#but also because there are moments that look fucking incredible on screen but are an absolute nightmare in fic form
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Not me rewatching the Paulie vs Lucretia scene over and over trying to figure out how Douffe is tied up when her arm is in a sling.
#This episode is so much harder to write up than the others#in part because of small things like this#but also because there are moments that look fucking incredible on screen but are an absolute nightmare in fic form#I promise I am working on the next chapter it just might take me a little longer#Headless: A Sleepy Hollow Story#Headless Shipwrecked#Shipwrecked Comedy#Own Post
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“kenma?”
“hmm?”
he doesn’t take his eyes off the tv screen where he shoots at enemies left and right, but his ears are all yours.
“who was your first kiss?”
it’s become a habit of yours to watch his fingers move on the controller, long and thin and dexterous, wondering how he manages to move them in such a swift manner that to you seems impossible.
“didn’t have one,” he says, blunt.
“ever?”
“ever.”
“how?” you ask, both surprised and not—though now that you think about it, through all the years you’ve known him, he probably would have told you if he had.
“all i did in middle and high school was play volleyball and game. didn’t have time to kiss anyone. also didn’t care about it,” he admits.
you suppose if he wasn’t with you or kuroo, he was at home, playing video games. but there was that little obsession of his with shoyo hinata… so you guess it wasn’t a crush after all.
there’s only an ounce of hesitation behind what you say next, because yes, kenma’s your best friend and this could change the trajectory of your entire relationship with him, but also it’s kenma. kenma who you’ve shared a bed and clothes with, kenma who’s seen you at rock bottom and who’s wiped your snot and tears away when you were at your lowest, kenma who you’re attached at the hip with.
“what if i was your first kiss?”
kenma doesn’t falter at your words, not even for a second as he plays on expertly, nonchalant as always.
“uhh, why?” he asks, and you’re triumphant. if it was a ‘ew, no, what the fuck?’ then that’s how you’d know you fucked up. but it’s not.
“it kinda makes sense for me to be your first. also, i just wanna know what it’s like to kiss you,” you admit, shrugging your shoulders.
the next few moments are full of nothing but controller sounds and the music from the video game on the tv. in the faint glow that radiates from the screen, you make out a tiny dusting of pink on kenma’s pale cheeks.
eventually he gulps. then, “can we drink first?”
your mouth falls open with an insulted gasp and you have half a mind to smack him over the head.
“if you think i’m ugly you can say that, kozume,” you pout, crossing your arms.
“it’s not because i think you’re ugly, dumbass.”
“then why do you need to be drunk to kiss me?!”
kenma is silent again. he doesn’t have to look at you to know you’re staring at him utterly indignantly.
“because i’m too scared to look you in the eyes right now.”
oh.
now you get it.
kenma kozume is such a virgin. and you want him so incredibly badly. in fact you have to restrain yourself from jumping into his lap and kissing him until he can’t think straight.
instead you slide off the couch and head towards his fridge, grab two bottles of asahi and the bottle opener from the utensil drawer before padding back over to the couch, sitting an inch or two closer to kenma than you were before.
you click one bottle open for him, then one for yourself, then without a hint of hesitation you take a confident swig until you’re near chugging the drink.
“chill,” kenma says, side-eyeing you after taking a swig from his own bottle. “don’t want you pulling a himeno on me.”
you let out a noise that’s half-scoff and half-laugh, smacking at his arm. “don’t joke about that. that scene was traumatic.”
two bottles of beer later, kenma’s in-game reflexes start to waver. he’s no longer as sharp as usual, though his tipsy state still trumps the skills of an average player. meanwhile, your head floats with the buzz of alcohol—well, it hovers.
“kenmaaa,” you whine, shaking his arm, when all of a sudden his character is shot to death and the screen pauses as if to deliberately rub his defeat in his face. you stifle a giggle while he runs his hands over his face, though you’re pretty sure it’s not because he lost.
“what?” he asks, but he fails at conveying any real irritation towards you. his voice is small, frail almost.
“i wanna kiss you,” you say. your fingers still cling to the fabric of his hoodie sleeve. kenma’s entire body burns from it. he’s so fucked.
“okay, fine,” he says, turning his body to finally face you and criss-crossing his legs on the couch. “this feels awkward though, how are we-”
and you’ve waited long enough for this, and the alcohol that buzzes through your system makes you throw all your morals out the window, and you’re grabbing him by fistfuls of his hoodie and dragging him towards you until your lips smash—literally—together, and finally he shuts up.
you’re not sure what overcomes you, but you’re kissing him like you’re hungry, not quite ravaging him, but years of yearning deep inside of you bubbles to the surface and fills you with desperation.
also, you’re tipsy.
it’s not long before you come back to your senses a little and remind yourself that this is just his first kiss. go easy on him, maybe?
you move away, slowly, as though trying not to startle him, to find a pair of golden feline eyes blinking back at you. they’re swimming with something unintelligible, something akin to… need? you think you must be seeing things. you’re tipsy, after all.
the silence that hangs over the pair of you is heavy—too heavy. it hurts your shoulders. you laugh so that it goes away, covering your face as though kenma’s timidness was contagious and has now spread to you.
eventually, when you peer back up at him, he’s grinning almost… triumphantly. despite the blush that covers his entire face, he looks victorious. his face replaces any words he could say, and he turns back to his game without a word.
you, however, struggle to keep your thoughts to yourself.
“can we do that more often?” you ask, leaning your frame against his, nuzzling your face into his warmth.
“yeah, we can.”
#kenma x reader#kenma kozume x reader#kenma x you#kenma imagine#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu fanfic#hq x reader#꒰ lovers. ꒱ — kenma
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Dating Nanami Kento
Minors DNI
Word count: 500 ish
Tags: smut, fem reader, masturbation, oral (m receiving)
Nanami Kento has a decently high sex drive, you just wouldn't know it for a long time because he's such a gentleman about it. He won't kiss you on the first date, except for a peck on the cheek. Even when the kisses start to get heated one night a few dates in, he still won't touch you anywhere intimate, definitely no groping. He won't mention anything about you two sleeping together since he's waiting for you to bring it up when you're ready.
Of course that doesn't mean he's not sporting a raging hard-on from you wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your breasts up against his chest when you kiss him, because he definitely is. And it also doesn't mean he's not fisting his cock to the thought of you as soon as he gets home from your date, needing to let all that built-up tension out (although not before he sends you a quick text that he got home safe and had a great time with you ❤️).
He's never asked you to send nudes, he wouldn't want you to think he only wants you for your body, but that doesn't mean he's not jerking his almost painfully hard cock to one of the selfies you sent him that he thinks you look especially beautiful in. His hand is a blur over his thick girth as he pumps a fat load of cum onto a paper towel with a low groan of your name while he looks into your eyes on his phone screen. He looks incredible when he cums too -leaned over slightly, his blonde hair falling forward, his face flushing and his mouth hanging open, the hard muscles of his stomach clenching and flexing as his orgasm peaks and his cock pulses with the force of all that hot, thick semen shooting through it.
He'd be ashamed to admit how often he cums to the sight of your face alone, or how one time his cum shot out a little farther than he thought it would and landed on his phone, covering your selfie in it, and now he secretly fantasizes about getting to cover your gorgeous face with his load in real life. You'd never be able to guess any of this from your new boyfriend's overly courteous behavior, but when you offer to go down on him a couple of weeks later, Kento's brain short circuits for several seconds before he manages to sputter out a "o-only if you want to, darling."
And he tries so hard to stay reserved, but the moment you wrap your lips around the swollen tip of his dick and your warm, wet mouth envelopes him, he's throwing his head back and hissing out a soft "fuck!" And when those beautiful eyes of yours look up at him while your mouth is stuffed full of his fat cock, he knows he's absolutely done for.
#kento nanami x reader#nanami smut#nanami kento smut#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#nanami imagine#kento nanami smut#nanami kento x reader#nanami kento x you#jjk#nanami fanfic#nanami kento#nanami jjk#nanami x reader#nanami x you#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk imagines#kento nanami#jjk nanami#nanami fic#kento x reader#kento x you#jjk fic
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this is for you, @ttsbaby01
here's the piece that inspired this
1.5k words because who knew i needed to write something like this today. i kinda edited it, just a quick skim, though.
simon x f!reader,
tw: explicit smut, p in v, the usual, MDNI
Simon teaches Johnny some new tricks
The moment Simon saw you wince when Johnny pushed himself inside of you, that was all he needed to see. Incredible. For someone that brilliant, Johnny is obtuse when it comes to sex.
Maybe he's blinded by lust, who knows, but Simon almost grimaces at the pace he starts off with, and when he sees you flatten your feet on the bed to meet Johnny's thrusts, Johnny simply pins you down with his weight, forcing you still.
Poor you. All you wanted was to come, and Johnny couldn't even tell, too focused on pistoning his hips into you to meet his own end.
How greedy.
And when Johnny does come, Simon chuckles when he sees your face. It’s mildly disappointed but unsurprised— like you’re used to it.
He watches Johnny kiss you before he pulls out and immediately gets up to shower. That's his cue— the sorry excuse of a show is over. Simon's about to shut his laptop when he sees your hand slowly travel down to your aching pussy and circle your neglected clit with your fingers. Oh?
When he hears your pleasured moan again, he sits up on his chair, pupils expanding as he takes you in. Now this is what he wants to see.
Every delicious whimper and mewl that slithers out of your throat makes his cock twitch in his trousers. He can't help himself. Simon takes himself out and starts to pump according to the rhythm you've set.
Oh, you take it slow, sensual, for a bit, and then pick up the pace. Your moans start to get a little louder as you circle faster and press much smaller fingers into your abused cunt. He knows that his one finger could stuff you better than two of yours.
He knows that he could pull those sweet sounds out of you with his tongue flicking your clit, his stubble scraping your inner thighs raw, his fingers curling inside to find the rough patch of skin on your slick walls.
His eyes are shut as he squeezes himself, precum dribbling onto his knuckles, and when he hears you climax— airy, high-pitched moans that's a bloody symphony to his ears— he also comes. Simon spills all over his hand and stomach, seed sticking to his happy trail, and he couldn't give a fuck less. You're the best thing he's heard in a very long time, and he's debating replacing the classical music he usually listens to at work with your voice.
Simon languidly opens his eyes to look at you on his screen, and the fucked-out, blissful look on your face is something that'll be engrained in his head forever.
He watches Johnny step out of the bathroom with a towel around his trim waist and lowers himself onto the bed to kiss you.
Simon shakes his head, and with his clean hand shuts the laptop. It seems he's gotta teach Johnny how to treat his girl right.
--
"How was it, LT?" Johnny gloats.
Sighing, Simon pulls him into his office and takes out his personal laptop. "You tell me, Sergeant."
Johnny looks gutted when the video gets to Simon's favorite part.
"Yer jokin'." He sounds miserable, and Simon would feel bad if Johnny hadn't been a braggart about how he fucked you in the beginning.
"'Fraid not' Johnny. I gotta admit, I didn't take ya to be tha' selfish."
Johnny opens his mouth to defend himself when Simon silences him with a swipe of his gloved hand. "I can help ya, though. Let me teach ya how t'please her so tha' this embarrassment doesn't happen again, yeah?"
Johnny's eyes, colour a mix of sea and sky, shine brightly as he looks up at Simon. "Are ye serious?"
"Wouldn't offer if I wasn't."
Simon clenches his jaw painfully tight when Johnny agrees.
Only once Simon stands alone in his office does he let his emotions show. The sound of his fist hitting the desk fills the room, first with one resounding thump, then with another, leaving his knuckles throbbing. He's going to bloody ruin you.
Maybe Johnny will be willing to share you after all of this is said and done.
--
Johnny came to him later that day, letting him know that you had also agreed, but no mask at home. You won't sleep with someone whose face you can't see.
Simon almost took his mask off in exhilaration on the spot.
--
Simon has your legs propped on the edge of the bed as he lapped at your sopping cunt.
"Johnny, ya gotta focus here," he pointed his tongue and circled it around your swollen clit, making your back arch, and Johnny has to tighten his hold on you. He sat behind you, your back to his chest, his arms around you as he looked over your sweaty shoulder to watch Simon eat like a man starved.
"And gently curl your fingers inside, you're looking for..." he paused, the tendons in the middle of his wrist fluttering as he prodded until you were squealing, dripping slick down his hand. "That. You're looking for her sweet spot," he instructed.
Simon keeps rubbing your walls, and every movement has the obscene squelching of your drenched cunt getting noisier. "She's about t'come, I can feel her startin' to squeeze my fingers. Look at her, Johnny. That's the face ya wanna see," and then he turns his attention to you. "Come f'me, pet, let me hear ya."
He encircles your clit with his lips and sucks, and you shatter in Johnny's arms— head thrown back onto his shoulder, trembling violently, loudly dry sobbing at the toe-curling ecstasy that's searing through your veins, stealing the very oxygen in your lungs. Simon doesn't stop thrusting his fingers, prolonging your pleasure, taking every bit of it for himself. It's the only time he'll be selfish.
Your head is clouded with arousal, numb from pleasure, and you can vaguely feel yourself being laid flat on the bed, limp legs hooked over shoulders, feet resting on a strong back— muscles rippling with each movement.
There's a buzzing sound in your ears, and you can see Johnny's lips moving, talking to you, and then he's stepping away. You lazily turn your head to the side, and watch Johnny kneel by the side of the bed, gaze intense as he looks towards where Simon is. Then there's something hot, heavy, and thick pressing into your entrance, splitting you open, sensitive walls stinging at the stretch, and it goes deep, and even deeper still— it seems never-ending until there's a pinch in your lower stomach.
"Atta girl, love." Simon grips your jaw with one hand, and commands, "Eyes on Johnny, sweetheart. Let him see ya and let me hear ya."
And starts to pump his hips. The depths that he's in are devastating, it feels like he's rearranging your insides, which is strange because Johnny's got a monster in his pants as well, but this.
This is different.
You're so sensitive from your prior orgasm that it feels so much more intense, and you can't even try to hold back the keens that are being wrenched from you. Your vision is blurry with tears from overstimulation, but you keep your gaze on Johnny, and he looks painfully aroused. His cheeks are bright pink, his mouth slightly open as he pants, eyes molten as he looks at your cunt swallowing up someone else's cock.
God, he's so pretty.
You're brought out of your musings when Simon places a pillow underneath you, lifting your hips and changing the angle.
The way Simon fills you to the brim with his cock, pushing you to, if not past, your limit is just plain disrespectful.
And then he grabs your legs by the ankles, your thighs touching your chest, folding you in half like a napkin to start thrusting shallowly— the tip of his head gently jabbing into your g-spot.
Your head goes blank, vision white, and your mouth opens into a silent scream, or maybe not so silent, who knows who cares.
Simon thrusts 4 times before that coil in your stomach snaps like a pencil. Your cunt clamps down on him like a vice, unwilling to let him move, but he only grunts and starts to slam his hips into your soft arse— spine rattling from the strength of him. He unrelentingly fucks you through your climax, hips never losing their rhythm.
He's bottoming out now, and you swear you can feel him in your throat, and he starts to pound into your used cunt. When you hiss from how tender you feel, Johnny cups your cheek and leans in to give you a soul-stealing kiss. It's sloppy, you can hear the slick sounds your mouths make, and when you moan into him, Simon's thrusts turn sloppy, choppy. Then he pulls out with a loud snarl to spurt thick, viscous cum directly over your puffy slit, coating your mons with it too— only to push himself back inside, head dripping with his seed, and slowly thrusts until he's overstimulated.
Simon gently lowers your legs back onto the bed, and you groan at the ache when you feel your blood rushing back to them.
"Fuck me," you mumble tiredly, and Johnny chuckles in response.
"Simon already did tha', bonnie." Johnny presses a kiss to your sweaty forehead and looks at Simon.
"I now ken what ye mean, LT. This was a different beast altogether."
You huff out a laugh because beast indeed.
Jesus.
#call of duty#simon ghost riley#johnny soap mactavish#simon ghost riley x f reader#simon ghost riley x reader#cod mw2#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley smut#simon ghost riley x you#simon riley x you#simon just helping his bff out#what a good guy#cod mwii
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definitely the annoying little brother
luke hughes x female!reader, jack hughes x platonic!reader
summary - 5.2k words. living in an apartment with your best friend is great, but living in an apartment with your best friend and his brother... not so great
author's note - so... got a little carried away with this one, might write a part 2 idk yet but I love cocky Luke
warnings - mentions of alcohol, swearing, smut (first time writing so hopefully it isn't total shit)
When you moved to New Jersey you felt absolutely lost. Don't take it the wrong way, it was great – a prestigious college, a change of surroundings, and a fresh start. Your journey took an unexpected turn when you accidentally bumped into someone, quite literally bumping into him, drenching him in your freshly bought coffee. That someone was Jack, who had also just moved to New Jersey after being drafted to the New Jersey Devils. Like you, he was lost, navigating the unfamiliar terrain of a new beginning. Quickly you became best friends, helping each other with everything. You were there to cheer him on in the stands, and cheer him up during his rough rookie year, and he helped you out with your schoolwork, making sure you never felt alone in the stress of college life. You both shared a lot of laughs, late-night chats, and supported each other through thick and thin. And when you struggled to find a new apartment, he offered to let you stay in the guest room without hesitation. When weeks turned into months, you realized that living together clicked for both of you, turning what was meant to be a temporary arrangement into a lasting living situation.
When Luke was drafted, you were on the edge of the seat in the apartment, eyes glued to the screen in anticipation as the New Jersey Devils were about to announce their pick. The moment Luke’s name was called, you leapt up, a surge of joy overwhelming you. You were thrilled, not just for Luke, but because you knew how much this meant for Jack – having the chance to play alongside his brother, to improve and grow together on the ice. You watched the screen as Jack sprung from the couch, shaking with excitement. Jack had told you that if Luke was drafted to the Devils, he would move into the apartment. However, from the friendship you had with Jack, you could only be excited for the fun ahead with two goofy brothers.
But here you were, angrily banging on the shared bathroom door, “LUKE! Are you fucking kidding me, I’m gonna be late.” The reality of living with Luke was far from pleasant and fun. Luke was definitely the annoying brother of the three. Unlike Jack, who was always kind and considerate, Luke seemed to barely tolerate your presence, often making snide, witty comments, as if he wanted to fire you up.
The apartment had become a warzone, filled with incessant arguing, shouting, and tension thick enough to cut with a knife. In Jack’s absence, there was no one acting as the peacemaker, no one stopping the two of you. Luke was leaving the bathroom messy, his toiletries scattered, leaving dirty dishes in the sink, not even bothering to put them in the dishwasher, and taking your clothes out of the dryer leaving them in a pile on the floor so he could use the machine, he even went as far as to have a party the night before your midterm. You couldn’t help but feel like he was doing it on purpose, you knew he was raised well, with proper manners and common decency – cause you knew what Jack was like. You knew, you knew he was doing it on purpose, to get under your skin. And what bothered you most, was that it was working.
Luke finally unlocked the bathroom door, and as he swung it open, a cloud of steam escaped into the hallway. His hair was damp, a towel wrapped around his lower body, showcasing his muscles. “You don’t have to spend that long in the bathroom, especially when you end up looking like that,” you remarked sharply, your arms crossed.
“Like what? Incredibly handsome?” Luke retorted, a smug smirk playing on his lips.
“No, like shit,” you fired back without missing a beat.
“Well, you look pretty shit yourself. So you don’t really need to go to the bathroom before school anyways,” he chuckled, clearly pleased with his response. Frustrated, you rolled your eyes and pushed past him to move on with your day.
-
“Come on Y/N,” Jack whined, his voice dragging, practically on his knees as he begged. His team was heading out to celebrate their victory from the night before, and with your schedule finally clear after non-stop stress, Jack insisted on you joining them, arguing you deserved a break. But, his team included a certain someone – Luke. The idea of enduring hours into the night, subjected to Luke’s endless barbs and comments, now potentially amplified by alcohol, spelled nothing but trouble in your mind.
“I’ll put you on my tab, if you come,” he offered, hoping to entice you with the promise of a free night out. You couldn’t help but laugh at his desperation for you to join, “Come on, I know you guys rotate who keeps the tab,” you retorted, narrowing your eyes playfully at him, “And you were the one paying last time.”
“Please I’ll clean the bathroom the next three weeks,” he proposed.
“Four weeks.”
“Okay next four weeks. And I'll make you lunch for those weeks too,” he said, extending his hand in a peace offering.
“Deal. But I’ll skip on the lunch since you barely know how to cook broccoli.”
-
“Aren’t we going to wait for Luke?” you questioned, slipping into your boots, a hint of curiosity in your voice. Jack couldn’t help but chuckle at your question, giving himself a once-over in the mirror. “Suddenly become best friends with your ‘enemy’?” he teased. “Absolutely not,” you replied with a snort, “Just needed to know if I had to fight for us to sit in the back.”
The Uber drove into the bustling city of New York, skyscrapers rushing by in a blur. Luke had headed out early with Holtz and Mercer, leaving you to revel in the peaceful drive to the club, free from any of the usual bickering. The car was filled with laughter and lighthearted banter, both you and Jack bubbling with anticipation for the evening ahead.
A chime sounded as the elevator announced your arrival to the club’s level, and as the doors slid open, you were greeted by a stunning panoramic view of New York City. the vibrant lights and endless skyline stretched out before you, leaving you in awe. “Pretty sick, right?” Jack nudged you, his smirk infectious, clearly proud of the evening’s choice. The club’s interior buzzed with energy, packed with people moving rhythmically under the glow of shimmering lights. The music enveloped the space, so loud and deep that the bass seemed to vibrate through the very floor. Jack, with a reassuring grip, took your hand and guided you through the crowd, weaving towards the table where his teammates were gathered.
They all excitedly greeted the two of you, ushering for you both to join them at the table. You loved Jack’s teammates – they were just as kind and welcoming as him, making everyone feel included and part of the fun. They made you feel like a part of the team. And then there was Luke, he didn't even glance in your direction when you approached the table, too invested in a conversation with Timo to care – yeah sure.
As soon as you sat down, drinks were served – Jack with his usual beer, and for you, a Tom Collins, your all-time favorite. You couldn’t help but chuckle, Jack even went as far as to make sure you got your favorite drink.
After a few more drinks and hearty laughs, Jack pulled you out of your seat and onto the dance floor. The music took over as soon as you started moving, and you found yourself really enjoying the moment. Dancing there with Jack, you felt genuinely happy that you’d agreed to go out. And you forgot all about his annoying little brother.
Dancing, lost in the rhythm and the music, you realized your glass was empty. Sliding through the crowd, you made your way to the bar, navigating the sea of people all moving to the same beat. The bartenders moved with swift precision, a blur of activity as they tried to keep up with the endless stream of orders shouted by the eager club-goers.
Waiting to be served, you suddenly felt a hand wrap around your waist. Startled, you turned around, meeting the drunken gaze of a stranger. “What you getting beautiful?” He was undoubtedly handsome, but the whole ordeal made you somewhat uncomfortable. You tried to respond, but only managed to stumble out an incoherent answer.
He leaned in, his breath brushed your ear, the words “Why don’t I buy you a drink, and then we can continue the party at my place?” lingering in the air between you. The proposal sent an uncomfortable shiver down your spine, and not the good kind. You were caught off guard, unsure of how to escape the situation, all you managed in response was a sheepish smile, your mind racing for a way out. In a sudden move, he leaned in. You were frozen, unable to move away, you just tightly shut your eyes, bracing for impact. However, the kiss never landed. With your eyes still closed, the sounds of a scuffle broke through the music.
Then he leaned in closer, his breath fanning over your ear, “Why don’t I buy you a drink, and then we can continue the party at my place.” it sent a shiver down your spine, and not the good kind, you could only offer a sheepish smile. Then in the whiff of a moment he leaned in trying to give you a kiss. You were frozen, you couldn’t move away and just closed your eyes, bracing for impact. But the kiss never came, eyes still closed, you heard commotion.
“Back off. She’s not going anywhere with you.”
Opening your eyes, you found Luke standing between you and the stranger. He had pushed him, shielding you from his advances.
“You okay?” Luke asked as he lightly brushed your arm, his towering presence offering a sense of security. You looked up at him, slowly giving him a small nod. What the fuck just happened.
Without missing a beat, Luke turned to signal the bartender, “Two Tom Collins’, please.” The bartender acknowledged with a nod and swiftly got to work on the drinks.
As he handed you one of the glasses, Luke’s hand found its way to the small of your back, guiding you with a surprising gentleness toward the dance floor. The music, once again, wrapped around you, quickly making you forget all about the uncomfortable encounter at the bar.
You found yourself dancing close to Luke, you had never been this close to him before, ever. However, you found it somewhat comforting. He seemed to sense this shift too, his hand gently placed at your hips, his voice teasing, “Considering how much you complain about me hogging the bathroom, you seem pretty okay standing this close to me.”
The comment took you by surprise, a rush of warmth flooding to your cheeks. You were quick to retort, attempting to mask your fluster, “Blame that on the club being crowded. If our apartment was this packed, I’d have moved out by now.”
You felt weirdly comfortable in Luke’s presence now, and it seemed he noticed. “Considering how much you complain about me hogging the bathroom, you seem pretty okay standing this close to me.” it caught you off guard and you felt a warmth rush to your cheeks. You quickly shook it off, “Blame that the club is crowded. If our apartment was this packed, I'd have moved out by now.”
Luke smirked, leaning in closer than before, his breath tickling your ear as he whispered, “Or maybe you’ve just realized how much you actually enjoy my company. All these complaints might just be your way of asking for more attention.”
Caught in the unexpected closeness, you tried to maintain your composure. “Dream on, Luke. If I wanted more of your attention, I’d just lock myself in the bathroom with you,” you shot back.
“Yeah, wouldn’t you like that.” that damn smirk, you wish you could just wipe it off his face.
What. Was. Happening?
Confused and a bit flustered, you mustered up an excuse, before navigating through the lively crowd, towards Jack at the table.
“Enjoying yourself?” Jack’s voice pulled you back to reality, his tone playful as he nudged you gently.
“Fine,” you responded, rolling your eyes at the boy. “I’m having fun. But you didn’t have to make them order my favorite drink,” you laughed, giving in to his bright smile.
Jack joined in the laughter, but something in his response made it seem he was laughing at you, not with you. He tilted his head looking at you, genuinely puzzled. “I didn’t tell anyone to order your favorite drink.”
“Well, who’s in charge of the tab tonight?”
“Luke.”
-
The next few weeks, you tried your hardest to avoid Luke. The whole situation in the club… it was confusing, it was so unexpected but for some reason you didn’t mind the closeness that happened that night. But you couldn't face him. You even got up hours earlier than necessary to avoid the usual bathroom argument, waiting a few extra hours before class or work. It was tearing your sleep schedule apart, but it was for the best.
Your eyes were glued to the bright screen of your phone – 3AM. You let out a frustrated sigh, you couldn’t sleep. The room felt like an oven, the early arrival of summer in New Jersey wrapping your space in an unbearable warmth. Stress of upcoming exams layed heavy on your subconscious. And the thought of having to get up in two hours just to avoid Luke, didn’t help much either.
Defeated, you pushed yourself out of bed, sliding into your fluffy slippers. Glancing at your reflection in the mirror, you sighed, you looked a mess. Hair tied up in a messy bun, and Jack’s New Jersey Devils t-shirt hanging loosely around you. Whatever. At this ungodly hour, no one would see you anyways, and the boys probably have early morning practice.
Carefully, you pushed the door open, trying to minimize the telltale creak. With light steps, you tiptoed down the hallway, aiming for the kitchen. The gentle illumination from the counter lights greeted you, casting a soft, inviting glow over the room – Jack must’ve left it on. However, the comfort quickly turned to your dismay when you spotted the very person you’d tried so hard to avoid for weeks on end – Luke. His back was turned, curls messy, and a pair of pajama pants loosely hanging around his waist. His back muscles, his shoulders, all on display.
The sight of him triggered an immediate response – you knew you needed to get out of there before he noticed you. You turned your heel, your slippers betraying you with a sharp squeak against the floor.
“Going somewhere?”
You cleared your throat, gathering the courage to face him as you slowly turned around. There he was, casually leaning against the kitchen counter, a bowl of cereal cradled in his hands – his midnight snack. “Just needed some water. Didn’t realize I had company,” you managed to say, trying to sound nonchalant.
He let out a soft chuckle, the spoon in his bowl making lazy circles. “Can’t sleep either, huh? The kitchen’s open for all, y’know.” I mean he wasn’t wrong. Despite your efforts to maintain a distance, you did live together, and spaces like the kitchen were neutral ground, even at 3AM.
“Yeah, I… I guess I’ll just grab that water then.” navigating the awkward silence towering the room, you reached for a glass, making your way to the sink – coincidentally right beside where Luke was enjoying his cereal. His presence was towering over you as you filled the glass with water.
“You know, for two people who claim to dislike each other, we do end up in the same place a lot.” Luke observed with a smirk that you felt rather than saw.
You scoffed, attempting to maintain a facade of indifference. “We live in the same apartment Luke, and your brother is my best friend. Don’t get the wrong idea.”
“Well, you’re wearing my t-shirt, so don't blame me,” he countered.
You huffed, caught off guard. “This is Jack’s.”
He chuckled lightly, “I’ve been looking for it for weeks, thought I lost it. But now I know you just wanted to feel like you were sleeping next to me.”
You let out a scoff, annoyed, “In your dreams, asshole.”
He stepped closer, reducing the distance between you to mere inches. “Y’know, you could’ve just asked. I’d gladly let you sleep in bed with me,” he said, the smirk evident in his voice as he towered over you.
Your heart was racing, your voice caught in your throat at the sudden proximity. In a moment of panic, you retreated, mumbling an incoherent “I have to go,” as you hastily made your escape.
-
The usual calm and comfortable space of your apartment, was tonight transformed into a space buzzing with energy, laughter, and booze. It was Jack’s birthday, and as his best friend you were determined to throw him the best celebration possible – a surprise party. You pulled out all the stops, inviting friends, his teammates, and with the off-season granting a rare break, Trevor, Cole, and Alex were able to join the festivities. As you navigate the cluster of people, a glass nestled gently in your grasp, your gaze inadvertently landed on Luke. There he was, nestled in a corner of the room, deeply engrossed in conversation. By his side stood a girl whose laughter harmonized so seamlessly with his, it almost seemed choreographed.
A strange unease began to coil within you at the sight. There was Luke, entirely absorbed in dialogue with whoever this girl was, and something about it unsettled you deeply.
“Seems like Luke’s really hit it off huh,?” Trevor’s voice cut through the hum of the party, his tone playful yet pointed as he caught your fixed gaze and gave a teasing nudge.
“Yeah, looks like it,” you found yourself responding, striving for indifference even as you couldn’t tear your eyes away. You weren’t sure why, but the observation felt like it lodged itself in your chest.
Jack’s laughter soon joined in, bright and unaware of the subtle tension you felt. He slapped your shoulder genially, “Luke’s always been a charmer. Who’s the lucky lady this time?”
You attempted a noncommittal shrug, trying to shake off the knot forming inside. “No idea.”
-
“This is nice isn’t it,” Jack's voice cut through the comfortable hum of the city. The sun was shining, pouring its warmth over Jersey City, a gentle breeze complemented the heat perfectly.
The sun was shining, it was warm outside accompanied with a gentle comfortable breeze. It was a great day in Jersey city.
As you wandered through the city with Jack, it felt like old times, just the two of you. His excitement was contagious, sparking a lightness that you had been missing for too long.
“I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever. And we live together,” he joked playfully nudging you, but you could sense the underlying truth in his words – he genuinely missed these moments together.
And he was right; it had been a while. The efforts you’d put into avoiding Luke eventually affected Jack as well, as the two of them shared basically the same schedule. You didn’t want to tell him the truth, that you were avoiding luke and then possibly having to explain why.
“Yeah, I’ve missed this, it’s just that I've been drowning in school work lately.” It was a bad excuse, but it was the best and most realistic you could come up with.
Deciding to take advantage of the beautiful weather, you suggested heading to one of your favorite cafes. The idea of soaking up some sun while catching up seemed perfect. Once you found a spot in the outdoor seating area, you offered to go in and order for the two of you. By the time you returned with two coffees, the dynamic at your table had unexpectedly changed. Two additional figures were now seated beside Jack, their curls a dead giveaway – you recognised those curls anywhere. A sigh escaped your lips as Jack, beaming with enthusiasm, gestured towards them. “Hey, Y/N! Look who I found!” The two ‘curlyheads’ turned to face you, John and Luke greeting you with smiles, with Luke’s carrying his signature, teasing smirk.
Reluctantly, you settled into the chair next to Jack, putting up your best efforts to remain composed, polite, and NOT awkward. The conversation flowed effortlessly, but you, you remained quiet. Occasionally offering a nod and a brief reply. Your eyes shifted between John and Jack, effectively avoiding Luke, as if by ignoring Luke, you could somehow make the situation less complicated.
Eventually, John and Luke made their casual exit. You managed a tight smile and a polite wave, holding on to the facade of composure until they were out of sight. The moment they were gone, Jack’s attention snapped back to you, his brows furrowed in confusion and curiosity. “Why were you acting so weird?”
Suddenly, the cafe’s cozy outdoor setting felt more like an interrogation room, and you were in the spotlight.
“Wha-what do you mean,” your voice wavered despite the smile you plastered on. “I wasn’t being weird.” you countered, hoping the denial sounded more convincing to his ears than it did to yours.
Jack’s eyes widened in shock, as if he had just cracked the code. The revelation seemed to knock him off balance, almost sending him tumbling from his chair. “Oh my god,” he whispered, a mix of genuine shock and amusement in his voice, as a chuckle broke free. “You’re sleeping with John, aren’t you?”
A wave of relief washed over you at his misinterpretation. I mean it's better than to tell him about Luke, right? In the end Jack is still his older brother, and you couldn’t risk jeopardizing your friendship with Jack, even if whatever was going on with Luke meant something.
Caught between the fear of losing your closest friend and the chaos of the moment, you found yourself nodding along before the word “yes” tumbled out. And now, you possibly just made your situation even worse.
-
Once again, you found yourself at a bar with Jack and his teammates. The night a farewell toast before everyone dispersed for the off-season. The bar buzzed with a contagious mix of laughter and the clinking of glasses, everyone enjoying each other's company before leaving. Throughout the evening, you’d successfully avoided both Luke and John, navigating the minefield of awkward encounters. You also may have indulged in a few too many drinks to steady your nerves.
Finding yourself back at the bar for yet another round of liquid courage, you sensed someone approaching. Turning, it wasn’t Luke’s familiar curls, but John’s. You managed a somewhat forced smile as he settled down beside him. “Hey Y/N having fun?” he asked, his smile was radiating, infectious.
You nervously accepted your drink as it arrived, taking a sip that was perhaps a bit too eager. “Yeah, it’s great hanging out with you guys!”
An awkward silence fell upon you, filled by only the sounds of your silent sipping your respective drinks. John’s laughter cut through the silence, laughing at the obvious awkward situation, breaking the ice with ease. “Y’know Jack’s been chirping me relentlessly tonight. Mentioning something… interesting, about us.” you groaned, mentally facepalming yourself.
With a playful gesture, he pointed a finger between the two of you, his expression a mix of confusion and amusement. “Did… did we sleep together one night and I forgot?”
“No no no.” you rushed to clarify, flailing your hands around desperate to clear up the situation. John is, of course, handsome, and after a few too many drinks on a night out, it may have happened under other circumstances. You both burst out in laughter at the situation, dissolving any lingering awkwardness.
John dramatically placed a hand over his heart in relief. “Phew, good. Don’t want Luke getting all jealous on me.” your laughter echoed his, agreeing wholeheartedly until his words fully registered – you never mentioned Luke. “What did you say?”
John merely winked and offered a pat on your shoulder before making his exit, leaving you at the bar, more puzzled than ever.
As the evening unfolded, the flow of drinks seemed never-ending, each one blurring into the next until the vibrant energy of the bar felt like a distant hum. Suddenly, you found yourself seated in the passenger side of a car, the light of New Jersey streaking past in a dizzying display. Barely able to keep your eyes open in your drunken state you looked over to the driver's seat – Luke. “What are you doing? You shouldn’t be driving,” you slurred.
“I was sober tonight Y/N. And you… you were way too drunk, we’re going home,” Luke responded. His tone lacked its usual lightness, replaced by a firm blunt response. The drive was engulfed in silence, a tension hanging in the air that even your drunken haze couldn’t miss.
“So, cozying up with John,” Luke remarked, a hint of something indefinable in his tone.
Luke had seen you at the bar. His voice carried a weight, similar to the unease you felt when you saw him with that girl at Jack’s birthday.
Words failed you as you tried to respons, a string of incoherent mumbles and half-words coming out of your mouth. You felt like you were burning up, put on the spot, panicking. “Trying to make me jealous?” You blinked in shock at his question. There was no hint of anger in Luke’s voice; instead, he sounded amused. You could almost feel his smirk.
As you finally mustered up the courage to face him, there it was – that infuriating, captivating smirk. Part of you wanted to punch it off his face, yet another part was inexplicably drawn to it. “I… I wasn’t…” you stuttered, struggling to articulate your thoughts. Luke let out a soft chuckle, his hand leaving the steering wheel, landing comfortably on your thigh.
“I’ll admit, I got a bit jealous. But i know John wouldn’t do that to me,” he said, giving you a gentle squeeze. You were totally lost. Luke was jealous? Why? You weren’t trying to make him jealous. Your intentions had been the polar opposite – you were trying to avoid him. And here you were, alone, in the car, with Luke.
“And I know you wouldn’t do that either. You’re too charmed by me, aren’t you.” The car came to a stop, you were outside the apartment. Luke finally turned to meet your gaze. His question hung in the air, you didn’t know what to say. You weren’t interested in Luke, at all. You were just confused, right?
“Is that the reason why you’ve been avoiding me?” His words struck a nerve, he knew. He knew, that you’d been in fact avoiding him. You found yourself locked in his gaze, unable to pry your eyes away from his. Luke didn’t look away either, it was as if he was uncovering every secret, exploring every inch of you with his eyes.
In a swift, almost breathless moment, he leaned over, his lips finding yours. The kiss caught you by surprise, yet the thought of pulling away never crossed your mind. Instead, you found yourself surrendering – melting into the warmth of his lips. Your hand instinctively found its way to his curls, fingers weaving through them, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss.
You were moving in perfect sync.
His hand reached out, unlatching your seatbelt, freeing your from its restraint. With an ease of urgency, you climbed over the midconsole, never losing the precious contact between the two of you.
His hands found their way to your hips, finger pressing into the soft fabric of your clothes, pulling you even closer. Arching your back at the contact, your clothed core merely inches away from him, only your clothes separating you. Intoxication swept over you, but it wasn’t the alcohol swirling through your veins that left you dizzy – it was Luke. it was the touch of his hands roaming around your body, the feeling of his lips on yours, it was him. And you needed more. Your hands seemed to take on a life of their own, grasping at his shoulders, tugging at his curls, wrapping around his neck – anything to be closer to Luke.
Lost in the moment, straddling Luke in the drivers seat as you deepened the kiss. His hands on your hips, pulling you closer as you grind against him, feeling him harden beneath you. The friction was maddening, and you could feel yourself growing wetter by the second.
You simply couldn’t help yourself.
With a groan, Luke pulls away, leaving you both gasping for air. But the respite is short-lived as you felt Luke’s fingers grazing your inner thigh, sending shivers up your spine. He hooked his fingers under the edge of your panties, pulling them to the side. You bit down on your lip, trying to stifle the moan that threatened to escape as he slips inside, his fingers finding your clit with ease.
But you can’t, you’d been wanting this, needing this, needing him. Needing Luke.
You let out a soft moan, giving yourself over to the feeling of his fingers exploring your most sensitive area. At first, Luke’s fingers moved in small, teasing circles, bareuly brushing against the sensitive bundle of nerves, just watching you fall apart on top of him.
In the haze of pleasure, you found yourself drawn to Luke’s eyes. They were dark, intense, however, there was a hint of care, and maybe even love, taking in every moment of your reaction to his touch.
You couldn’t look away if you tried. Trapped in his gaze, the car filled with the sounds of your heavy breathing and whimpers – you didn’t want to escape.
Luke’s eyes never left yours, watching with rapt attention as your breath hitched in your throat. Your face flushed, eyes closed tight, feeling the pressure building inside you. Luke’s fingers sped up, pressing harder against your clit.
Suddenly, your vision faded, the orgasm tearing through you like a wildfire, your body shaking with the force of your release.
Collapsing on top of him, your breath coming in short, sharp, gasp as you tried to catch your breath. Luke pushed away the mess of your hair, gently caressing your chin, tilting your face so you could meet his gaze. He was smiling, not the usual shit eating smirk, but smiling with genuine care and affection.
What just happened?
#luke hughes fanfiction#luke hughes imagine#luke hughes x reader#luke hughes x y/n#luke hughes fanfic#luke hughes smut#nhl smut#hockey smut#lh43#nhl fanfic#hockey fanfic#hockey fic#nhl fanfiction#luke hughes x you
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Relationship Test
(this isn't gonna be the most description-heavy fic, it's mostly dialogue but I wanted to write this because I think the dynamic of 'gf asking stupid questions to annoy their partner' is really entertaining)
Realistically, Leah should have known from the moment the following question came out of your mouth that you were about to enter an incredibly annoying phase.
"Leah, if I was any supermarket, out of all the ones in the UK, which one would I be?"
She simply turned her head to look at you, completely thrown off by the question. A few moments passed by of her trying to suss you out, figuring out what on earth she should reply to that, before she paused the show you were both watching and took a deep breath.
"Is this a joke or is that a genuine question babe?" She finally replied.
You shrugged a shoulder, fighting off a grin, and looked expectantly at her.
"A genuine question."
Leah once again just stared at you. Where to even begin? Surely, there was no right answer here.
"What one do you think you would be?" She deflected the question, but you just shook your head.
"Good try, but I asked you."
She groaned and threw her head back.
"My love, I have absolutely no idea! I don't look at you and think, 'ah yeah, you are an Aldi', I don't know what you're trying to get at!" She cried out, eyes wide and hands gesturing wildly.
"An Aldi?" You gasped, dramatically feigning offence, even going so far as bringing a hand to your chest to give the full effect. "Leah, that's fucking low!"
"No, I didn't call you an Aldi, babe, I just used it as an example because it's a weird question to ask!"
"Yeah but that was the first one that came to your head! An Aldi, really? Unbelievable. I thought you would have valued me higher than that. Maybe a Tesco at least, but nooo, my girlfriend thinks I'm an Aldi." You sighed and refused to meet her gaze, turning to the paused TV screen and smiling to yourself as you heard her take a deep breath.
"Darling, you are a woman, not a supermarket. I value you higher than I value you myself, okay? It was just a silly question, let's not think too deeply about it." You shook your head once more and stood up from your place on the sofa, storming out the room. "No, babe, where are you going?"
Before you rounded the corner of the lounge, you sent her a cheeky grin and laughed.
"Just the toilet, Le, don't worry." You stated simply, then walked out.
That left the blonde sat stressing to herself whilst also being utterly perplexed at what had just occurred. When you walked back in a few moments later, she still looked visibly shell-shocked, which you couldn't help but giggle at.
"Earth to my girlfriend?" You teased, slotting yourself onto her lap and knocking on her forehead with a knuckle.
"You are something else, I swear." She sighed, a humoured smile on her face as she placed a kiss on your cheek.
Leah survived all of two days before the next one was fired her way, this time, on the drive home from Arsenal training. The pair of you were exhausted, having had a match the day before then being thrown into early morning training the next day. But that didn't stop you from exercising your newfound love.
"Hey Le?" You start, Leah humming. "If I died, would you fall in love again with another person?"
Leah's eyes almost popped out of their sockets at that one. She was still driving, so she couldn't even take a glance at you as she navigated through the London traffic.
"Sorry?" She choked out, sitting up in her seat.
"Would you move on and find another person after me?"
"Is this... a test?" Leah wondered, and it's so hard not to laugh at the hint of nerves clear in her voice.
"I'm just curious." You shrugged nonchalantly.
"I... well, that's a bit of a loaded question, babe." She breathed out, eyebrows furrowed down as she's overridden with countless thoughts. "I mean, first of all I'd be fucking devastated, my love."
"Not what I asked." You told her, to which she panicked more.
"I..." She stuttered over an answer. "I don't know, it would depend I guess?"
"Are you serious?" You begin to argue, Leah wincing and slouching her shoulders. "What do you mean?"
"I have no clue, babe! Sorry for not giving a valid answer, because I don't want to think about you dying!"
"Chill, Le, I'm just teasing you." She dropped her head back against the head rest and groans.
"You are gonna be the death of me." Leah grumbled, glancing at you out of the corner of her eye.
"But seriously though, would you?"
"I swear to f-"
That last one was indeed a bit loaded, so you gave her a week's respite before the next one came. This time? In the cinema, as the adverts played before your chosen film.
"Love?" You whispered, nudging her arm that held her phone. She put it down on the arm rest and turned to you with a soft smile. "I've had a thought that's been plaguing me a bit recently."
"You wanna talk about it here?" Leah frowned, gently taking your hand as you nod. "Okay, my darling, out with it."
"Do you prefer my face or my body?"
Leah stared at you for a solid ten seconds before her body deflated and she dropped your hand. She chuckled to herself and pinched the bridge of her nose, mumbling something under her breath.
"This is another one of those questions, innit." She sighed, turning to you to get confirmation. However, you offered no emotion or reaction. "Tell me, for this one, if this is a genuine... insecurity I need to tackle properly, or if this is another bullshit question."
"I want to know, Leah." You stated. She still couldn't tell if you were serious.
"I prefer your face, my love." She replied truthfully, because that was genuinely her answer.
"Why?" You challenged, still void of emotion.
"Because... that's what I fell in love with first. Your eyes and all the emotions you hold in them, not to mention how beautiful they are. Your smile that immediately makes me smile no matter what I'm going through. Your little freckles, your nose, your eyelashes that I'm still jealous of to this day. Your face was the first impression I got of you, my first glimpse getting to know you. So if you held me at gunpoint and told me to choose, I would say your face. Your body is absolutely beautiful and incredible of course, but you could have no arms and eleven toes and I'm almost certain I'd still love you." Leah answered.
To be honest, that is definitely not what you were expecting. You didn't think a stupid question found in a Tik Tok video captioned 'Questions To Start An Argument' could lead to such a heartfelt admission.
"Oh." Was all you said. "I was supposed to argue back at you."
"What?" She laughed, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pecking your cheek.
"I was supposed to argue and say 'so you don't like this or that about my body' but you kind of took my breath away." You explained with a sheepish smile on your face.
"My love, you know I think you're the most beautiful woman in the world, both your face and your body, but if I could only have one forever, it would be your face. Zero hesitation." Leah admitted. You blushed heavily and hid your face in her neck. "Not to say I wouldn't miss your body. You would miss it too, I know you love when I-"
"Nope!" You slapped a hand over her mouth, knowing exactly where this conversation was heading. "Just because we are in the back row of a cinema does not mean you can start saying things like that."
Leah smirked behind your hand and shrugged a shoulder.
"Your loss, baby."
The next one came when you lay awake in bed with Leah one morning a few days later. You were both lay on your stomachs, your hand gliding over Leah's back under her shirt as you gave her the back scratches she demanded with the promise of paying for breakfast in return. Admittedly, you were more of a morning person than Leah was, hence why the following question came to your mind at 8am whilst she could barely think. Was it possibly a bit unfair to ask such a layered question at a time you knew her mind wasn't as sharp as it could be? Absolutely not.
"Leah, could we discuss a hypothetical situation for a moment?" You asked. She opened one eye and looke at you with a face of disgust.
"Too early." She grumbled, closing her eye again and sighing.
"Okay." You left it for a few moments, before asking anyway. "If someone offered you money to go completely non-contact with me for three months, what's the lowest amount of money you'd accept it for?"
"What?" Leah glared at you, resting up on her elbows as she pushed her hair back out of her face. You went to repeat the question, but she shook her head and interrupted you. "I heard you. I mean, what the fuck kind of question is that?"
"Just curious." You shrugged, shifting to lay on your back and look up at her.
"I wouldn't do that." She said, plain and simple.
"It's only three months. What if it was for like, a million? That's three months of doing nothing for a ton of money, babe. That's a life-changing amount of money." You commented with a grin.
"Would you accept that?" She asked, outraged.
"Of course!" You answered immediately. Leah shook her head and threw the duvet off of her, jumping out of bed. "Come ooooon! You'd accept that too, surely?"
"You are a fucking wind-up." She grumbled, stepping into her slippers and leaving the room.
You stayed in bed with an amused smile, settling back down and wrapping yourself up with the duvet, until a voice came from the other room.
"I'd do it for free if you keep up with these stupid questions!"
At that, you jumped out of bed and ran to meet her in the kitchen, an endless amount of colourful expletives leaving your mouth on the way there.
A busy few weeks followed that morning, so your habit took a backseat to focus on an intense set of games. It slipped your mind completely, until one night when some of the Arsenal girls were around at Leah's apartment, waiting to watch one of the men's champions league games. When a multitude of irritated groans echoed around the lounge at the announcement of the game being postponed for a short while, you grinned to yourself from your place on the sofa beside Leah.
"Girls, I know how to keep us entertained in the meantime." You announced.
"We can't do karaoke again, last time I almost got kicked out of the flat." Leah looked at you with a raised eyebrow in warning.
She was referring to an incident that occurred a few months back - a team bonding evening where you, Leah, and the majority of your teammates had a movie night that led to an intense karaoke session. Consequently, a few of the neighbouring apartments reported such event to the building's security team which resulted in a knock at Leah's door and a noise complaint letter being handed to her.
"Not karaoke, babe. Something better." You wiggled your eyebrows at the other girls and stood up from your seat. "Le, come on, help me get two stools from the kitchen."
"What are you planning?" She asked in a hushed tone as you led her to the kitchen.
"You'll see." You shrugged with a smirk, picking up one of the chairs and gesturing for Leah to do the same. Then, you wandered back to the lounge and placed your stool down in front of the TV, Leah doing the same. "Leah, take a seat."
Some of the girls whispered between themselves at the scene carrying out in front of them, getting a great view of what was about to occur.
"Babe, I swear-"
"Sit down, Leah Williamson!" You demanded, grabbing your phone from the couch.
"Oo, government name!" Beth teased, Leah glaring at her and doing as she was told.
You sat there in silence for a brief moment, trying to find the list on your phone that had been neglected for a little while. Once you'd found it, you looked at Leah across from you in her chair and cleared your throat.
"Leah, this is a relationship test." You stated.
Leah's face fell as the girls laughed loudly at her reaction, her mouth opening and closing like a goldfish whilst she tried to find a response.
"Right now?" She replied, you nodding with a smug grin.
"Yep. I have a series of questions for you that you must answer. No cop-outs, no deflections, just the truth."
"This is gonna be good." Jen smirked, knowing what was about to occur. It had been her that sent you the video about it in the first place, little did she know she had planted such an entertaining seed in your mind.
"Ready?" You asked with an excited smile.
"No, I never agreed to this!" Leah cried out, looking helplessly at her teammates who simply laughed again.
"Suck it up, Leah!" Steph shouted, Beth grinning manically from beside her.
"First question!" You announced, the room falling quiet. "What is your biggest fear?"
"That's not a relationship question!" Kyra exclaimed, earning a smack on the knee from Caitlin.
"I don't know, dying?" Leah replied with a shrug.
"Wrong!" You respond.
"How's that wrong, it's my fear?!" She cried.
"The correct answer was: losing me." You revealed, the room bursting into laughter. You couldn't help yourself and joined in too as Leah groaned and covered her face with her hands.
"I know what this is gonna be now." She grumbled, looking back at you and waiting for the next question.
"Next question." You said, silencing the room. "If a genie offered you three wishes, but if you accepted them, there was a ten percent chance you lost me forever, would you take them?"
"Yeah because I would use a wish to get you back." Leah said with a shrug, thinking she had caught you out.
"Wrong. That's not possible." You shook your head shamefully at her.
"And how was I supposed to know that then?" She hit back, but you shrugged back at her.
"Not my problem." You stated as the girls laughed at Leah's eye roll. "Next. Would you rather never play football again or never have sex with me again?"
That one almost knocked Leah off her seat.
"How am I supposed to answer that?" Her cheeks were bright red as she argued, completely at a loss for words right now.
How had a quiet night watching the football, turned into her being the butt of the joke?
"You have to answer it, love." You lowered your phone and fixed her with a pressuring glare, everyone else in the room looking at her expectantly as they held in their laughter.
"Babe, I..." She stuttered, glancing around at her peers with a frantic look in her eyes.
"You're gonna be in the doghouse, Leah." Katie kindly reminded her, followed by a few muffled laughs from some of them.
"Never play football again." Leah answered in a nervous voice.
"Wrong!" You sighed, shaking your head.
"How is that- I can't fucking win." She groaned frustratedly and clenched her fists as everyone else once again laughed uncontrollably. "Please explain how that answer is wrong, my love."
"You shouldn't let your attraction to me override your career, my darling!" You told her with a dramatic pout. She couldn't help but chuckle at your reply, now starting to see the humour in this situation.
"Aren't you guys romantic." Beth rolled her eyes and waved you both off. "Move on, next question."
"Alright." You cleared your voice again, choosing your next blow. "If you learned that I had been hired to date you as part of a social experiment for research, would you be able to forgive me?"
"What the fuck!"
You couldn't help it anymore. You burst out laughing along with your friends and covered your face as you did, hearing Leah rant in the background of all the noise. A few moments passed of pure laughter before you sat back up straight and looked at your girlfriend who, if she was in a cartoon, would have literal steam coming out of her ears.
"Your answer, please." You asked impatiently, tapping your foot on the floor.
"Dating you is a social experiment, this is absurd, I mean-"
"Moving on." You ignored her rebuttal. "Would you rather kiss me for £100,000 or the prettiest woman in the world for a million?"
Leah took a deep breath, removing all previous irritation in her bones, before answering confidently.
"Prettiest woman in the world for a million." She stated, waiting for you to correct her.
"Wrong, how fucking rude. Why would you not kiss me?" You challenged with an angry scowl.
"Because you are the prettiest woman in the world." Leah stated simply with a soft smile, causing you to blush. The room was silent for a moment as you both gazed at each other, before the sound of someone jokingly gagging disrupted it.
"Get a room!" Kyra shouted, throwing one of the sofa pillows at you both. Everyone else followed her lead and started teasing you both, but Leah simply smirked and stood up.
"Get a room, you say? Alright."
She shrugged before grabbing your hand and pulling you towards her bedroom. The sounds of the others wolf-whistling and cheering followed you until it was shut out by Leah slamming the bedroom door closed.
"You done testing me now?" She asked with her eyebrows raised, pressing you back against the door and holding you in place by your hips.
"Guess so." You smiled uncontrollably at her, to which she laughed and let out a breath before hiding her face in your neck.
"You're a little shit, you know that?" She said, muffled by your skin.
"I know it, babe. You love me for it." You grinned. Leah lifted her back up and leaned down to press your lips together in a firm but teasing kiss, pulling back sooner than you wanted.
"Damned if I do, damned if I don't, right?"
#leah williamson#leah williamson x reader#leah williamson imagine#leah williamson one shot#awfc#arsenal wfc
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I know it seems like striking on social media might not do enough, but as someone who has been outright obsessively using the internet since I was a child to the point that it is literally woven in my soul, been active and involved in online activism for about five years, and been using social media as marketing for about the same amount of time, I can confidently say that
THIS FUCKING WORKS!!
People base their entire businesses on their success on social media. They look at trending topics on twitter and don't see bite sized chunks of culture distilled to its finest and worst moments, they see market data! They don't see you as a single human being, they see you as a data point among thousands run through a probably AI assisted system that's prone to fucking up, that determines everything they're going to do.
How they're going to advertise, who they target it with it, what the general public wants. Every single major corporation uses data from social media websites to do this. Every. Single. One. Social media is a lot of things, and one of those things is a tool for business and politics. We know for a fact that social media politics bleeds out into the real world very fucking quickly.
Even if you can't strike financially, even if you have to go to work or school to survive, striking on social media is one of the best things you can do. Even if it's quiet. People are going to notice when thousands upon thousands of users across various sites go completely dark, and even more when some of them start getting real fucking loud about this. The US Capitalist Infused Government loves sweeping war crimes under the rug once they think the general public has forgotten about their atrocities and fallen into complacency. This system has been doing this for literal centuries.
Social media is just the newest and most expansive form we as a species have developed in the ongoing invention of ways to express our thoughts about things. It's the weirdest one, that's for sure, but executives pay attention to it. They don't often seek to understand it beyond a very basic level, because as I said, they view us as numbers on a screen, not as multifaceted incredibly and deeply fucked human beings. They do not seek to understand us on a personal level unless they think the cost of it won't outweigh the potential profit.
Pattern recognition is the tool of the moment. Machine Learning. Gathering endless amounts of data so we can replicate human existence through machines. You may think that social media strikes are ineffective because social media is just on the internet and it's "not real", but it is real! You are really doing stuff! You are contributing! Even if you're just lurking! Basic amounts of engagement can make a huge impact in a busted algorithm. Maybe you're not someone who would ever be drafted into an actual war-zone due to physical or mental health conditions, but you are probably a part of a key demographic of people that businesses are absolutely hungry for.
The budding adult has always been the target of greedy capitalists basically since this system was established and continued to get worse over time. The stage of your life when you are in the age range of 18-25 is an incredibly important transitional period, followed by a transitional period every six months until you lose sense of what six months even is because you haven't been happy in eight, and if you're in the 18-25 range currently, you got extra fucked by the pandemic. The world is in a turbulent stage and we are at the center of all of it and have been since 2001. Every single social media marketing expert will tell you the 18-25 demographic of social media users is a target demographic, because they are the most prone to extremes due to a life chock full of them.
We have to remember to be human, but we have to also know how to speak their language. They just see us as numbers? Let's show them some fucking numbers. Make posts about Gaza trend on every platform you have your hands on. Even if it's just liking posts, that gives them a slight boost in the algorithm. Commenting on posts is especially important on sites like Twitter and Instagram. But across every site the most important thing to do is reblog/retweet/share/send/copy link, whatever it is for that site, it is the biggest thing that everyone, and I mean EVERYONE looks at.
From a humble artist to a head of marketing at a billion dollar corporation about to have a meeting with a barely over 21 intern about how they need to run the twitter account, to said intern bumbling their way through adulthood with a job they only feel they're good at because they've been using social media since Skype was invented. We need to be loud, we need to make sure this can't be ignored, we can't sweep this under the rug. Mass media, especially coming out of the West, has been trying to censor, de-sanitize, and keep this issue quiet.
DO NOT LET YOURSELF BE SILENCED
There are tens of thousands of DEAD CHILDREN who have been BOMBED while in CIVILIAN AREAS and that is a FUCKING WAR CRIME.
THIS IS A GENOCIDE
Say that as many times as you can. Do not let it be ignored. A silent populous is a complacent one. Use your voice, even as small as it may seem. Make noise. Be loud. Be annoying. Don't let this be ignored. Talk about it everywhere you go. Do not let this be ignored.
Sometimes even we get disconnected from the real people around us. We base our sense of worth as a person based on the numbers going up or down but instead of developing a gambling addiction we just got angry about it but still fall into it because of cultural conditioning. But even if you only have let's say, completely random example, 70 followers. And only a small percent of them will see your post. Let's say maybe 20 on average, 30 on a good day, and even higher based on the machinations of fate. That's still 20 people who took time out of their day to read something you wrote, process something you created, share a part of your experience of living.
And likely they felt compelled to share it too, therefore increasing the spread of people who feel your influence. 20 people may not seem like a lot, but that has a major impact. Now imagine posts into the hundreds, thousands, hundreds of thousands and even millions. Those aren't just numbers. Each and every single one of those is just another person who might have reblogged a post because someone they like shared it, or because they wanted to spread its message, and that simple act causes a single post to have massive waves of effects from simple ripples.
Don't let yourself be discouraged. Don't think your voice or your impact "isn't enough to matter." Everything counts.
Don't let this be ignored. Don't become complacent. Know that every little thing counts, and to do every little thing you can.
#freepalastine🇵🇸#free palestine#free gaza#social media strike#from the river to the sea palestine will be free#strike for palestine#palestinian genocide#palestine#ceasefire#endisraelsgenocide#isreal is committing genocie#do not be silent#please reblog#spread the word#spread awareness#be loud
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I think it genuinely cannot be overstated how important that kiss in season 2 of Good Omens was.
From a plot standpoint, that kiss showed Crowley's desperate attempts to keep Aziraphale, to reel him in and back to the Us that they had built upon.
But from just a show standpoint, they. fucking. kissed.
Obviously their love transcends physicality, and Neil has said that Good Omens is a love story even before season 2, but the outright confirmation of a widely popular queer ship ON SCREEN is just so... Unheard of.
Every fandom or show has their trademark gay couple that aren't-really-gay-but-also-kind-of-are-gay: Merlin and Arthur, Sherlock and John (very heavy offender), Dean and Castiel (okay this one was canon, but we all know what happened IMMEDIATELY afterwards), and I suppose at some point Ineffable Husbands had just been included in the same category as the rest of them.
And to have it be moved from mostly fandom and fan work fuelled to outright canon - like 'they fucking kissed on screen' canon - is just so fucking fantastic.
It's not vague, it's not lines that are blurred for the sake of being on the fence of appealing to two audiences at once, and it's not only canon because the creator just said it's canon without rhyme or reason purely for the sake of appealing to a queer audience (looking at you, Ms J. K. Rowling) - it's undeniable, blatant evidence that Crowley and Aziraphale are in love.
And yes, at the moment it's devastating, but it's also devastatingly real. And that's so important.
Especially with the release of Our Flag Means Death, I really do hope we are entering a new era in mainstream media where queer ships finally aren't treated as some sort of mysterious prize that the writers dangle in front of you like a carrot on a stick, and are just simply treated like any other ship out there.
Because if so, then queer kids will be growing up to these shows, see this new era of unabashedly queer media, and won't have to hide away their ships like some dirty little secret. They won't have to wonder if their representation is even representation. They won't have to get excited over being able to see the small chance of themselves represented in a character only to be let down so incredibly badly, because queerness is good only when it's marketable.
So sure, ending season 2 like that is fucking crazy, but you know what's crazier? Whatever the fuck Neil just did with that kiss.
#and you know what's even fucking crazier than that??? casual queerness in background characters that aren't used as punchlines#the man at the graveyard who used grindr#mutt and his nonbinary spouse#casual inclusion of genderqueer characters#oh my god i love you neil gaiman#i hope he knows the impact he's having on the new generation of queer kids#and maybe i'm talking out of my ass idk. but as someone who watched sherlock as a wee little lad the kiss was VERY important to me#good omens#ineffable husbands#ineffable husbands headcanon#anthony j crowley#good omens crowley#crowley#good omens aziraphale#aziraphale#crowley x aziraphale#aziraphale x crowley#my posts#good omens season 2#good omens 2#ineffable lovers#ineffable idiots#neil gaiman#lgbt representation#representation matters#ineffable bureaucracy#maggie x nina
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I don't rant very often - it's negative energy that I don't want or need in my life - but I feel that as a fan of Pedro Pascal, I'd like to take a moment to highlight what being a fan actually means.
As clearly, some people, some "fans", have demonstrated having a hard time grasping that concept...
Being a fan of Pedro Pascal means I enjoy his career, his portfolio of works.
Sure, I enjoy his physical looks too; the man is certainly as handsome as they come, let's be real here. Yes, I find him attractive.
More importantly, I enjoy what Pedro stands for; his beliefs, his passions. He stands up for injustice, he is an LGBTQIA+ advocate and friend. He is a feminist. He is politcal. He's proud of his heritage.
Is Pedro perfect? Do I believe the sun shines out of his ass? No, he's human and has flaws and off days like the rest of us.
Ain't no-one that is perfect, babe. That's delusion talking if you truly believe that.
I enjoy that Pedro inspires me to be a better human being.
Being a true fan, to me, means only positive things.
It means respect.
It means respecting Pedro's boundaries, be that in person, or online.
It means respecting Pedro's privacy. He has the right, just like any one of us, to a personal life seperate from his career.
Pedro doesn't have to answer to you, me, or anyone else about his private life.
You are not entitled to him, or his time, just because he is a celebrity. (God, I fucking hate that word.) He does not owe you anything, and nor should he be expected to.
Pedro Pascal is a human being.
As a fan of Pedro, I will not write fanfic about him. Only his characters, because his characters are primarily the reason why I admire Pedro. His characters are how I discovered Pedro to begin with.
He can make me laugh, cry, fall in love, wince when he loses an arm, gasp when he double crosses the protagonist. I can survive a fungal apocalypse with his characters by my side.
That's an incredible testament to his talent as an actor that no matter what role he plays, I don't see Pedro on the screen. I only see his characters.
It's his job and he enjoys it. As a fan, I enjoy his craft.
If you do write about Pedro, that's up to you and I am not going to judge, but for me personally, it's a hard no. And I won't be reading any of it either, sorry.
As a fan of Pedro, I can draw the line between fantasy and reality. Meaning, I would never go out of my way to invite, devise, plant myself in deliberately, or exploit a situation where Pedro is in my personal space, or I in his.
Firstly, I'm a realist. And secondly if I ever met the guy, chances are I'd walk right past him and not even notice. (It's happened a lot, not with Pedro but with other actors etc... I live in the capital, there are a lot of them here.)
And thirdly, I am not a stalker.
I would never intentionally track him down in another country whilst he is working or vacationing, and then post about how slighted I am on IG that he told me to politely leave him alone because I was too persistent in getting too close. I would never relocate and uproot my life just to live near him in the hopes we bump into one another and fall desperately in love. 🙄
This is real life people, not a movie.
This kind of behaviour from Pedro's so-called fans is questionable, and frankly concerning to anyone with a sane mind.
I would also never bully or belittle anyone because their fan account is more popular than mine. I would never actively enforce or seek to enforce the deliberate closure of any fan accounts because I am petty or jealous.
Unfortunately this has happened and I am sorry to have heard about those who were affected by it - you did not deserve that.
Sadly, all these things have happened. For real. And it's utterly gross behaviour from, in most cases, fully grown women who are old enough to know better.
We are all here to enjoy and support Pedro, so why is that such a hard concept to grasp? Why does fandom have a toxic corner?
I'll tell you why.
Because thanks to social media, and platforms like Tumblr, it's all too easy to sit faceless behind a keyboard and do and say whatever you want, without any real consequence.
There are always a few bad eggs, in any fandom, who feel they are superior, that they know everything. That because they found a new image or a clip first that they are entitled to police everything. That they are entitled to dictate how fandom should be run.
I've got news for you; you're not.
Fandom is inclusive, sharing, a creative hub for ideas, inspiration. A place to forge friendships, relationships because you have common ground. The coming together of like-minded individuals to celebrate and endorse their admiration for their idol in a safe, non-threatening place.
A place for creativity to flow, for confidence in yourself to grow. To create original stories from canon, to create unique head canon because we don't want these lovable characters to die. To paint amazing pictures. To get excited over Pedro's new projects and discuss your favourites.
That's fandom. That's being a fan.
Being a fan doesn't mean creating, spreading, peddling or posting harmful material that 1) is frankly abhorrently disgusting and is not only insulting to Pedro, but also his family, his friends etc... and 2) could also be potentially damaging to his career.
I am referring to the vile deepfake of Pedro currently doing the rounds now on Tumblr because some idiot thought it was funny to clog up our timelines with it.
I don't want, or need, to see that, thanks.
And whoever created it originally should be fucking ashamed of themselves. I would wholly encourage you to report and block any accounts that have done this.
Imagine how you would feel if your face, your image was used and violated in that way.
You'd be outraged, right? Hurt? Sickened?
This kind of manipulation of AI is exactly what the WGA and SAG-AFTRA are concerned about and were/are striking for.
What Pedro is striking for, and then someone has the gall to pull this sickening stunt.
It's what artists are concerned about. What writers are concerned about. AI wasn't created to be abused in this way.
So, what makes you think that all this behaviour is acceptable to do to a man, who is nothing but generous and kind?
A man who would give you help, no questions asked, if he ran into you, in his own words:
And you have the audacity to call yourselves fans?
A man who, if he knew, what his "fans" do, I'm certain he would be absolutely disgusted and not condone any of it.
☝🏻Let me make it abundantly clear:
If you have looked for, deliberately searched for, posted, jerked off to, liked or shared that vile deepfake clip, video, pic - whatever the fuck it is - in any way then, YOU ARE NO FAN OF PEDRO PASCAL.
And I am certainly no fan of yours.
Do better. Don't be a dick.
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Head empty just
Sagau but readers cellphone now has infinite battery for some reason and theyre on tiktok and watching genshin edits until one of the acolytes sees and gets curious so reader shows everyone the edits made for then
Zhongli: why am i........geo grandpa
Xiao: morax isn't my father
Yae: what is an........Eiussy and why do these humans want it so bad
Venti: (trying to force scara to have anemo vision after seeing the sad scaramouche edits) BUT THE EDITS, YOUR BACKSTORY IS SCREAMING AIR BOY!!!
Scara: GET THE FUCK OFF ME!!!!
WHOOO MY FIRST REQUEST ASK!!!
anyways-
When I tell you that a phone in TEYVAT would be absolute chaos… I mean it.
I can 99% guarantee you that Albedo has asked to experiment on what he refers to as Their Grace’s “strange device.”
(Please keep your phone away from him, as it will not make it out of his lab intact.)
Other acolytes who aren’t as curious about HOW and WHY it works may find interest on seeing you use your device to watch videos.
The people of Teyvat aren’t familiar with advanced technology, so I’d assume it’s fair to say that they would treat your phone as a Divine Object, comparable to the Anemo Archon’s Holy Lyre.
Since you are The Creator, it would be valued a lot more.
Nobody, not even one of the Archons, is allowed to touch such a holy object. Such a thing would be viewed as incredibly disrespectful. How could any of them, lowly acolytes, have the audacity to come into contact with your beloved “phone”?
Now, assuming that the reader can still watch Tik Toks, of course they would like to share some of them with certain characters, because why not?
Also, why wouldn’t you let them in on some of the jokes that are popular in the Genshin Fandom?
If Zhongli knew that he was referred to as “Geo Grandpa” I think his reaction would be one of initial shock.
“What does the title ‘Geo Grandpa’ indicate, Divine One?”
After a little explanation from you, I think he’d catch on. He is aware of his age, after all.
Others may think that the title “Grandpa” is offensive towards a former archon of all things, but he doesn’t mind as long as you are the one saying it. The term “Grandpa” is often used between mortals in a family, so does this mean that you considered him as family?
Whenever you call him by that name, you can expect to see a soft smile across his features.
When Xiao discovered that the fandom considers his relationship with Morax to be one of father and son, he was speechless for a good minute.
You gave him a look, trying to suppress your laughter.
“So…? You’re not denying it.”
He huffed, crossing his arms. “Morax is not my father.”
You wheezed, clearly amused by his flustered expression. Xiao was avoiding your gaze, clearly trying his best to convince you that he did not see the older man as a father figure.
The term “Eiussy” was completely unknown to the Lady Guuji… until she joined you in watching the short films know as “Tik Toks” on the magical screen of the divine “phone”
Now, Yae Miko is quite clever, so it was only natural that she would grasp the concept of what “Eiussy” meant.
She watched a few videos which featured similar titles, such as “Tartussy”, “Scarussy”, and “Kokussy”. All of them played a key role in her eventual understanding of just what exactly “Eiussy” meant.
The very moment she learns the true meaning, I can guarantee you that she will casually bring it up in conversation.
“Your Grace, you would be welcome at Watatsumi Island anytime!” Gorou beams, waving goodbye to you from the docks of Ritou.
The Watatsumi ship had finally arrived, after a lengthy delay following your business meeting with the Inazuman Officials.
“Thank you, Gorou.” You started to say… but the ever famed doggy general had already boarded the ship, and was out of your sight.
“Hmm…” a recognizable voice trailed, as her hand lightly touched your shoulder. Miko gave you a knowing look. “I guess he wanted to get some of that Divineussy”
Your expression remained blank.
“Perfect use of that title.” You praised, staring after the ship, as it departed into the sunset.
If and when Venti saw all of the sad Scaramouche edits… let’s just say that you’d have to physically restrain him.
Restrain him from making his way over to the Balladeer as soon as possible, that is.
Scaramouche would just be doing Fatui work, maybe trying to convince the recruits that the stars are indeed a lie…
And… bam.
A random ass bard pops up out of nowhere.
“Good day! Would you be interested in gaining an anemo vision?”
“What the fuck.”
#cultau#sagau#genshin impact#genshin impact sagau#genshin cult au#genshin crack#genshin sagau#venti#zhongli#genshin xiao#scaramouche
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Hey pookie😽I’d like to request headcanons for the mcyts with an actor/actress s/o.<3 Especially how they’d react to any emotional scenes or if the character that their s/o played dies, im craving some angst right now lol
Ly😻
oooo okay okay ; I'm still very much burned out but unable to give myself a damn break so I apologize for these being so short ; I also named movies to get some inspo so sorry if you don't know any/some of them lol
ALSO!! I'm gonna rework my oneshot links on my masterlist so beware any changes lol
MCYT ; actor reader with death scenes
includes ; tommyinnit, tubbo, ranboo, badlinu, nihachu & quackity
warnings ; language, talk about death, gore & violence
masterlist
TOMMYINNIT
you played a character in evil dead rise, which tommy got really attached too even though you got like 10 minutes of screen time
genuinley started sobbing and laughing at the same time bc your death was so sad to him for some reason yet so cool and bloody
he looks over at you, jaw dropped like "wtf?"
there's actually tears streaming down his cheeks 💀💀💀
you post a pic of him crying on ur ig story and caption it "he's sad I died"
he logs back into his old letterboxd account to rate it 5 stars
his explanation is "my partner died but good movie. I almost cried again seeing the monster thing at the end though"
TUBBO
he is heartbroken
he absolutely loved your character/s even though they were barely on screen
he's also confused as to how he never knew about you being in IT 2017 and 2019 because you looked so different and easter eggs
the 13 v 15 looks were actually so different too, he didn't even recognize you in the first movie until you pointed it out LMAO
the it 2019 death was a lot more sad to him though and it was mostly a metaphor to show that everyone has weaknesses even if they don't think they do etc etc
he just looks at you and then rants about that whole metaphor after pausing the movie and he's literally on it for a solid five minutes
he awoke a different side of himself that night
RANBOO
you had a little cameo in a quiet place pt2
basically your character was alive for a while and helping out the abbotts until you died saving reagan from one of the death angels
she obviously couldn't hear one behind her and your character had to lunge and save her and sacrifice themselves on the island that she ran off too iykwim
like your character went off with her to keep her safe + you died during that chase/fight scene at the end
ran nearly broke down into tears because you got a solid two hours of time in that movie for all that buildup and shit
TO DIE TOO
they started crying a bit cause like ???
literally gave you an award (a massive hug) for your incredible acting skills bc damn
FREDDIE BADLINU
insidious the red door goes crazy
you bond with dalton at college and help him float around and shit
the demon doesn't like that you're helping him whatsoever so it drags your character into the further
the whole kill is done with you exploring the further for a moment, being hunted down by prey and then jumpscared by the demon
it's not a very emotional death but it scares the fuck out of Freddie
"wait, oh my God, they'll never be able to talk to Dalton about supernatural stuff again! what the hell?"
the death was pointless and for a jumpscare but he couldn't care, he enjoyed watching you on the screen
NIKI NIHACHU
you were in the forever purge
you play a very obviously queer & pro-human rights character who's shit on by all the rich, conservative, ranch owning Texans in the movie
you basically had to sacrifice yourself trying to get to the border in time
in the city scene, you get killed as a protection sacrifice
no way you were letting adela die
niki literally started crying bc there was no reason for your character to give up their life but they did anyways
you were such a w the whole movie and she can't help but rant about that as well
she gives you a round of applause at the end cause like that was a damn good performance cmon now
ALEX QUACKITY
alex is never watching any terrifier movie ever again holy fuck
you skipped over the first one bc you couldn't even watch it again and went to the second because you were in it
he was actually on edge the whole movie
what the hell do you mean you were cut in half??? wtf is this?? saw???
he actually almost puked LMAO
you were laughing the whole time your death was playing
"WHAT THE HELL WHY ARE YOU LAUGHING?? THIS UGLY CLOWN IS KILLING MY PARTNER"
"that mf doesn't know you Alex, I do"
"Okay whatever"
#lowkeyrobin#mcyt x reader#mcyt preferences#mcyt oneshot#tommyinnit x reader#ranboo x reader#quackity x reader#badlinu x reader#freddie badlinu x reader#niki nihachu x reader#nihachu x reader#gender neutral reader#gn reader#gn!reader#they/them reader
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welcome to the final show | H.S, part 2
the girlies asked so I deliver!
read part one here, or check out my masterlist!
summary: after the accidental cafe run in, harry and y/n have wound up with each others numbers. and are quick to go from casual texting to organising another time to meet up. including a cafe trip and an unexpected ice creamery visit.
warnings: fluff, swearing, minor mentions of alcohol, nothing too heavy, just our lovely italyrry who is the sweetest ever.
a/n: thank you all so so much for the incredible amount of support on the first part of this official series. and also for your patience in waiting for me to hurry up and post an update. i know it’s been like 2 weeks since the first part, but I really wanted to give you something i took my time working on <3
———
There’s a certain type of disbelief that comes around once and a while. It’s rare.
It’s the kind that you feel straight to your core. That randomly dumps on you during the day like a bucket of water, and leaves your head spinning like that very bucket came crashing down with it.
It happens in a single moment, but lingers for a long time after the fact.
That’s exactly how you felt after harry texted you first. Because not even a few hours later after you’d exchanged numbers, he sent you through, not only a message, but a photo of all things.
One that made your heart swell with its endearing qualities.
A photo of a plate, filled with the food you’d told him earlier that day was one of your favourites.
Sent with a further little message below it,
Your favourite is currently up for grabs at the family gathering. H
The way he’d signed his intial off at the bottom had you nearly throw your phone across the room at how adorable it was.
Like as if you didn’t even know who you were texting.
Again it strewn your thought— is he aware the kind of mental effect this is having on you? Because you’re borderline going to need to phone for an ambulance.
You’re a simple person. A fangirl, to say the least. This shit, despite being able to say ‘I’ve met and talked with Harry Styles for more than 10 minutes’ does not just disappear.
And you had promised yourself not to tell anyone that this had happened— or was happening? Because there would be nothing worse than this somehow ending up online.
And not to treat him like a flighty deer instead of a grown man, but you would hate for that to place a kind of distrust in his hands.
However, all of that self-agreement doesn’t take away the nagging voice in your head that just wants to tell at the very least your immediate friends and family.
But you’re proud to say— after a long 2 minutes of pacing around your hotel room— you manage to craft a reply back.
Well, only after a few rough and undeniably embarrassing drafts that quickly get deleted out of the text bar.
You’re back to sitting on the floor against the bed frame, facing the window looking out on the gorgeous colours of the evening Italian sky.
Heart pounding, and you’re sure this scene from a third person perspective would look like it was pulled from a hallmark movie.
Girl fawning over man’s simple text. Kicking her feet in the glow of Italian sun, with a glass of wine on the floor next to her.
You stared at your finalised message and decided if you didn’t send it now, you would spiral into a never ending pit of doubt. And just end up overthinking the whole thing.
So you just did it. And now on the screen, under his blue message, was your own grey one.
there’s no way. it looks so good! im gonna see if it’s on my room service menu tbh. consider me inspired.
You bit your knuckles. Acting up like a fucking teenager. Waiting for the shock to subside before you actually get up to find the hotel menu.
After you replied back, you were sweating, honestly. Anxious at the fact you had just sent a text to Harry Styles. And unlike a conversation, that shit is permanent. So too bad if it comes off embarrassing.
Which of course, it didn’t on his end. Unbeknownst to you, he almost physically gleamed at sight of your name on his screen for the first time.
You’d nearly dropped your glass of wine when your phone vibrated up on the counter of the hotels kitchen where it was charging.
It’d been about half an hour from when you replied, you’d since ordered room service and sat in your bed to watch tv.
You made sure to place your glass elsewhere as you ran over to grab your phone.
If it wasn’t already all gone I’d save you some. Any luck with the room service?
You’d replied back swiftly, disregarding any kind of waiting to text back rule. You were all too eager to wait.
i managed to score some up from the room service. didn’t look as appetising as yours, but it was still enjoyed. x
And at this, he smiled, looking at the Italian sunset as he thought of you with a curiosity he recognised as all too unhealthy.
———
If you had told yourself two days ago in that cafe, that you have had several full conversations with harry after getting his number… you probably would have laughed.
Yet its not a joke of any kind. You can pinch yourself over and over again looking at those texts, but all you’ll end up with is a bruise and they will be just as real.
But as you read over the most recently received one, pinching would have not been enough of a reality check.
Maybe a frying pan? Probably would do the trick.
You scanned over his words, rubbing your eyes like you were tired and seeing shit— even though you’d been awake since 9am, which was 2 hours ago.
Unless you have plans, I’m going to try this cafe a friend recommended me a while back, if you wanted to tag along?
[ 1 attachment link]
And there’s simply no way that this is happening? But after 30 seconds without a follow up text telling you he’s accidentally sent this to the wrong person, you sit up straight.
Well, you’re not about to ask him if he’s serious right now, so you channel every fibre of casualness left within you and use it to construct a response.
id love to! I’ll get ready to go soon if you want to meet there before 12:30?
That works perfectly. did you need a lift, or are you in walking distance. I can pick you up if you need.
You almost keel over at his offer, and the absolute gentleman move he just made.
You also realise you didn’t even look where the cafe was. Because if Harry Styles asks you to go somewhere with him the answer should always be yes. Figure out the means of getting there and back later.
Either way you open the link and get taken to google maps, and the cafe in question is literally a 10 minute walk away from you.
im in walking distance, it’s about 10 minutes away. so I’ll just make my way there at about 12:15! thank you for the lovely offer though.
And you move as quickly as possible from your bed to your suitcase, ready to tear that thing apart for an outfit.
You don’t want to be over the top, but you have to go with something on the shorter side because it’s already in the high 20’s and it’s not even afternoon yet. So you lug out the many summer dresses you crammed in there, hoping that one of them will strike your interest.
Some get tossed back into your bag as you filter through them, not making the cut for a variety of reasons— like showing too much of your cleavage.
Yea, a good few of them get ruled out for that reason.
But eventually— and thank god, because you were starting to loose hope— you find one that is perfect for the occasion. It’s all types of flowy and comfortable, but still maintains the pretty connotation that summer dresses are known for.
Before putting it on, you go into the bathroom and do your morning routine— fixing your hair as a final step, but deciding to leave it out since there is hardly any wind outside to make it a mess. Plus it will suit the dress.
You somehow managed to take long enough that the next time you look at your phone you realise it’s nearing 12:15pm a lot faster than you expected. So you hustle to get the rest of your shit together, and make your way out the door.
The walk there is as peaceful as you could imagine, just the sounds of chatter from passer-by’s and birds lingering in trees dotting the sidewalk.
But on the inside you are still panicking. The last time you’d meet him in a cafe was a total surprise. This time it’s planned, and that leaves too much room for your brain to overthink it.
As you finally push through the doors of the cafe you had found your way to, a tiny bell above jingles. But you’re hardly focused on it as you look to the front counter.
Seeing the exact person you were here for already grabbing two drinks from a barista at what you can only assume is a pickup counter.
As he spins around, he catches your momentary surprise, complimented by flushed cheeks. To this he smiles and nods you over with his head.
He looked excited to see you. Like a longtime pair of friends meeting up again after a while apart.
Your feet kick back into gear at his nod, following him over to a table that’s tucked into the corner. He had his pleasing bag slung across the top of the chair.
“Hi lovely,” he says the minute you’re close enough to hear his deep voice.
“Hi Harry.” You smile, heart still beating too fast. The words feeling different as they get spoken from your mouth.
He walks the few steps around the table, closing the gap still between you— and he doesn’t wait for you to hug him, he just pulls you straight into the warmth of his arms.
Wrapping you up in a way that you can smell the cologne lingering on the dip of his neck into his shoulder.
His accent is muffled by your hair as he talks gently, “how’ve you been?”
The common question has your head reeling. In its simplicity is still sweetness.
You pull back, his eyes training on yours, looking keenly at you, awaiting an answer from your almost shy lips.
“I— yes, I’ve been really good thank you.” You nod, how could you not be? Look where your standing, who you’re standing with.
“What about you…?” You ask, watching as the corners of his pink mouth upturn.
He’s freshly shaven, you notice, and your fingers twitch with the need to glide over the smooth skin of his cheek.
You resist as he answers, still relatively closer than you should be out in a public place.
“I’m doing well, even better now.” He raises his eyebrows, a cheeky grin coming on his face.
He revels in blood that rushes into your cheeks, reddening them up like you’ve just run a mile.
“Oh, stop it. You’re a bloody flirt.” You roll your eyes in an attempt to play it off, and you also take a step back to seat yourself in the chair at the table he’d picked.
Maybe he was a flirt at most times. But from his perspective, with you in a dress like that? Not to sound like he’s drawing on the one direction lyrics, but as if you don’t know you’re beautiful.
I mean, sure, he thinks you’re aware that you’re pretty. But in the way it’s working him up, you seem to be clueless.
Because he’s almost stumbling on his words at the sight of you, soft fabric flowing seamlessly over your tan skin, cutting off above your knees leaving him with thoughts that he should not be having in a public space.
But at the same time, he tries to convince himself it’s nothing but a wholesome coincidental friendship. Even though if at any point tabloids get a hold of this, it will be very very far from that.
You’re watching as he looks a little caught up in thought, and you chuckle at it.
The sweet noise breaks him out of it, and he’s grateful for that. It was a rabbit hole he was happy to just not go down right now.
“Can’t help it,” he shrugs, going over to his own seat.
“Now, i need the full story of what happened with your friends luggage at the Singapore airport?”
You let out a laugh, a little surprised he even remembers to bring it up. You had been texting about travel, and told him the time your friend had her luggage lost in a layover between Singapore and London last month.
“I mean, where did it leave it off?” You had explained a partial amount of the story. But told him, if you’d planned another cafe trip it would be a lot easier to explain the ins and outs.
And he was overly excited to watch you tell the tale. Watch the way your hands moved as you animatedly told the story, and the way your eyes get a little lost in thought.
He caught tiny glimpses of it the first time you’d met, but he craved to watch it happen in full. Among other things.
You told him how you’d had 12 hour layover, but that you guys didn’t want to book a hotel since they were so expensive. But you were still meant to collect your luggage— and everyone else but your friend Bonnie got it back.
“She’s Scottish, crazy red hair and she is like a fire cracker. She was actually at the last show, in the front with us, but anyway— so she’s running around Singapore airport accosting all the staff with her stressed out and angry Scottish accent.”
You went back and forth with the many fuck arounds of that day, how you went from halfway across the airport to a misplaced baggage unit per a staffs advice, only for the lady at the front desk to say it wasn’t there— and to go back to the support centre.
“It was not funny at the time,” you said, “but fuck, looking back now it’s pretty good. And it makes a fun story to tell.”
“So where did she actually get her stuff back?” He asks, frowning with a curious smile.
“Oh, like 6 hours after we originally got off the plan. They’d told us to wait up at that little customer support place and after like another hour and a half, some really frazzled guy came running up with it.”
And you laughed at the image in your head, sweaty and looked terrified he’d gotten the wrong bag, “We asked where it had gotten lost, but he just asked if it was certainly ours, then when we said yes he nodded and practically ran the other way.”
Harry was smiling so hard his cheeks hurt.
“God, is that quite a story.”
“See why I said texting it would have been way too hard.” You amend, reaching for the deserted cup of tea you hadn’t even drank out of yet, taking a sip.
Exactly how you like it, and you smile. Watching him watch you drink it.
“Just how you like it, yea?” He asks to confirm. But also lost a little in the way the liquid seamlessly travels from the cup down your throat.
“Yea, perfect.” You nod, clutching the warm cup between your hands, tongue swiping out over your lips.
“Anyways, what about your own crazy travel stories. Since you’ve done plenty of it.” You prompt, unaware of his remaining gaze.
The afternoon went of just like that. Telling stories and sharing funny little anecdotes that had you laughing so hard that tears were about to spill from your waterline.
You slowly forget that it’s Harry Styles you’re sitting with. And of course that sounds weird. But it’s like there came a certain point in the afternoon where he just became simply Harry.
Nothing more, nothing less.
It had been a rather long time you sat in that same cafe with him. So much that the chairs, originally very comfortable, had started to become the opposite as time flew on.
“Are these chairs starting to hurt your ass too?” He asks, humour lacing his tone as he watches you adjust yourself in the chair for the third time in the last 10 minutes.
“Yea, the metal seats are lowkey not it.” At this he laughs, the way you word things somehow being more entertaining than most.
“Well, cmon, I already paid, we can go for a walk if you want?” He rises from his place, and you’ve never stood up quicker.
“Braving the Italian sun at its very brightest are we?” You joke, smiling as he grabs his bag and slings it over one of his broad shoulders.
“Could be a big regret, could also be very scenic.” He says as you grab both your empty cups.
“I forgot to put sunscreen on as well, so might have a different colour forehead to the rest of my body but… oh well.” he shurgs, following you over to the small bin by the cafe door.
You’re immediately thinking of the time he went to a show after going out golfing and he had a sunburnt head.
“Wouldn’t be the first time.” And it takes you by surprise that the teasing words made it out of your mouth.
Yet, he seems happily indifferent to it, like it’s of course something you’d know, “Whatever you.”
Your laughing at his response as you hold the door open for him, exiting the cafe into the heat.
A tortured sigh is let out of you both at the swelter of it. The concrete pavement doing nothing but intensify it.
“I underestimate the weather every day here, I’m wearing too many layers of clothing to be dealing with this.”
“Take your hoodie off you dolt.”
He usually keeps layers on so that his tattoos are less visible. Since they’re often a dead giveaway of who he is. So his hands hesitates as they slip to the hem of his jumper.
“Don’t tell me you went out with just a jumper on, no other layers. In Italy?” You shake your head, still smiling as you slowly walk into the shaded part of the sidewalk.
“No— I did.” He laughs, “just m’tattoos usually garner some attention.”
He clarifies, “that sounded really egotistical, not the tattoos themselves, I meant people recognise me easier when they’re out.”
“Oh!” You stumble a little in your thought process. Feeling a little silly for not realising.
“I kind of like… forgot?” You say, coming to a stop as he eventually succumbs to the heat and peels the jumper over his head. Folding it up and popping it into his bag, glancing at you with a tiny breathe of relief at his new found ventilation. Hands moving to tousle with his hair in attempt to flatten it after pulling the jumper over it.
“I mean, i did. too honestly.” He agrees, continuing to walk forward.
You read into that a million different ways. But he makes sure you don’t get confused, “Y/N, don’t look so worried. I just mean you’re a very easy person to get… i dunno, lost in.”
Oh okay? How does one just casually continue putting one foot in front of the other after someone says something like that?
“You flatter me too much.” You roll your eyes, still as awful as ever at masking your shock or adoration for something someone’s said.
“Cmon, you’re just too humble i think.” He bumps you with his shoulder.
You’re laughing at him. But stop dead in your tracks as you stop something across the road.
“H.” You say, and he also comes to a halt. Taking a moment to process your use of his nickname. Like the way it so gently came from you.
Yet you sound almost dire, so he’s looking over where you are, scanning the sunny street for something that could possibly concern you?
For a moment he thinks it may be paparazzi, but this side of town is usually much better in regards to that.
He feels protective of you, “What? Are you okay?”
“There’s ice cream over there.” You say, hand coming up to cover your mouth a little.
A breath of relief fills his lungs, “i— you made it out like this was a life or death situation about t’unfold.”
Your expression turns to a grin, “no, i just love Italian ice creameries!”
“Can we please go and get some?” You glance back to him, and his own smile widens at your face. Gleaming with this unfiltered excitement over something so simplistic.
“Of course we can.” And you’re immediately grabbing his wrist to tug him across the road towards the shop.
“As if I could say no to you, anyway.” He laughs as he keeps up with your quick pace, clearly on a mission.
Once inside the store, with its pink and mint coloured walls and decor, you move to look at the collection of flavours.
The staples such as vanilla and strawberry, but then a small selection of more slightly diverse ones, like peanut butter brownie or salted caramel.
Their cookie dough ice cream looks amazing though, filled with chocolatey chunks of cookie. So you decide relatively fast that’s what you want.
And then you turn to Harry, whose eyes are still darting between flavours indecisively.
“What one do you want?” You ask, and he adverts his eyes to you.
“No I’ll order.” He shakes his head.
“No-no. Let me get this for you, please.” He goes to protest and you nudge him with your elbow, “don’t be stubborn. I want to get you something.”
“I— fine. But know you’re just as pushy as i am.” He scoffs with a laugh.
“I’ll get… maybe chocolate?” He points to it, and you nod.
The older lady at the counter is overly lovely, and you’re rattling off your order to her with a beaming smile.
Harry watches your interaction with her, and how you take a moment to compliment the heart covered apron she was wearing.
His heart trips over it’s own rhythm at the sight.
You pays and he still feels a little guilty, but figures he can make it up to you next time they go out by getting you a cookie or two with your tea.
You come back to his side with the two cones, stacked two scoops tall, and hand one to him.
“Thank you, you didn’t have to though.”
“It’s fine, Harry. Do you wanna find somewhere outside to sit?” You ask, turning to wave at the lady who served you as your slowly exiting the shop.
“Sure, i saw that little bench under a tree a couple shops down near that park.” He nods, taking his turn to lead the way there.
You shortly find the way there, sitting yourselves down on it, looking out onto a small playground with some kids swinging on monkey bars and sliding down the slide.
“Italian ice cream will forever be the best kind of ice cream.” You sigh out with pleasure, licking over the cool scoop.
He unwittingly is blushing at the sight, suddenly batting away mental images at the sight of your pink tongue jutting out of your mouth.
Shaking his head, he pushes them aside. “Definitely. You can tell it’s handmade.”
He busies his own tongue on his own ice cream, only stealing occasional glances to you at his side.
But he can’t help but tilt his cone to you, “Wanna try the chocolate?”
His offer comes as the equivalent of a brick to the head, but you’re invested in making yourself not seem psychotic.
So you nod nonchalantly, “i will, but I have a feeling that’s just because you want some of mine.”
“Mm, maybe I do a little.” He agrees, but any other coherent thought dies where it was in his head at you leaning over to his own cone. Your tongue running over the ice cream, collecting up its sweet residue.
You nod, “That’s so good.” Acting like you’ve got a normal internal monologue right now. Even though she’s hurling things at you that you can’t all process in such a short flash of time.
You just put your mouth where his has been! He is about to do the same thing! His eyes look a little blown out! What the fuck!
Pretty much what it sounds like up there, along with some alarm bells and screaming.
However you just gesture your cone to him, taking mental images of him mirroring what you did just before.
He hums a sound of enjoyment as he pulls back, glancing up at you, pinning you with his green gaze. “Good choice.”
You agree with a slight mumble, shaking your head momentarily to clear your thoughts. Ready to change the subject so you can internally recollect yourself.
“I only regret sitting out here since it’s melting so fucking fast.”
“I know,” he also settles quickly back into the normality of the moment, “i cant eat it quicker than the rate it’s melting.”
“It’s cold though, which is at least a win.”
Conversation trails on as normal while you finish off the ice cream. Discussing if biting the bottom off an ice cream cone is normal or not.
And before you know it you check your phone when you get a text from your mum, asking what time you’re able to call tonight.
She misses you heaps, you can tell. But despite the timezone difference you are making it work.
You also glance up at the time and realise it’s nearing 4pm. And you have just spent majority of the afternoon with Harry.
You also realise you’d agreed to have dinner with all of your friends in one of their hotel rooms tonight.
“Seems like it’s my turn to have to be the one to bail.” You say, popping your phone in your back pocket and looking back at Harry.
“That’s okay, love, what’s the plans for the evening.”
You explain that you’ll go over the the girls hotel room and probably just eat pizza, and then go back to your own room and call your mum for a bit.
He feels a little sad you even have to leave, which is odd, but he nods anyway, “That sounds fun. Solid plan.”
You reluctantly rise from your seat next to him. “So…” you take a tiny breath in, “am I the one picking the next cafe we go to?”
He beams internally at the fact you’re also trying to plan the next time you’re able to meet up with each other.
“I reckon so, Angel.” He stands as well, “I’m good for any day.”
Any plans he has can be rearranged for you.
“Alright!” You feel better immediately knowing you can see him again soon.
“Thanks for the ice cream too, by the way.” He says, walking back over to the pathway with you.
“It’s okay.” You smile, nervously being the one to give him a goodbye hug. A small flutter erupts in your stomach as his hands pull you flush to him around your lower back.
“I’ll see you soon, mkay?”
“Yea. Ill talk to you later.” You remind yourself that he’s easily accessible to talk to. You literally have his number.
“Bye H.” You give him a squeeze, pulling away with a smile, “Bye Y/N.” And you wave as you start the walk back to your hotel. Plenty of things to think about.
———
“Did you guys see the supposed pics of harry today on harryflorals? He was hanging out with someone apparently!” Nina asks everyone.
Only two of you hadn’t, including yourself.
She passes the phone first to you, and you frown.
“I know, looks like it’s taken on a potato.” She says, assuming your furrowed brows are due to the fact the image is really hard to get anything from.
Unless you know that park bench he’s ‘allegedly’ sitting on. And that the blurry figure next to him is almost certainly you— but no one else can tell.
“Yea… shit that is…” You pause, brain freezing a little, “bad quality.”
You hand her phone back. But caption of the post still festering in your head long after the moment is over.
HARRY *SUPPOSEDLY* WITH A GIRL IN ITALY TODAY! but this is the only pic we got 💔
———
ahh and that’s part two! I hope you guys are enjoying this, and I’m so excited to write more about these two. cant wait for you to see what’s in store for them.
thank you again for your patience while waiting for this second part, and to all the lovely people who requested this oneshot to be made into something more.
taglist:
@harrystylesgirlie @purple9950 @teamspideyman @rociolunaa21 @spiritofbuddha @lemonhrry @deamus-liv @lquvlly @kuntxrgraudunkelbunt @hsfanficsrecss
+ all the anons who sent stuff to my submission box, thank you to you guys too, all my love
#harry styles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fluff#harry styles imagine#fanfiction#harry styles oneshot#harry styles x reader#harry styles smut#harry styles x you#harry styles x y/n#famous!harry#fangirl! y/n#welcome to the final show#series#harry styles series#strangers to friends to lovers#fluff#harry styles writing#hes so perfect#italyrry
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idk if you do drabble requests but I love your writing so much! you really have a way with words so i was wondering if maybe you'd do a drabble about new!idol fem reader (can be solo or group w/e) who really looks up to and admires BTS and they meet her before watching her perform for the first time? also maybe there's some flirting? (idc which members I'm ot7) just one of my lil day dreams I wanna get out there 🥺 anyway! keep writing, you're genuinely really good 🫶🏻
I do now!! This sounded too cute to pass up 💕
Title: "Run."
Genre: drabble, one-shot, casual??? fluff??? idk how to describe this one lmao. I hope you enjoy!
Notes: y/s/n = "your stage name". Things that are underlined are links to the outfits described.
Your nerves had you literally shaking with anticipation as you waited behind the scenes of the show. So many incredible talents were performing today and here you were, an unknown newbie who was about to take the stage in front of a live audience. Why did they even want you to debut at this big of an event in the first place? Your manager reassured you it was because they believed in your talent and knew that taking a chance on you and letting your first performance be somewhere as prestigious as this would draw in fans, who would appreciate the unique sound you bring to the table. In particular, if the responses of other idols who are more famous and well-known were captured on camera and shared with their fanbase through broadcasts or similar media channels.
The way they styled you had you feeling nervous as well, with a form-fitting pink mini skirt that hugged your curves and a white button up top that was tucked in with a black and pink tie, adding a touch of elegance to your look. The cropped black blazer and black gogo boots with heels made you feel like you were going to fall at any moment, but the white leather garter with a chain on one of your thighs added a bold touch to your outfit. You felt a little exposed but you took a moment to be silently appreciative of the safety shorts you wore beneath your skirt.
You had always dreamed of being part of a group, working together towards a common goal. That's why you were initially brought on as a trainee for the company in the first place. However, after careful consideration and evaluation of your skills and strengths, it was ultimately decided that your talents would be best utilized flying solo. But you deeply wished you had people to lean on, members who could offer support and distract from your potential mistakes. You tugged at your skirt awkwardly as you stood around waiting for your time to perform. You still had nearly 30 minutes but you were too nervous to sit, instead you opted for watching the screen positioned on the wall, showing the current performers on stage.
You smiled at the screen at the talent being shown. BTS. You had a deep admiration for the group and enjoyed watching them perform their song DNA. The members exuded confidence and comfort on stage, making it seem like they never worried about mistakes at this point in their career. You watched as they moved fluidly across the stage, perfectly in sync with one another.
A close up of Jimin had you grinning like an idiot. God he was pretty. Fuck, they all were. Hoseok with his vibrant smile, Namjoon with his unique features and buff build, Yoongi and his piercing eyes, Taehyung sporting the flirtiest looks you had ever seen, Jungkook somehow looking both innocent and dangerously delicious, and Jin with his world wide handsome face. And even more than their looks, they were so incredibly talented and hardworking.
You had heard the detailed story of how they rose to the top, overcoming numerous challenges and obstacles along the way. Their journey was filled with both good and bad experiences, but through it all, they showed great dedication and strength. And here you were, you hadn't even had your first performance yet and you had been ready to give up multiple times just during your 4 years of being a trainee. Working for the same label as the musicians who inspired you to pursue music in the first place left you feeling both grateful and slightly out of place, as if you hadn't earned your spot there yet.
You completely dismissed those thoughts and made your way towards the snack and beverage area, specifically designated for idols and staff members. You were in dire need of water and something sweet to give you an energy boost. As the boys finished their performance, the booming cheers from the crowd echoed through the air. You froze in surprise when you heard the seven of them laughing and panting out of breath as they entered the same room you were in. You attempted to seem nonchalant as they eagerly grabbed water bottles and snacks for themselves, while you discreetly tucked your hair behind your ear and reached for a water bottle too, all the while listening intently as Jungkook and Hoseok laughed uncontrollably about some unknown joke or incident.
In their fit of laughter Jungkook backed up into you, making you stumble back a bit. He whipped around suddenly "shit, sorry!" he apologized with a small bow. "Kookie you've gotta be more careful!" came a voice from behind you. The voice placed a hand on your shoulder. "You okay?" As you turned your head, you caught sight of Jimin with a gentle smile on his face. You quickly nodded in response, your eyes wide, causing him to let out a soft chuckle. "Hey! We making new friends?" Came Hoseok's voice as he reached his hand out to you. "I'm Hoseok. Or Hobi, J-Hope, whatever's fine." he said. His signature smile was contagious, spreading warmth to the pit of your stomach as he spoke. You took his hand lightly, stifling a giggle. "I uh, I know who you are. I'm y/n. Or y/s/n. Whatever's fine." You mimicked with a warm smile. He laughed. "Nice to meet you, y/n!" His hand was warm, and making your head swim, prompting you to let go.
"Wait, y/s/n?" Yoongi asked, stepping into the conversation. "The new girl? You're debuting today, right?" As you glanced in his direction, your nervousness was evident in the rapid nodding of your head. "Mhmm! In uh.." you checked the time on your phone. "shit.. 15 minutes actually." You said, taking a shaky breath in. "Nervous?" came Taehyung's voice from behind Yoongi.
You were now the center of attention for the seven boys, who were anxiously anticipating your next words. "Incredibly so.." you replied, making them all smile at you. "Hey I'm sure you're going to do great!" Namjoon chimed in "yeah, you're going to sound amazing!" Said Jin. They all nodded as you laughed
"you guys have never even heard me sing, how would you know?" You asked with a playful lilt in your voice. "Well, you're beautiful, so I'm sure your voice matches." God. Jimin was just as flirty as people described him, with a playful smile and a wink that could light up the room. You rolled your eyes with a laugh. "Smooth, pretty boy." You chuckled out, making him smirk. Jungkook looked you up and down for a moment "Your outfit looks great, your stylists did an amazing job." You took a moment to examine your outfit, making sure every piece was in its place and smoothing out any wrinkles on your skirt.
"Thanks, I actually had to beg them to add black into the theme. They originally wanted me in all pink and white and that's just... really not my vibe." This had Hoseok raising a brow. "What's not your vibe? ...sweet and innocent?" He asked with a smirk and the tilt of his head.
For just an instant, your eyes flickered with something that looked almost like mischief before settling back into their usual serenity; however fleeting this transformation may have been, its impact left ripples. Luckily you were saved by staff running up to you. "Y/n you have 10 minutes! Please come get your hair and makeup touched up!" The girl sounded almost panicked. You gave her a sweet smile. "Be right there!" You said, putting your sweet and shy persona back on. "I should run. Thanks for the pep talk, boys!" you said with a small bow. "You got this!" Namjoon said as you turned to leave. Jin's voice stopped you "would it make you more or less nervous if we said we'll be watching?" You paused for a moment in thought. "Hmm, well, I think I'd be more motivated not to fall on my ass if I knew THE Bangtan was watching my every move." This made them smirk. "We'll have our eyes glued to you then." Hoseok said with a subtle wink, his voice low. "You better." You replied amorously as you walked away.
With you fully out of earshot now, the boys spoke. "she's cute as hell." Jungkook said. "Hm, she acts cute, but I think she's a little darker than that." Hoseok laughed. "Her and Jimin have the same vibes" Taehyung said playfully. "Oh, so I'm cute AND sexy? Thanks Taetae." Jimin retorted playfully, making the man roll his eyes. "Alright guys keep it in your pants." Yoongi commented. "Right, let's just go watch her performance like we promised, yeah?" Namjoon stated as they headed towards the changing room to switch outfits before returning to the audience.
As you stepped onto the stage, your nerves seemed to vanish into thin air as you effortlessly slipped into your performance persona. The song you performed was sultry, sassy, and sensual. Your manager referred to it as 'the triple S.' You found that you fell into the role easier than you thought you would since you discovered that with how bright the stage's colorful lights were, you could barely even see the crowd, but you could feel their energy and passion.
As your performance was coming to a close, one of your backup dancers suddenly fell near your feet. Despite knowing you needed to continue with the choreography, it felt wrong to simply step around her and ignore her situation. So, you decided to help her up while still singing and dancing, offering a reassuring smile and squeezing her hand gently when she looked panicked. She quickly fell back into the routine and the rest of the performance went on without another issue.
As soon as you left the stage, you were immediately ushered off to change into more appropriate clothing for sitting in the audience with the other idols who either weren't performing or had already finished their performances. A simple long black dress with two high slits on either side, though you still wore a leather garter with a chain, this time in black though. Your seat was just a row behind the bts boys, you gave a small bow and a smile as you passed them. Once you sat down, Hoseok, Jimin, and Jungkook all turned around to give you a thumbs up or small claps, telling you that you had done a good job. Despite your best efforts you couldn't fight the bright smile that took over your features.
No more than 2 hours later you were at the after party being reprimanded by your manager for stopping mid performance to help your backup dancer. "You know you're supposed to keep going in instances like that!" She barked out. "I technically did keep going! I wasn't just going to ignore her while she was struggling!" You spat back with an eye roll, arms crossed over your chest. She let out a deep sigh, her shoulders sagging in resignation.
However, before she could continue with whatever she was going to say, you abruptly turned and started walking away from her. Unfortunately for you though, your hasty retreat led you straight into the path of an oncoming person - or more specifically, their chest - resulting in a jarring impact that sent you stumbling backward several steps. "fuck! I mean, augh... sorry!" you bowed. "We're just always bumping into each other, huh? Now we're even." you looked up to see Jungkook with a couple of the boys not far behind. You let out a small laugh "I guess we are." as Hoseok walked up, he peeked around you for a moment, eyeing your manager as she huffed and stomped away.
"You get in trouble for something?" he asked. You nodded with another eye roll. "She's upset that I stopped to help my backup dancer when she fell." His eyebrows furrowed "she's mad at you for being a kind a decent human being?" You smiled "that's one way to put it I suppose." you replied. Jimin, hearing the conversation being had, pouted "I thought it made you look cool and likeable!" he said with a tilt of his head. You anxiously fiddled with your fingers, feeling a bit nervous. "Thanks guys, I appreciate it. I really hope it didn't ruin the performance." Hoseok shook his head. "Not at all! You were amazing up there!" Jungkook and Jimin nodded, agreeing. "Let me get you something to drink to get your mind off it, yeah?" He added. You smiled "sure, that'd be great."
As Jimin and Jungkook started mingling with the crowd, you and Hoseok headed towards the bar, located at the distant end of the room. The venue had arranged for an assortment of drinks to be served, and the bartender was busy filling orders.
He ordered you your drink of choice and something for himself as well. You two engaged in a casual conversation for nearly half an hour, exploring various topics and discovering shared interests such as music, movies, and hobbies. The ice in your second round of drinks had mostly melted, indicating they were nearing completion when he posed the question "you wanna get out of here?"
Halting your speech mid-sentence, you turned to face him with an inquiring gaze before your expression shifted into a sly grin that showed your true intentions. "Absolutely." You responded. He grinned widely as he grabbed your hand, his grip firm and confident, leading you towards the exit with purpose.
As you walked, he waved goodbye to his members, a gesture that seemed almost automatic. You spotted your manager heading towards you, her expression written in annoyance, causing your heart to race in anticipation. You gave Hoseok's hand a stern warning squeeze as your manager approached, making him raise an eyebrow at you in confusion. However, the mischievous grin spreading across your features told him everything he needed to know - you had no intention of being deterred by anyone.
"Run."
You said before pulling him into a dash towards the exit. You both burst into a fit of laughter as you rapidly made your way out of the building, the sound of your hurried footsteps on the hard floor growing fainter with each passing second until you were no longer in sight.
Tonight might be fun after all, you decided.
aaaa okay how was that? Thoughts? Critiques? Requests? Let me know what's up. Love you!! 🩷
#bts#bts fic#bts drabble#bts x reader#bts x you#ot7#ot7 x reader#bunbunworks#bangtan#hoseok x reader#hobi x reader#jhope x reader
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i’m so disgustingly obsessed with dbf!bucky sexting r in a room full of people 😵💫
and i’m also disgustingly obsessed with the idea of momsbestfriend!nat being as equally easy to rile up
Oooooh okay and have you considered that they’re maybe both friends of your parents and they read the same messages? 😵💫
Like maybe it’s some sort of dinner party and you’re texting Bucky some absolutely filthy shit
‘I wish you’d tie me up’. You text him, knowing that his phone is face down on the kitchen counter. ‘I want you to take me up stairs to my room and use the handcuffs in the drawer on me.’
He hasn’t looked at his phone in a good few minutes, fully engrossed in the conversation he’s having with Natasha and some of his other college friends.
‘I want you to lick me while I’m tied down. Every inch of me.’ You keep going, forcing yourself to stay as calm as possible at the thought.
‘I want to feel your tongue flexing inside me. I want to feel you desperate to fuck me but holding yourself back because you know you have all night.’
The messages make the phone buzz on the countertop but no one notices.
‘I want you to finger me until I cry. You know just how far to take it. So it feels incredible but too much at the same time.’ You cross your thighs to stifle the throb between your legs, imagining three of his long, beautiful fingers curling inside you.
‘I won’t be able to stop you with my hands tied down. When it’s too much, I’ll just have to keep taking it.’
You both have safe words in place and it’s lovely to imagine how much he could do before you’d even need to think of using it.
‘I need you. How about we go upstairs?’
You’ve let your own desire bubble over. This is more forward than you’d like to be but damn, you need it now.
If almost feels like slow motion. Natasha lifts the phone that’s been buzzing on the counter. No password, obviously.
A few seconds pass where confusion is evident on her face; clearly she hasn’t seen the Lock Screen picture she was expecting given that this isn’t her phone.
The confusion melts into a much firmer expression as she reads through the texts on the Lock Screen and dear God, you need her to stop.
She hadn’t expected to read her friends’ daughter texting their college friend like that but here you all are.
After a moment, she hands the phone back to Bucky, who reads all the messages for himself while she fires off a text to you from her own phone that turned out to be in her back pocket.
‘That’s cute sweetheart. How about we go test out those handcuffs instead? I don’t think Buck could give you what you’re looking for.’
#asks answered <3#becca writes spice#anon#dbf!bucky#dads best friend! Bucky#natasha x reader#my brain ran with this one today
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Heyyy this is my first time requesting something
Imagine gamergf! Sakura, who is always gaming and doesn’t gives attention to reader, so one day reader sneaks into sakura’s gaming room and kneels in front of her, kkura doesn’t even notices her presence until she feels how now her pussy is exposed, reader who starts to eat her out while she’s playing, begging reader to stop overstimulating her
cw: somnophilia, cnc (boundaries discussed beforehand ofc), bondage and overstimming (so begging!)
sakura was exhausted as fuck... originally just getting on her computer and playing geometry dash to pass the time but having it being quickly turned into an intense gaming session, as per usual, her eyes glued to the screen until like what.. two am at this point? btw doing allat while only wearing a tank top and panties because let her live anyways moving on
she just cannot for the life of her pass this godforsaken level and she's sick of it; being an incredibly competitive person, she couldn't bare backing down. she was gonna pass that level, even if it took the whole night.
you, on the other hand, have been trying to get her attention throughout the whole day. look, you loved your girlfriend, she was loving, caring, everything you could possibly want. but one thing you knew she wasn't good with; giving you attention whenever she was focused on something else. if you tried texting her, she wouldn't even see the notif. if you tried coming in her room and starting a conversation, she would give back short responses. it was difficult, if not impossible.
long story short, you were incredibly needy, and you were ready to do anything to get her to pay attention to you.
the discouraging words "attempt 1553" displaying on her screen as it lit up the dark room that she was in, her eyes fighting what felt like an invisible force that was desperately trying to close them shut. throwing her head back, she sighed exasperatedly, almost dozing off. a small break wouldn't hurt, she told herself.
yeah no, no matter how hard she tried fighting her own drowsiness, the chair was so comfy, she couldn't help but eventually give up and close her eyes. she was eepy, if you will.
and eep did she do!
what she didn't know, though, is that she was sooo incredibly tired that she didn't even notice you walking into her room and strapping her to her chair. poor bby was just sooo tired and unaware. :((
when she went to rub her eyes, she quickly realized that her hands were restrained, she noticed you under her desk and immediately looked lost, what were you doing there? suddenly, she felt the slight vibration in between her legs, already giving her sleepy brain somewhat of an idea "mmh.. love..? w-what are you doing—"
"i'm gonna untie one of your hands so you can play and win this level, okay? if you don't, i'm not letting you cum, as simple as that. also, i unplugged your headphones; i wanna make sure you won’t be lying when you'll say that you won."
"couldn't we have just— mmh— done this in bed..?" she asks, stumbling on her words as she tried to keep her eyes open.
you scoffed at her words, mocking her "do you really think i'd go to this length if you actually paid attention to me throughout the day? you seemed soo committed to passing this level, i can't just take that away from you, can i?"
she furrowed her eyebrows in guilt as she looked down at you, avoiding your gaze once her eyes started tearing up. was it the drowsiness, the sudden culpability she felt when she figured out why you were doing this, or the pleasure her clit was throbbing for?
she didn't know, she felt like she didn't know anything at that moment.
you took away the vibrator to pull down her only piece of lower clothing, her underwear. upon taking it off, you watched as the slick of her cunt stuck to the fabric of her panties, smirking at the sight. looking up at her and noticing her hard nipples through her thin tanktop. she was barely even awake and she was already this needy for you?
"slut." you spit out, making her whine in the process.
after untying one of her hands, the rest of the night turns into you pressing your favorite vibrator against her clit as you ate her out, hearing her desperate moans and cries of pleasure mixed with the, quite frankly, unserious geometry dash music coming from her speakers as she desperately tried winning. and whenever her noises got louder and her breathing got heavier? you simply took away all the sensation from her, denying her orgasm as you made her twitch with anticipation as she whined..
and the need to constantly remind her, "keep your eyes on the screen and hand on the keyboard, i'm not gonna keep repeating myself, sakura." whenever she pathetically begged you to let her cum, staring at you as tears fell from her eyes, she was just so desperate to cum :((
eventually, after like, 3 hours, she managed to pass the level. holding onto your promise, you untied her limbs and ate her out, licking all of her folds and sucking on her clit until she finished all over your tongue and lips, gripping your head and pushing you closer to her wet core. you were certain that your neighbors would have a word with you the next day the way she was screaming out your name, blabbering sleepy nonsense as she came undone under your touch :((
long story short, she slept incredibly well after you carried her to bed that night. <3
#anon asks#smut#anon#kpop gg#female reader#le sserafim smut#sakura miyawaki x female reader#sakura miyawaki#sakura smut#sakura le sserafim#sakura x female reader#sakura miyawaki smut
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Are you still writing about Edgar?
Yeah but I yassified him (he's evil now) (well, more evil)
tw: female reader, non - con, cockwarming, snuff (watching), threats, captivity, abuse, hinted murder (not reader), degradation
My Ko - fi <3
You shudder, leaning back against his hard shoulders. You can feel the hot sweat sticking to your skin and you want to scratch at your body in a desperate attempt to feel yourself clean and proper again - but this isn’t an option when you’re so stuffed you feel like your insides are going numb. Of course this doesn’t stop the killing machine taking the appearance of a man from pounding into you even harder, short staccato thrusts that leave you breathless. You’re starting to notice the pattern - he’s slow in the beginning while you still have energy to keep up and gets meaner and meaner, bullying his way into your cervix as you get tired and sloppy.
“Keep your eyes on the fucking screen.” Edgar hisses in your ear with one meaty fist wrapped around your throat tight like a leash. Your legs are spread as far as they can go without dislocating, and despite all his hushed threats that leave you gagging, you still want them intact at the end of the torture session. You blink through the thick tears glued to your eyelashes and make an effort to focus on what’s happening on the small black and white TV. There is a girl. She’s screaming. She’s bleeding. A big buff guy with a chainsaw is taunting her - and you tell yourself it’s just a movie; it’s all fake. The blood, the cruel laughter, the scorching screams, the shivers they send down your spine. Such good actors, you think. Certainly better than you would be had you been in their shoes.
“That’s the best part.” The killer whispers down your ear as his hand tightens around your neck, cutting your air supply for a good few seconds - and while you’re choking on your own spit, you can feel his member throb inside you, wet with pre - cum. Suddenly your heart starts beating faster inside your chest as if trying to break out of your ribcage, and you make the mistake of looking up. Perhaps you’re looking for some type of human warmth, for a smile, a reassuring glare, a dimple or even an automatic twitch of approval at the corner of his lips - but all you’re met with is the same old black porcelain mask along with a pair of cold dead eyes staring back at you, completely empty. Devoid of anything, but sadistic animal pleasure at your expense.
“You’re not fucking looking, slut.” The man growls, agitated, reaching to slap you across the face. It stings, but you barely feel it, too overwhelmed to care about pain at this point. But eventually his deep, domineering voice registers in your head and you obey automatically, turning your head back at the screen. “That’s a good girl.” He coos at you, but such gentle words sound unnatural coming from him - he twists them. He fucks with them and messes them up, making a mockery out of the sweetness, manipulating intimacy in the way he knows would hurt the most, so when he hits you again, you can actually feel it.
On the tape you can make out certain blurry moments - there is a rather artistic close - up of the woman’s eye being torn out, making her chapstick - red lips curl up in an almost theatrical fashion, and if you didn’t know the creator of the film yourself, you would have fully believed it was just an overdramatic slasher movie meant to scare over - curious teenagers, locked in their mom’s basement. You can recall a long forgotten essay you had just started way before you were stolen away never to be seen again, about the objectifying sexual gaze in old horror flicks. You want to laugh, because it’s funny - but you don’t, because it’s also incredibly fucking sad.
In the next moment his left hand is entangled into your shaggy, loosened locks, pulling at your scalp, and you moan, even when you know that to Edgar pain and pleasure mean all the same, look the same, sound the same - so how could he ever make out a difference? So you don’t blame him when he sinks his teeth into your throat and pumps himself inside you, bouncing your body up and down on his cock just like a toy, only slightly more human than a fleshlight. You can feel yourself growing wet and you look down just to make sure you’re still capable of such devine human feeling, but it’s yet another trap.
It’s his fingers. They’re long and bloody, curling up inside your tight slippery hole. You hold back the sigh of relief, because it’s obviously not your blood - yet your eyebrows narrow. You can’t help but wonder who was the miserable fucker who died for you to not have a painful dry fuck for the first time in weeks, but you don’t let yourself dwell on the topic, because you’d rather die than let your captor see you cry for the second time.
“K-keep looking.” The murderer groans, short of breath, growing soft inside you - but of course he doesn’t pull out or even move away like the sadistic fuck he is. You’re not sure if he’s looking at you looking at the woman with her head decapitated and the knife sticking out her naked chest, or if he’s just blissed out and dissociating into space. Edgar pulls on his sweaty white shirt, and the only evidence of his humanity left - his lust, manifests as redness on his neck and white stars in his empty eyes.
“You just twitched.” He purrs with a certain boyish giddiness to his usually husky voice, letting his hands grope at your open trembling thighs, caressing the old healed scars on your battered skin. “It’s because I’m fucking scared–” You try to argue, but the panic settles at the back of your throat like a massive, sticky lump of fear and you just can’t continue with whatever you wanted to say. Your voice is hoarse and tired anyways - why even try at this point? It always ends the same.
“That means you’re getting used to it.” Edgar grins, stroking his chin as if he is deep in thought. Then he laughs with that nasty little chuckle that you now associate with pink razors and pins, and sometimes needles. “You used to fucking piss yourself at those helloween movies for kids.” He kisses your neck, pulling you closer into a bear hug, and you wonder if he’s intentionally squeezing all your vital organs in. “Now you’re getting off to my old tapes like a fucking snuff bunny. I’m proud of you, baby.” His mask falls on the ground, revealing his face. It’s the same as usual - evil and bloody.
“Just don’t get too used to it, m’kay?” The killer smiles coldly, but his eyes remain just as lifeless as five seconds ago. He pinches your nose playfully, and your heart drops into your stomach. “Because soon enough you might just find yourself at the other end of it all.” He squints, his sides heating up with perverse excitement. “And I’d hate for you to make a boring actress.”
#yandere#yancore#male yandere#yandere smut#male yandere x reader#yandere oneshot#yandere male x reader#yandere x you#yandere oc#yandere oc x reader#tw non con
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