you could think about.

this position was so fucking good. the way he had nothing to do but eat you out until you were trying to lift yourself off of his face, the pleasure becoming too much.

he pulls you back down in an instant, your constant squirming earning you a harsh suck on your clit, making you whine.

“rinn-“ you mewl, your thighs starting to quiver around his head. you’re panting, the strokes on his cock getting quicker and messier.

“f-fuck… keep doing that and m’gonna cum, baby.” he groans into your wetness. you let go, hands gripping at his abs as you feel yourself become undone.

your hips grind uncontrollably into rintarou’s mouth, heat pooling into your lower belly as you feel yourself clench around nothing, the feeling of him suckling at your clit making you cum all over his mouth.

you let out moans of his name, panting before finally moving off of him to let him breathe.

you move yourself between his legs, looking up at him. his lower face was covered in your cum and he was breathing heavily. you licked your lips at the sight, bringing your attention back to his raging cock.

you smile up at him, giving his member small pecks, making his breath stutter.

“want you to cum in my mouth, rin.” you look up at him through your lashes, tongue delving into the slit of his head, making his hips sputter and hands grip in your hair.

you giggle, swirling your tongue around the head before taking him into your mouth, bobbing your head up and down. he lets out dirty groans and grunts, his grip in your hair only getting tighter and tighter.

he knew he was gonna cum soon, already being so worked up from you jerking him off before. that along with you cumming all over his face just a few moments before.

his hips jerk off the bed with a loud groan when you take him as deep as your throat allows you, hands gripping into his strong thighs. you moan when his salty cum shoots down your throat, practically filling your mouth. you swallow it all, only a dribble falling past your lips, swollen and wet.

once he settled, you pulled off of him with a small pop, a string of cum and spit connecting your lips and his cock. you could feel his piercing gaze on you, his grip on your hair turned into soothing strokes.

you hold back a giggle at the way he looked at you with full admiration in his eyes. like you were the most precious thing he'd ever seen. he pulls you up, immediately connecting his lips with yours. the way you both tasted each others releases made you sigh into his mouth.

you laid on his chest, kissing eachother gently. you pull back, smoothing down his hair.

he speaks first, your name coming off the tip of his tounge like a beautiful hum.

“i love you” he breathes out, his eyes searching your own. your heart quickens in your chest.

“you don’t have to say it back-“ he starts.

“no. i love you, rintarou.” you confess, leaning to kiss his cheek. he gives you an uncharacteristically loving smile. you’d never seen him in this sort of light before.

your mind completely avoiding the fact that in three days time, you’d be hours away, long gone from here.

“you guys didn’t fuck, right?” ami scolds, eyeing you two as you three ate the dinner she so graciously brought home for you.

“nope. on our best behavior.” rin responds, giving your thigh a squeeze under the table.

well, technically he wasn’t lying.

masterlist

a/n: ‘i have plans that i cannot share w you right now, because the haters will sabotage me’ wink wink. only planning one or two (maybe even three) more parts of this *cries*

☆ taglist: @jennasquishy8 @nekee-lilac02 @riiceandsoup ☆

#x reader #smut #suna x reader #haikyu x reader #suna rintaro smut #suna smut #reader insert #fanfiction #suna rintaro haikyuu #haikyu smut #haikyuu imagines #suna rintaro x you #suna rintaro x y/n #suna rintaro fluff #suna rintaro x reader

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vixstarria · 6 months

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Admit that you love me

Connected with my other headcanon fics, but works as a standalone as well.

Astarion x Reader, Astarion x Tav, Astarion x Bard Tav, Astarion is bad at feelings, Gale is bad at everything

Bit of angst, bit of comfort, bit of fluff, love, banter, humour and all the other good things. Non-explicit. Early Act 2.

Approximately 2,000 words.

You traversed the shadow-cursed lands. Earlier this week, Elminster had showed up, eaten all your cheese, essentially told Gale to kill himself and promptly went back to wherever he had come from. And you thought 200 year-old vampires were erratic... You hoped you would never come across a vampire wizard.

It was an average evening in camp. You and your companions were passing time by the fire before calling it a day.

You were sitting on the ground before the campfire, as Astarion sat on a fallen log behind you, trying to massage a crick out of your neck and shoulders. You weren’t even being obnoxious about it, your neck had genuinely been killing you and he was trying to alleviate the pain and discomfort.

You’d closed your eyes and leaned forward a bit, trying to give him better access, when a remark from Gale caught your ear, and the hands stilled.

“It’s truly heartwarming to see how well Astarion takes care of his livestock.”

In the sudden silence that ensued, before you had even registered your own emotions for the insult, your immediate instinct was to seize the hand that was still on your shoulder, and say:

“If you kill him, he’ll take us all with him.”

It turned out to be the right call, as Astarion re-sheathed a dagger you hadn’t even noticed he had drawn (or had on him), and gave your hand a small squeeze.

“I... I’m sorry, that was a poor joke.” Gale looked at the ground shaking his head. “If you can call it that. I don’t know what’s gotten into me.” He started to get up. “I better-”

“Disrespect my lover or me again, and I will personally burn everything that you cherish, and rip out the throat of every person you hold dear.” Astarion’s voice was an icicle. “I won’t kill you… But I will fulfill my need to hear you scream.”

Astarion gave your hand another squeeze and got up. He met your eyes as you turned back to look at him, and gave you a barely perceptible shake of the head before stalking off.

Gale, who had stood silently through Astarion’s cold outburst, wordlessly turned and left in the opposite direction.

You still sat on the ground, elbows on your knees, eyes shut, now rubbing your temples. Great. Perfectly normal (in accordance with your definition of ‘normal’, anyway) evening ruined. No Astarion, Gale at a new lowest low, awkward silence, you still with a crick in your neck, and now an unfolding headache. All while feeling like you’ve been spat on.

“Is that what you all think?” you asked quietly, still rubbing your temples. “That I’m a stupid lamb offering myself to a wolf for slaughter?”

To your surprise, it was Lae’zel who answered.

“It is true that the vampire is a predator, and there is hunger and lust in his eyes when he looks at you. But there is also love and yearning. You both carry it. My people are proficient in recognising it, for we are taught from a young age to quash such notions at their conception. Love and attachment make you weak. But you two, you have turned it into a source of resilience and strength. The wizard is as delusional as he is out of line.”

You were completely taken aback by what you just heard.

Firstly, by the fact it came from Lae’zel. But also... You hadn’t actually exchanged words of love with each other. Oh, there were the ‘my love’s, but that was more of a silly casual pet name that had started long ago. You both regularly addressed Karlach as ‘love’ as well. It didn’t mean much.

But to have a githyanki set it out for you so candidly...

“...I couldn’t have said it better myself, Lae’zel,” spoke Shadowheart.

“Aw, none of us doubt you or fangs,” added Karlach. “Hells, sometimes I worry my heart will have a meltdown not from exertion, but from seeing you two.”

You hoped no one could tell your face had coloured scarlet by the light of the fire.

“Gale just hasn’t been himself lately. I’m sorry you and Astarion took the brunt of it. I’m sure he feels awful about this.” Wyll apologised as though he had anything to do with it. “I better go speak to him, make sure he knows we understand.”

You excused yourself and went to your tent soon after as well.

Astarion didn’t return that night. On checking his tent, you noted he did take his weapons with him, though. That’s all you really needed to know. He could take care of himself. After all, he was one of the horrors other people were scared to encounter in the shadows. Still, when you finally fell asleep, it was only due to sheer exhaustion.

It was morning when he finally showed up at the entrance to your tent. Probably. You could barely tell night from day in this blasted place. You were sitting cross-legged on your bedroll, getting ready for the day ahead. You didn’t get up to greet him as you continued to fasten the belts and buckles of your equipment.

“I was worried.”

“I know,” he said simply. When you didn’t say anything, he sighed and added: “And I was angry. Furious, actually. Murderous. I didn’t want you to see it.”

You bit back a swear.

“I can-”

“Before you say you can handle my anger, that’s not the point. I don’t want you, of all people, to be exposed to it to begin with.” You frowned and he continued:

“When everyone keeps telling you you’re a monster, eventually you no longer want to prove them wrong – you want to show them just how much of a monster you can be. And you’re the only person who doesn’t think that about me. Why on earth would I do anything that might make you look at me the same as they do..?”

It broke your heart a little to realise that that’s what he thought.

“They don’t think you’re a monster, Star,” you said imploringly. “Gale said something stupid which he immediately regretted, yes, but the rest of them were on our side.” You made sure he was taking in what you were saying. “On your side.”

“...They were?” Astarion’s eyes softened.

“Yes. Lae’zel gave a whole speech, just about.”

“Ugh,” Astarion curled his lip. “And I thought you were serious for a moment there.”

“I am serious! She was quite poetic about it, actually.”

Astarion suddenly took a step back out of your tent, looking up at the sky in alarm.

“What is it?!” you reached for your bow.

“Oh just checking for flying pigs...” he stepped back into the tent. “...So what did she say? I’m intrigued.” He still looked skeptical, but much less guarded than before.

You paused your preparations, set down your weapons and met his gaze.

“She said she sees the love in your eyes.”

You weren’t about to tell him that she actually said she saw love in your eyes as well.

“Oh...” Astarion seemed momentarily taken aback. “That is quite poetic for a githyanki.”

You continued to study him without saying a word.

“...Oh no. No no no.” He waved a finger at you. “I see EXACTLY what you’re doing, and I am NOT falling for it.”

“What am I doing? I’m not doing anything.”

“Exactly! You’re not saying anything, forcing me to fill the silence until I start stammering like a fool and admit that I love you!” He paused, turned away and huffed, before turning back to look at you, hand on his hip. “And that is NOT on the agenda!”

“You’re not going to admit it?”

Astarion looked away again, wrung his hands, opened his mouth as if to say something, closed it, and looked back at you, cocking his head to one side before finally saying:

“...Not today..?”

You burst into a laugh. How long had your heart been pounding?

“Gaaaaaale! Old buddy, old pal!” you heard from Astarion.

You lifted your head to see Gale approaching.

Fucking Gale, you thought.

You got up to face Gale at the entrance to your tent.

“Morning! I would say ‘good morning’, only that would be a lie for all of us, in light of-”

“Oh for the love of all that is unholy!” Astarion cut him off. “Spare me your words and drawn-out explanations, and I will spare you my daggers. We don’t need that. We can sort this out like two mature, adult men.”

The next thing you knew, Gale was on the ground, looking in disbelief at the blood dripping onto his hand from a possibly broken nose.

“There. Now, for all intents and purposes, this matter can be resolved, if you wish. As previously advised, in the event of any further disparagement of me, Tav, or the nature of our relationship, I WILL be committing arson and turning everyone you love and care for inside out, Tav being exempt, of course. Now that this has been explained to you, if you accept, the damage you just took to your face can serve as compensation, to the full and final satisfaction and discharge of the idiotic shit you said yesterday. Are we in agreement?”

Astarion held out a hand

You stood back observing Astarion, your arms crossed. Theatrics to cattiness to violence to legalese within the span of a minute. How flustered and giddy was this man?

Gale was still on the ground, also looking at Astarion incredulously.

“I sometimes forget that you used to be something far worse than a vampire.”

Gale accepted the offered hand and got up.

“And you, Tav? Would you like to break the spare lute over my head, perchance?”

Astarion perked up at that, but you were quick to protest:

“No, no, let bygones be bygones and all that...”

“Then it is settled,” Astarion interjected. “Well then, off you go, friend.”

“Actually,” you cut in. “I think Shadowheart needs to rest a while. Gale could come with us today instead, seeing as you’ve sorted everything out. Gale, are you up for it?” you asked as Astarion stared at you in disbelief.

After the borderline sleepless night you’d had because of these two idiots, the least they could do was entertain you by suffering each other’s company.

“...Sure, let me just ah... do something about the blood. I’ll only be a minute.”

And just like that, you and Astarion were back on your usual bullshit, causing a loud ruckus as you headed out of camp, him on your heels.

“I object! It’s ME or HIM! And if it’s him, you can give me my ring back!”

Wyll snapped his head in surprise to look at you two, as Karlach gasped and covered her mouth with her hands.

Astarion paused as if to say something to them, then waved a dismissive hand and continued walking after you.

“...Because I am NOT dying in camp like a sitting duck just because HE couldn’t keep you safe!”

“It’s my ring now, and you’re both coming! And so is Lae’zel. Lae, are you ready?”

“Always,” came an unperturbed answer from the githyanki, as she got up to follow you.

“There. She can lecture you on poetry, between the fighting.”

Astarion had finally caught up to you.

“You cheeky pup,” he said only loud enough for you to hear, his red eyes narrowed and a wry grin on his face. “We’ll need to have a long talk about your behaviour.”

“Is that on the agenda? For today?”

Astarion swore under his breath, smiled to himself and fell back again.

Yep, definitely flustered, you thought, fighting a stupid grin that was threatening to take over your face.

Oh you were going to enjoy this day.

~~~~~

Author’s note:

Sorry bloodweave gang, my headcanon is Gale and Astarion are constantly beefing.

I wanted to work in the “disrespect me again” line from Early Access – although I ended up altering it. A lot.

~~~~~

Next in series - Confession

OR, chronologically appropriate smut - Seeing stars

Series master list

AO3

#astarion #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #bg3 fanfic #gale dekarios #astarion fanfic #fkn gale

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mooncalvin · 10 months

Text

Across the hall (pt. 2)

Summary: just George and you getting to know each other a bit better.

Warnings: pure smut. Choking kink, Dom!George, and much more.

Words: 4k

A/n: I'll leave this here and go back to my cave. I just finished uni and now I have much more time for writing so let's just see how it goes. Hope you like this very much!

A few days later you two meet at the same caffee of the last time.

“So what about Georgie?”

You flush once again “I mean, he is really nice, I don’t really know much about him”

“It’s not like you have to know an awful lot of someone to want to fuck them” she stated “By the way, I think he likes you too, we went to see him on Tuesday and he couldn’t shut up about you and your paintings, and he isn’t really an artsy guy, you know?”

“But before this , he barely even looked at my direction, I’m sure he didn’t even know I existed”

“Girl! The only reason I went for sugar to your house is because he said you looked nice and didn’t want to go by himself, we weren’t even baking a cake” her answer took you by surprise.

“Lily!”

You kept talking to her as the days went by, you were more similar than what you would’ve thought. But he wouldn’t stop bringing up George, dead-set on getting you two together.

You haven’t seen him since the last interaction at your apartment one week ago. So you were surprised when you saw him knocking at your door.

“Hi” you greeted him, failing to hide your smile “is there anything you need”.

“Not really” he answered “I thought it was only fair to invite you for coffee at my place since you invited me the other day.” he proposed to you shyly.

“Sure I would love to,” you said enthusiastically.

You walked to his flat, very different from yours, sober and modern style, almost impersonal, probably because he has recently moved in. You smiled when you saw some of his helmets and pictures of a much younger him from when he was in the lower racing categories.

“You were cute here” he smiled as a red layer covered his cheeks.

“Well, do you want to sit down? I can put on a movie or something while I prepare the drinks” he muttered.

“Yeah, sure”. After a while he returns and sits next to you, fairly close to you, but not enough. Neither of you started a conversation at first, feeling a bit awkward. It’s him who breaks the silence.

“How is your artwork coming?” you turn to him to answer.

“I finished the piece I was working on when you visited, now I’m working on a personal piece.” he hummed and turned his gaze to the tv. A while after, you turn your head to discover him already looking at you. This man has to be interested in you, right? The looks he’s been giving to you since you’ve entered his apartment screaming “I’m thinking about fucking you right now”. He wouldn’t be smirking and staring at you if he didn’t want to sleep with you. But were you going to act on it? Hell no.

“So, you are a formula one driver” you stated.

“I am indeed” he answered.

“And how is it?” you asked, genuinely curious about it.

“Well, I’ve been racing all my life and formula one is the top of racing, so it feels like an actual dream but it also has its flaws. I don’t really like all of the press stuff and how paparazzis and magazines intrude into your private life, ” he said. You bite your lip while listening to him.

“If you don’t stop biting your lip like that I don't know how much more I could control myself” he mutters so quietly that you almost can’t hear him, but you do. Your eyes go wide as you freeze, watching how he licks his lips as he approaches you “God I want to fuck you so bad.”

All the breath leaves your body, heat rushing to your core. Your cheeks are bright red, heart shaking as you look at him.

He actually wants you. He wants to fuck you.

All you can do is look at him, muttering a quiet “George…” Before he is leaning over you, body pressing against yours, lips so close that you can feel his hot breath, hands gripping your chin. You can feel the slight hardness poking at your stomach so you look down briefly before looking into his eyes again.

George’s blue eyes stare into yours, watching your every movement. Your lips are practically brushing each other. And his hand goes to your hip, pressing you close to him. A moan escapes your mouth before his lips are fully into yours, silencing you.

It takes you a second to respond to the kiss. But then you feel his lips move against your and follow, kissing him with passion. Your hands come up to hold onto him. One pressing against his cheek and the other on the back of his head, so you can run it through his hair. He presses you harder against him as his other hand goes to your hair tugging it, leaving your neck uncovered, so he can start to kiss it and bite it.

He lets out a little moan when you pull his hair to bring your lips together again.

One of his hands moves up to your neck, wrapping around it and adding a light pressure. You take his bottom lip with your teeth , pulling back and biting down lightly before pulling away from his lips entirely.

He stares down at you, hand wrapped around your neck as you pant and whine, legs wrapped around him squeezing while you attempt to grind into him.

“Do you like it rough sweet girl?” A laugh escapes him, fingers pressing into your throat a little tighter for a moment, you moan out, nodding your head.

Right now you feel like you’ve never before, relinquishing all your control to George as your mind goes fuzzy and your pussy gets wetter.

Both of you moan when George grinds his cock straight into you, the friction scratching right against your clit.

He buries his head into your neck befores going upwars, his mouth coming to rest beside your ear.

“I’m going to take you into my room and I’m going to eat this pussy before fucking you raw. Is that alright darling?” your pussy clenches as and your head is nodding before he grabs you under your thighs and picks you up, walking through his apartment towards his bedroom.

You bounce on the bed when he throws you down, giggling while you lay there and stare at him.

He stands at the end of the bed, tall and imposing.

You watch as he takes off his t-shirt, his body skinny but full of muscle, wanting nothing more than to rip the rest of his clothes, but he is quicker as he grabs your legs and slides you down the bed.

“Do you want this sweetheart?” he stares down at you with a smirk, palming his erection through his trousers. You glance at him, nodding your head. “Words, darling”

“Yes,” you mutter.

“Yes what? Your eyebrows furrow, and you take a moment comprehending what you heard before you realise.

“Yes sir” you practically moan.

He lets out a groan at your words, hands rushing to undo your belt and take off your trousers, sliding them down your legs, leaving you in only your panties.

You’re grateful that you didn't choose to wear your teddy bear panties, maybe you knew that something like this could happen.

George moans when he sees your soaked underwear, a hand reaching your covered pussy. You whine and move your hips up, only hoping that he would do something else. “George…” Suddenly he is rushing to pull your pants down your legs, spreading them and throwing them over his shoulders as he kneels in front of you.

You lay there in anticipation as George lays open mouthed kisses on your thighs. He continues to tease you, coming closer to your core before moving away. Your whine at the teasing.

“So desperate for me, aren’t you?” When you look down at him, he’s still looking at you, lips puffy from all the kisses you shared. “If you beg me I might just consider going further love” he says before nipping the skin of your thigh.

Your legs tighten around his head “Please, George, please, I need it so bad”. He scoffs against your leg, a hand going up to caress your ass gently, before laying a smack onto it, making your hips buck into him.

“I don’t think I remember what I told you to call me, was it that?” He says sharply.

“Please sir…” you let out another whine as he licks a strip up your pussy, getting the attention you needed.

“You taste so good, sweet girl” he says before diving back and running his tongue all the way to your clit, sucking it.

You moan out, and your hands fly to tangle in his hair and pull. He lets out a moan and brings an arm to hold your hips down, continuing his duty.

You cannot stop moaning, a pressure building up your lower stomach as he continues with his torment.

He fucks you with his tongue, his nose digging into your clit, one of his hands harshly gripping onto your thighs as they rest on his shoulders. All you can do is look down and watch him, eyes almost closed because of the pleasure.

His hand releases your leg and comes to your pussy, one of your fingers sliding into it, making your grip on his hair tighten.

He puts another one not long after, curving both of them, hitting the spot that makes you see stars. He pulls his face away from you for a moment, his fingers still fucking you as he looks up at you, his chin covered in your slick. Your walls clench around his fingers, making him let out a laugh, motivating him to do it harder.

“Such a dirty little whore, aren’t you?” you tighten around his fingers as he says it, making him laugh again “You like that, don’t you? My little slut” you let out a moan indicating that you are going to come soon.

“I-I’m going to come” you stutter, not being able to form a coherent sentence.

“Yeah baby? Are you going to soak my fingers like the dirty girl you are?” you feel as he adds a third one, stretching you.

You moan as a confirmation, and he leans down again, sucking you hard as he continues pounding his fingers into you.

You feel your stomach pull tighter, as your release comes, moaning his name as you cum. Your legs shake, back arching as the pleasure invades you. That doesn’t make him stop, as he continues licking you through your orgasm.

He pulls away from your pussy, and lets his hand to his mouth, tasting your release as he lets out a moan.

He stands up fully, towering over you once again as you lay in bed, recovering from the orgasm that has just hit you.

You come back to earth as you feel him grab your waist and hike you up the bed, resting your head on one of the pillows that lies there. Then he dives down to connect your lips and your hands go up to wrap around his shoulders, nails digging into them. You continue to kiss as he grinds his erection over your pussy. You shake at the overstimulation, whining when his lips leave your mouth. You open your eyes to see him hovering over you, smirk on his face.

“From the moment I saw you I knew I had to ruin you” he says, eyes dark with lust. You moan at his words.

“Please fuck me George” you mutter, pulling him back down and kissing him fiercely. He pins your wrists to the bed, taking control.

He pulls away, releasing your arms and pulling you up so he can pull your shirt off, admiring your breasts in your bra before removing it. He pushes you back down and starts laying kisses across your chest until he takes one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking it lightly and pinching the other one with his hand. You moan, your hips grinding on him and hands on his hair as he continues to lap at your breasts, switching between them.

He pulls away and stares at you for a moment, “I’m going to fuck you so hard” he says before pulling away undoing his pants so he can push them and his underwear down, revealing his cock to you.

He’s actually bigger than you expected, precum dripping from his tip. You can’t help but moan at the sight as your legs open on their own, almost like a reflex, exposing yourself to him again.

He laughs at your eagerness. “You don’t mind if I fuck you raw, do you, love?” you shake your head quickly.

“Please I need to feel you inside me” You whine, becoming desperate for him. He smirks at you as he climbs the bed, crawling on top of you, getting himself between your legs, dragging his cock across your wet folds, making you leave a moan as he brushes your clit.

He grabs your legs, pushing them up slightly as he holds himself up on top of you, guiding the tip to your hole, pushing it slightly.

Both of you moan, your back arched at the feeling and your eyes closed. But they shoot open when you feel George wrapping one of his hands around your throat, adding a light pressure “that’s right babygirl” he whispers “keep your eyes open for me”.

Then he begins pushing in, your walls squeezing him as you struggle to keep your eyes open, gasping.

He mumbles a “fuck” and keeps pushing in, hand squeezing your throat slightly.

“Oh George…” you whine when he bottoms out, him fully inside you.

The feeling is just amazing. The stretch of his dick and the feeling of his hand around your throat sends you into a state of bliss, making you struggle to keep your eyes open.

George is not much better, his eyes are also closed as he refrains himself not to start pounding into you like some kind of animal, wanting to give you a second to adjust to his size before fucking you fully.

His eyes are open when he hears you mutter a little “please”. And he looks at your face as you stare up at him, begging him to move and fuck you.

He doesn’t waste a second, pulling out of you before sliding back in.

You both moan at the same time and he begins pushing in and out of your cunt, picking up his pace.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head, and your hands come to grab his wrist as he continues to choke you, slowing your breathing in the most delightful way.

The coil is back on your stomach, this time faster than before. The feeling of his cock pushing against your walls is just as good as you had imagined, maybe even better.

You stare up at him as he pounds into you, his pace picking up as your eyes catch his. He slides the hand that was at your throat down your body until it reaches your clit, rubbing it.

“Open your mouth” he suddenly says. You can’t help but be confused, not really understanding why you should open your mouth, but you do it anyway. You watch as he spits in your mouth. “Swallow it”. You do it immediately, your pussy squeezing as he lets out a “good girl” after.

He lets out another moan before pulling out of you.

You whine at the emptiness, hands going to his arms before he’s grabbing you and flipping you over onto your stomach, grabbing your hips and pitching them up, hips in the air and face buried in the pillows.

George grabs onto your ass, kneading it before leaning down and biting you, spanking you after you let a little moan. “You’re just the perfect girl for me”. You hear him mutter before his hands go to your hips and he starts pushing his cock into you again, making you moan happily.

Now he goes pounding into you, pace fast and rough as he fucks you into the bed.

His cock glides in and out of you, the occasional smack on your ass as you moan out.

You feel so close to coming. “Harder George please!”, you call out, painting and gripping onto the sheets tight as his trusts get harder.

He grabs your hair, pulling until you’re leaning up on your knees, your back to his chest, hitting deeper with each thrust. You moan together, and you turn your face to his, your lips connecting in a sloppy but passionate kiss. Your hand cradles his head, the other grabbing his side, as he continues to fuck up into you.

You feel the coil tighten and tighten, bringing you closer to relief. And as if he had read your mind, George’s hand comes to your clit, making you cum all over him.

You moan loudly, body trembling as he continues to fuck you, your hand pullin his hair tightly, even louder when you feel the heat of his cum fill you as he comes inside of you, his own moans mixing with yours as he connects your lips again.

You keep kissing as you come down from your highs. Breaths steadying when you pull away from each other.

You stare into his eyes as he stares into yours, the both of you panting. A smile makes its way into your lips, one forming in his no long after. One of his hands comes to cradle the back of your head, pulling you into him to kiss you again.

He then slowly pulls his cock out of your pussy, making you whine at the feeling, already missing him. He gives you a short peck and helps you lay down on the bed before pulling away from you entirely.

“I’ll come back in a moment, love” he says. You nod and close your eyes as you feel the exhaustion creepin into you.

You don’t even know how long it went until George gets back. You feel him spread your legs a little before a wet cloth is cleaning away the cum that pools your pussy. You half open your eyes and watch him, a dizzy smile on your face at his caring actions.

He glances at you when he’s done, climbing back into bed next to you.

He pulls you into him, pulling you to rest onto his chest. You wrap your arm around him, squeezing harder when you hear his heart beating faster.

You feel him lean down and press a kiss to your head, sighing in contentment at the moment.

After what could have been hours but were just a few minutes settling after your littler encounter, you pull away from him a little bit, leaning up as you look at him, him looking back at you. A small smile rests on his face, and you lean forward to press a kiss to his lips, humming with joy as his lips press back.

When you pull away you look back at him.

It’s now or never.

“Would you go on a date with me?” you ask him, anxiety crippling.

He can’t help but laugh at your question.

“I’d love to go on a date with you”.

Taglist: @mysticalnightenthusiast @vildetry06 @rens-daylight

#f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #george russell imagine #george russell x reader #george russell smut #george russell fluff

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hrryshoney · 11 months

Text

i don’t wanna be your friend, i wanna kiss your neck

matty healy x reader

A/N: here’s a matty sick!fic for you. i’m a sucker for friends to lovers, so sorry to be annoying but here’s that! maybe switching povs, i’m tired so give me a break.

warnings: kinda suggestive maybe if you squint real hard, matty’s in loveeee but readers oblivious, matty’s a little shit. religion? kind of? not really at all, but talks of God is in there. bad writing, idk n idc.

prompt: “can you kiss me? i’m sure i’ll feel wayy better if you do,”

edit: pt. 2 now posted here

You and Matty were friends. Well, maybe best friends. You definitely thought so. You’d been beside him for as long as you can remember. So, you think you’ve earned that title.

Besides him being your, talented, smart, funny, witty and incredibly good-looking friend, he was also your insufferable rockstar friend. The cocky, arrogant one. The one who would tease you until you could feel your face get hot.

And, the one with the weak immune system, apparently.

“Darling?” You heard his call from his bedroom. He had rung your phone at promptly 7:30 AM earlier today. Telling you how he was positively dying, and how you must come over and take care of me, angel. You really must.

“Yes, your Royal Highness?” You say teasingly with a roll of your eyes, walking into his room. He looked positively pathetic. Lying down, wrapped in his white comforter.

Matty pouts a bit at that. “I’m being serious, yeah? Don’t make fun of me, this is awful.”

“Mhm, I can imagine.” You give a little pout, a feigned wave of sympathy. “Did ya need something?”

“How about some empathy?” He scoffs at you, all in good nature of course. Matty needs to get that final banter in. Anything to rile you up, even when he’s sick.

“We all get sick, Matty.” You roll your eyes with a giggle. “I know how you feel, trust me.” You move to sit on the edge of the bed. He unravels his hands to reach out for you, but you move farther away.

“What’s with that, then? Don’t love me anymore? Hm?” He maneuvers his body to be closer to yours.

“Don’t be stupid, I’m not trying to get sick.” You ignore the butterflies that roll in your stomach from his grin. From the use of the word ‘love’. Of course you’ve said it to each other before. You’ve known him for almost 10 years, and he’s your best friend. But you can’t help but wish for it in a different context.

“Wouldn’t get sick for me, love?” He laughs and lays back, a little cough accompanied by it.

“Do ya want some water? Cough doesn’t sound too hot.”

“I sound hot without the cough though, right?” He winks, and you cast your gaze to the floor. You let out an unconvincing laugh. It doesn’t get easier as time passes, that’s for sure.

“You’re corny, Healy.” Your lame response feels bitter on the tongue. “Seriously, do you need anything? If not, I’ll go back to the living room and get some work in.”

He gets a gleam in his eye, and his lip quirks up. Whatever comes out of his mouth won’t be good, you just know it. So, you mentally prepare yourself.

“Can you kiss me? I’m sure I’ll feel way better if you do.” He gives that signature smirk of his, like he’s enjoying this all too much. His eyes trace from yours, to your lips, and then back up. You definitely weren’t prepared for that, though.

You feel the heat spread all over your body. Why am I friends with him, again? You glare at him. “Funny.” You say monotonous, unwavering.

“Hey, I’m being serious, darling. The offer is there.” He shrugs noncommittally. Is he joking? Like, seriously?

You never let your hopes get too high. You brush off all his flirting as jokes. He’s got supermodels and singers knocking at his door. You never thought you would genuinely be his type. Just friendly banter.

“Okay, Matty.” You brush it off once again. You don’t want your mind to wander there. Wander there like it had so many sleepless nights. Lying in bed, panting, thinking of him.

“Then come plant one on me, won’t ya?” He taps against his lips with his pointer finger, the biggest smile on his face. You wonder, is this all a joke to him?

“You ask all your friends to kiss you when your sick?” You deflect quickly, not wanting to deal with this.

“Only the pretty girls who are my best friends that come over at eight in the morning for me.” He shrugs with an easy smirk. He really is a little shit. “‘Sides, not even that sick. Don’t think you’d catch a bug from a little peck.”

“Oh, no? Thought you were ‘positively dying, darling. It’s dreadful, innit?’?” You lower your voice a few tones and put on a bad british accent to mock him.

He feigns offense with his gasp. “I do not sound like that! You’re kidding, that’s blasphemous.”

“Ah, yes. Because you’re so holy?” You let out a laugh.

“Mhm, I can have you crying out to God if you give me a kiss?” The look on his face is vile. You want to kiss it away. Smack it away. Do anything then have it taunt you like this, really. You move in your spot on the bed.

“Maybe the fever is getting to your head, Matty.” There’s only so many more poor deflections you can make. He has to notice.

“Awh, you think so?” He pouts in faux sympathy, moving closer. You feel dizzy. You scooch back on the bed.

“Yeah- yeah, think so.”

He smirks. That bastard and his smirk. “Right, what a shame, terrible, really.” He’s up close and personal now. Right next to you. Hand on your face. He brushes a stray piece of hair to the back of your head. You two are looking at each other now. All eye contact.

“I- Matty.” You breathe out. This is all too much right now.

“Yes, what?” Matty sounds annoyed. Obviously wanting to have kissed you before you moved your neck back.

“Don’t think we can- think we should, you know. Don’t wanna ruin anything.”

He sighs. “Who made those shit rules up, huh? Maybe I wanna ruin our friendship? Ruin you, yeah?” His head falls into the crook of your neck, you feel his hot breath. “Think we should just stop with the bullshit. Wouldn’t mind being something other than friends.”

“Matty-“ “Y/N?” He interrupts your unheard sentence.

“Do ya like me? I’m being serious now, angel. Honest, do you fancy me or no?” You’re getting whiplash from this conversation. How is this happening. Why now? How, now?

“I- Matty, I think you know the answer.” you furrow your brows at him and pout. He has to be fucking with you, right?

“Maybe I wanna hear you say it?” He smirks, again. You’re sick of that smirk. You really do wanna kiss it off.

“Jesus, yes, I like you. Of course I do, Matty.”

“Hm, good. That’s good. ‘Cause I like you too, angel.” He gives a grin that makes him glow. A grin that is the personification of happiness. Matty leans in.

#divider cred: @cafekitsune #matty healy x you #matty healy x y/n #matty healy x reader #matty healy fluff #matty healy smut #matty healy fic #matty healy blurb #matthew healy #matty healy oneshot

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tocomplainfriend · 22 days

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WHERE ARE THE WOMEN!?

I came back to or HB and I got run over with the lack of Female character content. Specially in the queer area!

We got Millie, who gets the lowest attention. See doesn't have and actual episode about her as a person. Unhappy Campers it's not an actual episode about her- it's mainly Moxxie and her dealing with it. We don't get any flashbacks in comparison to Blitz, Moxxie, and Loona. Even when Chaz it's her ex, we only get the Moxxie's part of the story. We get an episode with full focus on Bllitz, Stolas and Moxxie perspective of things in an episode, but we never follow Millie alone her self.

What we got about Millie: Good at killing (Melee weapons), supportive, Country girl, anger? Moxxie's Wife

Unhappy campers tries to give her attention but not actually doing it. She gets everyone to love her and show she can do an endless amount of tricks. But the episode concentrates in Moxxie getting insecure again. The fact they barely want to write her shows in just giving her long fighting scenes instead.

What does she do? Like, does she have her group of friends outside of her job or no? How does that make her feel? Being in your mid 20's and not really having many friends, it's quite a thing to explore. Or does she have actual friends outside of Blitz, and her husband.

How does she feel about Blitz stalking them? Cause in the pilot she just laughs it off a lot! Why? She didn't say anything about Blitz coming to Ozzies to see them. Does she actually dislike Loona or the fact she is a hellhound? Does she feel like a normal Joe underlooked, cause maybe her family with multiple kids didn't give her top attention and recognition? Probably not because they didn't write that- I imagined that, just know. Apparently she just had a 'boring' good family and that's why we don't see anything of that.

I just fill in the spaces where the is nothing to say regarding Millie with Headcanons, basically...

Loona gets written kind of back and forward. She was so nice by the end of season 1- to then beat the shit off Blitz in season 2, episode 2. And She was given the reason of "blitz did something that hurt her" when she was in the wrong for being awful to the customers in the first place and try to guilt-trip her dad. In that same episode, we get Loona's backstory for getting adopted, but from Blitz Perspective. I loved how she was with Octavia. But she backtracks into being mean to everyone. Hopefully she gets to interact with her by the end of the season!

Verosika... Where is my girl? Haven't seen her! She gets to have genuine frustrations towards Blitz, I'm happy for that. I hope they don't write her into had being the bad one for blitz to look better.

Stella, she gets written as the worst to elevate Stolas as the least bad person to justify him and Stolitz. Her view of also getting forced to marry someone as a child is never given, she gets the least out of it to- she doesn't get any book or power- she sticks to her family. I think writing her as "stupid" and also the "I love tormenting you" is so shallow. Her power as an antagonist gets killed in order to put her brother as the main danger instead.

One thing in writting I don't think it's intentional is her treatment of Striker. It does call my attention that Stolas call Blitz an Imp, and imp based names- same with disregarding Millie and Moxxie- Meanwhile Stella treats her assistant like shit and says shit if "plebeian blabla" but when she gets in the Phone with Striker to cancel the killing. She is polite and calls him darling. Which is different!

I love that Octavia gets attention, but I know she is written to also elevate Stolas as a character. -And the writting fill force her into forgiving him. Also... her relationship with her Mom? Someone? Can we explore what she thinks of imps or hellhounds compared to her parents?

Sallie May? 2 Lines in 1 episode.

Barbie? Her story dealing with her mom dying got pushed in the BG due to her deleted content. uh... get drugs from being sexual as a +30 woman to a 19 yr human. Doesn't want to deal with Blitz cool! Fizz gets more backstory with Blitz than with her...

Glitz and Glam. They show up and act like assholes to Fizz (to make him seem more vunerable and dealing with a lot). For some reason, the concept of Mammon being abusive to Fizz only matter if it towards him. Because he just let Glitz and Glam take his place, even if they were being bitches to him- that doesn't make them have to endure Mammon's treatment too. They are also over villainized as if Blitz or wasn't an ass to everyone too.

Bee is there probably for one episode due to wall Kesha and shit. She is a contradiction on her self "gluttony - over indulgance" to then "Loona your dad is drinking to much and it worries me" ??? She is there to be a party girl and tell Loona what to do.

Overall she also only get Queer content out of the male characters. There is not a single WLW thing going on anywhere here. Meanwhile most the teasing of ships and jokes is MLM (blitzXmoxxie,blitzXstriker, blitzXstolas, blitzXchaz, blitzXfizz, moxxieXstriker, moxxieXchaz, fizzXasmodeous)

The only possible WLW joke is Bee and Loona. That's it!

For a show that gets to praised for representation of the trans woman character, It's less of a secondary character just yet. And no non-binary character anywhere.

(DO NOT SAY oh but in the BG, NO I'm TALKING ACTUAL CHARACTERS IN THE SHOW-not the bg succubus or the art team putting random stuff around!)

#vivziepop critical #vivziepop critique #helluva boss critical #helluva boss critique #helluva boss criticism #vivziepop criticism

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hard-core-super-star · 8 months

Text

shock to your system [H.Steinfeld]

pairing: hailee steinfeld x reader

summary: your move to new york isn't as panic-free as you would have hoped but thankfully, your girlfriend knows just what to do to help.

warnings: panic attack + general mentions/descriptions of anxiety; hailee being the sweetest person in the world even in stressful situations; cute cheesy fluff; one day i'll figure out how to write endings, i promise; me dragging new york again, i'm so sorry

wordcount: 1.3k

a/n: title (and inspiration) comes from shock to your system by tegan and sara, i cannot recommend the song enough, holy crap. this request by sent in via pm and it's slightly heavier on the anxiety side than some of my past works. important disclaimer: i've never experienced a panic attack before despite living with major anxiety so hopefully the descriptions aren't totally awful. hope you enjoy <3

* * * * * * *

You should’ve known better than to keep your growing anxiety to yourself. Despite the nagging feeling in the back of your mind, you had dismissed it at first. You were sure it was just the average amount of discomfort that comes with moving to a different city and because of it, you didn't say anything to your girlfriend.

Clearly, that had been a bad idea.

You didn’t know where it stemmed from but it was obvious the move to New York had left you a little more uneasy than you had anticipated. It’s not like you were a stranger to the city but living here is something completely different to visiting every few months. Everything about it is loud and overwhelming and incredibly different from the ocean-blue views of L.A that you’re so used to.

Not only were you dealing with the move, but you were also dealing with Hailee’s absence most days. Hawkeye had been picked up for a season 2, hence your hurried move to New York, and your girlfriend was on set pretty much every hour she was awake. She didn’t technically have the title of executive producer like she did with Dickinson but she certainly behaved like one, choosing to stay on set even when she didn’t have any scenes to film.

In hindsight, the signs were obvious. And yet you managed to ignore them over and over again until you finally snapped.

You had spent most of the week laying in bed and pretending like everything was fine. Hailee was distracted enough that she didn’t question you even when it was obvious you were avoiding things and you made no effort to fill her in on what was going on inside your mind. You didn’t see anything wrong with it…until today when your anxiety got way out of your control.

You don’t even know how it happened. One second you were fine, relaxing on the couch and texting your girlfriend who was on her way back to your apartment, and the next you felt the walls closing in on you. All it had taken to tip you over the edge into an ocean of panic was a genuinely sweet question from Hailee, an offer to go out tonight and explore the city together.

The mere thought of stepping foot outside of the walls of your new home was more than enough to make you spiral.

And spiral you did.

You’re not sure how much time passed, it felt like both an eternity and a second to your overwhelmed mind, but the tightness in your chest slowly increased until you were left gasping for breath.

You’re so lost in trying to remember how to properly breathe that you miss the sound of the door opening until the caring voice you love so much calls out for you. “y/n?”

You open your mouth to say something but all that comes out is a choked sob full of more desperation than sadness. You want to look up at Hailee but you feel frozen in place like all you can do is shake and struggle to get enough air into your lungs.

“Hey, it’s okay,” she says as she crosses the space between you until she’s kneeling in between your legs. “Can you look at me, baby?”

“Can’t- Too much-”

“Shh, I know, I know. Take your time, you’re safe, love.”

Her gentle hands come up to caress your face, her thumbs wiping away the tears you hadn’t even realized had been slipping out of your tired eyes. Her touch helps ground you despite the chaos swirling around your mind, almost as if she’s the only thing keeping you anchored to reality.

She moves slowly but she manages to help you lift your head enough to be able to look into the loving eyes you call home. “There we go. Focus on me, alright? I’m not going anywhere.”

You sort of mumble in agreement although the sound comes out slightly muffled and incoherent. Hailee doesn’t judge your panicked response and instead does her best to comfort you, keeping her eyes trained on your face for any subtle hints that the panic attack may be growing stronger. There’s an underlying sweetness to the moment that not even the demons in your mind can argue against.

You do your best to focus on the sweetness of the moment and the sheer warmth she radiates so effortlessly while you struggle to get your breathing back under control. It’s a slow process filled with Hailee’s whispered words of encouragement and soft caresses but eventually, your shaking subsides and your breath starts coming in somewhat steadier than before.

You feel as if you’ve run a marathon despite having been frozen in place for who knows how long. The relieved smile that spreads along your girlfriend’s face offers more solace than the air that fills your lungs. “Better?”

“Yeah.” Your voice is barely louder than a whisper but at least you can finally talk without hyperventilating. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” she replies with a small shake of her head. “I’m just glad I could help you.”

You reach for her with shaky hands and she instantly understands your silent request. She joins you on the couch, her arm instantly wrapping around your waist and offering you more comfort than she could ever imagine. You shift your body toward her and rest your head against her shoulder while making sure to keep your breaths slow and deep.

A few moments of silence go by before Hailee speaks up, the question she asks breaking your heart a little. “y/n…why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t realize it had gotten so bad.” Your words are laced with both honesty and small traces of guilt. “I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry, baby, I should’ve known.” Her grip on you tightens the slightest bit and it's obvious to you how genuine her concern is. It makes your heart flutter in your chest, the love that flows between you being more than enough to help your leftover discomfort disappear.

“Hailee, you’ve been so busy lately, it’s okay.”

“That’s not an excuse,” she argues. “I made you move here with me and then ditched you every day when I didn’t even need to be on set.”

You hate the way she blames herself but you know it’s only because she cares about you so much. It turns the whole situation into an easy pill to swallow. “Lee, I moved here with you because I wanted to. I love you, and I love New York, it’s just a lot to wrap my head around and that’s not your fault.”

She chuckles but the sound comes out a tad too deflated for your liking. “I’m supposed to be comforting you, not the other way around, love.”

“We can comfort each other. It doesn’t have to be a competition." You tilt your head slightly so you can gaze up at the proud owner of your heart. You pretend not to notice the thin layer of tears in her eyes, not wanting to spend any more time dwelling on the bad.

You're in your girlfriend's arms with nothing but time to spend with each other. And that's what matters to you.

"You...are way too sweet for your own good, you know that?"

She doesn't give you time to argue with her. Instead, she leans down and captures your lips with her own. You practically melt in her arms. After going almost a full day without her, this was heaven on Earth, you were sure of it.

You reluctantly pull away from the kiss, the smile on your face wider and more genuine than it's been all week. "I know you wanted to go out but how about we order pizza and watch a trashy rom-com?"

"You read my mind, baby."

#hailee steinfeld x reader #hailee steinfeld x female reader #hailee steinfeld x you #hailee steinfeld x y/n #hailee steinfeld fic #hailee steinfeld fluff #hailee steinfeld imagine #hailee steinfeld fanfiction #hailee steinfeld #hawkeye #hawkeye fanfic #mcu #mcu fanfiction #mcu imagine #marvel #wlw #wlw fic #writing

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chimchimmarie · 4 months

Text

OUT OF THE FRIEND ZONE (Part Two)

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Genre: College Au, Friends to Lovers

Word Count: 1,500ish

Summary: Jimin finally realizes he wants out of the friendzone, but will you feel the same way when he finally makes his feelings known?

AN: I finally found the time to write pt. 2. I hope you like it. I listened to “Fire Away” by John Michael Howell while writing this.

Read Part One.

The mood in this movie night has quickly shifted from playful banter between friends into one in which you feel judged for sharing that you had finally met someone. You feel yourself crawling into yourself more and more. For a moment, it feels like your friends were ganging up on you, deeming you as some unattractive, poor excuse for a woman who is unworthy of attention and love.

They didn’t actually say that, of course. But your mind has gone into the rabbit hole of overthinking that fast. At this point, you believe it’s becoming more of a second nature to you. You just can’t help it, and you hate yourself for it.

The whole conversation had really made you so self-conscious. You genuinely believe that Taehyung doesn’t mean to hurt you in any way. He’s not a bad person. He’s your best friend. But sometimes words could cut even if you don’t intend them to.

You just don’t get why he just had to make it sound like you’re making the biggest mistake of your life, that you’re being crazy for wanting to finally date.

What’s wrong with dating anyway? Don’t you have a right to meet guys and go out on actual dates?

Are you really that awful as a person to the point that even your friends would forbid you to go out with a guy you think is great?

You feel so betrayed. What kind of friends would gaslight you into thinking you aren’t good enough to date?

And if they tell you one more time that this is them being protective of you, then they’re being complete jerks. This is absurd, you think. You’re a consenting adult, capable of making choices for yourself. And you don’t need to be babied like a middle schooler.

By the time Jimin showed up, Taehyung started acting more frantic than he was prior. He’s still going on and on on why you can’t be thinking about going out with Namjoon. The other guys chimed in, too. Going so far as judging him because he’s a varsity player. But you genuinely think that Namjoon looks decent and nice for someone who plays sports.

He’s nothing like most jocks you’ve come across with in campus. Most of which have either been a fuckboy or a totally egotistic maniac. Namjoon was a great guy. And all these misconstrued notions they have of him is getting in your nerves.

Jimin has been quiet ever since. He hasn’t said a single word to you. He didn’t back you up like he usually does. He’s being too quiet, actually. You’ve been trying to catch his eyes but he hasn’t looked at you since he entered the room. He also suddenly picked a seat on the floor, instead of his usual spot next to you. It’s almost as if he’s suddenly ignoring you.

Feeling so frustrated, you fire back at Taehyung, raising your voice and startling everyone in the room.

“And why should I listen to you!? You’re not my dad, none of you are! You can’t tell me what I can or cannot do! ”

“Oh come on, that’s not even what I’m trying to do, y/n. I’m just worried about—“

“Worried about what?? Can’t you just be happy for me for once?! Damn it Tae!”

“Hey, hey, guys… Stop it. We came here to watch a movie and hang out. Come on.” Jin tries to pacify the tension while blocking your view of Taehyung.

“Right. I’m sorry Y/N. I didn’t mean to—“

You didn’t even let Tae finish, you stood up and made a beeline for the door.

Before you could hit the elevator button, a firm warm hand grips on your wrist.

“Y/n. Please… Don’t leave.”

You recognize Jimin’s voice. You feel the warmth of his body close to you. His scent overpowering you for a moment.

You scoff as you try to pry your hands away.

“So, now you speak. Where were you when Tae was in my face the whole time in there?”

You turn around with much force, yanking your arm away from his hold.

“He doesn’t mean it. He’s just—”

“—being Tae. Right. And I’m supposed to just let it slide, like every time?” You cut him off. Frustration and disappointment laced heavily in your tone.

“You know what, I’m sick and tired of taking all this shit from you guys. Whenever I talk to you about my dating life, you get like this. EVERY. DAMN. TIME! Am I not allowed to do that? Is there some kind of rule that I cannot go out there and meet people? I know you guys care about me, but for crying out loud, stop treating me like the helpless little sister you never had!”

The silence that followed your outburst was excruciating. Jimin was wide eyed as he watches you lash out on him, mouth agape and jaw stuttering before he could manage to respond.

“That’s not how I ever saw you.” His voice was soft it’s almost a whisper.

“What?” You ask.

“I never saw you as just a little sister y/n.” Jimin pauses to look at you.

You don’t understand where he’s trying to go with this but you keep mum and decide to let him talk.

“You were more than just that to me. You have no idea.” He scoffs. He keeps his eyes on you as continues to speak his mind.

“And can you please stop thinking that we’re ganging up on you. That we don’t care. That we’re out here to hurt you—God! That’s the last thing we’d ever want for you! And Tae—he’s just trying to… get me to do something about it.”

“About what?” You press him to go on.

Jimin seems hesitant to speak again but he decides it was now or never.

“Y/n, listen to me. Don’t go out with Namjoon. I—“

“Jimin, not you too! For fuck’s sake just—“

“I like you, okay!! There! I said it! I like you!” He cuts you off, hands thrown in the air.

You stop moving and breathing altogether. His sudden confession rendered you unable to speak. You didn’t really know how to respond to that. You feel like you’ve been blindsided by your best friend. You just stood there with eyes bulging, seemingly shocked at what he had just blurted out. Before you could figure out what to say, he’s talking again.

“Look, this isn't how I wanted to do this. Part of the reason Tae acted so rashly is because he knows I was supposed to tell you tonight after the movie but.. you just—I mean, you’ve started seeing people and you’re not supposed to—I mean, I can’t dictate what you can or cannot do.. but.. I haven’t… I just… I had to— God, why is this so hard!? I feel like an idiot!”

Jimin pauses to catch his breath. He rakes his fingers through his hair as frustration starts to crawl up to him.

Taking a step closer to where you’ve been frozen in place, Jimin takes your trembling hands in his. In another breath, he bares his soul to you.

“I’m in love with you y/n. I have for quite some time now. I just— I haven’t been brave enough to admit it. Even to myself. But I want to change that now. And this is me finally doing what I should have done the first time I realized it.”

Jimin watches you for any reactions. But you’re beyond speechless with how things turned out. You’re suddenly hyperaware of his existence in front you.

He’s held you like this before, so many times actually that you’ve lost count already. But the touch of his skin and the way he tightens his grip suddenly feels foreign to you. It almost feels wrong. Like he’s not supposed to hold you like this. He’s your best friend. He’s not supposed to touch you and tell you these absurd things while looking at you like… like he… like he’s actually in love with you.

“Please say something?” He demands with his voice that suddenly sounds so sweet yet yearning.

You look into his eyes as your mind goes haywire in full panic mode and all you can think of doing at the moment is the one thing you genuinely believe you’re good at—running.

And so that’s what you do. You run.

You run from this situation. From your best friend. From the feelings that suddenly feels so suffocating.

Your voice finds you as you tremble and break the contact to hastily step back into the elevator.

“I… I can’t— I can’t do this.. Jimin, I—I’m sorry.”

As you wait for the doors to close., the last image you see is Jimin’s hopeful eyes morph into pain. Like someone just ripped his heart out of his chest.

Part Three tbc.

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agentmarvel · 6 months

Text

Pairing: John Price/Reader

AU - Professor!Price & TA!Reader

MDNI - 18+ (minors and ageless blogs WILL BE BLOCKED)

Part 2 of 2 (part 1 here)

Read on ao3

♡

Kate Laswell is the only person John tells about you. It’s her guidance he seeks when he realizes how far up the creek without a paddle he is. Figures you have your confidant, he may as well assume his own. He’s known her longer than anyone else, and he knows she knows all the loopholes, since she faced a vaguely similar situation a few semesters before. All worked out well for her, so there’s hope for him, too, right?

John sits in her office, door locked and lights off. It’s safer that way; far less potential for eavesdroppers and interruptions.

“Oh, you’re in deep on this one, Price,” Kate chides with a grin over the edge of her coffee mug.

“That’s putting it mildly. What am I supposed to do here, Kate? It feels like every decision I make is wrong.”

“Why don’t you start by telling me about her,” she implores as she takes a sip, a soft smile etched into her fine-lined features.

He ponders for a moment on where to start, but when the dam breaks, it all just spills out. Nothing and everything, all at once. He tells Kate how fucking beautiful he thinks you are, all the things he absolutely adores about you, even the tiny little details, like your stupid red pen and the time he saw you yell at a vending machine on a bad day. He tells her about the way you work so well with students, and how helpful you are to him; what a stellar conversationalist you are, but how well you listen as well. He tells her about how you always make him laugh, how reassuring and kind and caring you are, how you really are every single thing he’s ever wanted rolled into one singular being, and he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about that very thing since -

“You’re falling in love, aren’t you?”

“Aw, hell, Kate… What kind of pubescent horseshit - ”

“Answer the question, John.”

“Kate - “

“Yes or no, Price.” Her voice is firm but friendly, telling him to cut the shit and at least consider the possibility.

In a stunned silence, John sits with his thoughts for a moment, eyes locked on Kate as she cocks an eyebrow. He thinks back on his short-lived first marriage, how that the military was both the beginning and end of it. Felt more like convenience and holding off loneliness in his time between deployments than it ever did truly being in love. The second, while lasting exponentially longer, also felt equally as devoid. While he cared for that second wife on some level, it didn’t quite reach the depth of how he feels now, how he feels about you. If neither bout rang of actual, genuine emotional connection, then he can say with absolute honesty that, no, John Price has never really been in love. Not until now.

Everything around him seems to slow to a stop. He can no longer hear the ticking of the clock on the wall, only the rhythmic pounding in his chest. It’s like a switch is flicked, and the lightbulb in his head brightens until it bursts, sending fragments flying into every corner. He’s not stupid enough to try to touch that filament, so he allows it to settle. In a haze of falling glass, suddenly it all makes sense to him again. A revelation that he can’t tamp down now that it’s been put into words.

“...yeah, I think I am.”

Every nerve in his body is alight, begging him to scream it from the rooftops, make sure the whole world knows.

He can’t yet, but he wants to.

“Christ,” he mutters instead, raking a hand through his hair. “I’ve gone and fucked all this up, haven’t I?”

“Perhaps,” Kate muses, tucking an errant blonde strand behind her ear before folding her empty hands together on the desktop. “I mean, you did reject the poor girl at a very opportune - not to mention vulnerable - moment…” She sighs. “But I don’t think you’re completely beyond the realm of forgiveness. Find the right way to apologize to her, and she may start to let you back in.”

He’s unusually hesitant. Apologies have never been his strong suit. He’s painfully headstrong, rarely wrong and rarer to admit, so this is new territory. Mentally, he ticks off all the clichés, like flowers or a box of chocolates with a little card of a briefly expressed remorse or a surprise picnic where he spills his guts to you in hopes of some form of clemency. He wants to plan something bigger, more grandiose, more romantic, but Kate interjects before he can even begin.

“I can see the gears turning. Stop overthinking it, John. Just buy the girl some damn flowers, and tell her you’re sorry.”

♡

He did it. Bought you flowers, that is. Early this morning, he picked up a big fall arrangement in a stunning crystal vase. Took him way too fucking long to choose and he was almost late, but John’s pretty sure it’ll all be worth the look on that gorgeous face of yours when you see it. He takes his time placing it perfectly on your desk, giving you the fullest view upon first sight, and he tucks a little white envelope under the edge of the glass.

It took quite a bit of time for him to even write the note inside. He wanted to convey how he feels without dragging out a full confession of just how hopelessly head-over-heels he is; that goal seemed to fall short beneath the tip of the pen as he all but outright tells you he loves you in neatly corded letters. The words on the page felt sufficient at the time, and he has to shut himself in his office to stop himself from second guessing to the point of re-writing it or just throwing it away period.

When the light kicks on in your office a few minutes after the start of his day, John feels his stomach flip. He hears a striking thud and a gasp of ‘aww’, and he’s cursing inwardly that he just had to have a student come in right at 8:00. After a few beats of silence, he hears a couple sniffles, and it has him a bit worried. Mr. Garrick would probably be understanding if he wanted to pop in and check on you, but he continues to talk to John like he doesn’t notice it, even if his expression softens just a little and his eyes dart to the side each time he hears it, too.

“So, does this mean you’re looking forward to finishing it?” John asks in earnest. Kyle had been quite vocal all semester about how much he was looking forward to exploring Stephen King’s Carrie, especially with it falling right around Halloween. It’s been a long time since John’s seen anyone but you get excited about his choice novels, even if they do tend to change every year.

“I actually, uh, finished it last week,” Kyle admits shyly. “Honestly, I just couldn’t put it down. I couldn’t just stop at her turning around to go home after all the shit she blew up! I needed to know what happened next, so I read ahead.”

Well, there’s no way John can be upset about that. It’s not every day one of these kids expressed interest in anything they’re reading. More often than not, they bitch about the amount of reading - if they even do it, that is. He can always tell the students that use Cliffs Notes or Sparknotes instead of actually doing the reading. So, the fact that Kyle, even just one student, is genuinely enjoying it - no, genuinely looking forward to reading more - seems to make all the work John’s put into this semester worth the while.

They go back and forth for a while, discussing the thematic elements and John details the rationale behind the novel’s subsequent banning in a majority of American schools. It’s a long geekfest between the two of them, and the only disruption is Mr. Garrick’s sudden realization that he’d stayed far too long and was late for his class.

“Thanks again, Professor Price!” he chirps, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “I’m really looking forward to what’s next!”

He darts out of the room, practically slamming the door behind him. John cringes as the latch bounces into the frame, and he sighs heavily, grateful for today’s break in his normally hectic schedule. Only two students on his books today; one of which is already out of the way, the other not until this afternoon. Gives him time to do more overthinking while he waits for you to free up.

Settling himself further into his chair, John logs into his desktop and starts inputting grades from last week. Keeping his hands busy will help in keeping his mind busy, considering the small second voice in your office. From the sounds of it, it’s Ms. Graves.

It fascinates him, the way the two of you interact. You speak with her much differently than the other students who occupy your days without classes. There’s a much more candid sense of honesty, and he’s never heard either of you speak with such raw enthusiasm.

“What about ’Lullaby’ by the Cure?” he hears Pia ask.

“Good choice; how about Echo & the Bunnymen’s ‘the Killing Moon’?” you respond. He hears a hum of consideration, a few exchanged whispers - and some laughter - and that gets his attention.

Yeah, fuck it. He’s too invested in eavesdropping now to continue to pretend to be busy.

He hears the exchange of several more artists: the Cramps, Electric Light Orchestra, Prince, Oingo Boingo, the Doors, Bowie, Blondie, Siouxsie and the Banshees; all of which strike him with a baton of nostalgia. Lots of favorites in there, especially music he enjoyed growing up; some of his father’s top choices, too.. He’s only marginally impressed that the two of you can volley like this; you do enjoy 90s boy bands, after all. Bound to know plenty, eh?

Speaking of which, he hears Pia thank you for your suggestions. Her backpack rattles as he’s sure she’s tossing it on her shoulder, and he hears your office door close. He’s pretty certain you’ll have another appointment coming in soon, so he takes the opportunity to pop over.

“What was that about?” he asks from the now open doorway, expression curious. You look up from your laptop and smile more sincerely than he’s observed in a while, and John sees that big bouquet sitting front and center on your desk. That stirs his stomach and wakes the butterflies, fresh from the cocoons he’d tried to build over the weekend. They flutter this way and that, and he’s filled with a renewed desire to kiss you; one that never wanes, but ebbs and flows in intensity. Right now? Oh, right now, he wants to so god damn bad…

“Pia learns better with music. She listens while she reads, and it helps her remember the content when she listens to it again. Her grade has improved a lot since we started making playlists together.”

It sends a wave of warmth through his chest, the thought that you’ve been doing this for a few weeks. You’re arguably more dedicated to his students than he is at times, which says quite a bit. He’s pretty sure the look on his face matches up to those cartoons a lot of his students watch - what’s it called? Oh! Anime! He looks like every character that’s ever seen food or a pretty girl - heart eyes, pink cheeks, and an open mouth bordering on drooling.

“We sit down together at the start of every unit and make a playlist that matches the decade. Helps keep her centered in the story and prevents overlap so no information bleeds over from another book. It’s remarkable, reading her work and seeing her test scores; she’s really flourishing, Professor Price.”

John’s awestruck.

“Oh! Can I ask a favor?” Your inquiry draws his eyebrow up, implying you may ask. “Would you be willing to let her listen to music during the final? I’m willing to go old school, if you’re worried she’ll cheat; I have an old iPod at home that I can load up with the music, and we can keep it locked in your office until then. You’re welcome to go through it, too, just to make sure nothings hidden or anything. I just really - “

“Hey,” John says softly, effectively silencing you. “If you think she’ll do better being allowed to listen to music, we can make that work, love. I trust your judgment.”

If the incoming is any indicator, the flowers were the right call. You’re thawing, spring seemingly on its way, and Price will have to send Kate some sort of gift of gratitude.

You leap from your desk, and the next thing he knows, you’re throwing your arms around his neck, giving him a tight squeeze. He doesn’t register what’s happening in time to wrap himself around you, palms rising to meet you a beat too slow, and he finds himself missing the warmth radiating from your skin as you step back just as quickly. Your hands clasp in front of your chest, and you’re positively beaming.

“Thank you, Professor! I… We really appreciate it. Pia is going to be so happy!”

He can’t fight off the smile on his face. It’s absolutely adorable when you get excited; you’re wearing the same expression as the day he agreed to dance with you. He refuses to let this end the same way, so he takes a different path.

“She seems different with you,” he notes aloud. “Definitely not the same Ms. Graves I see in class.”

“Oh, I, uh… I know her pretty well outside of class. I… dated her brother for a while when I was doing my undergrad work.” You don’t seem too pleased to admit the latter, judging by your expression and the sudden appearance of nerves. He’d be lying if he said he was pleased to hear it. His stomach gnarls itself at the mere thought of you being with anyone else. To consider that someone else has kissed you, touched you, made love to you; that’s enough to make him crazy if he dwells on it too long.

Don’t get him wrong, he’s under no illusion that you’re some sort of saint, even if just the sound of your voice is pure heaven. You’ve spoken about your dating history before, though it’s typically just in overheard fragments to Mr. MacTavish.

“How long?” He wants to clap a hand over his mouth, but it’s too late. The words came out, and he can’t take them back or play it off like he isn’t actually curious. Instead, he stays still, hoping the look on his face reads as if this is friendly conversation and not him prying where he oughtn’t.

You seem surprised by his question, and his blood floods with panic.

“You don’t have to answer that,” he quickly throws out, raising his hands. “I’m so sorry; that was inappropriate.”

“Two years.” You shrug like it’s nothing, and John swallows his gum by accident. He wasn’t expecting that. Maybe a few dates, a couple months tops, but two years? Doesn’t seem possible for a guy like Phillip Graves to sustain a relationship that long, given his penchant for obnoxiously blatant flirtation and his wandering gaze, practically eye-fucking anything with a pulse.

"What happened?" Fuck it. He's going to be a Nosy Nellie. It’s selfish and shady, but he can learn a lot from this. Come hell or high water, he swears he’ll treat you better. He’ll take the lessons learned from lesser men’s fallacies (and/or women’s; he’s got some questions after the last conversation he eavesdropped on between you and Johnny).

“He couldn’t seem to stop flirting with other people, and I’m pretty sure he loved his car more than he ever loved me.” Your laugh is dry and humorless, but your wry smile does extend to your eyes. That tells him you’re over it. The hurt you may have felt when it happened doesn’t linger. Good news for John.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he replies, trying his best to be sympathetic. You shrug again.

“What are you sorry for? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Doesn’t mean I don’t still feel bad that it happened. You deserve better than that.”

He wants to tell you what you really deserve; how you deserve a man, not a man-child. You deserve a man who’s going to take good care of you, worship you, love you selflessly. Someone who will make you breakfast, warm up your car for you in the winter, hold your hand every chance they get. Someone who only has eyes for you. Someone like John.

But he can’t say that, so he doesn’t.

“Yeah, I do,” you agree with a nod. “Know someone who wants to treat me right?”

You say it with a laugh, and John smiles hesitantly, choosing his next words carefully.

“Yeah, I think I might.”

“Oh, yeah? Anybody I know?” It’s coy and cute. You know exactly what he means; he has a feeling you just want to hear him say it. I’d treat you right, honey. Let me show you. He pulls his lower lip between his teeth, giving you a look that feels way too suggestive for the current environment.

“Yeah. I think you know him pretty well, actually,” he shrugs, nonchalantly holding his expression. “He’d be good to you.”

“Well, slip him my number, would ya? I could do with a nice date night soon.” You throw him a wink before turning back to your laptop, and John slowly slinks back into his office. Before he can close the door, you call for him again. He pops his head back in and sees his white envelope held up between your index and middle fingers, the flap torn open.

“Thank you for the flowers, sir. They’re beautiful.”

♡

There’s a rule in film: if you mention a gun in the first act, it must go off in the second. That’s not directly how the quote itself goes and this most certainly isn’t a film, but it still rings true.

It was only a matter of time before the proverbial gun went off, now that Price has inquired into your history with Phillip Graves. He didn’t expect it to happen so soon, though. Only a week passes before the soon-to-be-graduate rears his ugly little head.

“Oh, feminism, huh?”

The voice comes from your office, sultry and low, just barely within a range for John to hear it. His skin prickles, hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. He knows that voice; it’s the very one that’s haunted him for days now, whispering sweet nothings into your ear and holding you close in a way John is desperate to, but cannot yet. It’s Graves, the little prick, and that makes him nauseous.

You’re trying your hardest to explain the running theme of feminism in Carrie with the unit coming to a close, and Phillip’s ignoring the help you offer in favor of instead taking certain liberties with twisting everything you say into some sort of line or innuendo. Like that would ever work on you; you’re too smart not to see through that bullshit. You shut him down every time and ask him to focus on the material so you don’t have to deal with him next semester.

Still, it wrenches John’s gut in a way that bleeds him of his patience. He meant it when he said you deserve better than Phillip, and after the things you told him, there’s no fucking way he’s letting that weasel worm his way back in. You would never, he knows, but he doesn’t want Phillip having even the slightest sliver of hope.

Before he can stop himself, he’s knocking at the dividing door.

“Come in,” you call sweetly. He opens the door and sticks his head in, plastering the kindest, fakest smile on his face. You return the look as Graves sucks at his teeth, looking markedly impatient and making his irritation known.

“I’m so sorry to interrupt,” John says, syrup seeping into his tone. “But I think I might have accidentally deleted my gradebook. Can I borrow you for two quick seconds?”

“Of course,” you answer, tone laced with a bit more haste than either man apparently anticipated. “Excuse me just a moment, Mr. Graves. I’ll be right back in.”

You stand and push in your chair, making John’s stomach leap in the process. You’ve got on that burnt orange corduroy skirt that hugs your hips the way he’d someday like his hands to do and a plain, black, long sleeve top that matches the cling. It does nothing to disguise your perfect figure, his ideal figure, thrusting his erratically-beating heart into his throat entirely involuntarily. He never forgets how beautiful you are, not even for a second, but the visual reminders are always welcome.

He can feel the relief rolling off you in waves. Your expression stays neutral as you smooth out your skirt. There’s a gentle sway in your steps as you round the desk and follow John into his office. As he closes the door gently, you bee-line for his computer. A few clicks, and you look to him over your shoulder, perplexed, while he moves to stand behind you.

“Professor, your gradebook is fine. It’s right here.” You point at the monitor, and John nods.

“I know.”

“Then why - “

The words die on your tongue as John’s hands delicately close around the curve of your jaw. He hears the softest hitch in your breathing as he leans forward, half-lidded eyes searching your expression for any indicator that you want him to stop. He owes you that much.

“I should’ve done this weeks ago,” he murmurs, stroking a thumb across your cheek.

“John, what are you - “

His lips crash into yours, mouths meshing together like pieces of a puzzle, a perfect fit. It feels like centuries he’s waited for this moment, and the fire it spurs in his soul feels only comparable to the sun, licking up his throat like a solar flare.

You’re hesitant at first, rightfully so, but it doesn’t last long before that flame of desire kindles within you, and you melt into him, body molding to his. A particular breadth of warmth spreads across his chest as your hands come to rest against it. The tips of your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt, twisting it in your fist as you tug him impossibly closer. He’ll take the time to map and memorize every inch of you when he isn’t so consumed by the way you move in tandem without faltering as you become so wholly entangled with each other.

As his arms ensnare your waist in a vise-like hold, one of your hands, so soft and kind, nails painted a pretty shade of plum, threads itself into his hair. John has to bite down to stop himself from outright moaning into your mouth, the favored fantasy that often played out while he masturbated seemingly coming to life just in one movement. Your lower lip somehow gets trapped between his teeth, though, and you are the one to moan, hushed and soft, just for him to hear.

Fuck, if that doesn’t fuel the fire inside his abdomen. He’ll do anything, any-fucking-thing, to hear that sound again and again and again.

He walks you backwards until he feels the edge of his desk pressing against your backside. The hold he had on your waist is abandoned in favor of assuming a sturdy grip on the back of your soft thighs. No warning is given when he suddenly lifts you, depositing you on the top of his desk. He slots himself between your knees and leans over you, still wrapped in this heated exchange. The tip of your tongue flickers against his only briefly, and it makes him borderline feral with want.

Your thighs get one little squeeze before John lands one hand on your back and the other just below your ear. He guides you down until he’s practically laying on top of you. Instinct guides your legs to hitch over his hips, and he’s well aware that you can feel the growing bulge in his slacks pressing up against your covered center. He ruts into you feverishly and mindlessly, desperately chasing another of those sweet little noises.

He almost whines when he feels you pulling away from him, mouths separating only for you to press your forehead against his. There’s an attempt to reconnect on his behalf, but you decline with the softest whisper of his name.

“John, there’s still a student in my office.” He can feel the smile on your lips as he moves to your neck. His lips seal over a spot where he can feel your pulse racing. It sends more blood south, having even the slightest inkling that you’re just as affected as he is, and he struggles to stave off the urge to rip a hole in the middle of your pantyhose and see just how affected you are.

“So?” he grunts, nose nudging your ear lobe as he lowers his voice more. “Let the little bastard sit there. Let him hear how a real man treats a fuckin’ prize like you.”

You swat his chest playfully, chiding him for encouraging you to shirk your responsibilities; the responsibilities assigned to you by him, no less. Your thighs squeeze his midsection again when you guide his face back to yours, stealing another peck before holding his gaze with a softer expression.

“He’s a nightmare, I know, but he’s still paying for a quality education. Just give me ten minutes to wrap this up, and I’m all yours.”

I’m all yours - those three simple words loop in his head, a phrase he’s ached for, longed to hear, for months. His heart clenches at the thought; summer nights on the porch swing, his hand on your thigh while he drives, letting you fall asleep on his chest. He wants it all. He wants every inch of love and affection you can offer and wants to give his in return. In this moment, the way you’re looking at him through your lashes, it’s so sorely tempting to say three different words back. He can’t yet, but he wants to.

“I hate to seem impatient, love, but I don’t think I can wait another ten minutes.” His thumb strokes across your cheek endearingly, and just beneath his finger tips, he can feel your heartbeat hammering away. “Don’t know how I ever lasted a minute without you now that I’ve got little taste of ya.”

You let him kiss you again, chaste and tender, a stark contrast to the frenzy he felt in the minutes before.

“You always been such a sweet-talker, Price?” you whisper with a grin, reaching up to brush a loose strand of hair away from his forehead. He huffs out a muted laugh, trying to stifle his amusement. “Keep it up, and I might just let you keep me.”

John’s quiet a moment, basking in your borderline ethereal glow, before he murmurs, “I like the sound of that.”

A beat passes, appreciative and intimate glances exchanged, the two of you sharing breath. Oh, how hard-pressed he is to move, to allow the contact to dissipate, to willingly let you out of his arms, his sight, to shoo away the little leech awaiting on the other side of the door. It’s unfathomable, in his mind. Months of waiting, weeks of agonizing, and now that he’s got you exactly where he wants you, he has to let you go for even a second? Inconceivable. Preposterous.

With a gentle palm against his chest, though, you manage to convince him. He wraps his fingers around yours and lifts himself off of you with a checked grunt. God, you look beautiful like this - splayed out across the top of his desk, skirt rucked up higher than would be decent to make room for his large frame to slot between your thighs, chest rising and falling steadily, though you still seem breathless. The sight alone requires him to reach down with his unoccupied hand and adjust his stiff length just to make the wait bearable.

He pulls you to your feet, still careful to keep you close to him. Graceful touches follow as he helps you right your hair and smooth out your clothing. When nothing wayward is left to stall, you press your lips to his one more time and turn on your heel, eyes promising a swift return as he plants himself back in his chair.

♡

It doesn’t go further than that for the remaining weeks of the semester, but that doesn’t mean Price isn’t counting down the days. While there’s still plenty of heated makeout sessions and aggressively building sexual tension, he finds other ways to show his affection in the interim; he brings you coffee every morning, walks you to your car after hours because it gets dark out far earlier in the winter, sets the heater in the lecture hall a few degrees higher than he’d like to ensure you’re comfortable throughout classes.

Restraint is gentlemanly. Just because he’s no longer deterring himself from chasing you doesn’t mean he’s willing to forgo all the rules. Though he’s following his heart down a path that leads straight to you, his stubbornness won’t allow him to jeopardize your future. Plausible deniability until you’re safely under the tutelage of another professor.

He discussed the transfer with you long before requesting it. You were surprisingly amenable to making the change once John made it clear that it wasn’t based on your performance. He adores you, admires the work you’ve put in for both him and his students, and he’d be remiss if he let you think for a second that you’ve been anything less than perfect.

No, no. He only broached the subject in hopes of fostering the seed you’d planted months ago. The little seed that is only now peeking through the topsoil. A burgeoning affair of the heart that he’s hoping to see blossom into something far more beautiful very soon, something you can grow together. He’s already fully committed to making sure it gets plenty of water and sunshine, but having you remain his TA would flood the garden and keep the skies cloudy. Nothing could flourish unhindered that way.

That’s not quite how he phrased it to you, though. He still plays his cards close to his chest and has yet to confess the full extent of his feelings. You’ve off-handedly mentioned bits and pieces of your near future plans - plans that John’s certainly a part of - but any discussion about where your entanglement is headed beyond stolen kisses has been… unclear. He’s not a presumptuous man. It’s not his place to assume you’re on the same page, to assume you want an actual relationship with him.

So, to avoid the pressure of expectations or labels, he simply said, “I’d feel better about seeing where this goes if you were under another instructor. It would be unfair of me to ask you to wait another semester. You don’t deserve to be kept a secret, love.”

The request was put in shortly after, though Simon had already signed off on it over a week before John even mentioned it to you.

He only briefly second guesses that decision seeing you now, hovering in the doorway between offices. You look as beautiful as always, sporting a simple, sensible sweater dress that accentuates your delightfully buxom figure. What’s unusual is the mournful smile on your lips and the banker’s box in your hands.

Your watery eyes, swimming with unshed tears, scan over his office. You sigh heavily through your nose, biting your lip to stop it from quivering. John is immediately thrust into comfort mode, ready to soothe whatever savage beast has upset you so.

“What’s the matter, sweet girl?” he asks softly, pushing aside the last of the stack of final exams atop his desk. Those can wait a bit longer; another day if need be.

“Oh, nothing,” you answer, clearly willing your voice not to crack. “Just a little sad that this is the last day. I’m really going to miss my office.”

It’s the little sniffle that follows that makes his chest ache. He’s smart enough to read between the lines. This has nothing to do with your office.

Without thought, Price automatically pushes his chair back and stands, shortening the distance that separates you in just a few strides. He takes the box from your hands, setting it in the empty seat closest to you. You’re looking at the floor now, avoiding his gaze. A curled finger beneath your chin tilts your head back up and gives you to choice but to look at him.

“Don’t you give me that nonsense,” he chides with a soft smile. “What is it really, darling? Tell me what’s on your mind.”

A few stray tears fall between blinks, and John is quick to wipe them away with the pad of his thumb. He’s sure you can see every ounce of worry etched into his features, even as much as he’s trying to mask it.

“I’m scared, John.” The admission surprises him. “I don’t like change. I don’t like not knowing what to expect.”

“I promise you, my dear, everything is going to be perfectly fine. Professor Riley will take excellent care of you. He’s a wealth of knowledge; well-versed, brilliant. I trust him. As for your office, it’ll be exactly as you leave it any time you want to come visit.”

“It’s not just that,” you interject, chewing at the inside of your cheek. There’s something more on the tip of your tongue, and he tilts his head just enough to prompt you to say it. “I just… I won’t get to spend as much time with you, will I?”

Price frowns.

“You’ll have all the time you want with me. Needn’t but ask, and I’ll be right there.”

That’s not what he wants to say. What he wants is to tell you that he’d sooner have you planted in his lap every second of every day so he never has to be away from you, that he doesn’t particularly enjoy the thought of sharing your time with any other man for any period of time (even if it is just Simon), that he values every fleeting moment he spends with you over any material thing in existence...

“It’s not just about what I want, John,” you counter in a hushed, wobbly voice. “What do you want?”

He sighs, taking your pretty face in his large hands. His mind is racing through a rolodex of anything and everything he could possibly say to keep that more lax, collected façade he’s curated intact; but the second he feels another tear drip onto his hand, it all goes out the window. He asks you to look at him, and you do. You look up at him with those bright, kind, teary eyes, and any ounce of resolve or restraint left in John’s body crumbles to bits. He takes a long blink and just lets the words come out how they may, consequences be damned.

“I want you. Whatever you’re ready for, whatever you’re willing to give, I just want you.”

Words are often said to carry weight; some far too heavy, some not quite so, but all with their own heft. Like rocks tied to the soul, his grandmother used to say. Choose them wisely, and use them with caution, lest you be burdened by the stones in your mind. But John Price has never felt so weightless and free as the moment a syrupy, surreptitious smile settles on his lips and he utters a phrase he didn’t ever anticipate using before even taking you on a proper date: “I love you.”

Your expression softens. Dumbstruck, your mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water. Your eyes search through even the deepest recesses of his, looking for some sign of deception or jest, but there is none to be found. Never will be. Not with him.

After a few beats of silence, John clears his throat, admittedly a bit sheepish.

“You don’t have to say it back. Just couldn’t -”

“No, John, I-I… I love you, too.”

He doesn’t waste even a fraction of a second pulling you into him further for a searing kiss, one you melt into as soon as his lips meet yours. It’s nothing like the dozens of times he’s kissed you before; there’s nothing frantic or frenzied or feverish about it this time. True, it gets his heart racing all the same. His blood still sings with the same carnal cravings. But his mind and body do not share the driver’s seat this time. No, this time, his heart has the wheel.

It’s almost instantaneous, how hard he gets while just kissing you. Happens every time, but this is the first where he doesn’t feel such an innate need to hide it from you. He has nothing left to hide anymore.

You’re held there in a languid but torrid lip-lock until your fingers curl into the collar of his sweater, like you’re trying to pull him impossibly closer. The first little tug begs for more, and John takes a step forward to grant your wish, effectively backing you into the wall. The second tug draws his hands downward, skating oh so gracefully along your sides until his firm grip settles around the curve of your hips. He gives you a gentle squeeze there, just tense enough to make you gasp before he licks into your mouth.

The feeling of his tongue sliding past your teeth seems to spark something wild in you. You abandon the give of his collar, instead weaving your fingers through his hair. An experimental tug makes him grunt - something you seem to like given the way your back arches from the wall, canting your hips up into his. John takes the opportunity to wedge his knees between your thighs, pressing securely against your clothed cunt. Your tongue prods his back as you grind into him a time or two, and like an electric shock, the motion has him pulling back just enough to speak clearly.

“You want me, pretty girl?” he asks gruffly, breathlessly. It’s near impossible to stop his eyes from migrating, but the way you’re fighting the urge to let your eyes roll back when you rub yourself against him again keeps him entranced. “Tell me, baby. Tell me what you want.”

“Just… Just want you,” you pant, biting your lip, failing to hide the sweet little whimper that slips out.

“Yeah? That all you want, sweetie? You already have me. I’m all yours.”

“You know what I mean, John.”

He chuckles.

“You’ll need to be more specific than that, love. I haven’t spent all semester with a TA that can’t use her words, have I?” He clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “That won’t do at all, my love. Tell me exactly what you want, and I might just give it to you.”

“I-I want - oh fuck - I want your cock stuffed so deep i-inside me that I can f-feel it for days.” You whine, assuming a steady pace. It’s the most gorgeous sound he’s ever heard. “Need you to fill me up. Been waiting for months, John.”

His mind goes blank. He’s dumbfounded. An entire dictionary at his disposal, and the only word that comes out of his mouth in response is a hushed, “Fuck.”

You seem to have usurped his confidence, based on the way you’re looking at him as you whisper, “Let me show you.”

Before he can process any of it, you’re guiding him back to his chair and sinking to your knees. Deft fingers make quick work of his belt while you mouth openly along the bulge in his slacks. He swears he’s dreaming when those dark blue nails unfasten the button and begin to pull down his zipper.

Something in him short-circuits when he looks down and sees the wet patch you’ve left just above his knee. Either you’ve soaked through your panties, or you don’t have any on; he’ll find out which is the case soon enough, but it’s enough to keep him hard for hours.

His eyes dart back to your face, and you’re looking up at him expectantly, tugging his pants and briefs down in tandem, asking him so very sweetly to have a seat. Like a well-trained dog, he obeys, lower layers shoved to his ankles. Tugging a hair tie from your wrist, you make quick work of pulling your hair back. Once done, you only break eye contact to trail a fingertip down his throbbing erection, a haughty smirk tugging at your lips every time it twitches beneath your touch.

“You’ve got the prettiest dick I’ve ever seen,” you mutter, palming it as it lays against his stomach just enough to incite a sharp gasp.

“Don’t tease me, woman,” he groans. “Been waitin’ just as long.”

Almost too delicately, you wrap your hand around his cock, middle finger and thumb barely missing each other. You give him a tight squeeze, making those fingers meet as you painstakingly slowly begin to pump the base. His head falls back against the chair with a muted thud, and the second his eyes close, you have your lips wrapped around his tip.

Your tongue flickers over that sensitive spot just below the head, and John sees white spots behind his eyelids. It’s been so long since anything has felt this good. In fact, he’s not sure if anything ever has. Nothing compares to you. Not by a long shot.

As heavy as those eyelids feel, he lifts his head, forcing himself to watch you work so he can commit every second to memory. That warm, wet, wanton mouth of yours just keeps sucking him deeper, worshiping each inch you take with appreciative hums and whimpers. The pressure is perfect, especially with your tongue pressed to the underside. Your soft hand works the length you’ve yet to reach, the drool leaking from your lips lubing it up for you.

When he finally nudges the back of your throat, you gag, but you don’t pull back. You push just a little farther first, forcing him into the start of the curve and giving him a swallow. What in the actual fuck did John Price ever do right to deserve an angel like you, huh? How in the hell did he ever get this fucking lucky?

The moment your head starts bobbing in his lap, he swears he’s actually died and gone to heaven, or rather, the closest thing he believes in. He has a deathgrip on the arm of his chair, and to ground himself, he has to put one hand on the back of your head; not pushing, not guiding, just resting to keep himself from floating away entirely.

It’s almost overwhelming, just how god damn good you feel. He’ll never get over it. He’ll never get used to it.

You haven’t stopped stroking that extra length since you started, but the other hand is conspicuously absent. He wonders what that hand is up to, but he can see the smallest sense of movement in your shoulder, and he knows exactly what you’re doing.

“Hands on my legs, love. Don’t you dare touch that cunt,” he growls, renewed confidence seeping down to his marrow. Pretty eyes narrowing just slightly, you place your other hand on his thigh. He can feel how wet your two middle fingers are, slick against his skin. The noise that comes out of him is one he doesn’t recognize - somewhere between a whimper and a moan, but somehow neither - as he grabs your wrist and pulls that hand to his lips. Taking those two fingers, he licks them clean. You’re just as delectable as he imagined, and the need to get his mouth on you rears its head. That little voice in the back of his head tells him you deserve it; it’s only right that he shows you how much he truly loves you after making you wait so long.

You pull his cock from your mouth with a wet pop, kitten-licking the tip between ragged breaths. Still pumping him and keeping pace, you duck your head down a little more. You begin alternating between sucking on his balls and tracing the seam up the middle. It’s only a few switches, but it feels like dozens before you start sucking on his dick again. His hips buck involuntarily, grip on your head tightening when he feels every muscle his abdomen tensing.

“Gonna cum if you don’t ease up,” he warns, but you continue with a hum. He has no choice but to guide you away by your hair, and he just about cums anyway at the sight of you.

Your makeup is smeared, little gray streaks running the length of your face. Your entire chin is glistening in the low warmth of the fading sunlight from the window. A few small, silvery strings of saliva and precum keep you connected just a second longer. Any hope you may have started the day with that your lipgloss would stay put was dashed by the first kiss, but is now an absolute impossibility. John almost feels bad about ruining your morning’s work, and by almost, he means not at all. The smile on your face is more than well worth it.

He stands, pushing the chair back with his legs.

“Get that gorgeous arse of yours on the desk, love.”

Divesting himself of his remaining clothing, he sees your eyes widen just a hair.

“Jesus, John,” you whisper, gaze roving his body like it’s a modern marvel. “You’re fucking perfect.”

“You’re one to bloody talk,” he retorts, letting the hem of his sweater fall from his hand. It crumples into a pile with his slacks, and he’s back on you sooner than it hits the floor.

Another blistering kiss, and he can taste himself on your tongue. It’s heady and intoxicating. Enough so that he’s already laying you back on top of the desk, just like the first time he kissed you.

Like muscle memory, your legs come up astride his waist, and his hands are rucking your dress up over your hips. You only break away from him long enough to pull it the rest of the way off before pulling him back in. The hands used to guide you down work tirelessly to unhook your bra, and both offending garments are tossed aside carelessly. He’ll help you find them later.

He’s the one to disengage this time, the one to stare, the one marveling at the wonder before him. To say you’re beautiful, gorgeous, or any other synonym in his repertoire would be a disservice. There really is no word in the English language - or any other, for that matter - that really captures just how breathtaking you are. Every curve, every line, every mark, mole, freckle, dimple, it merely confirms what he’s surmised from the start: you are perfect.

A slew of words escape him, none of which are coherent to either of you, between the kisses he places along your jaw, down your neck, across your chest. His large hands cup your breasts, pushing them together in the middle. He seals his lips around one of your nipples and lets his tongue move in mindless patterns, adding little sucks or nibbles when he hears you give him a little sigh. The other gets the same treatment immediately following, but he doesn’t forget his mission. A mere detour won’t derail him.

John makes his way down your stomach in a slow trail, leaving hot, wet, open-mouthed kisses. Your hand is in his hair again, and you’re watching him like a hawk, brows furrowed in a throes of ardor.

Another prediction is seasoned as fact when he reaches your pussy. He doesn’t recall any underwear being removed, and yet, you’re bare to him. The evidence of your arousal extends from your lips to your inner thighs, and his cock throbs tirelessly between his legs at the mere thought of his effect on you.

“Cheeky little minx,” he comments, heated breaths washing over your slit. “Were you planning on tonight going this way?”

Almost bashfully, you shake your head.

“I don’t like panty lines,” you cop. “Don’t think anyone else needs to imagine what’s under my clothes.”

He huffs out a chuckle before taking a knee, hitching yours over his shoulders. His arms circle beneath your ass, wrapping around until those big paws are settled on your hips. The tips of his fingers dig into the meat as he hauls you closer to the edge of the desk.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful, sweetheart,” he murmurs between the kisses he lays against your skin, kissing up one thigh, then the other, never taking his eyes off yours while he licks the slick from his lips. “Most stunning creature I’ve seen in all my life. Don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.”

You’re not given the chance to respond before he descends, licking a stripe through your folds with the flat of his tongue. You yelp, grabbing a fistful of his hair. He feels your legs tense, but his hold keeps them from closing around him. As much as he’ll enjoy the free earmuffs on the impending colder nights, he wants you spread out right now.

He drinks you down, savoring how good you taste. You’re keening high in your throat, pulling his hair, digging your heels into his scapulae; he’d gladly spend the rest of his life between your legs if you’d let him.

The tip of his tongue nudges your swollen clit. You arch off the desk, panting. He sucks it between his lips, putting just the right pressure on it in a thrumming cycle. The sounds you’re making whisper of being close to the edge, and he wants to keep pushing.

“John, please,” you whine, squirming in his iron grip. “I want your fingers.”

He releases your clit, flicks his tongue over it one more time just to see you jolt. If you’re going to ask so sweetly, who is he to deny you?

“Yes, ma’am.”

Untangling one arm, Price wastes no time guiding his middle finger into your sopping entrance. It slides in like this is where it belongs. He uses the opposite thumb and forefinger to spread you open, eagerly easing a second finger in.

His hands are much larger than yours; thicker, longer fingers, meatier palms, knotted and scarred knuckles from his time in the service. Two of his digits equal three of yours. He’s gentle, cautious, and the addition of his ring finger lures him into a trance of wonderment, watching with rapt attention as your hole flutters, stretching to accommodate him.

You clench around him, a scarcely audible hiss sneaking between your teeth. The depth he reaches is far more than you’d ever manage on your own, he knows, and when he crooks his fingers, catching that sweet spot, you bow up again, grinding down into his hand.

The blissed out look you aim at him sparks the frenzy, and he’s ravenous, devouring you like a man starved. Lapping at your clit, hand keeping a steady pace, it doesn’t take long before you’re issuing a warning that you’re close.

“Cum for me, pretty girl. Not stoppin’ ‘til you do.”

Your thighs clamp down around him when his efforts double. A dull thunk is barely heard as you throw your head back, and almost on cue, your walls are squeezing him, pulsating as a sharp bout of convulsion hits. He can’t make out the words you’re saying, so he tenderly guides you back down from the peak until you release him.

The heave of your chest as you try to catch your breath gives him pause. While he’s desperate to feel you wrapped around him, milking him for all he’s worth, he’d still be plenty satisfied finishing himself off at home if you needed a break. You look absolutely wrecked already, smeared makeup and mussed hair, sweat beading above your brow. He’s clearly done a number on you already, but when you spread those perfect legs again and start palming your tits in a way that makes his mouth water, John finds himself grabbing a throw pillow from the couch beneath the window.

In a rare display of raw, brute strength, he gathers both your legs in one arm and lifts your ass from the desk just enough to wedge the pillow in. He’s bumped into his own desk enough times to know what a nasty mark it can create, and he’ll be damned if you’re left with any bruises other than the ones he creates with the intimate intent of branding you as his.

“You ready, love?” he asks softly, guiding his drooling cock through your folds. Your wetness slicks him up nicely as you nod, tacking on a gentle ‘please’.

His tip settles in just the right place, and he pushes home in one fell stroke. Your eyes roll back, mouth falling open in a silent moan, and John feels as if the air has been punched from his lungs. He has to steady himself to keep from cumming right then by holding just beneath your rib cage, the natural curve of your waist. It fits so immaculately in his hands, and it roots him into place.

This is real. You’re real. You’re really here, and this is really happening.

“John,” you mewl, placing a delicate hand over one of his.

“Just… Gimme a second, sweetheart,” he mutters with a kind squeeze. “Feels too fuckin’ good bein’ inside you like this.”

One moment bleeds into another, and you’re so patient as he collects himself. No push, no prod, no protest; just the tips of your fingers tracing the veins in the back of his hand until he’s ready. When he is, he gives you a gentle tap of confirmation before experimentally rolling his hips.

He groans, the feeling still so intense as he works in shallow thrusts. You fit him like a glove, like you were made for him and him alone, like you’re meant to be his. A step away from the precipice does him no favors; he knows he’s not going to last long. With the way you’re wrapped around him, looking up at him with a degree of reverence reserved for someone who hand-painted all the stars in the night sky just for you, how could he?

His hips draw back further each stroke now, and he begins to pick up his pace. The meat of his thighs claps against your ass as he pulls your hips towards him at every collision. Your nails bite into his forearms. Every sound you make fuels his primal need to hear more, and he knows he’s hitting all the right spots when you’re slurring out swears and babbling nearly incoherently beneath him.

A bead of sweat drips down to the hollow of his throat. He glances down at where you’re joined, watching your sweet cunt stretch to swallow down his thick cock. A milky white ring has formed around the base. As many times as he’d pictured this exact moment, nothing in the most feral corners of his imagination could’ve conjured something so inherently erotic. Seeing his length disappear inside you over and over assures that he’ll never be satisfied with fucking his fist again, not after this.

The pad of his calloused thumb finds your swollen clit with ease. He rubs in tight, calculated circles, applying a little more pressure when you nearly shriek his name. He needs to see you come undone for him again.

“That feel good, love?” You nod. “Yeah? You like that, huh? Can feel that pretty pussy squeezin’ me. You’re takin’ me so well, honey.”

You’re barely coherent beneath him as he drives into that spot that keeps you breathless. He doesn’t know what you’re begging for, but you keep saying ‘please’. You’re trying so hard to keep your eyes on him, and they keep threatening to roll back. The sight only spurs him on.

Any semblance of control is lost when you warn him that you’re close again. Words of encouragement pour out like a fountain before he can process what he’s saying. Your whole body tenses, walls clamping down around his length in even pulses, and John folds himself over you, fucking you through the waves.

“Shit, I - oh, fuck! - John, I-I… I love you.” You struggle to get it out between pants and moan and whines, but his heart soars all the same. He ruts into you feverishly, peppering your face with sloppy kisses as he chases that high. There’s no controlling the near whimpers that escape him as your orgasm pushes him to the brink of his own.

“‘Bout to cum, baby. Where do you want it?” he sighs into your mouth.

“Inside - please, want you to cum inside me.”

That’s what does him in. He pushes as deep as he can, tip kissing your cervix as he pumps rope after rope of warm white into you. The edges of his vision blur. He can’t remember a time in his life that he’s cum so hard, but he knows it won’t be the last. Not when there are too many months to make up for.

One more kiss, and he whispers back, “I love you, too.”

#john price x reader #john price x you #john price imagine #john price cod #john price #cod x reader #cod x you #cod writer #jj writes

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abiiors · 6 months

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i know it's still slut hour all over my dash but 'tis the time to be sappy on my blog once again because promptober was so much fucking fun!! and now that it's over i need to shoutout and thank everyone who wrote all the amazing fics 🥺🧡

it doesn't matter if you wrote one fic or all thirty-one, i am so fucking grateful for all of you <33

@lastnightwaskindofablur - genuinely in awe of how amazing everything you wrote was!! and i am so excited to read atvb/atpoaim (although i'm very scared of the angst. just so you know, i refuse to acknowledge pt 2 of the promptober angst :)) they had adorable babies and britt woke up on christmas morning, realised it was just a nightmare and went back sleep cuddled up w matty, okay? okay!)

@toomuchracket - your fics have literally never fucking disappointed but the sweetheart george fic was my absolute favourite just because of how soft it was!!! stunning, perfect, gorgeous 🥹 special shoutout to ross + shy gf eloping fic and d word matty first time fic <33

@cinnahmongirl - your ross fic debut!!! and it was so cute and domestic, everything i fucking love in one fic. pls pls pls write more i beg !!!

@the1975attheirverybest - absolutely fucking amazing as always but the scary nights dad matty one was my personal favourite. i love the way you write matty, he feels so real 🥹 100% believe that he would be the type of dad to be swayed by his kid so so easily!

@all-things-fic - i cannot believe that was your first time writing for ross and you're not allowed to stop btw, sorry that's the law. i don't think i have ever consumed like 7k words so hungrily!!

@everythingdenied - i'm so happy it reminded you that you don't hate writing <3 🥹 and also the dad matty fic was fucking adorable because he really is my weakness ugh!

@poisonmedaddy13 - i don't think i have stopped thinking about the road trip fic btw like it has a permanent place in some corner of my brain now. you did such a good job and i'm so proud of you <33

@kate-inhaler-1975 - i loveee the premise of the series and i really hope you continue it 🥹 (and i do hope eve ends up with ross for very non vanity related reasons)

@insidemymind19 - meet cute was absolutely adorableeee and it has added a new brainrot of matty flirting with me over a bar counter to the already very long list of brainrots! i hope you're doing well :)

@procrastinatinglikeapro - apple cider had me giggling, blushing, kicking my feet!!! making the man blush just fucking hits different for me and you delivered <33 adorable and very sexy but soft smut my beloved 😌

@wrestletotheground - kissing you on the head for adding to the cute bf ross agenda btw because that shit made me yearnnnnnn for a movie night like you don't even know, i was very very down bad. (def if he's in grey joggers 👀)

@imightgetbetter - 14 YEAR OLD MATTY!!! THAT MADE ME AWWW SO HARD 😭😭 i'm always a sucker for "our story as a bedtime story" fics and this was the fucking cutesttt

@think0fmehigh mollyyyyy begin again had be sobbing and also horny and i fucking love that song so so much 😭 the fic was fucking perfect and i love your writing and especially your smut writing so so much!! <3

and last but not least, me because i think i did a pretty good job :)

#i'm really really sorry if i missed anyone but i am so fucking grateful to you too <33 #promptober75 #see you next year maybe?? 👀#the 1975

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mejomonster · 1 year

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Just watched till the end of the moon ep 9:

I'm so down bad for these 2

I cannot stress enough that skipping them to marriage so no stupid "innocence" or naivety stuff as is the usual situation is here

I cannot stress enough how much I LOVE that li susu seems adult, mature, seasoned in battle love etc, and just generally like a late 20s early 30s adult trying to save the world instead of a young adult Hero and how nice it is. Just for me, I'm happy for the variety

I LOVE tantai jin. He's a fucked up guy. He's the wet skinny pathetic man fangirls always say they want. He's genuinely a pretty cold bitch AND he gets to be lead (in a cdrama!). He is monstrous cause bitches have treated him monstrous so like susu said! He responded to a cruel world with cruelty back. It's not a lead I'm used to but I AM loving it. I also love how for him a kind gesture really is worth it's weight in gold like? For him. As awful as ye xiwu was in marriage pre susu, as much as susu literally said she wants to kill him more than anyone else in the world... she keeps saving him. Giving him food. Risking HER life for his. And for him those specific actions are worth more than anything anyone's ever given him. Maybe even more than what Lan gave him, since at least ye xiwu is upfront about wanting to imprison him and being mad at him so like she probably isn't going to "secretly" betray him since she's fairly honest (now). I love that he is JUST a fucked up guy with a fucked up destiny meant to be devil God, who the universe was probably intentionally shitty to cause its hoping (on like a cosmic scale) he will Suffer and Die and become devil God in revenge. I love that its not trying to make the bitch noble. He is who he is. For whatever that means, it's just a story about 2 people who'd never have met. But susu has changed the trajectory just by being herself around him and it's COMPELLING.

The transformative power of love (or simply being kind to another person) and all that. How the cursed jade said she's mostly just SO SURPRISED someone would help another person. I feel like that's probably the Theme of the show right there. Even susu is probably surprised by herself helping him. And in the jade transfer moment, I think she's surprised she genuinely does NOT think he only is comprised of bad traits. For all the cold bitch that he is, betraying her that he's done, cruel view he has of the world... actions speak louder than words to susu too. And for all the bad he's done... he has also done some good things. And she finds herself seeing him in shades of grey instead of a monster like she expected to.

I just love their bickering lets be real. Susu just SAYS shit on the top of her mind (to be fair tantai jin is a bitch and deserves to be bitched at). But she's like "from now on let's have NO CONNECTION" to 6 hours later being like "your life is in my hands and I say when you can die I'm imprisoning you forever ill see you nonstop bitch." And it's like... susu honey, that was LITERALLY tantai jins plan to do to you like 6 hours ago. Yall have the same plan. Just who's the prisoner is switched lmao. No wonder he's oddly attracted to you. You see him being a big manipulative bitch and like you're not stealthy, but you ARE like "WELL FINE ill say some SHIT and BREAK YOUR HEART then. Cry me a river! Oh you thought I was dead? You cried? GOOD. Now anyway fight is over as long as I'm winning!"

Their emotional fights are both ridiculously huge (like rumor of the Kingdoms wild) but also so shallow cause these bitches will be like "I DECIDE when you DIE" then you find them clutching each other in the woods BOTH unwilling to abandon the other and BOTH taking life threatening damage trying to protect the other and BOTH trying to then heal said damage of each others! Like. That's just so fucking funny??!! And fun. Xiao Lin is going to be like "what in the world??" But move on

Anyway speaking of Xiao Lin: I love how he genuinely seems to care for tantai jin! Probably only person in the world who does! I hope one day tantai jin finds out its genuine heartfelt care for him. Buy knowing tantai jins life... he's going to do some awful shit to Xiao lin that ruins his life or kills his wife or kills thousands of innocents in front of him, THEN Xiao lin will be breaking down crying how he never thought tantai jin would do this and he thought tantai jin was a good person who wanted to avoid seeing the ppl in harm and he always wished tantai jin could have a better life. And then tantai jin, probably newly learning compassion from enough bullshit attempts with susu, that his own heart will be breaking BECAUSE of the consequences of his own actions. So. Thrilled to cry later I guess

Speaking of susu and tantai jin. tantai jin LAYING ON HER SHOULDER THINKING ABOUT WHAT SHE BULLSHITTINGLY SAID LOVE WAS AND HOW HE THINKS SHE LOVES HIM AND HOW HE THINKS HE MIGHT LOVE HER AND CUDDLING

that is what watchers want!! (At least me!!) Men lying heads on their lovers shoulders and thinking dreamy about them

Bai Lu gives off such bisexual lead energy tho even without a woman to flirt with I'm sure thats part of the appeal for me. Bottom line is I like in my b/g romances on occasion (who am I kidding more of the time than not) to have a dominant kind of woman. And bai lu delivers. Her man leans on HER shoulder. Is carried around her shoulder with HER arms.

Speaking of, people who cast this were 1. Fulfilling so many wishes letting Luo yunxi just play PURE FUCKED UP and I love it. 2. By casting him as this suffering Weak physically nearly always dying willfully little skinny twink of a man, who's also God tier powerful especially with rage, who's costume entails constant bloody whump, collars, choking and ropes, like. There's a HELLA SPECIFIC NICHE Luo yunxis character resides inside this show and it sure is feeding That Demographic. I'm up for it. It's like if mo ran and chu wanning had a fucked up mashup

I'm fearing the jade maker witch was somehow susu in a past life and now I'm wondering if time travel is gonna be in this bitch

If there IS time travel? I really like the idea of tantai jin specifically time traveling the 2nd time around, once he and susu fell in love, once he knows what susu knew from the beginning. I think that could open a lot of new avenues that he is not currently able to go into given his current personality and knowledge

It's still funny as hell to me tantai jin is kind of angling for death cause he KNOWS he gets super-powered once he dies. But his wife keeps being like NO BITCH YOU GOTTA LIVE WELL. And I'm hoping eventually he's like: maybe she's right... maybe the revenge means more if I'm alive for it and not dissassociated. Maybe I SHOULD try to become a God tier monster without dying. Which would still lead to oh no devil tantai jin lol, but a version of it that is fully Himself which I would like

You know I'm liking a show when I'm contemplating binging beyond what's on youtube rn

#tteotm #till the end of the moon #lb #anyway the main couple GOT ME their scenes are SO enjoyable to watch #i loved every second

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antebunny · 3 months

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So there's a subgenre of fics in the Harry Potter fandom wherein a person conceived while one of their parents is under the influence of a love potion will become aroace at birth. The origin, afaik, are two insidiously awful decisions of JKR combining: 1) she reinvented date rape drugs/roofies aka love potions, without realizing it I guess, and 2) she said that Voldemort was asexual, because she's never seen a marginalized identity she didn't spit on.

Since Merope Gaunt (Voldemort's mother) used a love potion on Tom Riddle Sr. (Voldemort's dad) I guess people got the idea that what if love potions caused asexuality? And asexuality + aromanticism, of course, meant evil. Here's an excerpt from one of those fics in which Bill Weasley explains being aro/ace to Hermione:

[Image ID]

"No. I just dated because that was what you did. I never really felt anything for them. A few kisses, plenty of hand-holding. I made out in a few broom closets, and had one very uncomfortable make-out session up the top of the Astronomy Tower that I eventually ended by pretending I heard Filch coming past on a patrol. I even tried making out with a guy once in case that was it–nothing. I never told mum about that, of course. Good wizards don't shame their families like that."

"There's nothing wrong with being gay, you know."

He shrugged. "It doesn't apply to me anyway. I'm not gay. I wasn't anything, and I was trying to accept that and be content with it. It was good enough. Until I met Fleur." His eyes lit up with joy as he spoke about her.

[Second Image ID]

"Look, the point is with her allure from being part-Veela, I love her. Like I can never love anyone else. I don't want to lose that. You don't understand what it's like to go through life feeling nothing for anyone else. I've dated people I said I cared for, but I wouldn't have died for them. Well, out of logical choice I might risk my life, but not from love. But I would die for Fleur. Do you understand? She makes me a better person. I would do anything to make her happy. I'm not alone in the world anymore."

She nodded slowly. "I see." It wasn't so much him manipulating Fleur, as him permitting her to manipulate him. Into feeling. "I didn't realise it could be that bad." She still thought he should confess, but it didn't sound like he was hurting Fleur–he really did love her.

[End Image ID]

I read this fic years ago, and at the time I genuinely had not thought about my sexuality at all. I would've never called myself aro or ace. Still, reading this felt like being repeatedly punched in the face. I kept on waiting for Hermione to say something similar to what she said after Bill made a homophobic comment. After all, she went out of her way the first time, didn't she. Instead, what I got was essentially:

Bill: I don't usually feel romantic or sexual attraction. So there's something wrong with me.

Hermione: Yeah lmao. But there's nothing wrong with being gay!

I've been (reading) on Ao3 since 2016, and in all that time I've seen plenty of subtle racism, sexism, etc. But I've never seen anything as plainly stated as this. To this day I have yet to hear any aro/ace people describe the experience of being aro/ace in any of the following ways: "How could I forgive myself if we brought a child into the world to suffer the emptiness I lived with my whole existence[?]" /"You should be unable to love." / "You don't understand what it's like to go through life feeling nothing for anyone else."

I could not understand why Bill described it as "emptiness" or "feeling nothing." I still cannot find a single aro/ace person who would describe themselves as empty. The most I have ever heard is: "I wish I was normal" (meaning I wish I fit in, I wish to be accepted by other people). Historically, many aro/ace people married and had kids, conforming to societal norms, and I am sure many believed there was something wrong with them or hoped to grow out of it. I was one of them. On a very personal note, I suspect that my father is too. I am certain that he's never heard the terms asexual or aromantic in his life. But if you think I'll ever discuss his sexuality with him, you're out of your damn mind.

Now, I know it's really easy to find this fic from these quotes. I chose to include them anyways because I think it's important to show how blatant it was. My Tumblr blog isn't exactly a platform, but for the five people reading this: please, please do not go after the author. I truly believe that they had no ill-intent. In the comments of this fic, a few people bring up variations of "it sounds like Bill is just aro/ace" and the author is consistently understanding. Here are some of the author's comment on that fic:

[Image ID]

I very much understand what you're saying. It's a tricky thing for me to address, however. For the core idea I'm playing with is basically the evilness of "love potions". And part of that is exploring JKR's idea that Voldemort, being unable to love due to his mother using a love potion on his father, was a *monster* because of that. Perhaps that doesn't come across very clearly (there's a little bit more of it in the prequel), that it's one of the assumptions I'm trying to undermine. ("Love potions are funny/romantic", "Voldemort is a monster because he could not love", "Harry's power was that he could love - he's not a monster like Voldemort", "There's nothing wrong with selling love potions to teens/adults because it's not 'real' love".)

I feel like I'm already poking at the inherent problem of framing "people who cannot love" as "monsters/psychopaths" by showing Bill and Harry's struggles with self acceptance, and Bill finding a way to love (though do note he'd been making peace with the idea he wasn't attracted to anyone, prior to meeting Fleur). I really don't like the canonical take on love-redeems/love-is-the-best-power/the-loveless-are-monsters, so I'm messing with it a bit. Exploring other people than Voldemort, ones we admire, who are also dealing with being unable to love. Does that make sense? Now, that doesn't mean I'm doing a perfect job at it, but I'm trying my best to explore that theme around the edges of my Dramione story.

[End Image ID]

The author's intention was to show how other characters, made aro/ace via love potion like Voldemort, were not evil or sociopaths. I don't know why all the characters were so aro/acephobic, but sometimes fics get away from you and you don't address everything you wanted to. I don't know why the aro/ace characters had so much internalized shame and hatred when the term bachelor has been in use for centuries, but we fanfic authors love writing self-esteem issues and I would be a hypocrite to say otherwise. I don't know why the author never tagged acephobia or internalized acephobia, but no one HAS to tag anything.

I don't know if the author ended up writing that fic where Harry comes to accept his aro/asexuality. It's totally understable if they didn't; I have failed to write many fics that I really did want to write. Sometimes it's just like that. I really, truly believe that the author had the best of intentions and is not aro/acephobic, just severely misled on what that experience is like.

My beef is not with this author. I used their words to highlight a reoccurring and popular sentiment that I hate. My real beef is that this fic is popular. This is an entire subgenre of Harry Potter fics. I actually decided to write this post because some random person on the internet said, a few days ago, something along the lines of: "Remember when JKR invented a date rape drug that turned people into sociopaths? Yeah…" (And also because I was up until 3 am last night writing a dumb trash angst one-shot about it).

I'd wager that the vast, vast majority of people who write or read those fics don't feel the same way. But the condescension is baked into the very premise of that trope. "Oh poor you, it must be so hard, so lonely going through life without ever loving another person. You must feel so empty inside."

It's actually people who say similar things that make me feel isolated. Most of the time I feel free, like I've cracked this secret code, like I'm able to see things clearly that people so hung up over sex and romance can't. Other times I feel so left out I wish I was "normal." Mostly, being aro/ace is lonely, annoying, exhausting, and liberating.

It wasn't until last year that a friend told me that some people actually do have trouble speaking to someone they've never met before, just because they find that someone attractive. I thought that only happened in stories. But I don't want to get nervous meeting new people based on their looks, I don't want to treat people differently based on how much I want to have sex with them. I wish my friends in high school had never pressured me to come out as bisexual. I wish all the other similarly liberal, queer communities I've found since didn't insist on associating sex and dating with emotional comfort. I wish I could magically stop my parents from expecting me to ever get married and have kids.

But I can't.

Anyways, that's it for today. I'm not sure what the point of writing this was. I really don't want anyone to get hurt or attacked because of it. This is not a callout, or a hate brigade, or any sort of call-to-action. I don't want people to get up-in-arms about this. I'm just tired. I suppose I just wanted to put my feelings out there, and well, this is my Tumblr.

#asexuality #aromantism #aroace #acearo #aphobia #acephobia #asexual #aromantic #harry potter #harry potter fandom #harry potter fanfiction

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aster-spiral-30 · 2 months

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It’s been one month after Hazbin Hotel season 1 has finished.

I have such conflicting feelings on it, because the bad aspects of this show strongly eclipses the good parts of it.

I really wanted the show to be good. It would have been somewhat good even with its flaws- if Episode 4 didn’t exist. It was painful to watch.

And if there were more episodes to explore the characters and the world building. I miss the days of 22 episode TV seasons.

But like, I’m still genuinely disgusted with the entirety of episode 4, and Viv’s flippant attitude toward serious material.

It was disrespectful as Hell, like that shitty “I Spit on Your Grave” movie but at least there’s revenge in that movie.

Write a scene calling the rape victim character a “loser” in a shitty song repeatedly? …Fuck you, I genuinely hate you.

I can’t watch that episode again, knowing that she hired & she is friends with a shitty person that fetishized sex crimes- and sexually harassed a critic. Vile.

I seriously wish that some higher-up in Bento Box (animation company) or A24 or Amazon (distribution) had put their foot down because the final product of episode 4 was godawful.

But I doubt they will for season 2 and more. I don’t have the high hopes for it, let alone expectations for it to be consistently good. Because season 1 had 4 years to be made, and it was not good.

And at the end of season 1, Angel Dust is still a sex slave, despite surviving the Extermination Raid. Charlie knew about it for nearly 6 months, she didn’t do a goddamn thing to stop it.

“BUT IT TAKES PLACE IN HELL! EVERYONE IS SUPPOSED TO BE AWFUL!!” —annoying people

Oh is that right? Then redemption sure does seem fucking pointless, I’d say. Why should shitty people go to Heaven? (Yes Adam was there which made no sense, but he’s only one)

I’m so fuckin tired, man. This sucks.

Why do I even bother with any new television? None of it’s good.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel criticism #i’m so tired #rant #rant post #small rant

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dangermousie · 1 year

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You can tell Susu is hardcore gone for TTJ because she is genuinely jealous of Bingchang. Earlier, when she was emotionally not involved, she clearly got that TTJ was only interested in Bingchang because he was imitating Xiao Lin but now she’s involved emotionally, she is not clear headed at all.

Their terrible fight is, ironically, another proof of her feelings. Because if she was not involved, she’d just lie and say whatever to maintain her precious nails, but she can’t, she doesn’t even think about it, all she thinks is her disappointment and heartbreak.

I really do love this scene so much because I think it’s entirely in character for both of them and shows that they would have a horrible time getting to a happy ending even without Bingchang or Tantai Minglang and his corpse army. Because their particular issues just are designed to hit the other in the worst way. Whenever he does anything that looks in the least suspicious or not perfect, the reason she jumps to the worst conclusions is because she starts seeing in him the monster who set the world on fire and killed her father and sect in front of her eyes, and then almost killed her. It is easy for us, the viewers, to look at poor meow meow Tantai Jin and go “but don’t you see he’s OK, woman, he’s just an abuse victim and xianxia non-neurotypical.” But she SAW him murder everyone in sight, she saw it with her own eyes. The fact that she’s been able to look past that and see him as his own person and not yet that devil, and even further to fall in love with him is huge but this trauma, this knowledge is always in the back of her head and that is why I cut her immense amounts of slack whenever she jumps to the worst possible conclusions. I mean, here she literally starts seeing the devil god as she looks at him. She has her own horrible trauma, even if it’s different from TTJ’s.

But the reason this is such a terrible combination is that her issues hit his square dead center. Because his greatest fear AND his default expectation is that he is a monster, he is unloveable, nobody can truly love him if they know him, nobody can choose him over a $2 bill let alone the world, nobody will believe him or trust him or take his side. And so the moment she flinches, the moment she distrusts, he does not jump to tell her the truth about that awful night (where he was fully justified in what he did and more merciful than 98% of people would have been) but instead revels in showing her “yes, I am a monster, I am the worst, I am everything you fear and loathe, of course you can’t love me” because he wants to shove away before he gets shoved away first, he does not expect anyone to believe him if he tells the truth and if he shows his vulnerability, he will not get consolation but another stab in the back. Basically, both of them need him to be perfect and perfectly good - she needs him to be so and he needs her to believe him so, for that to be a workable relationship, but it cannot be such. Even paragon Xiao Lin is not perfect, let alone how could Tantai Jin be?

If she just asked him “but why” or said “I know you must have had a reason,” the train would not derail. But for once, I genuinely get why the heroine always jumps to conclusions. And so he, hurt but her lack of trust decides to show her he is as bad as she fears, even worse. In a way, it’s like an animal who tries to make itself as fearsome as it can to drive away predators. Only the predator here is emotional and what he is trying to protect is his heart. Their different traumatic experiences make them incompatible.

Oooof! You know, I normally would wonder why she doesn’t learn since this is not the first time she jumped to conclusions wrongly. But she is so damaged by seeing the devil god rampage in the future, by believing it’s inevitable (she tries to change but she never believes she can, not really), that she walks into the same mess over and over and it is actually realistic.

He so hopes she will say yes. He does not expect it, but he really wishes.

That is what he thinks of himself, isn’t it? Because it’s been drummed into him his whole life.

Susu needs to learn the future is not immutable. She is here actually because she believes that - to change the future. But that also means people’s characters in the future are not immutable either! She needs to take that next step.

He does jump on that, he really is smart.

Oh, Susu!

He says that because at this moment he’s so hurt he wishes it were true but alas his heart is pretty damn human by now and the opposite is true.

Their problem is not some other chick or crazy half brother raising a zombie army or even tragic destiroy of TTJ. Their problem is that they love each other immensely and trust each other zero.

#cdrama #luo yunxi #bai lu #till the end of the moon

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thesupreme316 · 8 months

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Okay so anyway I can request a Fic about Christian Cage’s & Hook’s sister and the beginning of their relationship? From the start where he gave her the proposition at dinner to when she finds out Jack’s cheating and she goes to him and then their little rendezvous and the match? I just loved the little glimpses you threw in of them from Had it coming part 2 and I definitely wanna see more of this couple, I feel like he’s the breath of fresh air she needed and the fact he’ll treat her like a princess and give her the world just to turn around and be the devil with everyone else but her because he loves her 🫶🏼

Had It Coming Part 3 (Christian Cage x Fem!Reader, mentions of Jack Perry x Fem!Reader):

Summary: How did you and Christian's relationship get started?

Word Count: 2.2K (BRO I WAS ON FIRE)

Supreme Speaks: hii, thanks to anon for requesting this. I was stressed making this one but I hope ya'll enjoy it. please remember that you are loved and appreciated.

Warnings: suggestive content, not proofread, mentions of age gap relationship, mentions of cheating italics means flashback

Taglist: @wwenhlimagines @hooks-martin @triscillal @sheinthatfandom @hookerforhook @freyab-w

Links to: Part 1, Part 2

“Alright Cage, spill it.” You said as his blue eyes poured into your squinted eyes. He smirked as he leaned in.

“Aw, princess, we just ordered appetizers and you already want to skip to the main course,” Christian said chuckling. “No, no. I want to build up to it. There’s no need to cut to the chase, we got time. Let’s relax a bit.”

You rolled your eyes but leaned back in your chair as you took in the scene. The lights were low, Christian was now sipping on wine in front of you, while Luchasuarus was at another table eating his entree (chicken tenders) by himself. Against your better judgment, you decided to sip the wine to quote “relax a bit.” Christian soon started to ask questions about yourself and your personal interests. At first, you were giving him small answers, basic and simple information.

But the more time went on, the more comfortable you felt. You don’t know why, but Christian’s aura made you feel seen despite the age gap between you two. He was genuinely interested in your words. He pressed deeper questions about your likes and was able t to relate to your words. He complimented you every chance he got. And during that time, you didn’t feel bad about meeting with him (granted your suspension of the meeting has decreased). It never once occurred to you that this was your (at the time) boyfriend’s ex-mentor, the one who caused him pain and distrust.

But then again he was the reason why you were in this predicament…cause he wasn’t here….he didn’t care enough to pick you up….he didn’t care enough to ensure your safety and comfortability. But Christian did.

��Okay Y/N, I’ll tell you why I wanted to talk to you,” Christian said putting his fork down. “I know what you want. You want that championship. But most importantly, you want what comes with it: money, power, love, and respect. And you, you gorgeous woman, deserve it. Now, I’ll be frank with you. Jack? He’s not going to give you that.”

Christian doesn’t know when he started feeling infatuated with you, but he always thought you were an amazing woman, despite your age gap. It did anger him to no end that Jack, a person who he considers to be a boy, was able to swoop you up before he could. But, he realized that all you needed was time: time to see how bad of a person Jack was, time to see how Jack couldn’t satisfy you, and time to see how good he, Christian, could treat you.

“And you can?” You questioned.

Without skipping a beat, he answered back, “There’s a reason why I’m here and your little boy toy isn’t, isn’t there?” You sat back and motioned for him to continue. He brought out a leather folder and slid it across the table. Your fingers grazed over it, “Now, in this folder is a contract that guarantees you an FTW Championship match without making family reunions awkward. You can use this and all of your dreams can come true. All you really have to do is get your brother to sign it, it’ll forfeit his rematch clause as long as you are the champion. But I can also make adjustments to it if necessary.”

You blinked, looking between him and the deadly folder. You wonder what the catch is, all of this seems too perfect for you. “What about Jack?”

Christian smirks, “If he becomes champion, you’ll automatically get a match, whenever you want.” He notices that you haven’t opened or flipped through the contract. As if he read your mind, he says, “There is no catch, princess. What I’m offering you is for you to take or decline at free will.”

“No, there has to be something in this for you. There is no reason why you would offer a very thoughtful and tempting offer to the girlfriend of your former protege that you stabbed in the back.” You shook your head. “Christian, you’re a very calculative man. There has to be some type of intention behind this.”

He sighed, “Baby girl, I want to treat you how you deserve to be treated. You deserve everything in the world. This contract is the first step. If you get them to sign this, it will unlock a world of treasure and happiness. Even if you don't, I'll still be here for you because you need a real man. Not a boy who runs off to his past when he realizes he can't handle a real woman."

Your eyes widened as he said the last two sentences. It sent a shiver down your nerves as you were trying to decipher it. What did he know that you didn’t? Why did he have you (and your well-being) in his mind? “What do you mean?”

Christian gave a small smile as he leaned forward to whisper to you, “That boy isn’t here with you because he’s doing the same thing he always does when he’s intimidated…run away. He ran away, forgot his darling and beautiful significant other, and left her to fight the battle that he caused. You need a man who’s going to give you everything you want and needs without his selfish desires interfering. I’m that man, I can give you anything you want and more. All you have to do is tell me.” As you open the folder to find the contract and a card with his phone number, he continues to speak.

“All the cards are in your hand, princess, I’ll play by your rules. If you want to forget about this, fine with me. If you want advice, both professionally and personally, text me. If you want a man to make up in the areas where your boy lacks, give me a call.”

You can say that your new relationship didn’t start off normally.

But then again, what relationship did?

But you wouldn’t have any other way.

Even before you guys got together, Christian already vowed to make you the happiest woman on earth. And he proved that to you every day since then. It started off simple: he would text you making sure you ate and had everything you needed for the day, offer advice for in-ring work, and just listen (well, read) your thoughts and opinions over text and audio messages.

It was all innocent. Nothing that Jack needed to worry about as you were quiet about that aspect in your life.

However, Jack became quiet about all aspects of his life: coming back to you late nights, conversations didn’t last more than 30 seconds, wouldn’t hold hands with you….

It made you sad…

Then it made you confused…

Then it made you mad…

Your curiosity got the better of you as a week later, you decided to look through the phone while he was in the shower.

Maybe it was just too much for you to handle. The distance between you two, him changing your contact name to an eye roll emoji, his favoriting his ex’s contact, the conversations he was having with his ex or his ex-girlfriend’s birthday replacing yours as the passcode to his phone. You found everything: from them dogging on you in their texts, how he can’t wait to see her again, how he should have never let her go, and how she was ready to actually satisfy him.

In hindsight, you expect this from him as the distance was growing. But damn, you couldn’t do anything to prepare for how hard the blow was gonna be. Your eyes teared up as you put the phone down, taking deep breaths. You calmly exited the hotel room with just your phone.

It was like your body was in autopilot mode, the way your thumb just naturally hovered over his contact. After contemplating for a moment, a tear slipped down your cheek as you pressed the contact and dialed the number. One ring went through before you heard a greeting from the other side.

“H-hi.” You said slightly trembling.

“What’s wrong princess?” He said in a low voice.

You let out a quiet sob, “Can you tell me what room you’re in please?”

Without a millisecond going by, he told you what room and promised to stay on the phone as you made your way over. A couple of moments later, you were face to face with Christian (who was normally in a turtleneck and nice pants) in a fitted black tank top and sweatpants (author’s note: CAN YOU IMAGINE CHRISTIAN IN A TANK-). He hung up the phone as you placed your head on his chest, silently crying. He wrapped his arms around you and you instantly felt warmed and comforted.

Christian brought you inside and just listened as you told him what you discovered through your cries. He was bubbling underneath; how dare someone make you cry? His heart broke for you, but he was determined to make it up to you, by any means necessary.

“What you do want me to do?” Christian asked. “You want me to pay him a visit? I make Luchasaurus beat his ass-“

Although you would that, you wanted to make Jack hurt; like how he hurt you. You really wanted him to feel pain, and you knew that a physical beatdown wouldn’t help. “No, no. I just….I just want you to make me forget him.”

Christian’s heart slightly skipped, this was THE moment for him. The moment for him to show you what you’ve been missing, what you can have, and what you can continue to have if you choose to. “Princess, are you sure? I don’t want-“

You wiped your damp eyes, “You said the cards are mine and these are the ones I wanna play.”

That’s all it took for him to press his mouth against yours in a passionate and fiery way. The kiss was better and more magical than what Christian expected. You felt the kiss warmed you up even more than before. With his hands cupping your face, he kissed you like it was the last thing he’d ever do. As he lays your body on the bed, he crawls over your body and removes his tank top.

As he presses kisses down your body and gropes your hips, your breath starts to falter. Soon, sounds of euphoria and pleasure started to fill the room as you were mercilessly clawing all over the bed and Christian’s body.

That night would set up a schedule where your body would just gravitate to where Christian was and just be showered in love and lust (THEY CALL HIM CAPTAIN CHARISMA FOR A REASON). It felt good…so good that it slipped your mind that this was considered cheating in your former relationship.

But did it really? Or was it you just calling it even?

Even with extra benefits such as presents, free mini-trips, and love whenever you fluttered your eyes at Christian. It was amazing how many of these things Christian could do within a few weeks until you solidified your break-up with Jack on just a few days ago.

And that was the start to the everlasting routine of you waking up to Christian’s face every single morning…except for today.

Instead of waking up to his handsome face, you woke up to his handsome voice, damn near yelling in his phone. You exited the bedroom to enter the living room, where you saw the man of your dreams sitting on the couch, in an argument on the phone. His scowl on his face was replaced with a smile as you hugged him from behind and kissed his neck.

“Hi baby,” He whispered to you. He turned his attention back to his phone and spoke louder. “No, I told you no more open challenges. He shouldn’t get a shot just because he wants it…..You know what? It’s too early for this, you’re disturbing mine and my girlfriend’s morning.” He then hung up abruptly and groaned.

“Rough morning?” You asked with a slight smile.

“Yes, bastards want something that isn't theirs. But it’s better now that I see your beautiful smile.” He turned his head and gave you a quick kiss. “Now, what does my princess want?”

“For my knight to come back to bed. We can get a start on the day later,” You said walking away, with your hand lingering on his body. Christian grabbed your hand and kissed it as he followed you back to the bedroom, leaving his phone behind. He chuckled, making you look at him. “What’s funny?”

“I’m just thinking about how we started and where we are now. I think it’s a beautiful love story to tell strangers” He joked

You giggled, looking up at him as you sat on the edge of the bed. “All because you wanted to mix business with pleasure.”

Your boyfriend leaned down and gave you a tender kiss. He then got on his knees in front of you, parting your legs. “Well, the way I see it allowed me to make pleasuring you my business.” He said before kissing the insides of your thighs.

It was safe to say that after knowing your situation and how you ended up,

you knew that there were people who would have done the same.

#aew #all elite wrestling #aew imagine #all elite wrestling imagines #christian cage #aew christian cage #christian cage x reader #christian cage imagine #christian cage smut #aew jack perry #jack perry x reader #jack perry imagine #jungle boy jack perry #jungle boy imagine

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plump-lips-imagine · 10 months

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Ayeee I just found this blog and I just watched the movie a second time (For English cast and toootally not mainly Jack black Bowser) and it was AWESOME qwq

Can I have either a fic or hcs of a female reader just as obsessed with Bowser as he is with Peach and reader is here to change his mind, maybe even going as far to bring (and by bring I meant steal) the guy back to reader's castle/palace to show him the collection of him and his kingdom in reader's bedroom, look! reader even have a big statues of him in the private music/dance room where reader dream of dance to his music as he plays, or maybe even dance with him

My collection so far, I especially like to tell everyone I met about the story of how I got my Bowser and Junior plushie, I'ma share if interested

YOOOOO, Cool Drip! I Love the collection you have. It makes me lowkey jealous lol. I hope you Like what I made! I try to only make head cannons but it turned into this lol.

Marry Me, My Darling Bowser! (1/2)

You stand at the throne of the Bowser himself, with a confident and determined smile across. Bowser looks at you with a genuine look of disgust and annoyance, but that doesn't stop you from getting on one knee and holding out your hand.

"Bowser, My Dragon King! Will you Marry Me?"

He growls as he tries to hold back the fire that was rising in his chest.

"For the last time Pipsqueak, NO!"

You weren't dejected, not even in the slightest, as you stood back up and patted your dress down. You then let out a loud laughter that made His Majesty's eyes glow red.

"AHAHAH! Always a jokester. Is this any way to treat your future wife?"

"I mean it!!" "Aw, Come on. Don't be shy! I even proposed myself, so you didn't feel like you had to. We were just meant to be!"

Bowser claws at his throne as a bottle of rage was about to erupt inside of him. His minions look at him nervously, backing away ever so slightly.

"Are you dense?! I hate you! I don't harbor anything for you! I Only love Peach. Why can't you just leave me alone!?!"

Everything was coming out of one ear as you slyly grin at him.

"Playing hard to get, huh? I like that in a man." A vein pops on Bowser's head. "Oh please, my darling. Let me make me happy. I'll be the best wife you'll ever have!!......Well,only wife you'll have too!"

Bowser's Flame comes in your direction, The flame barely missing a part of your dress that was scorched when you dodged it.

"........Alright, I understand. You're a little stressed and the proposal was lacking. Don't worry! I'll come back with a better one next week. Get some rest, My love!" As you exit, the Koopa guards quickly closed the door in order to subside the King's anger. With a heavy groan, Bowser turns to Kamek, who jolts in surprise.

"If that Girl so much as steps into this Kingdom, I want her thrown out immediately. Got it!"

"Y-Yes Sire!!"

***

Aw Man!! I really thought I had him with that one!!" You pouted as you stomped around the room in a huff.

"Your Highness, please come down." Your attendant calmly says, watching your miniature tantrum.

Oh Yeah. I forgot to mention an important detail.

You are Princess (Y/N), Ruler of the Poison Shroom Kingdom. Your Kingdom was Known for its vicious wildlife of piranha, the poisonous ecosystem of purple ooze, and not to mention the not-so-soft toads that were under your rule as they were taller stronger, and more intimidating than that of the Mushroom Kingdom, with darker tones to match. Safe to say, you don't get many visitors around here.

But it's not so bad wants you get used to it. It was home to you. The purple theme of the castle was beautiful to those who took the time to see it. It was also home to many rare herbs and medicine for those needing cures for ailments of any kind, with you being an expert on the topic yourself.

This is one of the reasons why the Toads also like you as their ruler. You were very kind to them and actually cared about them, no matter how dangerous a job was. They are extremely loyal to you to a fault. They respect every decision you make. Well, almost.

"Honestly, Princess. I don't see what you see in such a brute anyway. He's such a monster. I don't see how you love such a dangerous creature in the first place."

You let out a dramatic gasp, looking back at your royal attendant who just rolled their eyes at who.

"Toadye!! That is no Monster! That is my Future Dragon King!! He just has a hard time saying his true feelings about me is all! We're soulmates, I just know it!"

Toadye, your most loyal attendant. She is also what you consider to be your best (only) friend as she has been with you for the longest time. She was a tall toad, her mushroom heads a dark violet with black spots at the center, and dark black hair to compliment her look.

"Princess, as your servant and as your friend. He has too many red flags."

"He just a little misunderstood. I swear that I have the charm to break his walls."

Toadye gives you a look.

"Right, you mean that time you 'invited' him to our Kingdom he oh so loved visiting."

Right. So, you maaaaay have 'technically' kidnapped him that one time to get home to your Kingdom. But it was for a good reason!!!

"That was a misunderstanding! I was going to just patch him up after he got hurt by his many battles. He was unconscious so I was sure he didn't mind if I brought him home to heal him."

"Ma'am, he literally tried to burn your face off and destroyed half the village."

"Well....Water under the bridge. :)"

Toadye slaps her face in exhaustion. Man, were you as stubborn as a mule."

"Toadye, I swear. He isn't as bad as he seems to be." You walk over to your bed, picking up a large homemade Bowser Plushie, and hugging it to your body.

"I see something in those large ruby eyes. I just want him to give me a chance. It'll happen soon, I just know it.

Toadye looks at you hugging and swooning for the Plush in your hands and sighs. She doesn't get it, but she'll stand by you in your pursuit.

***

"MY DARLING~!"

Bowser flinches at the familiar voice and groans. Peach looks at him confused in the cage she is being held prisoner in. Mario was the only one that could make his face scrunch up in displeasure like that, but she didn't recognize the voice that entered out of nowhere.

Several noises of struggles could be heard in the distance as the castle violently shook a bit, a red koopa came it sliding on the back of his shell, knocked out and dizzy which made Peach flinch at the chaos that was happening.

She was surprised to see a woman come from the throne room entrance. And a royal too! She's kinda like her.

"Bowser! My Beloved, Please Marry Me! I'd fight a thousand koopas for you!" You say with a love-struck gaze in your eyes that made Peach give you a look. By the chaos that was happening behind you, she could tell you weren't lying.

Well, more or less like her.

Bowser glares down at you. Fighting the urge to throw you out.

"You got a lot of nerve coming back here."

"A wife never leaves her husband alone too long." :)

"I told you to stop calling me that!"

"Why must you push away your soon-to-be wife like so" You put on your best crocodile tears to tease him a bit.

"Grrrr." a low grumble can be heard from his chest.

He rubbed his face, letting out a puff of smoke. He then glances back at Peach for a quick second and gives a smirk back at you.

"As you can see, I am far too busy making arrangements for the actual love of my life. If you can excuse us, I'm busy with my conversation with Peach." The sneered in his condescending tone made it clear that he was dropping huge hints at you.

however, you only look at the cage that he was presenting to you with a blank stare. Peach felt herself shrink at your gaze. If you love Bowser this much, she didn't know what to do if you saw her as a potential threat. It's bad enough that she has to deal with Bowser.

"Peach..." You mumbled softly. As you took a step forward towards her cage, causing her to take a slight step back in the limited space.

But She wasn't ready for the full sprint that you took towards her, jumping into the bars of her cage, griping tight as you cause the cage to jerk in place. Peach jumps back at your sudden movements as she feels her heart in her mouth from your sudden closeness. She almost lost one of her lives there.

"You're Peach! I've finally got to meet you in Person! My Fiancé has talked about you a lot! You rule the Mushroom Kingdom I Believe. You are so much prettier than he ever described you to be! We should hang out! Have you ever seen the Poison Mushroom Kingdom! I could be your tour guide! I'm Princess (Y/N) btw." You rambled to Peach, not taking a second to breathe.

"Uh,....huh....ummm?" Peach could only look at you flabbergasted at the energy that you have leaped at her with. Your forwardness and surprising friendliness made her forget the predicament that she was in. "Hi?"

"Hey! Leave the Princess alone, Pipsqueak!!" Bowser stomped his way towards you, causing Peach to jump again, being reminded of his presence here.

"Relax, My love. I was just making a friend. Sitting in this cage must be so tiring for a Princess like her.' You turn to look back at her. " Hey, wanna get out of this cage and hang? I got some great places to recommend. Do you like Pizza-"

Bowser could be heard behind you. He quickly grabs you in his claws and gives you a slight squeeze to make you stop your rambles. He brings you close to his face, and you see his eyes glow red in anger. "Listen, Brat. I'm tired of your games and your stubborn delusions getting in the way of my happiness. Get out of here before I am forced to burn you to a crisp!!

You noticed the flames that can be heard in his throat and frowned at him with a disappointed look on your face, "So mean.... This isn't how you're supposed to treat your spouse." You whispered but you quickly bring a smile to your face. ".... Alright fine. I'll go." You jump out the bars of the cage and run back to the entrance.

"I'll just wait until the red guy saves you again. I saw him not too long ago. It shouldn't be long. I'll make sure to visit you once you're back home. Bye, Peach!" You run out before Bowser can yell out at you for the backhand insult that you gave him.

Peach found herself slowly waving goodbye out you even though you were already gone.

She wouldn't mind if she saw you again.

Bowser Huffs at you then turns back to Peach, trying to fix face with his 'charming' smile.

"Now. Where were we~?"

Peach Rolls her eyes. Oh brother.

***

It's been about a week after the faithful encounter with Princess Toadstool herself, but you promised to visit her as soon as possible when she got saved.

You stood at the entrance of Prach's Castle. Two of her toads stood up right at the entrance with shields, guarding the door. The toads that decided to accompany you stared at them with an 'unimpressed ' look written on their face, including a dangerous aura that surrounded your toad guards. Toadye was right beside you, making sure nothing funny was happening.

The toads that were guarding the door already looked petrified.

"What...What business do you have here?" The toad on the asked, standing his ground.

You walked up to them calmly, with a big smile on your face.

"Good afternoon, Citizens of the Mushroom Kingdom. My name is (y/n). I have come from the Kingdom of the Poison Mushrooms, and I am the princess of that Kingdom. My business today is to speak with the Princess of this castle. She was rescued not too long ago, and I felt a princess on- on-one would be a nice way for her to relax after the stressful situation."

You greeted as gracefully as you could with your gloved hands held tight to each other in anticipation. the looks on the guards' faces didn't ease up the anxiety that swell inside your chest. They seemed even more on edge hearing your Kingdom's name.

one clears his throat and straightens up. "I'm sorry that you have come this far, your majesty. But our Princess is very busy at the moment. I'm afraid she is not taking any visitors as of now"

Your smile falls a little at this news. Surely she could have enough time to at least speak with you. It has been a while and the path to becoming best friends is to keep in touch with one another.

"A-Are you sure? I don't mind waiting a little bit, but I would be happy to speak with her for just a few minutes. Just to let her know that I'm here?"

"We highly suggest that you come at another time. The p-princess has enough on her plate as it is." The other guard speaks up.

"Are you suggesting that your princess can't handle a few minutes to speak to a guest that has so graciously come all this way to check on her wellbeing?" Toadye buts in, crossing their arms together and glaring at the guards.

the guards' eyes widened in astonishment at her blunt words that they could barely register what she said."

"W-What are you implying?"

"I'm just curious as to why Princess Peach has two of her door guards tell us that she couldn't possibly come to the door for royal company. Are 2 minutes of her time that valuable that she can't tell us herself that she cannot have guests or.....Are you perhaps lying through your teeth?" She says without batting an eye at the two, making the toads hold their breaths.

You step in.

"HEeheh,ummmm, what my advisor is trying to say is that...We just want to see if the Princess is okay. I consider her to be someone I find a connection with, and I just want to bring relief to her Princess life. Someone who understands. But if she is too busy, I guess we'll leave."

the solemn look on your face hits the guards with hard guilt to their chest. they didn't think you would be this ad about it. before they could say anything else, the castle doors begin to open. Everyone steps back and it reveals Princess Peach herself with an elderly toad next to her.

She looks surprised to see your standing there with your own guard and advisor. "Princess (Y/N)?"

"Peach!!" You run up to her and gave her a big hug, but then quickly let go to hold onto her hands, with a huge smile on your face.

The guards, your guards, the elderly toad, and Toadye look with shock at your forward approach to Peach. It was so casual that it seemed like a capital offense.

Peach flinched at the sudden display of affection, but she soon calmed down and actually began to smile as well. She held your hands in hers too. It was actually nice to see you visit.

"Princess (Y/N), I was beginning to worry that you wouldn't show up today. I was starting to think something bad had happened."

"Pfft what no! I'm alright. I heard from your guards that you were too busy today. I was about to leave."

"Really. Is that so?" Peach gave the guards a look that made them look the other way. "No matter. I want to get to know you. I have tea and cake waiting inside the castle. Oh! -"

The princess looks back at the elderly toad by her side. 'Princess (Y/n), this is Toadswroth, he is my royal advisor and has taken care of me ever since I was a baby."

You step back and bow politely, albeit a little clumsily though.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Toadsworth. You look go for your age. You must be a hard-working toad!" He only chuckles and bows back.

"It's a pleasure to meet you too, princess."

You stand back up and gesture to Toadye. "Thsi is my loyal advisor Toadye. We are like two peas in a pod and she's been protecting me since I was young. she may be a bit mean, but she's really a sweetheart! Right,Toadye?

She stares at them for a second and gives a nod in acknowledgment. "A pleasure." As aloof as ever.

Princess Peach breaks the awkward silence with a cough. "Now then, let's have tea shall we?" She gestures inside as you go inside the castle.

You're very first Tea party!

#bowser x y/n #bowser x reader #bowser #super mario #super mario bros #reader #princess peach #ooooo is peach bout to still his girl #find out next time on dragon ball Z!!#i'm still alive #My god I'm tired #I have so many ideas!

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