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#i could be completely wrong but this definitely would be a fitting title
ohmygodshesbi · 4 months
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so i noticed something about kit connors photo dump on insta
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*if* that is a script in wills hands, and season 3 will include volume 5
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does this episode title mean what i think it means?
———
*edit* i’ve been informed that this is actually the code name for the production of season 3, so i was wrong!
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yenqa · 3 months
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10 THINGS I HATE ABOUT YOU — TEASER
READ HERE!
in which...
you hate heeseung. you hate his snobby little voice, his stupid little glasses that are too big for him, his nosiness, and his ability to prove anything or anyone wrong easily. you hate hate hate the way you try to avoid him, but somehow he’s always around, and he can’t see how much you hate him. you swear nothing could make you like him, but after you get caught in a sticky situation with him playing your knight in shining armor, you realize that maybe he isn’t so bad after all.
pairing — heeseung x fem!reader
genre — one sided enemies to lovers, highschool au, he falls first she falls harder, oblivious x obvious, tutor x tutoree (kind of), childhood friends (ish because the whole one sided enemies thing) to lovers, long fic
wordcount — teaser is 1005! fic est. 9k-13k words (hopefully not too ambitious)
warnings — profanity, kissing (no suggestive stuff or nsfw), miscommunication, parties/underage drinking, name calling (bitch, whore, stuff like that), food
featuring — lia of itzy, miyeon of g-idle, hyung line of enhypen (sorry maknaes too many people), ocs : sooyun + teachers
disclaimer — i am not saying this is an accurate representation of these idols or trying to sexualize them at all. this just something i do for fun.
release date — hopefully by mid march?
taglist — open! send an ask or comment to be added!
yenqa — watched the movie on the plane and i was kind of obsessed… but this does not follow the movie plot, i just thought the title fit
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YOU WATCH AS THE SNOW FALLS SLOWLY TO THE GROUND
A blanket of white has got you and the guests at your house locked in for the night. You weren’t very happy with these strangers staying at your house for the night—In fact, you had just been completely shut down by your dad when you asked him to kick them out. It was obvious why he did that, but this definitely had to be your least favorite christmas out of the eight you had been through.
You snap out of your thoughts, continuing to eat whatever you had left on your plate, hesitating when you saw the amount of vegetables still left.
“Mom! I’m full.” You try to hide your plate from her, showing her instead a pout with a hand on your stomach. 
It didn’t work—obviously, so you were stuck at the table, a frown on your face as you forced in the greens. Across from you, a boy your age, who didn’t seem to mind, he almost looked like he was enjoying it.
That’s impossible though, no one likes vegetables. Maybe he was doing it so Santa would get him an extra special gift?
You grumble when he finishes his place, showcasing his plate that had been licked clean to his mom. He stared at you for a second looking down at your—full plate then looking back at his mom, she said “Great job Heeseung!”. He returns his plate to the table with a smile. 
Stabbing your fork back into your food, you stuff it into your face, hoping that you would enjoy it as much as Heeseung did. Again, it didn’t work, and the bitter taste returned to your mouth.
After what felt like hours of groaning and complaining, you had taken the last bite of your food, a proud smirk on your face when you made eye contact with the boy from earlier, who only smiled at you in return. 
Throwing away your plastic plate, you realized that now it was present time, and Santa just had to reward you for your good deeds.
Rushing over to the tree, you spot everyone gathered around the area, opening their presents. You run to your present, recognizing the wrapping paper from last year. Looking at your mom for approval, she nods and you tear apart the paper, lifting up the box inside.
You squeal when you see the picture, you had been begging your mom for weeks for a Lego set, specifically if it was minecraft themed. And Santa had gotten you just that. You hug the box, squeezing it. You exclaim a loud “Thank you Santa!” before running up to your room to assemble the build.
Reading the directions, you start the house, quickly getting confused on how it isn’t looking like how it does in the picture. 
“I think that’s the wrong piece.” A voice says, you whip your head around to see the same boy who sat across from you.
“Who are you?” Your eyebrows furrow at the sight, confused on why those were the first words he said instead of “Hi!” or something.
“My name’s Heeseung—Um, my mom told me to come upstairs and said we should be friends. Do you want to be friends?” 
You huff, “I’m Y/n. Also no, I don’t want to be friends, you’re mean.” You force your legos together, frustrated already with the pieces. You continue to reread the directions, pushing—what you think are—the exact legos to the board. But it doesn’t seem like it’ll fit. Maybe if you push it harder?
“Oh—okay.” You jump slightly, too focused to realize how he's been watching you for the past few minutes. “Do you need some help?”
Yes, you need help. But did you want to accept his help?  . This was your christmas gift from Santa, you shouldn’t have to share.
Glancing at the picture then to the building that had looked like an abstract rendition of it, you let out a sigh. I mean, it wouldn’t hurt, right? “Yeah, I guess.”
He takes a seat on the carpet next to you, focusing hard on the directions before breaking off the wrong pieces, reassembling it so you’ll be on the right track.
“Does this go here, do you think?” “No, it goes here.”  That was a summary of what the conversation was between you, and somehow you were always the one asking the question. Sighing, you lean back, taking a short stretch break before starting again.
You’re shocked at his speed and efficiency, it almost seems like he’s always a step ahead of you. Geez does this guy ever slow down? 
The roles are quickly switched as you are sitting watching him instead. Rummaging through each box only for his eyes to lighten up one he finds the right one. You watch him for a while, getting a break that you very much needed.
You hope that he waits for you to finish it, or that he doesn’t completely do it all by himself because again,  it’s your Christmas gift, and he wouldn’t do that, right?
Not right, because apparently he’s a machine—he finishes the build. He stands up, pushes his stupid glasses up also and smiles at you, heading to the door. You think he’s going to say something else like “Sorry for taking away your present!” instead, he thanks you for sharing and happily skipping away. 
Heeseung. Even his name infuriates you. He was very unpredictable and you hated that. Why did he just do that? He’s so rude. People don’t make sense—especially boys, they have cooties.
Your head was filled with calling him the rudest things you could think of—You even said a few curse words.
Though later you realized that you probably would never see him again, you were ecstatic, so ecstatic you had disassembled your legos just to rebuild it, to completely forget about your bad experience with the boy. 
Only two weeks later were you disappointed to see that same boy, sitting across from you during dinner once again.
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perm taglist — @jwnghyuns @ja4hyvn @trsrina @redm4ri @badmuni @yeokii @enhastolemyheart @softpia @s00buwu @ox1-lovesick @boyfhee @hanniluvi @teddywonss
yenqa © please do not copy, steal or translate.
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onlyhuis · 5 months
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love thy neighbor
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member — fwb! neighbor!joshua x f reader genre — smut, light angst, college au, idiots to lovers, happy ending word count — 5.1k synopsis — there's perks to having your fwb live next door to you, but there's also downsides. like the fact that it's really hard to hide that you're in love with him. warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, one mention of periods, masturbation (both reader & joshua), the smut is REALLY quick, premature ejaculation sort of, a little bit of body worship, nicknames (baby, good girl), not really described but implied creampie, they are idiots and they are in love and it's gross and sweet notes — tysm to @wongyuseokie & @onlymingyus for help choosing the banner <3 and thanks to @petrichor-han for this idea !! fun fact this was originally going to be for skz han but i figured it would also make a great shua fic so i chose him instead. fun fact #2 i am addicted to giving shua's fics religious titles even when there's no mention of religion in the fic at all lmao. it gives me a giggle like how could i not when it fits so well?? also this is one of my few attempts at angst so if you liked this please reblog or send and ask and lmk how you liked it! hope you enjoy!!
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joshua should be asleep right now. 
really, he should. it’s 11pm on a sunday night and he’s got his chemistry lab at 8am tomorrow, and he’s still got a couple of assignments that he really needs to catch up on before the final next week. 
but then there's that bump against the wall that he’s grown so accustomed to, and his eyes fly open.
maybe becoming fuck buddies with your next-door neighbor isn't the smartest idea he's ever had, because this is the fourth time this week he's had to hear your moans as he tries to fall asleep.
the walls are thin, but he's certain that you must not realize just how thin they are, because he can hear every sound you make as clear as day. every whimper, every buzz of your vibrator, even every moan of his name, barely muffled by the wall separating his room from yours. especially every moan of his name. and it’s been driving him insane.
really, it’s his own fault for trying to be a polite neighbor. he almost wishes that he hadn’t run into you when you’d moved into the apartment next door at the beginning of the semester, because then he probably wouldn’t have recognized you at that party during homecoming weekend and got to talking with you. 
and because of that he probably wouldn’t have taken you home from said party and given you the best dicking down of your life (your words, not his), and then after that you probably wouldn’t have decided that you wanted to keep fucking him and agreed to become friends with benefits.
except he doesn’t actually wish that at all.
having your situationship live right next door is pretty convenient, after all. you’ll shoot him an “omw” text and be waiting at his front door seconds later. he forgot to bring condoms? it’ll just take a sec to run home and grab some. when you accidentally leave your panties in his apartment, he can drop them off the same day and then forget about it (he definitely won’t). 
he could probably even just bang on his side of the wall and you’d know to come over, but to him that’s a little too far, too impolite. he at least has the decency to send a text first.
a part of him wonders if that’s why you’re so noisy at night, if you’re doing it on purpose and knowing he’ll hear it, secretly hoping for him to come knocking at your door. but he doesn’t want to assume, doesn’t want to show up without asking and realize he’s been completely wrong this whole time and make himself look like a fool.
so he settles for earplugs instead. because there’s no way he can sit there and listen to the sounds you make and not start thinking about all the times he’s been in your bed with you just inches away. and by the time he’s cum all over his fist and he’s finally worn himself out enough to fall asleep, it’s 4am and he has class in the morning and he’s wasted an entire night yet again.
he’s been inside your apartment dozens of times, enough to know the layout by heart. enough to know that your bedroom sits directly next to his, enough to know that your bed is pushed against that very thin wall the same way his is and that your nightstand with the drawer full of toys is right next to the bed.
oh, he’s gotten to know more than just your apartment over the course of the semester. he knows which positions are your favorite (you’ve never told him outright, but you always cum harder when he fucks you in missionary). he knows the names you like to be called and the ones you like to call him. he can even tell which vibrator you’re using right now (the red one doesn’t buzz as loud, so you only use it when your favorite purple one is dead. tonight you’re using the purple one.)
but he’s also gotten to know the way you smile when you see a cat video, the way your forehead wrinkles when you talk about your calculus professor, and the way you like your pancakes in the morning (though he’s never been able to make them for you himself, he swears one day he will. one slice of butter, a ton of syrup, and a handful of cut up strawberries.)
so maybe that’s what makes these nights so unbearable. he can keep lying to himself that it doesn’t bother him, that it wouldn’t bother him as much as it does if he just… didn’t like you. 
but, unfortunately, he does like you. and he’s stuck with this problem until he finds a way to fix it, but just like in the lab analyses he has to write every week, he’s got no ideas. so he’ll have to settle for fucking his hand and biting his pillow so you don’t get suspicious of the noises he’s making, and hope that his silly little crush goes away on its own. 
after all, he isn’t anything to you. albeit a sexual one, he’s still just a friend. and he’s certain that’s all you want.
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god, you wish that joshua could see you right now. you’re certain he’d love it.
earlier tonight you’d had to physically force yourself to turn your phone off so that you wouldn’t be tempted to text him to come over. you’d already texted him on monday night and thursday afternoon, and you’d knocked on his door on saturday at practically the crack of dawn because you’d woken up thinking about him.
were you embarrassed about it? absolutely, but that wasn’t enough to stop you. okay, maybe sometimes it was, because the girl who lived across the hall had caught you (on multiple occasions) sneaking out of joshua’s apartment twice in one day and you refused to meet him again for nearly a week after that.
but joshua didn’t seem one bit embarrassed by your arrangement. he always gave you a friendly smile and offered to walk you to your door afterwards, which you always declined, and he always made sure to say he looked forward to seeing you again. you even saw him wave at the nosy neighbor girl when he’d left your apartment once (which you only remembered because you’d spent the rest of the night in tears about it, but not that you were jealous about it or anything).
you felt bad enough meeting up with him so often, but you felt even worse that you didn’t even have a label to show for it. you knew it was probably exactly what he’d wanted out of this, just somebody to call for a quick fuck, but it made you mad. it was why you got so angry about the girl across the hall; because you knew everybody loved joshua, so of course he couldn’t love only you. 
he was hot and he was in a frat and he probably had a hundred girls he could call if he wanted to. with how often you text him to fuck, plus the other people he’s probably seeing? he’s gotta be exhausted.
which is why most nights you opt for touching yourself instead. in the months since you first met joshua, your vibrators have been going through batteries a lot faster than usual, a fact you’re not exactly proud of but will own up to nonetheless.
it’s not your fault that the image of him leaning over you, his thin gold chain dangling in your face as he fucks you is burned into your head practically 24 hours of the day. or the fact that his voice plays on repeat in your brain, specifically that one time he called you “baby” and you came so hard you nearly passed out. 
so really, it’s actually his fault that he’s constantly on your mind. his fault for being sexy… or your fault for falling for him?
either way, you find yourself yet again with your pussy stuffed full of your own fingers and your favorite purple vibrator on your clit (you remembered to charge it last night, after you came to the thought of joshua fucking you on your kitchen counter), wishing he could be there to see it.
you close your eyes and picture him in front of you, holding the vibrator against your clit as he grins down at you. such a good girl, he’d say, brushing his thumb over your nipple with his free hand. you love this, don’t you?
“fuck, yes, joshua,” you reply, gasping as you push your fingers deeper inside. you arch off the bed a little, pushing your head back against your pillow. you’ve learned that he loves it when you call him by his full name instead of “shua” or “josh”; you don’t know why, but it always seems to drive him crazy, and you never fail to leave his apartment sore in all the best places afterwards.
you spread your legs a little wider and moan, rolling your cheek to the side as you imagine him fucking you with his fingers instead of your own. i can tell you’re getting close, imaginary joshua says with a smirk, his hand cupped against your pussy as he thrusts his fingers in and out at a bruising pace.
“mhm,” you whimper, curling your fingers and trying to convince yourself that it feels as good as when he does it. “please, joshua—”
you turn your vibrator up to the highest setting, your hips canting into the air as you squeeze your eyes tighter shut. you can feel the waves beginning to wash over you and you repeat his name like a plea, chanting it over and over until you can’t form words anymore.
cum for me, baby, all over my fingers, he says, and your mouth falls open as you let go, your knee accidentally smacking against the wall as your legs shake with pleasure. you keep your vibrator held firmly against your clit until it sends you over the edge again, still riding the high of your first orgasm as you struggle to breathe through it. joshua loves to overstimulate you, until all you can do is weakly push at his hands and beg him to leave your exhausted cunt alone.
the post-orgasm clarity soon starts to hit and you’re left with the realization that you just got off from pretending your neighbor is just as in love with you as you are with him. absolutely pathetic. 
but your eyes are starting to droop and you’re quickly finding that you’re too tired to stay awake to think about how much of a loser you are, so you tuck your favorite vibrator back into its spot in your drawer and put your pajamas back on and tuck yourself into bed, trying not to wish joshua was there beside you instead of infinitely far away on the other side of the wall.
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when joshua wakes up the next morning, he half expects you to be waiting outside his door again.
of course anyone would be annoyed at being woken up by their neighbor before 7am, but then you’d sheepishly told him that you’d had the most insane wet dream about him and he’d been more than happy to let you come in and bounce yourself on his lap while he watched the early morning sunlight stream through his bedroom window onto your cheeks. 
pretty much the perfect morning, in his eyes, except for the fact that you hadn’t slept in his bed with him. you never sleep over and it’s obvious why, but maybe it’s for good reason: he won’t get so attached to you.
unfortunately, though, this morning you aren’t waiting for him, so he trudges to his kitchen to make himself one lonely cup of coffee and one lonely stack of frozen waffles and get ready for his day.
he’s started noticing patterns about when and why you text him, and he finds himself checking his phone all day. 
on mondays, because you have all your classes on those days and you’re already exhausted so why not get fucked within an inch of your life before you settle in for the night?
on thursdays, usually in the afternoons because both your schedules happen to line up where he’s just finished his work shift and you’re on your break between classes so it leaves the perfect amount of time for him to eat you out.
if you have a particularly hectic morning you’ll text him right away and ask him if he’d come over once you get home that night, and he’ll reply that he can’t wait with a big red heart emoji.
in fact, most of the times you want to see him is when you’re stressed or upset, which makes sense to him but at the same time makes him a little disappointed. he hopes that you’d want to see him on your happiest days, because any day he gets to see you is automatically his happiest day. but he supposes that’s where you’ve drawn the line, and he’ll have to be okay with that.
joshua’s restless through his chem lab this morning, and then his english lecture, and then his shift at work, not-so patiently awaiting you to ask him about his plans tonight.
but you don’t text him at all on monday, and you don’t text him on tuesday, either. he catches you going into your apartment at the same time he’s leaving on wednesday, and he waves as usual but you just give him a small nod and hurriedly close your door behind you. he’s almost positive you’ll text him on thursday, but your lunch hour comes and goes without a word.
he almost never texts you first, because you text him so often and most of the time he’s already thinking about you anyway. so when sunday rolls around again and he still hasn’t heard anything from you, he thinks maybe you’re waiting for him to say something first this time.
he knows you’ve been home, because he’s heard your friends coming and going. maybe you’ve just been busy with other things and didn’t mean to ghost him. sure, you get together pretty often, but that doesn’t mean it’ll happen every single week. plans change and that’s fine, and it is right before finals week after all. 
but even when you’re on your period and aren’t in the mood to see him, you usually send a text as a heads up, and he’s definitely not keeping track or anything but this week shouldn’t be one of them. he’s going through every possibility he can think of as to why you’ve seemingly disappeared, but he just can’t find a reason why.
but then he realizes something else; he’s stopped hearing you at night, too. and then he really starts to worry, because he remembers how upset you looked when he saw you in the hall and maybe something really awful happened to you and he’s been pouting in his room like a selfish idiot this whole time.
so he pulls up your contact, cursor blinking over the text box as he tries to figure out what to say.
hey, he decides on, and he’s surprised but happy when you read the message right away. 
he waits a moment, but you don’t respond, so he texts again. you can talk to me, you know? about other stuff. i’m your friend.
he shakes his head and deletes that last sentence before pressing send. you read it immediately again, but it’s a long and agonizing few minutes before you reply.
okay
he frowns, not knowing what to say back. did i do something and make you mad? you seem upset and i’m sorry.
it’s nothing. don’t worry
joshua wants to say, but i do worry, but he knows that might be too far and he’s still not even sure what’s wrong. 
so instead he stands up and walks out his front door, leaving his phone on his bed. he may be an idiot, but the least he can do is try to act like your friend.
you don’t answer when he knocks, so he calls your name. “i know you’re home, i can hear you through the wall.”
finally the lock clicks, and you open your door just a crack. “what do you mean, you can hear through the wall?”
he pauses. “i can hear you… walking around, and stuff. making noise. the walls are thin.” so you really didn’t know? oh god, now he feels like an asshole for listening, even if he was trying not to.
“oh. well.” you sigh and close your eyes, inhaling. “that’s embarrassing.”
“can we talk?” joshua asks, suddenly feeling exposed. he’s plenty comfortable in large groups of people, but when he’s around you he wants to hold you tight and keep you secret and safe, out of sight of any wandering eyes. standing out in the hallway where anyone could hear is not how he’d like this to go.
“sure,” you mumble, swinging your door open for him to come inside.
you close the door but don’t move from behind it, standing like you’re waiting for him to say something. so he does.
“listen. i know whatever this is, is messy,” he starts, gesturing between the two of you. “but you’re my friend, and i care about you and i want you to be happy.” he sighs. “so please tell me what’s wrong, because not texting you has been really weird, and if you want to end this then that’s fine and i’ll leave you alone, but don’t just ghost me. we’re still neighbors and i’m not a fan of awkward hallway conversations.”
you crack a smile for a second, but it quickly fades. “do you want to end this?”
“no, not really. but i don’t want you to feel like you have to keep doing this if you don’t like it.”
“i thought it was pretty obvious i did like it,” you say with an almost laugh. 
he stares at you quietly. “then what’s going on?”
“i want to keep doing this, but i just… i don’t think i can,” you say, avoiding his eyes. “at least not like this.”
“what do you mean, ‘like this’?”
“joshua, because i like you. and i feel awful because i know we’re not on the same page and it feels like i’m taking advantage of you because you probably have a dozen other women telling you the exact same thing and it’s probably exhausting and it’s not what you want!”
his face contorts in shock at your words. “well, first, that’s not at all true. and second of all, stop trying to guess what i want without just talking to me. what is it that you want?”
“you! i don’t know. i don’t know what i want anymore,” you say, covering your face with your hands. 
joshua’s not sure if he should hug you or not, but he really, really wants to. “is that all that’s been bothering you this week?” he asks softly.
“yeah,” you say, moving your hands but still avoiding his eyes. “it’s stupid. i know, and i’m sorry.”
he laughs, and you look up at him like he’s crazy. “you don’t have anything to be sorry for,” he says. “i’m sorry. because for months i’ve been wishing we could change this but i never said anything because this is what i thought you wanted.”
you keep staring at him, but he can’t read the emotion on your face. “so… what is this, then?”
“i’ll be whatever you want me to be for you. your fuck buddy, or your friend, or your boyfriend, whatever.”
“you really don’t see other people?” you ask, still unsure.
now it’s joshua’s turn to look at you like you’re crazy. “no, why would i want to? i don’t care if you do, but with how often you text me it sounds like you don’t, either.”
“i just figured— nevermind,” you sigh.
“can i give you a hug?” he asks after a minute. “we’ve been sleeping together the whole semester, and i don’t think i’ve ever given you a real, proper hug.”
you smile, and seeing that instantly makes his day. “yes, please.”
his arms feel secure around you, and his chest is warm against your cheek. with a sigh you close your eyes, breathing in the smell of his cologne that you’ve been trying to push out of your brain for weeks.
you stand there for a while, neither of you making any moves to pull away. it's been a really, really long week without joshua and you didn’t realize how badly you missed him until this moment.
“so about the walls thing—”
“hm?” he mumbles.
“—you can really hear everything?”
he laughs. “oh, yeah. your bedroom is right next to mine. been having trouble sleeping for so long because i kept hearing you moan my name and it got me hard every time.”
your cheeks burn in embarrassment. “joshua, i’m so sorry! if i had known—”
he shakes his head, cutting you off. “you can make it up to me by telling me everything you were thinking about.”
“probably nothing you don't already know,” you grin shyly.
“probably, but i wanna hear you say it anyway.”
you lean away from him a little bit, releasing your arms from around him to rest against his chest. “i should've known this is why you wanted to come over,” you say, pretending to be mad, but you can already feel the tingling feeling building up in your stomach at the thought.
“it's not,” he replies smoothly, “but i did miss waking up to you knocking on my door.”
you pout. “that was only that one time!”
“doesn't mean it has to be the last.”
heat creeps up into your cheeks and you glance away from him, gaze trained on his shoulder. 
“you really wanna know what i was thinking about?” you ask, finally building up the courage to look back up at his face.
“of course i do.” his eyes are sparkling as he watches you, and you can't exactly identify the emotion but you know it makes your heart flutter.
“well,” you start, “it was different every time, but most of the time it started like this.” you trail your hands down his torso, pausing when they reach his hips. he stays silent, eyes fixed on your movements and a little smile on his face that you don't think he even realizes he's doing.
“and then…” you look down, a little surprised to notice the bulge in his pants already there. you place your hand over him gently and look up, waiting for him to say something, but he doesn't stop you.
you clear your throat and start again. “and then, you'd sit on the couch and let me gag on your cock for a while.”
you start to push on his hips, backing him into your living room. he’s enjoying this way more than he should be, but then again, you basically just confessed your love to him so it’s kind of the best day of his life.
the back of his thighs hits the arm rest of your couch, but before you can move him any further his hands pull you flush against his body, his bulge pressing into your stomach. 
“how about we skip that part for another day?” he says, his voice low. “tell me what happens after.”
you try your best to hold back a moan, suddenly losing your ability to speak. you can practically feel his cock throbbing through his clothes and it makes it impossible to come up with a coherent sentence.
“don’t get shy on me now, baby,” he hums, hands still firmly gripping your hips, and if your brain hadn’t short-circuited already then it definitely has now. “been hearing you in your room for weeks, i know how loud you like to be.”
“that’s not fair,” you finally manage, still trying to collect your thoughts.
joshua leans forward to kiss your neck, gently at first but quickly growing harsher, and you’re sure he can feel your pulse jump every time his teeth graze your skin. 
“fuck, just like that,” you whimper, “exactly like that, shua—”
after a minute he hums and glances up at you through his lashes, clearly waiting for you to keep talking.
“we’d make out for a while, and then you—you’d fuck me on the floor,” you gasp out. joshua moans against your skin, and it’s only then that you realize your hands have found their way to his hair, tugging on it to urge him on.
your fingers loosen and he pulls away, the corners of his lips wet with saliva. “on the floor? you deserve better than that, baby,” he tsks. “can i take you to bed instead?”
“please,” you whine softly, suddenly feeling unbearably eager to fuck him. all week you’ve been using every last ounce of your energy to avoid thinking about joshua, but now that he’s here in front of you and way too willing to play into your fantasies, all the emotions you’ve been holding in are spilling out, and you don’t feel like containing them anymore.
you grab his hand and it’s like you can’t make it to your room fast enough, falling onto your bed and pulling him down on top of you. by then you’ve both forgotten the conversation you were having before because you’re too busy desperately pressing your lips against his, barely remembering to breathe as he kisses you and kisses you and kisses you and what were you even talking about again?
your brain is clouded when he finally pulls away with a gasp, kissing your cheek and your neck once more. his hands slip beneath your shirt and tug it over your head, making his way between your breasts and down your stomach and leaving more kisses as he goes. your skin burns with each touch, gentle lips and not-so-gentle hands covering every inch of you until you feel like your whole body is on fire.
he sits up just long enough to pull his own shirt off and now it’s your turn to touch, your hands instantly finding his chest as you trace your fingertips down his abs.
“how do you want me?” joshua groans, his hands joining yours at his hips to help him push his pants to the ground.
“fuck… missionary? just like this?” you say as you kick your pants and panties off in a rush, wrapping your legs around his waist.
his cock brushes against your stomach and you sigh out a moan, your hands moving up to grab at his biceps. he doesn’t say another word as he runs his tip through your folds, his attention fixated on your pussy and how you’re already dripping for him. for a second he forgets where he is and what he’s doing, so engrossed with the sight of you and how fucking glad he is that he didn’t lose you because you’re both idiots that assume too much about what the other wants instead of communicating your feelings like normal adults.
you let out a little noise and his eyes flick back up to your face, his gaze immediately softening at the blissful expression on your face. to think, he could’ve been seeing you like this the whole time if he had the balls to admit how he felt sooner. but there’s plenty of time for him to pout about it later because right now you need him, and he needs you, too, so why waste time thinking about that when he can think about how good you look taking his cock?
he leans down because he can’t resist kissing your beautiful face one more time, and finally he pushes into you, letting out a loud whine at the same time you moan his name. the sound of your voices joined together goes straight to his dick as he pulls almost all the way out, thrusting back into you with renewed energy.
“baby— fuck,” he groans, his grip on your body tightening as his thrusts begin to grow faster and rougher. “so good to me.”
you clench hard around him at the nickname, clinging onto him as you squeeze your eyes shut.
and then without warning everything hits you all at once, and you go boneless in his arms as he whimpers and groans and gasps and holds you tight and he probably told you he loves you about a million times as he was cumming too but you can’t hear anything as you lay exhausted on the bed, staring up at the ceiling with your ears ringing.
even with his shaking hands you can still feel the gentleness in joshua’s touch as you start to come back down, the warmth of his breath on your cheek as his fingers lightly brush your hair out of your face, feeling him twitch inside you before he slowly pulls out. 
with his own orgasm following just barely after yours that was probably some kind of record for the fastest round ever, but you don’t even have the strength to care. so what if he usually fucks you for hours on end? all you care about is the fact that he’s tracing your collarbones with a fucked-out little smile on his face and it’s probably the cutest thing you’ve ever seen in your entire life.
with a soft grunt he stands up, and you call out his name with all the energy you have left.
“joshua?”
“mhm?”
“can you stay?” you ask, and somehow you both know you’re talking about more than just for the next few minutes.
he smiles. “wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else.” and when he comes back with a towel and a wet wipe and apologizes for how fast it all was and promises to give you more whenever you want because he’s officially yours now, you know he’s telling the truth.
even when he’s doing nothing at all, joshua never fails to make your head spin. 
laying in the dark with you, his fingers absentmindedly twirling your hair as you snuggle into his chest, you can’t even begin to find the words to explain how good it feels knowing he loves you and you love him back. 
but it doesn’t seem like he needs words right now. all he needs is you.
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readerthatreadsss · 7 months
Text
Worth The Wait | Steven Grant
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(Inspired by the song of the same title by Kali Uchis)
Pairing: Steven Grant x fem!reader
Word Count: 6.2k
Summary: You and Steven have been roommates for a while now. But one night after being stood up by yet another guy in a string of dates gone wrong, Steven offers you some support...which sparks an interesting chain of events.
Warnings[18+ activities MDNI]: sub! (ish) Steven, dom! (ish) reader, fools in love, friends/roommates to lovers, mentions of drunk reader (but not drunk when they actually have sex, you'll see), crying (reader's drunk and starts venting for a bit, that's all), unprotected p in v sex (cloak the joker before you poke her), oral sex (steven and r receiving), Steven doubting himself mid-sex, assertive reader and awkward Steven! , choking (r receiving), riding, creampie, barely edited cause I'm really fuckin tired.
A/N: Hi. Don't ask me where I found the time or motivation to write this shit when school started back a month ago. The idea just popped into my head and my fingers didn't stop moving once I opened a draft. Note, I have a tall fem! reader x Steven in my drafts to finish so don't think I forgot!
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"Steeeeven," knock knock knock, "STEVENNNN," knock knock knock−
Steven's brows furrowed beneath his reading glasses at the sound of your voice coming from outside your shared apartment door. Concern as well as confusion sprang through him instantly. You sounded drunk. Which he was sure to be the case seeing as you were sloppily knocking at the door rather than opening it with your keys.
He quickly shut the book he was reading and removed his glasses before making his way over to the door in fear that your next call of his name would wake the entire building.
Unfortunately, he opened the door at the very moment you launched your hand forward to knock once more. This caused you to tumble through the door with a drunken yelp. But Steven caught you in his arms before your body could hit the ground.
You looked up at him with a lazy smile and hooded eyes. "Thanks, Stevie bear," you hiccuped, using both hands to cling onto one of his very defined biceps. You had never realized how big and firm they were before that moment.
"You're welcome," Steven replied worriedly. He swiftly shut the door with his foot and used your grip on his arm to bring you standing back on your feet. "Y/n what the bloody hell happened to your date?"
You rolled your eyes at his question, kicking off your heels and making your way over to the couch without somehow falling again. "See now, Steven," you paused and pointed at him drunkenly, "it can't be a date if the said date doesn't even bother to show up!" you explained.
Steven sighed deeply at your explanation as he sat on the other end of the couch. This wasn't the first time this had happened to you—or him for that matter—but he could never understand why. You were easily one of the most beautiful women in London, and definitely one of the smartest, (your framed Ph.D. in psychology hanging over the television was evidence of that). You were the full package and more. Any man would be lucky to have you.
But the men of London were clearly morons if they kept standing you up or acting like complete knobs to you on your dates.
He would never do that to you. But he's seen photos of your past dates. A woman like you was way out of his league and would never go for someone like him, anyone with eyes could see that.
"How much have you had to drink?" Steven suddenly asked you.
You raised 3 fingers to the best of your ability. "Six," you answered before bursting into a fit of giggles at Steven's expression.
"Gosh, y/n, you're absolutely clobbered," he grabbed a blanket from the arm of the couch and spread it over where your short skin-tight dress was riding up your thighs.
"Well I didn't lie," you sat up abruptly, throwing the blanket off your lap and turning to face Steven and sit as crosslegged as your dress would allow, "Three of the drinks were margaritas...the other three were shots of vodka though," you admitted softly as if it were some secret for only yours and Steven's ears.
"Do you have work in the morning?" Steven questioned gently, picking up the blanket and handing it back to you. Your dress was riding up with every slight movement you made, which meant more of your thighs being exposed to him. Despite this, Steven wouldn't dare look anywhere except your eyes.
"Nope." You threw the blanket back on the floor. The night was pretty warm, you don't understand why Steven keeps giving it to you.
"Do you want me to make you some coffee or tea?"
"Yup."
Steven looked at you in question for a few seconds. "Which one?" he prodded, fighting back a smile at your muddled state.
You moved closer and narrowed your eyes, "Which one of what?" you questioned, truly confused, before breaking out into another fit of drunken giggles that caused you to momentarily tumble forward and land your hands on Steven's thighs.
"Coffee it is then," Steven answered for you, his voice traveling up an octave. He then carefully moved your hand from his thighs, trying to ignore the chills your touch sent up his spine, and hightailed it to the kitchen to put on the percolator for you.
You tilted your head as he walked away, noting how quickly he left.
When Steven returned with your cup of coffee (with cream and no sugar just how you liked it), he found you seated in the same spot but with his blanket draped over your head and body while soft sniffles and sobs met his ears.
He placed your cup on the table nearby and carefully approached your figure on the couch. Steven reached for the blanket and slowly removed it from your body.
"Why are you crying, love?" he sweetly asked once your face came into view.
"Because I'm a mess," you sniffled, using a hand to wipe the trail of tears falling from your eyes.
Steven's head tilted in disbelief at your words. "You don't really believe that, do you?"
"Yes I do," you nodded fervently, "It's why my dates have sucked for the past 2 months, it's why I got passed over for that goddamn promotion at work last week, and it's why you can't stand being around me for longer than 3 minutes these days."
Steven was taken aback by your words. You thought he couldn't stand to be around you? That's impossible.
"You practically sprinted to the kitchen!" you added after a few moments of silence.
"To make you coffee," Steven protested, gesturing to the cup lying untouched nearby.
"I saw your face," you looked down at where your hands lay in your lap.
Steven swallowed harshly. "Y/n."
You ignored his call for your attention.
"Look at me," he came closer and entangled his hands with your own in your lap, immediately causing you to look up at him with tear-stained eyes, "You are not a mess," he softly yet sternly said to you.
"Yes I am−"
"No. You are not," he interrupted your arguing, "Your dates? They're all losers for letting you slip through their hands. And if a few bad dates is fate's way of making you wait to find the one, then I think that's well worth the holdup, yeah?"
You chewed on your bottom lip anxiously before nodding in agreement.
"And as for my behavior earlier, it was−" Steven paused with a sigh fumbling for a sensible excuse, "it's your perfume."
You pulled a face that would have made Steven laugh under normal circumstances. "My perfume? You hate my perfume?"
Steven swallowed harshly. He hated lying. He wasn't even good at it. But convincing you that he couldn't bear your perfume was easier than admitting that he just couldn't handle the way your hands felt on his thighs or the way his entire body heated up when you leaned closer to him. "Yup. The smell was too much for me," he fibbed.
You rested your head in your palms, pouting slightly. "But you're the only reason I wear this perfume, Steven," you confessed, barely audible.
Steven's face fell. "What?"
"You told me that you liked it when I moved in and from then I kept buying it just because you liked it."
Steven's heart swelled at your admission. He felt like an asshole. He was no better than the losers you'd been going on dates with.
You continued to speak. You could feel words preparing to leave your lips that have been eating at you for a while, now guided by your lowered inhibitions. "And I didn't only mean just now. These past few weeks you can barely look me in my eyes, or be near me, Steven. What am I doing wrong?" your voice broke with your last words.
Steven had seen you cry a few times before. But this time was different. The look on your face was heart-wrenching. He couldn't believe that he made you feel like this.
Because he was having trouble dealing with his own feelings for you, he made you think he hated you...when it was the complete opposite.
"There's nothing wrong with you. It's all my fault," Steven said, breaking away from your gaze, feeling it pierce through him.
"I'm the one who was dumb enough to fall in love with you..." he added, only to look up and see you passed out against the arm of the couch.
A part of him was saddened that you fell asleep before hearing his confession. But another was grateful and profoundly unprepared for your inevitable rejection.
Steven looked at you for a few more seconds before carefully picking you up—smiling to himself when you curled into his chest—and carrying you to your bedroom.
° ° ° ° ° ° ° °
You woke up in a slight daze...and in someone else's bed.
It took a few glances around the room for you to piece together that you were in Steven's room.
And then all of last night's events came back to mind, seeping in and clearing the fog that your excessive alcohol consumption had sired;
Your failed date. Coming home and falling into Steven's arms. Saying way too much to Steven. Steven's last words before your body shut down.
Steven.
Steven.
Steven.
"Oh God," you mumbled, cradling your face in your hands.
Eventually, you pulled yourself out of the bed and stumbled into the bathroom for a shower. You thanked whatever higher power was at work that Steven was still asleep on the couch when you padded through the living room.
But when you finished showering and exited the bathroom, you were hit with the smell of freshly brewed coffee. You poked your head into the living room to make sure Steven was still in the kitchen before running a path straight to your room and getting dressed.
After throwing on one of your old university crew necks and the first shorts you could get your hands on (which happened to be very short ones), you heard a knock at your door followed by Steven's voice.
"Y/N? I have a cup of green tea and some painkillers here...thought you'd need them."
You found yourself smiling at the sound of his voice, something that was becoming more common in recent weeks. What did you do to deserve a man like Steven in your life?
You quickly moved to open the door and let Steven in. "Hey, Steven," you greeted him with a small smile.
He released a nervous chuckle as he presented a cup and two pills to you. "Good morning."
You took them happily, bringing them to your night table. "I'm not actually feeling very hungover," you said to him, turning to sit on your bed.
"Really? That's surprising...considering last night," Steven replied, taking a hesitant step further into your room.
"Yeah must be my tolerance and all that," you shrugged, taking interest in how Steven had yet to meet your eyes since you opened the door.
A beat of silence passed between you while you took a sip of your tea. "Steven, you can sit," you softly spoke, gesturing to your bed.
"Oh, sure," Steven took a seat at the farthest edge of your bed, maintaining a more than comfortable space between you.
"How'd I end up in your bed this morning?" you suddenly questioned. You were genuinely curious, but the reaction it garnered from Steven was more than worth it.
After a brief clear of his throat, Steven answered, "Well you sorta climbed into my bed in the middle of the night, gave me quite a scare actually, and I wanted to give you space to rest so I let you have my bed and I slept in the couch."
"Oh, I'm sorry," you frowned, a tinge of embarrassment seeping in, "Why didn't you sleep in my bed?"
"Because..." laying in your bed that smells flawlessly like you would've sent him into cardiac arrest- "the couch is more comfortable."
You nodded in understanding, placing your half-empty teacup back on the table.
"If you uh need anything," Steven stood up from your bed, slowly walking backward to the door, "just shout," he said as he turned to open the door.
"Did you mean it?"
Steven halted in place at your words, his back still facing you.
You slid off your bed and approached his oddly still figure.
Steven's throat ran dry. There's no way you could have actually heard him. Right? "What?" is all he managed to say.
You walked past him and used a hand to close the door, coming to stand in front of him. You needed to look at his face. Living with Steven for a year has taught you that he wasn't a man of many words but his face said more than enough when he couldn't. Drunk you couldn't utilize your psych degree the night before, but sober you sure could at that moment.
"Did you mean it?" you repeated, "When you said you fell in love with me?"
Steven's jaw slackened when he met your stare, that feeling of being pierced by your gaze returning. "I-"
Your eyes narrowed as you took a step closer to him, now being close enough for his nervous breaths to fan across your lips. "Because if you meant it then I would tell you that. I think..." you paused and looked away for a moment, "No, I know that I love you too."
Steven's hooded brown eyes widened. He blinked a few times, trying to will himself to wake up if this was a dream.
You bit back a small laugh at his expression before you continued. "I love how willing you were to rent some small-time therapist your extra bedroom because you heard her crying in the corner of a coffee shop that she'd been kicked out by her stupid ex-boyfriend. I love the mugs you buy me every month because you saw them and they reminded you of me. I love how you watch shitty action movies with me after every bad date I have because you want to take my mind off them. I love how much you care about...everything really. I love you, Steven Grant," an enlightened smile rested on your face as you spoke, "and I'm sorry that I spent the past year thinking everything you made me feel was platonic when the truth was that you made me feel things that no one else has. I'm an idiot Steven-"
"No," Steven's first word came, a relieved smile accompanying it, "You are not an idiot. You are the smartest person I've ever met. Smarter than me, that's for sure," at that, you both laughed, "I've spent this whole year thinking that you would never see me as anything more than your weird, boring roommate...and turns out you loved me this whole time," he ended in a soft whisper, shocked by his own conclusion. Steven found his eyes drifting down to your lips and you immediately took note of it.
You exhaled deeply before closing the gap between you and Steven, meeting his lips in a bold kiss.
Initially stunned, Steven sunk into your lips soon after, gently bringing his hands up to rest on the sides of your face.
Your brain fogged as Steven devoured your lips, an unusual confidence taking over him. You wrapped your hands around his neck and smiled into the kiss, allowing Steven to slip his tongue past your lips, tasting more of you and pulling a moan from your chest.
Steven pulled away first, feeling himself enter a state that he wouldn't dare himself to in your presence. You bit back a whine when his lips left yours, looking up at him in confusion.
"We don't have to do this if you don't want to," he spoke, taking a step away from you.
You licked your lips and stepped towards him. "Steven, trust me, I want to do this. I want to do a lot more than this actually," you pulled his waist flush against your body, drawing a shared moan from you both when his growing bulge pressed against your stomach.
Steven's hands flew up to grab the back of your neck and your jaw. He softly muttered your name, as a warning more than anything else.
You leaned in and pressed a kiss against the corner of his lips. "If you say no, we will stop this right now and go eat breakfast. But if you say yes, we are gonna stay here and I'm gonna let you do very bad things to my body."
Steven swallowed harshly. "God, yes," he replied, failing to swallow back a whimper at the implication of your words.
Your hands squeezed his waist as you moved back to look at his face fully. "I'm sorry, I didn't hear that Stevie," you smirked.
Steven looked down at you with adoration clear in his eyes. He couldn't believe this was really about to happen. He used his hold on your neck to pull your lips crashing into his. This kiss was a lot more hungrier than the first, with Steven now making his intentions much clearer.
"I'll take that as a yes," you grinned between kisses.
Steven groaned his agreement as he continued to kiss you.
You used your grip on his waist to push him back towards your bed, effectively breaking your kiss and causing him to land on the edge of your bed with a grunt.
Steven looked up at you through his lashes in awe as you approached him. He watched keenly as you removed your top, wearing nothing underneath, before moving to straddle his thighs. Steven made a move to touch your chest before stopping his shaky hands midair and looking at you in question.
You gently held Steven's chin up and smiled down at him. "Steven you can touch me," you reassured him. Even in an intimate moment like this, he was ever the gentleman...
Steven indulged with a sheepish smile and brought both his palms to each of your breasts. Unable to help himself, Steven dove in and took one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the hardened bud.
"Fuck, Steven," you moaned, eyes slamming shut at how good it felt. Your words only seemed to egg him on further as Steven switched to your other breast, his lips and tongue moving against it with more enthusiasm.
Your hands at the back of his neck grabbed fistfuls of his curls while his ministrations against your chest pulled more moans and whines from your lips.
Some time after, you pulled Steven's lips away from your breasts and met them in a searing kiss, pressing your clothed cunt down against his erection. "Shit," Steven lowly cursed, bringing his hands to your waist to grind you down further against his bulge.
You obliged with a moan, grinding in Steven's lap harder. "Tell me what you want, Steven," you whispered against his lips.
Steven's hands squeezed your waist harshly when your lips began sucking against his throat. He could barely put together thoughts at the moment, much less words.
You trailed a hand down to the waistband of Steven's sweats and slowly reached under it for his cock. You swallowed a moan when your hand traced his full length and girth. "You've been holding out on me Steven," you chuckled against his neck.
Steven blushed furiously at your words. "Thank you?" he responded awkwardly, barely functioning with your hand rubbing along his cock.
You chuckled once again, pulling away from his neck to look at him. "You're so pretty," you said, causing another wave of red to hit Steven's cheeks.
"No one's ever said that to me before," he admitted softly.
"Well that's okay, cause I want to be the only one who makes you blush like this," you grinned brushing a stray curl from his forehead, "I bet your cock is just as pretty," your hand picked up speed beneath Steven's pants, "Can I see it? Please?"
Steven nodded enthusiastically. "Anything you want," he said with a desperation that had your pussy throbbing with need. You briefly lifted your hips allowing Steven to clumsily slide off his sweatpants and boxers and step out of them.
Once you returned to your position on his thighs, you looked down at his cock, the head already dripping with small beads of precum. The length was truly unexpected, as well as the girth. You would do anything to feel him inside you.
But for now, you really wanted to taste him.
Steven watched you sink to your knees before him, your eyes never straying from his.
"Are you sure you want to-"
"Steven you said anything I wanted," you paused, gliding your fingers over his length and watching it twitch in response, "And I really want to taste you. Can I suck your cock, Steven?"
Steven's breathing picked up as he took in the image before him; you on your knees, touching his dick while literally begging to suck it with a look in your eyes he could only compare to the look of a wild female tiger eyeing her freshly caught meal in the nature documentary he watched the week before.
"Please, please do," his response came soon after.
You began with a kiss to the head of his cock that made it immediately jump in your hand. You couldn't help but chuckle, and it was a sound that Steven hoped would be the last thing he heard before he left this earth. "You're so sensitive, Stevie," you cooed before pressing another kiss but to the base of his length.
Steven released a sharp moan at both of your kisses to his cock, finding himself embarrassingly close to cumming already.
"Please," he pleaded your name with a whine, "stop teasing."
You swirled your tongue around the head where precum had gathered, moaning in time with your movements and drawing yet another mewl from Steven. "Oh but Stevie, I just love hearing you say please," you teased him, looking up from where you had a hand wrapped around his base and another briefly caressing his balls.
Steven was now panting, his eyes never leaving you as you held him. He watched you slowly wrap your lips around his tip before slowly sinking down.
After reaching a little more than halfway down Steven's cock, you felt yourself gag but simply stilled instead of removing yourself completely.
"Fucking hell," Steven grunted before melding into a pathetic moan once you held your position. You eventually let up when you almost ran out of air and slowly removed your lips from his dick, your eyes meeting his with tears streaming along your face from the stretch.
You were prepared to do it once again but felt Steven's palm grab your chin before you could. "No, love, please. If you do that again I'm afraid I'm not gonna last."
Steven watched you lick your lips before shifting to trap his thumb in between your lips and softly suck on it. He couldn't stop the whine that slipped his lips at your action.
You eventually released his thumb from the confines of your mouth and came to stand over him with a smile. "Well then. Tell me what you want to do next. I'm all yours, baby, remember?"
Steven brought his hands to rest on your hips and leaned forward to press a soft kiss against your stomach. "I-uhh," his brows furrowed and he shook his head briefly as if sending away a thought.
"What is it, Steven?"
The man beneath you looked up to meet your eager eyes, suddenly confident enough to say what he wanted. "I really...really want to taste you."
You felt your breath hitch at his request. It was rare for a man to enthusiastically offer to go down on you. Though it was clear to you now that Steven was most definitely a rare man.
"You want to?" you felt your voice come out a lot more unsure than usual.
Steven's brows furrowed once again as a fleeting smile graced his lips at your response. "Of course I do, sweetheart. Do men not usually..."
You harshly exhaled. "I mean some do but I usually have to complain first or they do it cause they want me to return the favor," you admitted.
"They don't deserve you. No one does," Steven softly uttered, gazing up at you with eyes you were growing more fond of by the minute.
You quickly leaned down to meet him in a kiss in response. You didn't deserve him either.
Steven pulled you back into his lap and kissed you back eagerly. But he was the first to pull away, causing you to whine in a way that made his cock jump against your cunt. "I-I really did mean it, love, I need to taste you. Now."
You had never seen Steven so demanding. It had you throbbing in anticipation. You allowed him to lay you on your back and peel away your shorts and panties to reveal the part of you where you needed him most.
Steven looked starstruck as he examined your arousal. He moved closer and closer to your pussy, letting his warm breath fan over your glistening lips.
"Steven please-" you begged, though you couldn't finish your thought before your voice broke into a loud moan when Steven licked a stripe from your entrance to your swollen clit.
Steven closed his eyes, relishing his first taste of you. It was everything he'd quite literally dreamed of and more.
And so, he eagerly dived into your core.
Your hands flew to Steven's head working between your legs as your thighs instinctively closed around his head from the sudden wave of pleasure surging through you.
The feeling of your thighs trapping his head against your pussy was absolute bliss to Steven. He moaned into you as his tongue swirled around your clit sloppily. If he was inexperienced, you couldn't tell because every movement of his tongue brought you closer and closer to your release.
The vibrations of Steven's enjoyment drew a brief scream from your chest before you slapped a hand over your lips to silence it.
Steven finally came up for air, his lips and jaws covered in your slick. His curls were strewn along his forehead by a damp layer of sweat as his dilated pupils met your own. "C'mon. I want to hear those pretty noises you make for me, love," he said before running two of his fingers through your folds to gather some of your wetness and slowly inserting them into you.
"Oh my-STEVEN" your back arched up and off your bed as you felt immediately filled up by Steven's digits.
Steven gauged your reactions as he slowly removed his fingers before pushing them again with no resistance due to your arousal. "I've wanted this for so long, love," he began to speak as he slowly leaned down to press his lips against your clit in a kiss, "Wanted to hear you moaning my name," he sped up his fingers' movements inside you, "Wanted to taste you," he added another finger, now touching that spot inside your walls with every thrust, "You're so beautiful," he ended before fully diving back in with his tongue against your bud.
"Yes—fuck—you're so good to me baby," you finally gathered enough breath to speak while gaining a proper grip on his head. With every sharp lick or nip he'd make, you would tighten your grip on his hair and it would only spur him on further. It was only a matter of seconds from there before...
"Shit, I'm gonna cum, Steven," you called out, looking down to meet where he was already staring up at you, and speeding up his fingers and tongue's ministrations against you.
He held your stare once he felt your walls clench around his fingers and heard your moan melt into a scream.
"Fuck, fuck, FUCK," you shouted as your orgasm slammed into you thanks to Steven's eager tongue and fingers.
Steven watched your chest slow its heaving when your climax subsided and removed his fingers but couldn't stop himself from licking the remnants of your release from your folds. It was as if he was trying to work you up to another orgasm.
"Shit Steven wait," you mewled, attempting to close your legs from overstimulation. But Steven used strength you'd never known him to have to shove your legs back open and hold them in place, clearly intent on tasting every bit of what you had to offer.
Your eyes widened. "Holy fuck," you removed both your hands from Steven's head and ran them over your face and boobs. He was driving you absolutely insane. If it weren't for his grip on your legs you would be trembling beneath him.
It wasn't long before a second orgasm crept up on you, one more powerful than the last. Your lips parted in a silent scream as your climax washed over your entire body, from your thighs to your feet, to the base of your fucking spine.
Steven couldn't help but stare as he cleaned you up for the last time with his tongue. He couldn't believe he got to see this. To make you feel like this.
Your high subsided soon after and you released a sharp exhale followed by a laugh of disbelief.
Steven moved from his position on his knees before you to hover above you on your bed. "You okay, love?" he questioned in concern
You responded to his question with a satisfied grin. "I'm great, Stevie," you spoke before meeting his lips in a sweet kiss, "But..."
Steven's face fell at your words. He slowly moved from above you to lay next to you, scared to meet your eyes. "I did something wrong didn't I? Or did I forget to do something? I'm sorry-" he rambled, immediately doubting himself.
But his words died in his throat when you turned and caressed his cheek with a hand, your grin still present on your face. "You did nothing wrong," you insisted, "That was no doubt one of the best orgasms of my entire life."
Steven looked away and laughed at your confession. "You don't have to say that to make me feel better."
"I mean it, Steven," your voice grew stern, "That was fucking incredible."
Steven couldn't even formulate a response.
"What I was going to say was," you broke his silence, "I promised you could do bad things to my body and you haven't done nearly enough for me," you ended with a smirk.
Steven grunted when he felt your fingertips run along his cock.
"Don't you want to fuck me, Steven?" you questioned innocently while completely wrapping your hand around and stroking Steven's dick.
He nodded quickly, his bottom lip held between his teeth as he tried not to react to how soft your hand felt around his painfully hard cock. "I do. So badly, love."
You released him and brought a hand over to grab Steven's neck before using your grip to pull him back to his previous position above you. "Then fuck me, Steven. I need you to fuck me," you whispered.
Steven wasted no time in grabbing his length and lining himself up with your entrance. "Are you sure?" he checked in with you once more.
You jerked your hip in the direction of his cock in an effort to fill yourself up but to no avail. You were so damn desperate you didn't care how you sounded. "Yes Steven, please, I need you to fill me up. Fill me up baby, c'mon," you whined hurriedly.
"Well who am I to deny you of what you want, love?" he replied before slowly guiding himself into you.
He immediately groaned at the feeling of your walls squeezing him. "Heavens, love, you're so—aghh—tight," he grunted.
Your moans were never-ending as he sunk into you inch by inch. The stretch was briefly painful but it hurt so good you didn't care.Steven stopped halfway in and leaned down to press a kiss against your forehead. "You're taking me so well, sweetheart," he praised you.
You bit your lip at his praise. "More, Steven, keep going."
Steven obliged and fully sunk into you with one last push. Your moans mixed in the air at the sudden change. "You feel so good inside me Steven, oh my God-" you cried out.
You nearly choked on air when Steven slowly pulled out of your heat before slamming back into you.
"SHIT," you both cursed together before opening your eyes to look at each other.
"Faster, baby, I can take it I promise," you nodded, bringing your hands up to the sides of Steven's face. You even wrapped your legs around Steven's waist.
Steven took a deep breath before pulling out and rutting into you again, now establishing a pace. Which every thrust inside your cunt, Steven grazed your g-spot, effortlessly. It was as if you were built for his cock.
"Fuckin' love the way you fuck me, Steven," you mumbled as Steven set a brutal pace inside you.
Steven leaned down to press his forehead against yours as he continued to fuck you. Your breathing seemed to sync as he pulled out moan after moan from you.
His hands rested at the sides of your head but you could feel them inching closer to your neck.
Your pussy clenched around him at the thought of him choking you. Steven faltered in his thrusts in response. "Love you're squeezing me so hard I don't think I'm gonna last."
"Do it," you called out, tilting your head toward one of his hands.
"What?"
"I can see you thinking about it. Choke me, baby," your chest heaved as you felt your third orgasm of the night approaching.
Steven hesitated for a second before he stopped his thrusts and brought a shaky hand to wrap around your throat.
"I trust you, Steven," you spoke truthfully, "I want this too," you brought a hand to rest over Steven's briefly in reassurance.
Steven began roughly pounding you again with his hand now squeezing around your neck.
"Fuck yes, holy shit," you breathed out, feeling your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head with the newly added feeling of Steven's large hand wrapped around your throat. making you see stars.
Steven, although shocked by your immediate enjoyment of his secret guilty pleasure, took it as a sign to continue. So he trusted faster but made sure to maintain the same amount of pressure on your neck. He then got the idea to use his free hand to reach down and fiddle with your clit while fucking you.
You were instantly thrown over the edge. You came with as best a scream of Steven's name as you could manage with his hand still choking you. Chills ran down your spine while Steven slowed his thrusts inside you and waited for your orgasm to pass.
Eventually, you felt Steven release your neck and slowly begin to remove his cock from your cunt. You tightened your legs around his waist in protest. "Uh uh, we're not stopping till you come inside me, Steven," you demanded.
Steven loved the way you'd been taking control throughout all of this. He'd do anything you asked without a thought. "That's fine with me love," he nodded with a lopsided grin.
"Good," you deeply inhaled before using your hold on his waist to roll him onto his back, with you now straddling him.
You smiled at his shocked expression, which soon morphed into excitement. "You're bloody amazing," he grinned up at you.
You fought the heat that crawled onto your cheeks at his words and looked away with a smile. "Stop sweet talking me and fuck me, Steven."
He nodded quickly, "Yes ma'am." Steven slipped back into your entrance slowly.
But you grew impatient and fully sat down on his cock, loving how full he made you feel. Steven's cries met your ears soon after.
You grabbed his hands and placed each on one of your breasts before beginning to properly ride him. Steven heeded your directions and pawed at your chest while thrusting up to meet your hips.
His grunts soon became whimpers and whines as you rode him harder and faster, eager to make him cum.
"I'm almost there, love," he cried before sitting up and pulling you into his chest. His hands moved down to grip your waist where he guided you faster along his cock.
"There you go, Steven," you held his face against your own as his pace grew sloppy and his brown eyes slid shut.
"Cum for me, baby," you softly spoke with one last grind of your hips. Steven halted inside you with a broken sob of your name and filled you up with his warm release.
You moaned at the feeling of his spend coating your inner walls and leaned down to press a kiss to the top of his head. "You did so good Steven."
"I love you," his eyes finally opened while he panted, looking up at you with vulnerable eyes as if scared that you wouldn't feel the same after what you had just done together.
"I love you too," you replied without hesitation. You gently shoved Steven onto his back and followed suit, laying down on his chest as you gently removed his softening cock from inside you. You felt his hands move to wrap around your body soon after, bringing you further into his body.
Steven was the first to speak after some time. "I think you're the best thing that's happened to me in a really long time," he admitted, turning to look at you, not at all phased by the exhaustion in your features.
You leaned up to meet Steven in a heated kiss. He tightened his hold on you and met your lips with equal fervor. You pulled away reluctantly and looked down at his face with furrowed brows as you used a hand to trace his jaw and swollen lips. "Where have you been hiding my entire life, Steven Grant?"
"Haven't been hiding, love. I've just been here waiting for you."
° ° ° ° ° ° ° °
WHEW! This ABSOLUTELY got away from me holy shit. 6k words? yeah, not the plan at all. But hey it's definitely something considering that I haven't been able to sit down and write anything till tonight.
So I really do hope you enjoyed it.
(Lemme go look back through my requests and see what else I can cook up.)
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The Most Innocent Sinner
Dean Winchester Masterlist
Summary: For everyone, she's the shy, pure, little Y/n. Dating Dean Winchester is like going on dates with the complete opposite of her. So it is a very nice surprise when Dean learns how kinky she actually is by finding her collection of sex toys.
Pairing: Dean Winchester x F!Reader
Rating: 18+
Content warning: Sex toys, masturbation (male and female), dirty talk
Square filled: Dildos for @spnkinkevents / “Now that’s something you definitely shouldn’t try at home.” for @jacklesversebingo / masturbation for @anyfandomkinkbingo / “Unfortunately, I’m turned on by that.” for @anyfandomgoesbingo
A/n: Finding a title is so hard. I got stuck on this one for way too long. Big thanks to my friends that helped me!
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From the outside, Y/n looked like a Saint. Cute, she wasn't very tall and almost sickly shy, and her social anxiety didn't help her case at all. 
Since she didn’t have many friends, Y/n spent her time at the library surrounded by stories that made her forget how alone she felt. The characters on these yellowed sheets would never judge or criticize her, it was a comfort in which she really liked to immerse herself, especially after a hard day.
It was also where she met the Winchester brothers for the first time.
For someone like Y/n, the complete opposite of popular, invisible to people even when she was in the same room with them, the Winchesters were the pinnacle of perfection. Bodies built like gods, well-defined faces, piercing eyes, they gave off a strong and dominating aura that attracted the gaze of everyone in their path. And Y/n was no exception.
The moment the two brothers walked near her table at the library, there was no longer any need to read. Her book closed by itself in front of her, as she no longer held it open, her eyes fixedly stuck on the two men. Following their directions with her gaze, she turned her head, almost hurting her neck.
The colors around her suddenly seemed more vivid. The sounds, sweeter to the ear. She strained her ear to better listen to their conversations. And it was then that the stories she loved reading so much... Became reality.
Y/n had always had a habit of making herself fade away. Not wanting to attract attention, remaining discreet and making herself as small as possible. But the moment she saw them, it was like a light bulb went on inside her, and filled her with a life she had never really felt. And she decided to change that.
She didn’t want to hide anymore.
It was an adventure awaiting her, just like in her books. Filled with villains, monsters, but also angels, laughter, food and finally, a place where she belonged. It didn't take long for her to take part in their lives, quickly becoming a full member of their families. Although she wasn’t trained to be in the field hunting monsters, her lifelong experience of extensive reading was too vital and important to refuse her help.
Initially, Y/n was assigned to research. It was perfect for her, she could show them how efficient she was at this task so they would give her more to do eventually. Quickly, she climbed the ranks in the Winchesters' trust and became closer to them.
Everything about her personality was perfect to fit with Sam's. And yet, as the months stretched into years, she inevitably grew closer to Dean. Some will say that opposites flock together, and they are not wrong. Dean was the opposite of Y/n, stubborn, he didn't hesitate to say what was on his mind and loved seeing the adorable expression that invaded her face when he made inappropriate or worse, sexual comments. Immediately, Y/n would disappear from the room almost like magic, or she would become so embarrassed that he took pity and immediately changed the subject.
Y/n had a purity that Dean never had, and it was one of the reasons why even after all this time knowing her, he was still reluctant to let her come with them on hunts. Or even to involve her in anything that could endanger her or defile this purity. If he could keep her from losing that sparkle in her eyes, he would, no matter the cost.
After a few months of dating, Y/n finally agreed to live in the bunker with them. Dean helped her move in, putting her things in a room other than his, and although not sharing the same bed disappointed him a little, he understood why. She wasn't ready, and he insisted on her comfort. He was willing to wait for her as long as it took.
“If I had known you had that many boxes, I would have brought in extra hands,” Dean huffed, placing yet another heavy box on the ground. Straightening up, he raised his arms above his head to stretch his back.
“Sorry, all my books,” Y/n shrugged and lowered her head, embarrassed.
With a quick wave of his hand, Dean signaled that it was nothing. “It only takes a little longer but it’s no problem,” he quickly said to reassure her, so she wouldn’t feel bad about having so much stuff. After all this time knowing her, he knew how important her books were to her.
Her 500 books which weighed bricks to transport…
“I'll go get another box,” she accepted Dean's answer and as she passed him on her way out, left a quick kiss on the cheek. It was Dean's turn to react, his face quickly turning red.
“Okay, in the meantime, I'm going to start…” Glancing at the mountain of cardboard, Dean sighed again. “Cleaning a little…”
Sam wasn't there. Although he proposed his help for moving her stuff in, Dean's ego was more powerful. As a boyfriend, he had to take care of his girlfriend himself. Without help. Showing her that he was there for her, and that she would always be his priority.
Dean had been in several relationships in the past. And he loved each woman with all of his soul. But each time, his work, his family or the apocalypse had forced him to leave. It had been a very difficult task each time, but he had done it.
Just the thought of leaving Y/n had the same effect as losing a limb. It was unthinkable.
Ah shit. He was in love.
Him, in love?
It was the first time.
… Wait a minute.
He was in love with her.
This realization hit him harder than he expected. Dean took a few steps back, his head spinning quickly. He was in love. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. Never in his entire life had he felt this kind of thing for someone, feelings so strong, so true. When they were together, he felt so good, like he had finally found the thing he was missing. The person he needed.
Dean took another step back, and inevitably, his legs encountered a box. He lost his balance and, trying not to cause a landslide, had to hold himself against the nearest thing… Another box.
This one was strangely and unfortunately lighter than the others and failed to stop him from doing damage. Luckily, Dean kept his balance and avoided the embarrassment of falling on his butt, but the box fell to the ground.
“Son of a bitch,” he grumbled as he hurried to pick it up. As he took it, he noticed that it was not closed properly. It was definitely not his plan to go through Y/n's personal belongings, but when he opened the box to close it better, he couldn't help but see what was inside.
And it wasn't his fault. The first item on top was a box that displayed the inscription of its contents, and his curiosity, well… took care of the rest.
“What the…” taking the item in question, Dean examined it. His hunter's eye detected every detail, inscriptions, the wear on the cardboard and even the place where the packaging had once been sealed before opening. The sticky paper seemed to have been removed so quickly, the color of the cardboard remained stuck on it. It was exactly as if its owner, eager to have the object, hadn’t been concerned by the breakage of its packaging.
SO. It was still possible that the contents were not what was written in black and white on the packaging. It was still a possibility. Dean understood, it was his duty to get to the bottom of it once and for all. Otherwise, the question would haunt him for the rest of his life.
Heart racing for no good reason, Dean placed his fingers where the paper was torn off and pulled the tab. Then, breathless, he opened the box and peered inside.
“Son of a bitch,” his mouth breathed along with the last of his oxygen. No... he couldn't believe it. As if he needed further proof that his eyes had already given him, Dean reached into the box and pulled out the object.
It was still in its bag, but an opening proved its frequent use. Both soft and very hard, it was of regular size and of a pretty pink shade. Dean didn't need to take it out of the bag to know that underneath was the little hole to get charged, the wire still in the box.
In his hand, Dean held the thing he never thought he would hold… Let alone find among his girlfriend's stuff. The sweet, pure, shy Y/n.
Scared that she would come back and see him like this, Dean quickly put the pink dildo vibrator back in its box. A thousand questions swirled through his mind and his heart still hadn't stopped pounding in his ribcage. In his eagerness and nervousness, Dean almost dropped the box, so he had to pull himself together to put it back exactly where he had found it.
And that was when he saw them.
There were plenty of them. A dozen even. Some had their original packaging, others had boxes without inscription. Curiosity rose in Dean who forgot the presence of his girlfriend and owner of these toys in the bunker. It was like suddenly he was alone in the world as he began to pull out everything he had in front of his eyes, his pupils dilating with each new discovery.
Small portable vibrator. One that looked like a butterfly, insertable and vibrant. A… dolphin? A flesh-colored dildo, including ball and base with suction. A magic staff. Purple, pink, black, the colors were added one after the other. And then suddenly...
Dean came across the largest box.
It was curiously and surprisingly big for what was inside. Dean couldn't help it. It was heavy, there was no doubt about the contents, but he had to see it with his eyes, hold it in his hands, and absorb reality.
It couldn't be that big... right?
And oh my god.
“Now that’s something you definitely shouldn’t try at home…”
Examining it from every angle, he still couldn't understand. The words “bad dragon” were forever imprinted in his brain along with the image of that purple and blue hued dildo. It was imposing, as tall as it was wide, and the different textures were strange but pleasant to the touch. And inevitably, his brain went in that perverse direction he imagined...
Her moans filled the room and the echo was carried throughout the whole bunker. Sounds of pleasure? No. Of frustration. She moaned as she tried as best she could to get the dildo into her entrance, which was still too tight for such a monster. But her determination only grew with her goal, and the idea alone of being able to have all those inches inside her was so exciting that she almost didn't need any lube.
“Oh fuck,” breathed through her lips as the head of the toy finally pierced the breach. Her head tilting back, she wiggled on the dildo to widen her entrance to accommodate the rest. Kneeling over the toy made it easier for her to maneuver her body and part her lips for guidance. And when finally the dildo was inside her, a long sigh of relief mixed with the pleasure of having succeeded hissed between her lips.
“I love the view…”
Dean hadn't missed a single thing. Standing in the doorway, he watched, admired, and nourished himself with the magnificent view before him. Kneeling on the bed facing him, she knew he was there. Even though her eyes were closed, she felt his presence, heard his heavy breathing. And then there was the rustling of his clothes every time he adjusted his position or reached for his swollen crotch.
It was one of the hottest things she had ever experienced. The desire was so strong it was palpable. The smell of sex filled the room. A moan passed her lips as she opened her eyes to look at him, her breath leaving her lungs, making the air almost unbreathable because it was so saturated.
"Oh. No."
The sound of a heavy object hitting the ground brought him back to consciousness. Then it took him several seconds to realize the voice that had spoken just before the impact, what it had said and who it belonged to. Turning towards the door, Dean's eyes were wide open, the green almost disappearing from his irises because his pupils were so dilated.
Her face was not in any better condition. As her eyes, wide with fear and shame, moved between what he was holding and the box behind him and finally settling on him, Dean could see the embarrassment quickly filling her being.
“What is this?”
Still shocked by his discovery and what it implied, these words were the first and only ones that had managed to escape his lips. Obviously, he knew what it was, and what it was for. However, he needed to hear it from her mouth. To confirm what his eyes had already understood.
His question only made her more uncomfortable.
“You weren’t supposed to see that,” she muttered under her breath, lowering her head and crossing the distance between them to grab the dildo and remove it from the hunter’s hands. All this to hide the evidence that had already been consumed, unfortunately. “Please, forget about it,” she pleaded, still refusing to meet his gaze. Her hand resting next to Dean's on the dildo, she tried to take it back, but was surprised to see that he didn't want to let it go. “Dean?”
“It’s impossible,” his voice was low, almost a breath lost in the tension of the air. “Unfortunately… I’m turned on by that. And here I thought you were all pure and shy…” Taking a pause in his words only made the state Y/n was in worse. Next to Dean, she felt his breath against her cheek, and the heat of his body. It was heavy, his chest moving in time with his harsh breathing. As if he had to do everything to hold back. “I waited for you to be ready, and I'll still wait but… Y/n…” As she still refused to raise her head and meet his gaze, Dean took his other hand, the one that wasn't holding the dildo, to gently lift Y/n’s chin. “Thinking about you touching yourself with that… oh fuck, it’s hot, sweetheart.”
“Yeah?” A shy smile appeared on her lips, her eyes watering at how she was embarrassed but still... Very excited by this idea.
“Oh yeah,” Dean swallowed, his green eyes darting from Y/n's lips to her eyes, then back to her lips. Like two magnets held too far apart, but at the same time too close, it was inevitable.
Dean pressed his mouth to Y/n’s, kissing her forcefully. The dildo was quickly put aside, both needing their hands to touch the other. Dean placed his on Y/n's waist, and her around his neck. Her nails scratched the soft part of his neck, leaving red marks he would never see. It was intense, they almost devoured each other with an insatiable appetite. Opening her lips, Y/n stuck her tongue out barely, just enough to give access to Dean who was quick to push his tongue into her mouth. The kiss became languorous, messy, even, and Y/n backed into a box and almost fell. Dean broke the kiss to ask if she was okay, but she silenced him by replacing her lips on his to continue the kiss.
Their mouths didn't leave each other as clothes flew around the room, some getting stuck on boxes while others fell to the floor. Eventually, they managed to maneuver through the mountains of boxes to get to the bed. Y/n plopped down on the mattress and laughed against Dean’s mouth which only took a second to find its way back to hers. Now both were shirtless and their hands explored each other without stopping.
Finally, Y/n broke the kiss to speak.
“I want you to watch me.”
“What?” Dean was panting, his erection so painful in his pants he was afraid it would explode at the slightest touch. Like a hungry lion demanding its prey, he tried to grab Y/n's lips but she refused him access by placing her fingers between them.
“I want you to watch me use the toy…” If she was an angel a few moments ago, the Y/n he had, lying under him on the bed, half naked, was a little devil hidden under the appearance of a Saint.
Just the thought of seeing her in real life masturbating with the monster he had found made Dean gulp and push himself up so he was on his knees. His face was so red, he had trouble understanding how there could still be blood in his length.
“Are you sure? I mean, I… I can’t say no to that, fuck, but… I don’t want you to feel forced or…”
“Dean,” she interrupted, a smile tugging at her lips. “I really want to. And I know you want it too.” Y/n took a deep, slightly shaky breath before continuing. “So… Bring me the one you want me to use… And get comfortable.”
Dean swallowed and looked at his girlfriend's face. Since he had known her, they had never been this far in their intimacy. And he would never have imagined that she had this in her. Obviously he was surprised, but it was a very pleasant surprise. Like an excited child on Christmas morning, Dean rushed to the box of adult toys and once again admired all the choices presented to him. Each of them infused an image, each more erotic than the other, into his mind. For a moment, he hesitated to take the monster he had found shortly before, but decided that for now, this view was better in his mind. And he didn't want to embarrass Y/n even more than she was, what she was proposing was very intimate, very sexy, but also terribly hard to do. To open up like this, to show yourself like this...
Dean returned to his girlfriend, a box in hand. “This one,” he held out the box, knowing full well what it contained. Y/n took it, hesitated for a few seconds while staring at it in her hands. Just as Dean was about to repeat that she didn't have to, that they could continue to just makeout and that was okay, she opened the box and took out the toy.
It was a simple one. No vibration, just a flesh colored dildo with suction at the bottom. It wasn’t the biggest she owned, but it was still big, almost as big as Dean’s cock. So to see her use this, he could easily picture him in her…
Just the thought sent another wave of arousal down his pants.
“Do you need a moment, or lube or…” Dean was still standing up near the bed as she was on her knees on the mattress. For the first time, he was clueless and didn't know what to do. And yet, it was not his first time, nor the last, that he had more kinky moments with his partner. But Y/n was different, she wasn't just his sexual partner, but the woman he loved. And the prospect of getting even closer and more intimate was worth more than any sex he could have.
“I want you to watch the whole thing,” Y/n replied, lifting her ass off the mattress just enough to undo her pants and pull them down along with her panties with just one hand. In an almost expert manner, she finished undressing herself with one hand, her other never letting go of the toy. “You can sit down, you know,” she laughed when she saw Dean still standing where he was, stiff as a stick.
“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” he sat on the edge of the bed and turned his body towards her. It was like he was back at 15 with the most popular girl in school, ready for his first time. Nervousness filled his entire being, along with excitement, and if he wasn't so experienced years later, his erection would have disappeared or he would have come prematurely in his pants.
Dean silently thanked all the girls he had in the past that strengthened his stamina.
“How do you want me to use it?” 
Dean could see how nervous she was. It was the first time she was completely naked in front of him, and her body was shaking ever so slightly, shivers that covered her soft skin in goosebumps. But yet, through that nervousness, she was freaking sexy. Still kneeling, she was slowly stroking her intimacy with the toy, coating it with her wetness. And without asking, Dean knew she wouldn’t need any lube.
“Just… Like this, you can ride it…” The words got out of his mouth by automatism. Truth was, Dean was half there now, so excited and focused on her, a part of his mind was shut down. It was so hot, he couldn’t detach his eyes from her body, the way the toy rubbed through her lower lips, how her hips rocked back on it, and her face, so soft, so cute, so embarrassed… With eyes burning in a strong passion.
“Okay,” she whispered. Time seemed to slow down. Dean could feel his heart beating in his head and in his crotch, the intensity growing with each movement she made. Straightening up, she placed the dildo behind her, careful to align it with her entrance, and opened up her legs to let Dean continue watching. 
And he could see it all.
It was better than everything he could ever imagine.
The toy was big, but she was probably very wet and very used to it, because it didn’t take long for her to lower down on it. Inch by inch, the dildo disappeared into her entrance until it was almost completely gone. Her body was bent back, her chest glistening with sweat and the cutest moan left her lips.
“Fuck,” Dean groaned. It was too much, so he rushed to open his pants, just enough to free his aching cock. The simple touch sent thousands of electrical shocks of pleasure through his body, but still, his eyes were fixed on her. “You’re so hot, I don’t think I’ll last long,” he held the base of his cock stronger to avoid his climax.
“I don’t think I’ll last long either,” she whimpered. She had started moving already, slowly, up and down on the toy. Since she was on the bed, the succion was useless and she had to hold it with one hand. Dean could see how wet she was on the dildo, and imagined how warm it had to be inside.
Another groan whistled through his teeth.
“Hmmm,” she moaned, picking up speed. “It feels so good… Dean… Look at me…”
He didn’t notice, but his gaze was so focused on the toy and her pussy, he didn’t even look at her face. Blinking hard, he looked up, and when he saw her face, twisted in pleasure, he couldn’t help it.
His hand started moving on his cock at the same rhythm as her.
“Can’t wait to be inside of you,” Dean muttered through his rashing breath. “Must feel so warm in there, and you’re so wet, fuck, sweetheart, you’re killing me.”
As an answer, she moaned and closed her eyes for a second. But quickly, she set her gaze on him again, even if it had to be the most embarrassing thing she ever did. She wanted to watch him watch her, watch him stroke his cock, watch him cum with her. “Soon… I promise, soon, you’ll have me, you’ll fuck me as much as you want, whenever you want… I'm ah... All yours, Dean..."
"Y/n." Dean could only say that. Again and again, moaning her name as she continued moving on the toy. "Y/n..."
"Dean, I’m gonna cum, oh my god, I’m…”
It was stronger than her. Never before did she come with only a dildo in her, it always took her hands or a vibrator on her clit to reach the end. But right now, in front of her boyfriend masturbating with her, it was too much. It felt so good. 
In an explosion of pleasure, her orgasm ripped through her in a scream. She closed her eyes, her body shaking, her wetness flooding under her and on her bed. But she so didn’t care about this right now.
It took a few moments for her to regain her hearing back, and a few more moments to open her eyes. It was strong, and she suddenly felt so tired, like the world came crashing back on her. Feeling like she could sleep for a whole day without waking up.
Y/n landed her eyes on the man in front of her. Dean had his head bent back, eyes closed, mouth parted. Lower, his cock was still a bit hard, and his release was covering his hand.
“Oh,” she said sadly, realizing she didn’t see him cum. At least, they came together.
“Oh,” Dean repeated, finally opening his eyes to land them on her. “That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen and done,” he admitted, a silly smile filling up his face. So he was too, drunk on pleasure.
“Yeah,” she admitted, feeling her face flush with embarrassment. Wow. They did it. They actually did it. Her joy, thought, left her face quickly as she realized something. “Fuck.”
“What is it?” Dean immediately went on protective boyfriend mode when he heard the change in her voice.
“I think I…” Y/n’s voice was small, so small and shy as she lifted herself from the spot she was in, removing carefully the dildo from her, and looked at the mess she made. “It never happened before, but now my bed… I don’t think I can use it anymore… Oh no…”
“Sweetheart,” Dean rushed to her side, quickly putting himself back in his pants even if he was messy with his release as well. “It’s alright. There’s plenty of other room in the bunker, with other beds.”
“But,” she stammered, her gaze looking down at her hands. “What if I want to… Use your bed, with you?” 
Y/n ended up looking up at him, their gaze meeting.
A soft kiss on her lips answered her question, and all of her insecurities washed away.
“My bed is yours, sweetheart. We can always use this room for your books, I’ll ask Sam to help building shelves and-”
Another kiss, this time, more powerful, interrupted his sentence. “God, I love you so much.”
Babum.
The words he never said back before.
Dean thought they would be hard to say. Impossible, even. But he surprised himself with how easy it actually was.
“I love you too, sweetheart.”
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Forever taglist: @nitnat6245 @eevvvaa​​ @wickedinspirations​@fictional-affairs @awkward-and-indecisive​​ @peachyaliien @katbratsupernaturalwhore
Supernatural Tag List: @peachyaliien @sexyvixen7 @stixnstripesworld @charred-angelwings @treat-winchesterswith-kindness​ @lyarr24 @fiftyshadesgrl @this-is-me19
Dean Winchester Tag List: @akshi8278​​ @kazsrm67​​​ @wtrpxrks @deanwanddamons @thoughts-and-funnies​​​ @charred-angelwings @jensendreamland​ @deanswaywardgirl​​​ @happyt0exist @waynes-multiverse​​​ @djs8891 @mimaria420 @this-is-me1​​​ @syrma-sensei
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verm1c1de · 7 months
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Zims entire personality is completely fabricated
Let me explain.
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Zim, as we know him, is just a mask made up by.. well, Zim.
Zim doesn’t exist.
Because Zim, at his most genuine, loves.
And Zim is not supposed to love.
It’s been thrown around throughout the entire course of the series that Zim is, in fact, a very intelligent individual. Moreso than irkens, renowned technology-thieves, are known to be. It’s for this fact, that it would make sense, that Zim would not be completely ignorant of how the rest of Irken society views him.
The defect, the worst irken to ever exist, et cetera.
There’s no way to be that obtuse about your own infamy, and if there is, there’s enough hints and clues in the series to allow viewers to come to the conclusion that Zim isn’t unaware of it all.
And no, this is not a “Zim is a genius and knows absolutely everything” post. He’s definitely gullible. He absolutely has the worst priorities, he doesn’t know when to quit, too stubborn and set in his own beliefs, but he does Know a lot more than he lets on.
Multiple instances of Tallest Purple nearly revealing the truth about Zim’s mission or being too careless with his words are brushed away, either spoken over by Red or ignored completely by Zim, as if he didn’t hear it at all. Similarly, Sizz-Lorr exists as tangible evidence of everything wrong with Zim’s falsified identity as an invader. He shows up for one episode and that episode introduces some of the most important building on Zim’s coding and the consequences derived from his destructive actions on Irk. And his response to this, is to flat out deny it. Because with Purple, he has the expectation to not be aware. With Sizz-Lorr, everything he’s done is laid out in front of him, forcing him to acknowledge it. He won’t.
Zim, at his most genuine, is paranoid.
Paranoid enough to fabricate an entire personality from nothing after having the entirety of Irken knowledge downloaded into his PAK, only minutes after having been freed from his tube.
Zim is a bootlicker. Zim couldn’t care less about the Tallest. Zim seeks absolution from the Tallest because he knows that he was Made Wrong and that the things he’s done are unforgivable, but he can’t help himself. Zim only goes out of his way to gain their attention because he knows that’s what the average irken desires. All of these are true.
Zim is only drawn to invading in the most superficial way possible for an irken. He enjoys the idea of invading, not because it is personally "appealing" to him in any sense of the word, but because he knows that it is for others. It's an esteemed title. An invader gets to have respect. An invader gets to be addressed directly by the Tallest.
Being an invader is the best thing. Not for him, but for his act.
He needs the act. The act will save him from his imperialistic society. The act is the worst thing to ever happen to him.
Zim is nothing without it. He’s nothing with it.
He hates the act.
(“Hey, you’re a worse flier than I am!”)
And it’s very, very likely that he hates himself because of it. Much more than anyone else could ever hate him, because their hate for him is as superficial as his allegiance to the Empire is.
Zim does not fit in on Irk because Irk doesn’t need a Zim. Irk doesn’t need an irken soldier whose sole identity is to destroy.
Which is why Zim fits in so much better on Earth as its villain. On Earth, he gets to be a part of the story, not a fool that has to force himself on stage to even have some semblance of a spotlight.
Zim was already firmly set into his role before arriving to Earth; but coming there, and meeting Dib, further instills Zim with the drive to keep it up. Dib exists to be a hero, after all! And heroes need their villains. Zim fits into that role perfectly. And of course Zim, being nothing BUT a role, is drawn to it. He'll feed into Dib's alien obsession because Dib's alien obsession fits into Zim's "character". The big bad guy that needs to be fought against.
Which makes sense.
If he's the big bad that everyone hates, he doesn't have to worry about wondering if anyone loves him, because he knows they don't.
His first words were “I love you.”
The Zim we know does not love.
The Zim we know is nothing but an elaborate, one-irken act, stuck playing the same role in the same show for as long as he draws it out for.
One which would collapse if anything ever brought attention to it.
this post would not have been made without the help of @short-and-ugly and @animatorfun. seriously. like they wrote it. they were my editors.
this is NOT a headcanon post, im for realsies. this is metatextual analysis. i genuinely believe this is what zims character is supposed to be ((even if not necessarily intentionally))
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sleeping w/ the mercs [IT IS LIKE THAT]
these are so badddddd bro literally ignore this i just need practice and the mercs are my victims pinky promise i'll get better
yeah the title is the exact same as the tf2 headcanons from my main SO WHAT
if ur under 16 please don't interact 👍🏻
afab reader i’m sorry guys :( gender is totally neutral though
obviously this is under a cut
warnings/includes: MENTIONS OF SYRINGES/NEEDLES, SCALPELS, AND MEDICAL STUFF IN MEDIC'S SECTION!!!!!! AND KNIVES AND BLOOD IN SNIPER'S!!!! these are so bad, pyro is insane, medic is also insane, sniper is depraved, actually everybody's depraved, i'm depraved and also so so sorry
mostly what they're into/how they behave, nothing super reader specific in these ones
Scout:
-he’s got enough experience but he isn’t as good as he says he is, he’s got the spirit though and that’s what matters
-really good with his fingers but he can't find the clit half the time so help him out a bit
-absolutely an ass man but isn’t into anal
-scout usually likes positions where he can easily see/touch your ass (doggy, reverse cowgirl, etc)
-definitely says cringe shit in the bedroom, 100% refers to himself as daddy (which is canon i think?? i remember him having a voice line where he does that, could be wrong tho)
-has tried (and failed) to call you kitten on the regular but reverted back to the usual (still cringy) nicknames he calls you after demo made fun of him
-he never shuts up so the dirty talk is CRAZYYYY
-calls you stuff like doll, baby, babe, and uses pretty girl/boy/baby and babygirl/boy/doll when he's close
-even though he’s a little clumsy with it, he really does like giving oral, just give him a little direction; BUT likes receiving oral even more, sorry abt ur knees babe 💔
-definitely into semi-public sex, he won’t do anything in front of people but you bet your ass he’s finding some alleyway or storage closet to get freaky in
-does get jealous pretty easy and even though he’s usually not too rough with you he is not above manhandling when he sees fit
-the dog tags stay on, do with that what you will
Soldier:
-good GAWD
-literally so mean but mean in a hot way so that makes it okay
-absolutely nickname crazy; most of them aren't very cute or sexy (i.e. cadet, maggot, etc) but cupcake always makes an appearance
-very much into verbal degradation because of course he is, is also very into manhandling and just kinda tossing you around but he doesn't wanna hurt you too bad
-rarely ever fucks on an actual bed, usually it's the nearest wall/table/chair/couch, any surface you could lay/sit on really
-no the helmet is not coming off but that adds to it
-the honey IS going on though, maybe not his full body but it will make an appearance (he’s def into foodplay)
-tiny bit of a size kink, i think soldier is one of the taller, bulkier mercs so there's a very good chance he's much bigger than you in one way or another
-would absolutely be interested in a threesome with demo let's get real here
-very attracted to body hair bc i say so
-likes positions where he's very obviously the one in control/with the power; very into restraint either with some device (handcuffs, rope, etc) or with his own hands
-VERY loud, so good luck with that lmao
Pyro:
-man,,,,
-obviously into temperature and wax play
-the mask and suit do not come off, but pyro has a plethora of toys to use on you instead 😊
-gets off on the idea that he's some faceless person you can't really understand that has complete control over you and your body
-does occasionally lift the mask up just above his nostrils to kiss you, though, scarred lips be damned
-does babble a lot, even though it's all muffled; the nicknames he uses are surprisingly cute, he'll call you stuff like sugarplum, marshmallow, firefly, sugar cube, and other sickly-sweet names
-doesn't like showing you his bare skin/body because of their burn scars, but pyro does enjoy grinding if you wanna help him out that bad
-derives most of his pleasure from making you feel good, though, so he isn't really looking for any type of physical release on his end
-pyro's are kinda short i just can't think of any more rn i apologize 💔
Demo:
-WHAT A MAN 😍😍😍
-#1 lover out of all the mercs get fucked spy
-i think his build is very similar to soldiers, maybe an inch or two taller, so he definitely has the same lowkey size kink
-is also open to a threesome with soldier
-absolutely a service dom but he teases so much
-FAKE SYMPATHY!!!! FAKE SYMPATHY!!!!!!!
-likes when you call him by his name more than any of the cheesy titles dudes usually want their significant other to call them but he is always referring to you by any nickname he can think of; the most popular ones are lamb, sweetheart, lass/lad, my girl/boy/baby and "poor, sweet thing"
-loves talking to you and making you talk back to him even when you're literally on a different planet; makes you tell him what you want him to do even though he knows exactly what you're gonna say
-also slightly into dumbification (not to the extent medic or engineer are, though, he just thinks it's hot)
-very much into face and thigh riding
-foreplay alone could last as long as an hour if he's feeling "mean" at that particular time
-THIGH MAN!!!!!! LET'S GO!!!!!!!!!!
-makes you hold eye contact with him, sometimes the eyepatch comes off 🥴
-likes giving a whole lot more than receiving but he isn't about to turn down a blowjob if you offer
-waking you up with oral, it's his version of breakfast in bed
Heavy:
-and you thought demo was a service dom 🙄
-literally will do whatever you ask him to he does not care, as long as you feel good he's content
-very obvious size kink and it's very easy to exploit, but heavy doesn't take too kindly to teasing (he isn't about to stop you, though)
-speaks mostly in russian so unless you're fluent you can't really understand him but you get the gist of what he's saying by the tone in his voice
-outside of whatever russian bullshit he's spouting out, he calls you his "leetle bunny"
-tries to be gentle with you because of how big he is, but if he's provoked he can and will get wild
-as stated above, he can and will get wild, which includes his dirty talk; russian praise will turn into demeaning english muttered in your ear
-BREEDING KINK !!!!!!!!!!
-doesn't tease you on purpose, but he goes slow enough to where you think he's fucking with you (no pun intended)
-begging is never necessary but it is a guilty pleasure of his
-doesn't ask to receive oral often but watching you struggle with it does kinda turn him on even more
-face sitting extraordinaire, yes he does make the stupid eating sounds like in the game and yes he does it on purpose to try to make you laugh
-LET HEAVY FUCK NASTY GOD DAMN IT!!!
Engineer:
-WHAT A MIGHTY GOOD MAN 😍😍😍
-much stronger than you'd think he is and he does use that to his advantage
-slight temperature play when the gunslinger is involved, it's just a little colder than room temperature but it's a very stark contrast
-loves conflicting his speech with his actions; he'll sweet talk and praise you while he's railing you into next week
-speaking of, he'll call you anything but your name. honeybee, honey, darlin', sweet girl/boy/baby, baby girl/boy/doll, any nickname that sounds hot in a southern accent he's callin you
-he absolutely has a daddy kink but won't tell you unless you have one too and approach him first, chances are you're younger than he is and he doesn't wanna make you think he's a weirdo
-all in all, the dirty talk is INSANEEEEEEEE
-absolutely into dumbification, he knows he's smart and he gets off on the power imbalance when you're babbling about nothing and he's still perfectly present
-also slightly into dacryphilia? it's not attractive when you're crying from pain, sadness, frustration, etc but he likes making you feel so good you're overwhelmed and all you can do is cry for him
-might forget to take the helmet and goggles off, but if you want him to keep them on then by all means he will
-would absolutely abide by the cowboy hat rule (if you don't know what that is, basically if a cowboy puts his hat on your head y'all are fuckin' later on)
-very much into bigger people, the extra chub around the thighs, chest, cheek, and stomach areas are a weakness of his
MEDIC!
-the moment we've all been waiting for
-kinda like soldier in the fact that he's mean in a hot way, but it's less bully-mean and more absolutely deranged mean
-of course he's into degradation and medical play, definitely dacryphilia and dumbification (for similar reasons engineer is), another merc with a slight size kink cause medic is big as hell
-likes to get you on the operation table and trace a syringe or scalpel (or both if he's feeling patient [haha get it]) along your body purely for the fear it evokes from you
-wants to get you scared/vulnerable and that's how he starts his foreplay; totally into the whole predator/prey thing but not in the same way sniper is, medic is more into metaphorical or psychological hunting rather than the actual thing
-FAKE SYMPATHY!!!!!! FAKE SYMPATHY!!!!! FAKE SYMPATHY!!!
-teases, edges, and overstimulates you to the point of tears and gets this stupid smug look on his face while cooing at you
-calls you demeaning names, like pet, but he's got some cute ones he uses too; täubchen, maus, schatz, and liebling (dove, mouse, sweetheart, and darling) are very prevalent in and outside of the bedroom
-if you're okay with it, medic does like to use you as a bit of stress relief when everybody else is getting on his nerves
-is 100% down for a doctor/nurse or doctor/patient roleplay let's get real here
-also into semi-public sex, sometimes he'll leave the medbay door unlocked and slightly ajar purpose just to mess with you
-though he is very rough with you most of the time, he likes to save his more tender moments for when the two of you are in an actual bedroom and not his workspace
Sniper:
-wild. like genuinely doesn't know what to do with himself when he's horny he just goes fucking crazy.
-even though he gets crazy insane, he doesn’t really know what all to do and it frustrates him; he doesn't have much experience when it comes to sexual acts with another person involved so please give him some pointers
-absolutely into knife play come on
-if you have a period, he'd also be down for period sex he does not care about blood in the slightest
-isn't all that nickname-heavy like some of the other mercs here, but he does sprinkle them into his dirty talk. it's usually the same things he calls you outside of the bedroom, like 'roo, darl', and love
-into body worship, giving or receiving. he likes making you feel beautiful and he likes feeling good about himself too
-would definitely want you to suck him off while he does target practice and i know this is such a popular headcanon but come on guys
-another popular headcanon is sniper being into predator/prey dynamics which like,,,come on. it's literally perfect. you're telling me this nutcase dude wouldn't be into scaring the shit out of you by physically hunting you down. it's basically canon idc
-likes biting and leaving marks on your neck/shoulders in very visible areas because he's kind of a possessive guy ngl
-as much as he likes people seeing the aftermath of what he does to you, sniper is a very private person so he really wouldn't be all that into sneaky sex. the closest you'll get is his sniper nest while he does target practice on cease-fire days
Spy:
-despite being an asshole on the regular, he's a very attentive lover
-into body worship but only giving, he already knows he's fine and he wants to make sure you're never insecure about yourself
-bilingual babe 😍 speaks in french so much you can't really understand what he's talking about but he's more than happy to give you a translation
-also has a daddy kink let's get real here
-KNIFE PLAY!!!!!!!!!!
-heavily into power play as well, similar to pyro because he'll keep his clothes (including the mask and gloves) on while you're completely bare to him
-likes buying you lingerie
-likes getting and giving head the same amount, he has no real preference cause it's gonna end in sex every time anyway 🤷‍♀️
-french nicknames ONLY!!!! mon cher (my dear), ma chérie/mon chéri (my darling), amour/mon amour (love/my love), gentille fille/garçon/bébé (sweet girl/boy/baby), mon ange (my angel) [currently using my basic understanding of the french language for evil]
-semi-public and public sex spy does not give a fuck he has a cloaking device for a reason 🙄🙄
-if you don't already have one he will give you an accent kink
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jgracie · 12 days
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I KNOW YOU
masterlist | rules
❝ Hello can you do an Athena! Reader Percy Jackson but completely different than Annabeth she is smart yes but seems dumber than she is. She is a bit of the psychologist if the group she like trying to read other emotion something like that. But this time it was Percy who try to understand her and is like a pillar to her. She is a bit insecure about her being less than others of her half brother and sister but he want to reassure her please. ❞ — @hope92100
pairing percy jackson x athena!reader
in which percy’s here regardless of the pain
warnings feelings of insecurity (? idk if this needs a warning but just in case!!)
on the radio . . . i know you (faye webster)
an set during mark of athena!!
As a daughter of Athena, you’ve always been expected to know everything. Whilst others had powers of chlorokinesis or an innate ability to heal, your strength was meant to be your wit. And for the most part, that was true - Athena’s kids have always been the smartest. However, you didn’t feel like you fit in with your half-siblings. No matter what you did, you always felt lesser than them
When you’d first gotten claimed by Athena, you were surprised, but accepted it. You thought maybe the cleverness would kick in now that she recognised you as her daughter, but you stayed the same. Later on, you’d realise that you’ve always had wit, but you were simply absorbing other people’s opinions of you and turning them into your identity. It took you a while to unlearn that habit, but eventually, you did
Your area of expertise has always lied in the feelings of others. Your emotional intelligence is what got you through a lot of life as a demigod, and you had a knack for knowing exactly what a person is going through just by looking at them, always providing comfort and support when needed
Now was one of those times. Your boyfriend, Percy, had been missing for about 6 months, and you were finally about to head off to Camp Jupiter to find him. When you first found out he was gone, you were, of course, devastated. However, you quickly pushed those feelings to the back of your mind once you noticed everyone else. They needed you. So you smiled and you comforted and you told the younger kids of how brave Percy is and how he’ll definitely come back
But to you, it wasn’t enough to just be a shoulder to cry on. When Jason had gotten assigned his first quest, he’d asked Annabeth if she could come along - not you. Despite knowing you’re Percy’s girlfriend, despite knowing that there was a chance of finding him on the quest, he asked Annabeth. You couldn’t help but be a little jealous. Intelligence has always come naturally to your sister and, unlike you, she never doubted herself. She’d rejected his offer, rambling about having her own searches to do, but you saw the pitiful look she cast you
Then, while everyone was preparing to head for San Francisco, you could do nothing but guide them through their emotions and make sure they were all mentally prepared for the voyage. Again, it wasn’t enough. Annabeth was doing research on the Romans with the help of Jason. Leo was building a whole ship. What were you doing? 
Being in Percy’s arms again for the first time in half a year, you never felt more complete. Your boy was back home to you. Deep down, however, you couldn’t help but feel a little guilty. He’d remembered you, out of anyone in his life, you’re the only one who stuck. You didn’t deserve that title, not after you barely did anything to help find him. So, you distanced yourself. Surely, he’d be fine without you
Wrong. Percy noticed. Even though you’d been apart for so long, he’d never not notice any shift in your mood or behaviour. Your very being was etched into his brain. He could point you out in a room full of people without any of his senses. To him, you were akin to the very ocean that ran through his veins. In the end, he’d always gravitate towards you. No matter what. While you pulled away, he tried to tug you towards him
When he’d asked Annabeth if something had happened while he was gone, she’d told him no, and that you were probably just overwhelmed by it all. He tried to accept that, but he just couldn’t. He knew there was more to your situation
That very night, Tyche seemed to be smiling down at him, as he was fortunate enough to finally be able to speak with you alone. You were on the night shift, keeping watch in case any monsters decided to attack. Percy had woken with a start and itched to breathe in the salty air of the sea. When he came above deck, he was surprised to see you, having completely forgotten the schedule everyone agreed on
“Hey Y/N,” he said, startling you as he came over to stand next to you. You’d simply been staring up at the night sky, deep in thought, when your boyfriend showed up
Unable to hold his gaze, you replied, “hi Percy… how are you?” 
He entertained your question, knowing the best way to get you to talk about your feelings is if he created an easy-going environment first. So, Percy told you all about what he’d been up to. His quest with Frank and Hazel, Octavian the teddy bear assassin augur, and the city of New Rome - where he wanted to grow old with you. Next thing you knew, you were laughing as if he were never gone
Once your giggles had died down, Percy asked the question that’d been weighing on his mind, “how are you, sweets? And don’t even try to tell me you’re fine because I know something’s up. What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” 
You knew you wouldn’t be able to hide from Percy any longer. As he held you in his arms, you spilled your deepest insecurities to him. How you felt absolutely useless in the months leading up to your departure from New York, which in turn led you to feel undeserving of his love. With every word, Percy felt the crack in his heart grow deeper and deeper. He never wanted you to feel this way. He wished nothing more than to have been there with you, to have talked your feelings out with you
Pressing a kiss into your hair, he said, “you’re not useless, Y/N. I don’t care what you think, I’m telling you now - you’re not useless. I’d say it for an eternity if that’s how long it’ll take for you to believe it. Do you really think we would’ve gotten this far without you? Honey, if you weren’t part of this quest, I’d still be wandering around Camp Jupiter thinking about when I’d get to see you again.”
You felt tears brim in your eyes and as Percy tenderly wiped them away, you realised he was right. Sure, you hadn’t helped Annabeth learn about the Romans very much, but when she broke down after being hunched over conjugations of different Latin verbs, you’d been there with a blanket and a cup of tea, reminding her that she didn’t need to be perfect and that the people of New Rome probably spoke English anyway. And when Leo was accused of betraying everyone by firing on New Rome, you’d defended him without hesitation, stopping the quest from failing before it even started. You also taught Piper how to properly use her knife instead of just stabbing everywhere and hoping for the best, and had given Leo the idea to take some plates from camp so that food wouldn’t be a worry
Percy stared down at you, and smiled when he noticed your shoulders relax and your eyes begin to droop, a clear sign of the multitude of nights you’d spent restless
There was nothing Hera could possibly do to separate the two of you again
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dresshistorynerd · 1 year
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I think we can all agree that this is dumb, right? Though the title is highly misleading and the quote marks around "ban" do a lot of work here. These companies just no longer requires actresses to wear structural garments. Still a dumb and bad solution to the problem of badly made costumes.
Couple of my issues with the article:
The purpose of the corset or any other similar structural garment wasn't to reduce waist, but to provide support and shape the silhouette. In the article someone from Netflix commented that they shouldn't promote that women should make their waists smaller, apparently it's "bad optics". And from Neflix the main series where corsets are no longer required is Bridgerton, because one of the main actors had bad time with her stays. But if you take just one quick look at the Regency silhouette you will see the waist is far from reduced. Literally there is no waist. Completely covered. They have been doing something terribly wrong if they have made Regency stays that pinch down the waist. Some actors also seem to think the waist is supposed to be reduced all the time. I remember that one actor in HBO's The Gilded Age complained about the corset, but then in the same breath admitted that she had asked the costumers to make it purposefully a little too small so she could be tight-laced all the time (a practice some fashionable rich Victorian women did for high society events, and definitely not all the time). But beyond the inaccuracies in the article, there is an issue here. Structural garments supported the bust yes, but also in many periods they supported the weight of the dress. In 17th and 18th centuries and Victorian Era the skirts of rich women especially had a lot of heavy fabric which would be hard to deal with and move around with, if all the weight is only on the waist. But with a structural garment it distributes the weight to the whole torso, especially on the hips.
A structural garment needs to be fitted well and worn with with a shift underneath. It absolutely can be uncomfortable, create bruising and restrict breathing, if it's not well fitted. If you have ever used too small jeans that contain no spandex at all, you know how nasty the effects can be on the skin. Especially TV sets often have very little time for creating costumes and they might have just one fitting or at tops two or in worst case scenario none at all, which very easily leads to ill fitting costumes. That is a huge issue with structural garments. I've been making transitional short stays for myself and I have never made a garment like that so I'm still struggling fit it well (it's unfinished), and I can say it's not comfortable when it doesn't fit well. I haven't watched Bridgerton but I have seen couple of screencaps of different scenes with characters wearing stays and no shift to be seen anywhere. I really do hope they actually are wearing shifts when they have the full outfits on and just didn't wear them in these scenes for aesthetics or something. Because, yes, that will absolutely give you bruising, if you wear any type of fitted and structured garment against your skin without any fabric between it and the skin, against which the structural garment can slide against. It would be irresponsible to put your actors in such garments without shifts. I don't blame the actors for complaining about the "corsets", since I can believe they are uncomfortable if they are not well fitted or god forbid if they aren't wearing shifts.
I don't know how many times this needs to be said: corsets are not torture devices. While I don't blame the actors for complaining, reading comments like this kills one brain cell every time: "Women existed in that for such a long time, which does give you a lot of sympathy for that time period and what they were going through. For the first month, I couldn’t breathe." I'm sorry, but women literally did physical labour in corsets. They climbed mountains in corsets. (I have a whole post related to this.) Do these people really think so little of women in the past that, if corsets really were torture devices, they would have just endured them quietly for centuries? Of course the most fashionable clothing in a lot of the periods were uncomfortable and hard to move in, even restrictive, but those were the court gowns and ball gowns the young fashionable elite wore for the special evening occasions to show off to the high society. But does that really differ from today? If you look at the MET galas and stuff, do these actors really claim the outfits are comfortable? The everyday clothing and the clothing of the working class was fairly comfortable, and yes, they all wore corsets.
Yes, you can make properly fitted, comfortable supportive garments for costumes in any production. The proof is in opera. Opera singers wear corsets in a lot of productions. I have read many accounts by opera singers who talk about how their corsets are well fitted and actually makes singing easier, because you can "lean" on the corset (I don't know anything about singing, but that's what I have seen them say). Also they tend to wear those large and heavy period dresses and as alluded earlier moving on them on stage without corset would be very hard. Singing also would be harder as the singers could easily become breathless from moving the heavy dress without using the muscles on the whole body. Operas have much smaller budget than these big tv and movie productions, so there's really zero excuses for making badly fitting corsets.
So yes, it's dumb, it's inaccurate and kinda infuriating. But it's also actually pretty sinister. The issue isn't actors wearing corsets for many hours, that's what people have done for ages and still do in re-enactments, opera etc. The issue is that there's too little time for fitting and sewing the corsets in modern tv and movie production. And this is part of a much broader issue. Costume designers and makes are unionized in Hollywood and for a while now Hollywood studios have tried to cut the amount of unionized behind the scenes labour they employ.
Making profit from a movie or a tv show is not good enough anymore. Now productions that don't "perform as expected" are seen as flops. The production companies make predictions of profit and green light projects they have calculated to make most profit, and if they don't make that high profit, it's a flop and it won't get the planned sequel or the next season. To achieve those high profits they also do everything they can to lower the production costs, and one way is by employing as little unionized labour, to whom you have to pay fair wages, as possible. So costume departments are then very often understaffed and they have way too little time to produce the costumes in proper quality. This can be seen very blatantly in the clear drop in quality of movie costuming during the past couple of decades. So the reducing of structural garments in costumes seems like yet another attempt to reduce unionized labour disguised as feminism.
Obviously the good and smart solution to the problem of uncomfortable structural garments is to hire enough costumers for long enough time so they can have multiple fittings and make them better.
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maryrouille · 6 days
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It's Amy Winehouse, but with female rage. About Back to Black (dir. Sam Taylor-Johnson) 2024
Recently, a film telling the life story of the British singer Amy Winehouse was released. I came here to talk a little about the aesthetics of this film, which, by the way, cannot be accused of poor music (Marisa Abela sings Amy's songs in her own voice and she does it brilliantly!) or ugly shots.
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In the film we see the transformation from a rebellious teenager with a guitar into an emotionally and behaviorally unstable woman (without a guitar). Of course, this turn of events could have been reflected in Amy's real life, but one gets the impression that the film is set in a different time. It feels like the 2000s have been filtered, sugar-coated, and embedded somewhere in the 2024 aesthetic of angry girlbloggers on Tumblr.
Romanticizing drinking alcohol and mental instability
You probably know the tendencies related to #just girly things and the explanation of all depressive states and tantrums by just being a girl. It is a kind of expression of the life and consciousness of today's young girls living in the rather unoptimistic times of social media and consumerism. But is this aesthetic good for Amy's story? It seems to me that romanticizing alcohol, drugs and blind love leading to complete self-loss and ultimately death is a poor approach.
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And while watching the film you definitely feel that something is wrong, but at the same time you fall into this beautified world. Amy's life was darker and more brutal, and her problems were not only limited to matters of the heart, glass and flashbulbs of cameras. Unfortunately, living with addictions is dirty and disgusting. And you can't put a bow on it. But it seems to be a sign of our times.
You Know I'm No Good (song)
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Adding the ending to this song title: but I'm not going to rehab. And here we should ask the question about the level of public awareness in 2008 (the year when Amy received five Grammy Awards) and today. In 2024, acceptance and knowledge about all behavioral therapies, addiction treatment and toxic relationships is much greater. And Back to Black, under the guise of nice outfits, make-up and a few minor falls, gives the impression of being up-to-date.
Will someone watch this movie and say they want to live like Amy (just like it was with Coppola's Priscilla)? This is quite possible, because in the end we get the image of a slightly rebellious femme fatale and a slightly weak girl who is harmed by others. And many of us would fit this description.
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Live fast, die young, be wild and have fun (song)
Finally, I have to quote Lana del Rey, because today's girl blogging draws from her in handfuls. Is joining the 27 Club really that romantic? The departure of such young people from the world is primarily a tragedy, which later becomes a beautiful myth. That's why it's worth mentioning Lana's example here. She uses aesthetics very well and, above all, separates moving around motifs and drawing visual inspiration from them from real life.
To sum up, movie Back to Black is really worth seeing. However, it is also worth being aware that this is a colorful fiction for 2024 built around the true story of Amy Winehouse.
Edit 24/04/24: I have to mention the update here. I just came across an article from British Vogue that confirms my thesis about drawing inspiration from image of Amy (also Kate Moss, so heroin chic is back in fashion?) Quoting a fragment of the article:
The legacy of Winehouse also lives on in Back to Black, due for release on 12 April. (...) While we’re in no way condoning or glorifying the hobbies of Winehouse and her erstwhile friend Doherty, there was a scene during that time and a smudgy, smeary aesthetic that somehow worked.
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sundrop-writes · 5 months
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Shared Trauma
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Sub!Gar Logan x Dom!Fem!Reader
Summary:
Gar had a very hard day. You know you can’t take away the pain, so you try your best to distract him from it instead.
Sub!Gar Logan x Dom!Fem!Reader. Friends to Lovers. Smut and Angst. Set during Season 1, Episode 7.
Word Count: 3,600
DC Titans Masterlist | AO3 Link
THIS IS A RE-POST. This is a fic from my old blog (a blog that was shadowbanned, forcing me to move). This fic is not stolen, it is completely mine, and I am just re-posting it to help people find my new blog, and to make my masterlist complete when I post new fics for this fandom.
Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.
Warnings: some emotional angst, mentions of trauma/PTSD - Gar kills someone for the first time and is very upset about it (as in the canon), friends to lovers, takes place during Season 1 Episode 7 (“Asylum”), descriptions of canon level violence, this is a smut fic, the reader character is implied to be fat, the reader character uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina, this isn’t a hard sub/dom relationship but there is sub/dom undertones, Gar is more submissive and the reader is more dominant, the reader calls Gar ‘good boy’ and he really likes it, tiddy sucking, p in v sex, unprotected sex, the reader rides Gar, creampie, quick/desperate sex. I believe that’s everything. Most of the focus here is on the emotional side of things and not the smut so if you wanna see more PWP, definitely let me know.
A/N: fic is titled after a Pierce The Veil song because I have been obsessed with the new album, and I think it really fits here. Having a trauma with someone, but it just draws you closer together and makes you seek comfort in them. I did consider making up a mission that wasn’t in the canon for this, but I am always drawn to how sad, wet, and pathetic he is after killing the scientist, especially if we’re doing sub!Gar - he seems especially subby and in need of comfort.
...
When you woke up alone, you weren’t entirely surprised. 
Of course you missed Gar’s presence beside you in bed. But you hadn’t exactly expected him to be sleeping peacefully after the day the two of you had. 
You and Gar were always the type of best friends to share a bed. Both of you sought the kind of comfort that could only come from cuddling close to the warm body of a safe person. Most often, you could only fall asleep beside each other. 
It had been that way since he had first been taken in by Doctor Caulder and he had come to you for comfort after he had woken up sorely missing his parents. On that first night, you had fallen asleep cradling him, and pretty much every night since then, the two of you shared a bed without question. 
The two of you were just intensely affectionate people, and you saw nothing wrong with expressing your friendship through those simple touches. It was just friendly, after all. 
The two of you always hugged each other tight and held hands while walking in public. There were many times when Gar put his arm around you or kissed you on the forehead, or times when you kissed him on the cheek. You weren’t shy about expressing your very platonic love for your best friend (at least, that’s what you had to tell yourself). 
The two of you weren’t romantically involved - you were just very close best friends. 
No matter what others thought when they looked at you, having those stereotypes in their minds about a guy and girl not being able to be ‘just friends’. Even if you wanted to play into that stereotype so badly with him - even if you wanted all of those people to be right. You would never risk ruining your friendship with him just because of some annoying crush. You were very good at keeping all of your stupid feelings trapped inside of your chest. 
Especially on days like this. When life got hardest, he needed you to be there more as a friend than anything else. And you needed him too. 
It was one of the reasons that he had gotten into bed with you that night, despite the fact that he scoffed at the very mention of trying to sleep. He wanted to be there for you. So you really weren’t surprised when you woke up and the bed was cold, void of his presence. Because of course, he couldn’t sleep. 
It had been a long, hectic, shitty day. 
After everything that had happened, you weren’t even really ‘sleeping’ yourself. 
You were drifting on the edge of consciousness, so exhausted from the day that your body was trying to forcibly knock you out. Between Kory and Dick screwing loudly on one side and Rachel and her birth mother chattering brightly and even crying on the other side, you had been having a very hard time falling asleep. That, and the horrors of the day still flashing through your mind. It made for a deadly cocktail that kept you awake. If not for the pure exhaustion of day’s events weighing you down - then you probably wouldn’t have closed your eyes at all. 
When you came back into a hard consciousness this time, though, you missed the feeling of Gar’s arm around your waist. You instantly missed the feeling of his pleasant warmth at your back - cradling you, making you feel safe. 
Before you even had your fully eyes open, you were out of bed yourself. It was almost an instinct, being so entirely drawn to him. You wandered out to the larger living space of the very expensive condo ‘safehouse’ with your socked feet on the cold floor. You clutched at your own arms under the loose sleeves of your oversized sleep shirt as goosebumps formed on your skin. 
You wondered in the back of your mind what the weather was like outside and if Dick had turned on the heat before going to bed. Then you had to wonder if adjusting the thermostat was even a concern in anyone’s mind after such a long day. It was probably only on your mind now that you were missing your human heater. 
You found Gar sitting on the couch. 
He had his oversized green headphones on, his phone screen providing the only real light in the room - aside from the everpresent glow of the city that leaked in from the tall glass panels that could be called walls in the ultra modern house. He was holding the screen inches away from his face as he slumped back against the unused couch. 
He was likely making an imprint of himself that would be the only ‘lived in’ essence of the overwhelming cold, expensive atmosphere of the place. From the sideways tilt of the screen and the way his thumbs were moving, you easily guessed that he was playing some kind of game. Something to distract his mind from the day’s events still playing there on repeat like a bad movie. 
He was wearing a pair of sweatpants that Dick had given him, dug out of a drawer of clothing that was apparently always kept in the place in case a need for it should come up. Just something else the ‘safehouse’ stocked, like food, medical supplies, and monetary currency from all different countries (because Bruce was rich and paranoid enough to be prepared for ‘any scenario’). 
Gar had paired the pants with one of your tee shirts. 
Something that was slightly big on him even with his natural muscle mass filling it out, bright tie-dye and worn-in cotton. It was purely you. Having the fabric draped over his body did make him feel at least somewhat at ease because it was soaked in your natural smell. It made him feel close to you even when he had gotten out of bed. 
He hadn’t wanted to bother you with his tossing and turning or the bright glowing light of his phone screen when he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep properly. 
He felt your presence in the room, but he didn’t look up until you crept further toward him, steering into his hazy peripheral view. He shrugged off the headphones as he looked up, locking eyes with you over the top of his phone. Your heart ached as you saw that expression so well illuminated by the sharp white light from the screen. He had the face of a kicked puppy, big wide eyes staring you down. Especially because he was making a clear effort not to let his mouth curl into a deep whimpering frown. 
You knew that the events of the day had been particularly hard on him. 
Of course, there was the obvious. The mental exhaustion and fear of being kidnapped and held hostage. The pulsating adrenaline of wondering if he was going to come out alive, on top of the worry he felt for you, Rachel, Dick, and Kory. The intense physical torture he had suffered at the hands of ‘scientists’ controlled by a doomsday cult. 
But on top of all of it, he had experienced something far worse. Something that you knew was far more taxing on his mind. 
He had killed someone for the first time. 
You feared that he was too gentle for killing. Even with the amazing power he wielded. 
Gar - someone who protested eating meat because he hated the idea of an animal being harmed for the sake of his nutrition. Gar - someone who always scooped up spiders and household pests to bring them outside because in his opinion, even the smallest of creatures deserve peace. 
You knew that he was someone who never planned on using his powers to truly harm anyone. 
But the moment the choice had been presented to him - to use his powers to harm someone, or to let you be harmed - it hadn’t really been a choice in his mind at all. 
You had been backed into a corner. You thought you had been clever, breaking out of the room they had locked you in with nothing more than an earring as a lockpick. But without a weapon and without a plan, Gar saw them threatening you and became blind with rage. 
Before he truly knew what was happening, he tasted flesh. 
A very large part of him didn’t regret it. He would choose your life over the life of someone unknown - someone who was going to hurt you - any day of the week. He knew that, if given the same choice, he would do it all over again. 
But there was another part inside of him that kept gnawing with guilt. Another part that said he was wrong, that said there should have been some other way. Something inside of him that said he was now just the villain in someone else’s story - that he wasn’t any better than the people who tried to hurt you in the first place. 
In a lot of ways, that voice said, he was worse than them. 
That voice made it difficult for him to sleep. 
“Can’t sleep?” You hummed out, approaching the couch to come and sit beside him. 
Gar did little more than shrug in response to the question. He didn’t want to admit the weakness aloud. He didn’t want to tell you that he was warring with guilt over something that the others - especially you - didn’t seem to struggle with. 
You both already knew the answer. It had been a hard day for him. Of course sleep was far beyond his grasp. 
In a silent, but comfortable exchange, Gar locked his phone and set it aside, entirely uncaring of saving his progress in the game while you sat down beside him. You slid onto the couch with your butt half nestled on top of his hip and your legs strung across his lap. He reached one arm in front of you, draping it over the thickness of your thighs. In a very natural move, he lazily wrapped his knuckles around your bare skin. 
Neither of you bothered to acknowledge your lack of pants - the fact that you were only wearing underwear with your oversized sleep shirt. You were so used to each other at this point that casual states of undress didn’t really need to be acknowledged. 
He drew mindless patterns into your skin with his thumb and slung his other arm over the back of the couch, bringing you into his lovely natural warmth. You laid your head onto his chest, easily cuddling into his side as you indulged in the familiarity. With his phone turned off, the darkness ruminating through the room was a silent cloak that enveloped the two of you. It made it much easier to fall into that routine of comfort that the two of you always embraced. 
You would explicitly deny that his touch on your bare skin felt like a deadly trail of needles erupting with fire - in the best way possible. Now was not the time for your lust to be breaking through. He was your best friend, and he was clearly in need of comfort. 
“I missed my human heater.” You mumbled out quietly, nuzzling into his side affectionately. 
He let out a hazy breath - some attempt at a laugh in response to your affectionate nickname for him. It was something he knew well about your friendship. You had a constantly chilly body, and he would always be there to warm you up with his blazen hot skin. Just another perk from his mutation - even when he got stuck out in the snow, he never ran cold. 
Now that you had acknowledged that wordless question (the reason you had gotten out of bed, why you couldn’t sleep), it was Gar’s turn to do the same. 
It hung in the air over his head and turned into a stony silence in the quiet, dark room that made each of his breaths seem particularly heavy beside your ear. It was a tension that built upon itself for a few moments. You weren’t going to ask, even though you had a feeling you virtually already knew the answer. You wondered if he was going to come out and admit it before you simply dragged him back to bed and forced him to stay there out of your own selfish need. 
But then he finally broke the silence by saying the words. 
“Whenever I close my eyes… I just keep seeing his face.” 
His words were tentative, a quiet whimper released into the room after being trapped in his chest for too long. Like electricity, shocking and impossible to avoid, you felt his pain surging through you. It caused your throat to clench painfully. You shifted slightly, turning so that you could get a better look at his face. Even in the dimness, the sad glassiness of his eyes practically glowed. 
“Gar,” 
You called out his name, your own voice giving away a depth of weakness that you held for him. Before you could help it, you were reaching up and cradling the side of his face with a cupped palm. Even though your hands were cool, the feeling was intensely comforting to him - just because it was you. He couldn’t help but lean into it, leaning on your hand as though it was the only thing in the world holding him up in that moment. When he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to force some of that terrible guilt away, he accidentally forced the tears out and let them leak freely onto your hand. 
“Oh, baby.” You cooed out. 
You were entirely unsure why the nickname popped out. The sound of it on your own lips even surprised you. It was something you had never called him before. But he didn’t stop you, didn’t seem to find it unpleasant, so you continued. 
“You did what you had to do.” You told him with certainty. “You saved my life.” 
That was something infinitely valuable to him. But he wondered if somehow, he had diminished his own value in the process. 
More thick tears slipped down his face and you thumbed them away upon instinct. He swallowed thickly before he spoke again, though this time his words were heavily entrenched in those tears. 
“What if that man had a family?” Gar sniffled quietly. “What if-?” 
“Of course he had a family, Gar.” You quickly cut him off, knowing that his words were quickly spiraling into a deep, putrid guilt. 
That guilt was definitely something you felt the need to save him from. 
Upon hearing your words, he looked at you with sharp hurt in his eyes. Clearly, he had been expecting you to argue against his point, rather than confirm it. But you had a completely different line of thinking in mind.
“Everyone does.” You continued on. “Everyone has people who miss them. But you can’t waste your sympathy on some fictional family you’ve made up for the guy in your head. Having a family and being missed doesn’t give people the right to attack others and get away with it. The possibility of being missed doesn’t mean that people can go through life without seeing the consequences of their actions.” 
Gar let out a quiet huff. It was a sound of defeat - a signal saying that your words had punctured his surface, but hadn’t quite set in yet. 
When he didn’t say anything in reply, you continued. 
“You’re my family.” You told him firmly. 
You used the hold on his cheek to fully turn his head toward yours, and you gently angled into him so that your foreheads were pressed together. Gar closed his eyes and basked in the soothing feeling as you continued talking. 
“And I’m yours. And I really, truly don’t care about who lives or dies outside of us. I don’t care what happens as long as we’re safe. And we’re together.” 
You wanted to add on a verbal exception for the others - for Rachel, and Dick, and Kory, and likely Rachel’s mom just for her sake. An exception for the people who had quickly also become your family in the short time since you had met them. But you had a feeling that Gar knew about this exception in your mind without you having to voice it. 
Gar swallowed hard again, and this time you felt it bob harshly through him while pressed so closely together. You felt him let out a harsh breath before he spoke again. 
“I guess… I guess I’m just worried about what you think of me now.” He spoke the words so quietly, as if his fear even crept into voicing this. “I don’t want my favorite person in the world to be afraid of me. Or… to think I’m a bad person.” 
“I’m not afraid of you.” You quickly argued the point, a slight laughter on your lips at the mere thought of it - at the mention of being afraid of someone like him. 
Yes, he could turn into a giant green tiger, and yes, seeing him use that power to its full extent for the first time had been… jarring. But you would never be afraid of someone who cried during Pixar movies and said it was ‘inhumane’ to kill the animals in Minecraft for food. 
“I could never be afraid of you, Gar.” You easily added on. “You’re not a bad person. You’re such a good person. You’re so good. You’re such a good boy.” 
Those words struck a cord deep within his soul, and a whimper escaped his lips before he could stop it. 
“Say that again.” He told you, so pitifully that it almost sounded like begging. “Please?” 
“You’re such a good boy.” You repeated yourself, running your thumb along the soft skin of his cheek once again. “You’re a good boy, Gar.” 
In a moment, the air shifted. 
The magnetism between the two of you came to a fierce head, and the desperation, the vulnerability that the day’s events had brought forward morphed itself from pain and sadness into something the two of you knew well in the presence of each other - pure wanting. But this time, both of you were exhausted and completely lacking the energy to have any self control to hold it back. 
“Y/N-” 
He barely got out a whimper of your name before you pressed forward that extra inch, stealing his breath as you pressed your lips to his. It was a perfect moment - a beautiful culmination of everything you had ever wanted since meeting him. You definitely weren’t going to waste it. 
He moaned into the kiss and you echoed it back, gulping in breaths through your nose so you wouldn’t have to pull away from the soft cushion of his lips, not even for a moment. When he reached for a greedy grip on the back of your head, filthy and wanting, gently nibbling on your bottom lip - your instincts took over. You blindly swung a leg out, climbing over his waist, and he let out a sharp hiss at the feeling of your weight being planted in his lap. You were beautiful and whole as you sat down on top of him, a perfect reminder that this wasn’t just a dream as his cock quickly swelled to life under the heat of your core where it brushed against his borrowed pants. 
“Please-” He whimpered into your mouth, barely able to get the word out before you sucked his bottom lip into your mouth, making him moan out shakily in the most beautiful way. 
You planted your hands on his shoulders, easily taking control of the situation - not that he cared. He felt like he belonged under your controlling grip, under the pleasant weight of your body as his hard cock throbbed underneath your perfect weight. In a blur of heady kisses, swapping breath with the only man you had ever wanted like this, you got your underwear off and got his pants around his ankles. He shoved your shirt up over your breasts to possessively latch onto one of them with his mouth as you reached down and lined up his pulsing cock with your wet, wanting cunt. 
“Oh-” 
He let out another beautifully pathetic whimper as you sunk down onto him in one smooth movement. Your tight, wet heat quickly surrounded him and made his head spin. You felt so full that it almost choked you, but the hot pangs of electricity that shot up through your pussy easily spurred you on. You wasted no time before you began a brutal pace, bouncing on his lap as if he was nothing more than a toy for your own pleasure. The slap of skin on skin was irritably loud in the otherwise silent room, accompanied only by Gar’s harsh, animalistic pants and your choked-off moans as you struggled to comprehend the fullness of his nearly overwhelming cock. 
You both needed it. You needed the intense sting of pleasure to push out the worries of the day. 
With Gar’s hands gripping at your waist as if you might slip away at any moment and his face buried in your breasts, you almost didn’t hear the quiet murmur of his request when he managed to get the words out beyond that blinding pleasure. 
“Say it again,” He choked out past his harsh breaths. “Please!” 
It took your cock-drunk brain a moment to comprehend it, but when the gears fully churned, you instantly knew what he meant. 
“You’re a good boy,” 
You moaned out, reaching a hand up to pet through his hair. You took a fierce grip on those green locks, never once faltering in the harsh, unforgiving rhythm of your hips as you continued to piston yourself up and down on his cock. 
“You’re a good boy, Gar.” 
“Oh - fuck!” Gar grunted into your chest. 
At the sound of your voice saying this, declaring that he was a good boy - he abruptly came inside you.
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theresattrpgforthat · 11 days
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Any games about cross-country racing or just racing in general? I've had this setting with this grand race for riders of fantasy creatures and its rough trying to find a game that fits it.
THEME: Racing Games.
Hello friend, so I have some good news and some bad news for you. The good news is that I found a number of racing games! The bad news is that all of the games I found are built with the expectation that you are racing machines, not creatures. I don’t think that makes these games completely non-viable, but pretty much all of them will probably need a little bit of re-wording or hacking in order to become games about racing living things.
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SUPERSTARS Racing Icons, by Tristan B Willis.
The air screams around your helmet as you hurtle past the final turn and towards the finish line. Your best friend looks to make a pass that could take both of you out. Do you play it safe and risk losing, or play for glory and risk everything? 
Welcome to Superstars: Racing Icons.
Trophies are nice, but racing careers are short and you’re here to build something that lasts. Is that a rabid group of loyal fans who follow your every move? A list of sponsors willing to keep you comfortable long after your racing days? Or just one meaningful connection with a teammate, a rival, a friend, a lover? 
The designers expect you to translate this game into a setting that works for you, but plenty of the language expects elements like sponsors, a PR team, and vehicle terminology. The game is GM-less and comes with a menu of backgrounds, which define your character’s narrative role in the race.
Because Superstars is a Firebrands game, instead of freeform play the group instead moves through a series of scenes, embodied through various mini-games. This means that this game is well-built for telling some kinds of stories, but not others. Much of the game is about the tension between the riders; the races are simply methods through which you can explore that tension.
If you want a game that is focused on the spectacle of the race as much as it is on the race itself, you might want to take a look at Superstars: Racing Icons.
Speedway Showdown, by Bammax Games.
Speedway Showdown is an ultralight, GMless minigame for two players that aims to quench your need for speed! Built on Cezar Capacle's Push SRD, Speedway Showdown begs you to put the pedal to the metal and take risks to walk away with the glory. Take a single turn on the tracks and reap a lone victory, or form your own circuit with your friends and race for the top of the ranks!
This is a business card rpg, so it’s very simple and therefore probably pretty easy to hack. Instead of damage to your car, your creature might get wounded or spooked, and you can replace mechanical benefits to reasons why your creature might suddenly get a boost of speed. This is also GM-less, so everyone can throw their hat in the ring for the title!
The game is probably going to be over pretty quickly, since there’s not much to it, so this would be a good set of rules to couch within a larger game.
Ghost Kart Racers, by kumada1.
Lord Aoyama was your master. He wronged you and killed you, but in doing so he made two mistakes.
He angered your spirit.
And he left an unsecured motor-kart in his stable.
Ghost Kart Racing is a 20 page supernatural racing trpg in which you shred rubber, use power-ups, and unhinge your entire face to devour the man who wronged you.
This is a multiplayer game that relies on different sided dice to represent your Kart (or perhaps, in your case, your Steed). You take turns flicking your dice towards a finish line, with the goal of hitting it exactly, with falling short being considered just as bad as overshooting. The game also comes with extras for customizing your racers, creating custom tracks, and adding Charms that change how your vehicles work.
I think the rules for this game can definitely be separated from the story that the designer has introduced, and the idea of having different steeds with different strengths may make sense if each racer is riding a different creatures. You could re-tool the charms into abilities that different fantasy creatures might have, such as a glowing body part or the ability to jump over low obstacles. The game also has optional skills that represent your character’s abilities outside of racing, which you could change to reflect what your characters might need to be good at when they’re not out on the race track.
Dirt Eaters and Grid Beef, by e.a.
DIRT EATERS is a dice game where players compete to see who can get the best score driving their cars through dangerous tracks! Players build the tracks through dice rolls, ranking each sector on a scale from 1-5. Rolling six sided dice, players have to get a number of successes equal to the difficulty of each sector to score a point. The more dice you use, the harder you're driving, and the more damage your car takes! Replenish your dice by 'repairing' your car between stages. It's a game of resource management, strategy, and a little bit of luck!
GRID BEEF is a roleplaying game about racing. In this game, players will be racing cars against one another in a series of events across the world. In between races, they'll form friendships, clash with bitter rivals, and be submerged in the world of politics and drama that comes with racing at a world championship level. Sometimes, the biggest drama happens off the track!
Both of these games follow the same core mechanic, in which a number of d6’s are rolled and the results over a certain number are counted as successes. While DIRT EATERS focuses on damage and hazards, GRID BEEF is more about the relationships between the racers, and how you interact with people affect your performance on the track. I think the core rules can work on their own, and the outside elements are examples on what can affect the race depending on what is important to you. In both cases, there’s probably a good amount of hacking and home-brew that you’ll have to do, but the benefit of looking at both of these is that you can see examples of how the core game can be re-tooled to focus on elements that matter to you.
Love by the Quarter Mile, by Dice Monkey.
Rev your engine and prepare to fire the NOS. In Love by the Quarter-Mile, you play as a street racer trying to make it while fighting for family. This one-page tabletop RPG is quick and dirty, providing you with everything you need to use to play games in the same vein as Fast and Furious and Gone in 60 Seconds.
This is another short game that I think can be very easily hacked to turn this game into a game about racing animals, rather than racing cars. You can replace the car tags with animal tags to differentiate the creatures that you are riding. However, being fast isn’t the only asset you have here - the game is also about fighting and personal relationships. You can fight rivals or other characters, and the rules are loose enough that you could use fists, or weapons that match your setting. You can also have arguments that can tax your emotions, so if there are personal stakes in the competition, you can enjoy some hair-raising drama in between each race.
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Gravity RIP, by lukewestaway.
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watchmegetobsessed · 2 years
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POWER COUPLE
A/N: i've had this idea stuck on my mind all week so had to write it! also, im not sure if wearing a doctoral title as a lawyer is common in other places but it is in my country so for the sake of the story lets pretend it is everywhere lol
WORD COUNT: 1k
SUMMARY: You're an independent and strong woman and Harry loves that about you. He won't let anyone belittle you by dropping your doctoral title.
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Harry has never met a more confident and independent woman that you. Partially it’s what swept him off his feet when he first met you six years ago, still working on your degree. The way you took no shit from anyone, stepped up for yourself no matter what and could solve any and every problem that way thrown your way, Harry has been admiring you since day one. You never needed anyone to be complete, let alone a man, so he took it as a gift and a privilege that you chose him to be your partner.
He was there by your side when you earned your doctoral title, finishing law school with exceptional grades and on top of your class. He was the first one to welcome you as Dr. Y/N Y/L/N after your graduation and he couldn’t be prouder of the woman you’d become in front of his eyes.
When marriage came up between the two of you, he wasn’t surprised how clear ideas you had about what you wanted and didn’t want.
“Don’t take it personal, but I don’t want to take your last name,” you told him. He remembers it as if it happened yesterday. He proposed to you just a week before that and you were flipping through a wedding magazine as the two of you were chilling on the big orange couch you chose for the living room. At first Harry didn’t think it would fit in the room, but as always, you were right and it’s still one of his favorite furniture in your shared home.
Your leg was across his lap, one of his hands on your knee, the other one holding his phone as he scrolled through some emails.
“I’m not taking it personal,” he smiled and that was the truth. “Just curious why.”
“Because I worked hard for my title and I earned it as Y/N Y/L/N. I want it to be fully mine and I also think it’s a bit outdated for women to take the man’s surname,” you simply reasoned and Harry expected no less from you. A straight and clear answer he could not argue with.
Therefore, when the two of you got married a little less than a year later, no names were changed. However the rest of the world didn’t seem to understand or care for the choice you made, because on a daily basis you get referred to as Y/N Styles. Wrong surname and lack of title.
You always correct others when they call you Y/N Styles and Harry does the same. At this point you’re expecting it whenever you have a public appearance, which doesn’t happen that often. You have your own career and Harry has his own. Whenever he wants you there with him, needs your support you’re more than happy to, but essentially he is the main character in his story. He gives you the same support, as a lawyer you’re fighting to make the world greener, a cause that was always close to your heart and though with Harry’s name you could basically reach the stars, he only interferes with your cases when you ask him to, which doesn’t happen often. You want to reach your goals on your own and work for them as hard as you can.
You’re truly a power couple, though Harry often jokes that you give seventy percent of the power in the relationship.
Tonight is Harry’s night. It’s the Grammy’s and his latest album, Harry’s House was nominated as well as your husband himself for an award and there was no question in him that he wants his wife there with him on the red carpet.
Standing in line, waiting to step out to the carpet you fix Harry’s jacket, he’s wearing a bright yellow set with flower pattern all over, his pants are held up by a vintage belt which has a giant strawberry in the front and of course, he has no shirt on, flashing his chiseled chest to the public. Your dress matches the yellow tone, but it’s definitely not a statement piece, giving him all the attention, though he couldn’t stop raving about how good you look in it when you first showed it to him.
“Nervous?” you ask him with a soft smile, your hand returning to hold his.
“Not when you’re with me,” he answers and your heart still swoons whenever he flirts with you like this, no matter that you’re married.
“Alright, rockstar,” you chuckle.
At the beginning of the carpeted aisle there’s a woman holding up signs with the names of the celebrities entering the line. It’s nothing new, you’re used to it, it helps photographers keep track of who they are shooting currently. However as the two of you step out to the red carpet and take your first pose, you notice what’s written on the little board in the woman’s hands.
Harry Styles and Y/N Styles.
You choose not to comment on it or make a big deal out of it. Tonight is Harry’s night and you wouldn’t take the attention away from him, so you just keep smiling. But Harry spots it too and he doesn’t let it slide.
“H?” you ask when he slips out of your hold and walks over to the woman.
“Does anyone have a pen?” he asks around, the photographers keep shooting the interaction as someone hands him a marker. He asks for the board and with a swift movement he crosses out the Styles surname in your name and replaces it with your real family name, then adds Dr. at the front before handing it back to the woman.
Harry Styles and Dr. Y/N Y/L/N, reads the sign now as Harry returns to by your side as if nothing happened.
“Thank you, baby,” you whisper, giving his waist a gentle squeeze.
“My wife is super cool and smart and a badass lawyer, want to show that off,” he smiles down at you and though you’re not a fan of PDA at public events, you can’t stop yourself from stealing a quick kiss that of course gets photographed a million times in those two seconds by the press.
The moment makes headlines by the morning along with your husband winning every Grammy he was nominated for, strengthening your status as a power couple once again.
Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!
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pudding-parade · 1 year
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Louisiana by MURPHTHESURF
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"But Pudding," you say, "why do I need another swamp world when I have Twinbrook?" To which I say, "Because this one is better."
It's an unpopulated 1024x1024 world, with about 60 total lots, fairly evenly split between residential and community lots. It has a lot of spawners, particularly rock/gem ones, but it has all of them except the Island Paradise and Into the Future ones. Despite the name of the world, I don't think it particularly looks like Louisiana, other than it has lots of water/wetlands. There are lots of fog emitters. You can almost smell the methane.
The lots are either EA lots (possibly edited; I'm not familiar enough with them to judge) or ones that the creator downloaded from other creators and then placed in the world. In particular, many of the lots were created by ruthless_kk, who creates very nice, very detailed, cc-free lots. The creator has meshed the lots together pretty well, so that the world feels cohesive even though the lots came from many different sources. And the scenery that the creator built is lovely.
The world has no CC. As far as I can tell, the Store content that it has is mostly in the lots created by ruthless_kk, and it's all just decorative stuff, so if you don't have it, it's probably not a big deal. Beyond that, I'm pretty sure it requires all EPs except Into the Future. It also needs the Town Life stuff pack because it uses the gym lot from that pack, so if you don't have that pack, that lot will have the wrong windows, and the equipment will be replaced with base game stuff, etc. If you don't have that pack and don't want to fix the lot, you could just plunk down a different gym instead.
There's more pics and info behind the cut, but first: As usual, the title of this post is a link to the world's incredibly useless Exchange page. If you'd rather not deal with the Exchange/the launcher/sims3packs, I have upload a .world file here. If you download the .world file it goes in your game install files under GameData - Shared - NonPackaged - Worlds.
First up, some Edit Town/map view pics of the world. Each set shows roughly half of the world.
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Basically, one half is the more "urban" part and the other half is more rural. So, you can have your sim live in one of the Late Night apartments in the city part. Or they can live in a nice little farm like this one...
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...which is set up as a winery. Or they can live in lovely Victorian/Second Empire house like the one in the pic above the cut, of which there are several in the world. Or they can live in...
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...a swamp shack, complete with its own dumpster and a bayou "beach" in the back. Or they can live in...
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...an ultra-modern place? Yeah, there are two such lots and while they are very nice lots, I don't think they fit in all that well. If I was playing the world I'd replace them. But, if you like ultra-modern houses, there you are.
The world doesn't have an abundance of houses, but the houses that it has are all fully furnished and ready to go, and there are definitely enough of them to get you started. There are a number of empty lots, particularly in two areas of the world that are somewhat unfinished. There are also areas where it would be easy to add new lots. All of which you might want to do because the world has only two lots that are starter-priced, and the swamp shack above is not one of them. The lot on the right side of this pic is one of them:
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So, if you aren't as liberal with the free real estate cheat as I am, you might need more starter lots. But if you are liberal with free real estate, here are a few more of your options:
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And here are a few non-EA community lots:
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This is a dive bar with a junkyard theme, complete with junk piles in back. (There is an actual junkyard, too.) It has a professional bar, seating, and shuffleboard. Other entertainment in the world includes a a disco, a fusion lounge, and a dance club. It does have the "event center" from Showtime but no other Showtime venues, so those would need to be added if you want to play the Showtime careers.
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This is a nectary, though it's designated as a small park. It has all the grape plants, a little place for weddings, nectar sales, a nectar-making machine, and a "restaurant" with a food register and a buffet table. I'm pretty sure this lot is placed backwards, though, because the back of it faces the road. I don't know if this was done deliberately, but I think it would look better flipped around.
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This is a little comic shop, in a more unfinished section of the city part of the world. It has the science objects from University Life on the top floor.
Other community lots in the world are:
Festival (the Sunset Valley one)
A Chinese garden
A fire station
A gym
A consignment shop
A small resort
A salon
Several parks/fishing spots, including the butterfly dome from Bridgeport
So, there are some common lot types missing -- a beach, a library, a public pool, etc. -- but since there are a good number of empty lots in the world, these could be added, whether you build them yourself or plop down EA or downloaded ones.
Overall, this is a nice world. Parts of it are unfinished with some empty lots placed but not much else. There are some lots that have community designations but are empty. (For instance, there's a lot designated as a public pool, but it's empty.) But the scenery is quite beautiful, and if you need a smallish, ready-to-play world, this might be one for you, especially if you happen to like Victorian-style houses.
We'll finish off with some more scenery pics, because it's a pretty world.
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sourpatchys · 1 month
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A wip that I never finished because I need to get back on that writing grind instead of rotting in bed
Title: Petals
Warning: none, mentions of blood and injury
Word count: 870
A/n: I cannot seem to figure out a good ending for this oneshot, originally it was going to be a battle of stubbornness, with the reading refusing to admit their true feelings as to not get in the way, and Shigaraki refusing to admit his feelings because he just assumed he’d be turned away. Then it was going to be just an angsty mess and I got sad writing it haha. If you’re feeling up to it let me know how you’d end this story properly, I’d love to hear it!
Masterlist guidelines
All it took was one touch.
The gentle caress of your hand on his shoulder accompanied by a shiny reassuring smile.
It was honestly pretty pathetic to say the least. It definitely wasn't something that Shigaraki was prepared to deal with.
But suddenly he couldn't stop thinking about you. Every move you made, every off handed gesture— everything— he paid attention to it all. It was almost as if he were in a trance, completely fixated, unable to look away.
You started to haunt his dreams, and while he was never one to shy away from nightmares, he found that the pleasant dreams you accompanied him in were much more horrific.
He had it bad, and it was all your fault.
It was easy to ignore for while— he avoided you— making Dabi or Toga talk to you instead for whatever task you were being assigned. He never answered your questions, he wouldn't even look you in the eyes.
But then you touched him again, one big hug after an accomplished mission. It almost knocked him out cold.
After that he couldn't ignore it anymore, deciding to just say fuck it and see what else there was to learn about you.
He would invite you to play games with him on his shitty old DS he managed to keep with him— he listened to your rambling over your favorite bands new songs— he watched you indulge in your hobbies and even tried them out for himself when you weren't around.
He knew it was a bad idea from the start, getting close to you, letting you give him friendly hugs and pats on the back.
And when you kissed him on the cheek as a thank you after he gave you a stupid little prize he won in a claw machine— he felt it for the very first time.
A cloudy feeling in his lungs that made his throat feel as if it were full of glass, the shards ripping his throat to shreds.
It started off slow— for a while it didn't really impact him at all, just an uncomfortable feeling brewing in his chest. It didn't slow him down, he never had to stop what he was doing— and no one even seemed to notice.
But then the coughing fits started and the petals started coming out— closing his windpipe and ripping through his body in an unforgiving rage.
Funnily enough, they were your favorite color.
To see something you loved so dearly mixed with his own blood— it honestly made him sick. You were no saint, your hands becoming just as dirty as the others as the days moved on and the league progressed— but there was nothing morbid within you. You killed to live, not to take.
By this point everyone knew something was wrong, even if they couldn't pinpoint an exact reason. He did his best to keep the petals out of sight, shoving them in his pocket or decaying them before they could even leave his mouth. The coppery taste became something he couldn't avoid, his teeth growing weak and his skin going pale.
Their oh so fearless leader was now slow, out of breath and coughing up blood seemingly out of nowhere. Really— who could blame them for being so concerned?
Especially you. The one who started it all.
He knew he was too far gone— that his days were sure to be numbered, and every moment you stood by his bedside was another year off of his life. But really— he didn't care at all. Shigaraki was stubborn, even if in the end it would mean his demise.
He was stubborn enough to keep the issue to himself and he was selfish enough to let it eat away at him— so long as you were by his side.
If anyone were to figure out his situation, to put the pieces together and diagnose his ailment from afar—he was sure they'd laugh right in his face. He had so much to do, so much to live for, and yet he allowed himself to stay dying in your arms.
God, he really was pathetic.
He hated himself for it— he wanted to hate you— but the velvety blood soaked petals shoved in his pocket were there to mock him— to tell him it was far too late for that. There was no hope of escaping, even if he had wanted to.
Your hands were always so warm, tender, reminiscent of something he had long since forgotten. You fluffed his pillow every night and brushed his hair every morning. You were no villain— you had to have been an angel dropped from the sky.
As his body grew weaker, your attention towards him doubled in size— If he had known dying was all it took to keep you glued to his side then maybe none of this would've been happening.
Had this happened only a few months earlier he would've had the damn plant removed— he would've forgotten you, buried your body along with your memory. He didn't want this, he didn't need this.
But oh how he wanted you— oh how he needed you.
You were a curse. His own personal fallen angel.
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DIABOLIK LOVERS LUNATIC PARADE Sofmap Tokuten Drama CD ”This Afternoon at 3 PM, a Certain Parade Commences ~The Gorgeous Waiter~”
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Original title: 午後3時、とあるパレードの一幕~華麗なるウェイター~
Source: Diabolik Lovers LUNATIC PARADE Sofmap Tokuten Drama CD
Audio: Here
Seiyuu: Kaji Yuki & Kishio Daisuke
Translator’s note: It is no secret that Kanato - aka the purple gremlin - is not my favorite character but I absolutely love him in combination with Azusa because it makes for such good, chaotic fun. This CD is no different and might be my favorite of the Lunatic Parade Tokuten series. Azusa and his dry statements combined with Kanato trying his best not to absolutely lose his mind as a result makes for some A+ comedy. I definitely wouldn’t have wanted to be a customer at the cake store on that specific day, haha.
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Azusa: Sorry…for the wait…Here’s your royal milk tea…and the limited-time-only mille-feuille. 
*Thud* 
Azusa: …
*Cling* 
Azusa: Well then…Please take your time. 
Azusa walks away again. 
Kanato: Haahー... Why do I have to work as a waiter? Just when I thought I could enjoy my time at the Parade…It should be me on that seat enjoying a mille-feuille instead!
Azusa: Kanato-san…Let’s try our best together? 
Kanato: Hah? And why exactly? I don’t see why I would do that. 
Azusa: Well…We have to work here to compensate…for the shop’s showcase table…which you destroyed in a fit of rage…
Kanato: No, no, you’re completely twisting reality there. None of this would have happened if you didn’t feel the need to try and sprinkle shichimi-spice on my cake. In other words, I’m not at fault here! ーー Azusa, you’re to blame. 
Azusa: Eh? Oh…
Kanato: With that being said, I’m heading home now. It would be pure torture to have to stay here and be surrounded by different kinds of cake, yet not being able to eat any of them myself. 
Azusa stops him from leaving. 
*Rustle* 
Kanato: …!? 
Azusa: You can’t…Come on…Let’s take this job seriously…Kanato-san…
Kanato: Don’t tug onto my sleeve! You’ll wrinkle the fabric!
*Rustle rustle* 
Azusa: But if I don’t do this…You’ll make a run for it, won’t you…? So I refuse…to let go…Besides…Eve told me…If you cause trouble for others…You have to properly reflect on your actions… 
Kanato: Eve…? Ahー You’re talking about her. I mean, that definitely sounds like the kind of hypocritic nonsense she’d preach. Still, that’s none of my conceーー 
*Rustle* 
Azusa: …
Kanato: …!? E-Excuse me!? Are you trying to break my arm!? 
Azusa: I mean…You were saying some awfully mean things about Eve…I believe we should take her advice to heart, Kanato-san…
*Rustle rustle* 
Kanato: …F-Fine! I’ll work, okay!? 
*Rustle* 
Azusa: I’m glad to hear that…Well then…I’ll teach you the ropes, okay? First up…
*Rustle* 
Azusa: Here you go. You have to wear…your uniform. 
*Rustle* 
Kanato: What is the meaning behind this lame apron? Are you making fun of me…? 
Azusa: Eh? But the bear print on it is really cute…
Kanato: That’s exactly what makes it lame…!!
Azusa forces him to wear the apron. 
*Rustle rustle* 
Kanato: …C-Cut it out! My arm’s not supposed to bend that way…!
*Rustle rustle*
Azusa: Huh…? How do you make a butterfly knot again…? Let me think…
*Rustle rustle*
Azusa: Like this…? 
Kanato: No! It’s like this, see!? I’ll do it myself, okay!? 
*Rustle rustle*
Kanato: I’ll fix yours as well while I’m at it. Come on, turn around. 
Azusa: Eh? But…
Kanato: The loops of your bow are pointing upwards because you tied it the wrong way. It had been bothering me this whole time. So no buts and just let me fix it. 
*Rustle rustle*
Azusa: Oh…Thank you…You’re pretty impressive, Kanato-san…
Kanato: …!! …Ahー God…Why am I looking out for this guy…? 
Azusa: Come on, Kanato-san…Smile…
Kanato: Haah!? What exactly about this situation would make me smile!? 
Azusa: But…If you make a scary face like that…You’ll frighten the customers…
Kanato: So what!? They’re only in my way anyway! They should just all head home right here, right now! Fufu…Perhaps I shouldn’t stop at the showcase table this time, but destroy the whole store instead? Then they won’t be able to force me to work in return. Besides, Father could easily compensate for the store if I were to ask him. 
Azusa: I wonder…? Do you really think…he’d forgive us that easily…? Besides…You have Reiji-san to worry about as well…
Kanato: …
Azusa: Don’t worry… The Manager said that he’ll forgive us…as long as we make it through one day without any issues…There aren’t too many customers in the store right now either…So let’s practice? I’ve been working for about one hour already…So I’ll teach you the ins and outs… 
Kanato: Haah…? Why do I have to get tutored by you? 
Azusa: But…You don’t want to get punished any worse, do you…? 
Kanato: Kuh…Fine…Just this one time, do you understand? 
Azusa: Well then, Kanato-san…Please repeat after me, okay…? After taking the customer’s order, you come back here…Then head towards the kitchen and say the following: ‘A crepe cake and hot coffee for table three…!’ 
Kanato: …
Azusa: Um…Did I go too fast? I’ll repeat one more time then…(speaks extra slow) ’‘A crepe cake and…Um…a hot coーー
Kanato: Ahー God! Could you speak any slower!? ‘A crepe cake and hot coffee for table three’, there!? 
Azusa: Oh…Wow, Kanato-san…You sound incredibly motivated…!
Kanato: I’m not…You’re just exceptionally bad at this…
Azusa: Anyway, now you know how to pass the orders to the kitchen. Let’s go to the next step, okay? Afterwards…You have to carry the cake from the kitchen to the customer’s table…But before you do that, I recommend you put a little of this on top…
*Sprinkle sprinkle* 
Kanato: Hey, Azusa…May I ask what you’re doing…?
Azusa: As a secret technique to make it even more delicious…I’m putting on some shichimi-spice…
Kanato: No…That doesn’t make any sense, does it? In what world do shichimi-spice and whipped cream go together!? 
Azusa: Eh? You think so? But…
Azusa takes a bite of the cake. 
Azusa: …Mmh! It’s good!
*Rustle*
Kanato: Excuse me!? Don’t just eat someone else’s order! I’ve been trying my best over here to hold back this whole time!
Azusa: Oh…I did it without thinking…Sorry…Um…Would you like a bite as well? 
Kanato: No thank you! There’s no way a spicy cake could be delicious!
Azusa: Really…? What a shame…
Kanato: Anyway, you were supposed to teach me stuff, weren’t you? Hurry up and get it over with. 
Azusa: Mmh. Well then…Let’s try and actually bring this cake to its table. 
Kanato: Hah? But there’s been a bite taken out of it. 
Azusa: Don’t worry…We’re only practicing right now. 
Kanato: Ahー Is that so? 
Azusa: You put the plate with the cake on the tray… 
*Cling* 
Azusa: And then you have to set the coffee…You use this coffee grinder to grind the beans. Kanato-san…Why not give it a try? 
Kanato: I don’t want to. It’s just a test run so I can just pretend I did it, can’t I? 
Azusa: You can’t. This machine is pretty tricky to use, you see? Come on…Give it a try. Hey? Hurry…
Kanato: …Fine! I just have to do it, right!? …This is obviously a piece of cake. All I’ve got to do is spin the handle after all. 
Kanato starts grinding up the coffee beans. 
Kanato: Excuse me…? Why does it stop…? 
Azusa: One of the beans might have gotten stuck…You have to spin it a little slower…
Kanato: Could you not point out mistakes in my technique? Ahー God…All of this is just pissing me off…! Move already…! Move…! Aah!!
Azusa: Ah!
*Thud* 
*Splat* 
Kanato: …
Azusa: Ah…Hey…Are you okay…? 
Kanato: Hey…My apron is covered in that weird mixture of shichimi-spice and whipped cream…
Azusa: Eh? But, that’s…because you tried to force the handle to spin when it was stuck…
Kanato: Shut up! Are you trying to say it’s my own fault!? You’re the one who told me to spin it!
Azusa: K-Kanato-san…Calm down!
Kanato: Shut up! Not another word!! I’m done with this! I’m going home!
Azusa: Y-You can’t…! Wait!
*Rustle rustle* 
Kanato: Let me go, Azusa! I’ve reached my limit!!
Someone enters the store. 
Azusa: But…L-Look! We’ve got a customer! So let’s at least greet them! …Welcoーー
*Rustle rustle*
Azusa: Ah…! Kanato-san…!
Kanato walks away.
Kanato: Hah! You go ahead and do that if that’s what you wiー 
He bumps into the customer. 
*Thud* 
Kanato: …Excuse me!? You’re in the way!! …Eh!? 
Azusa: Kanato-san…! That’s no way to talk to a customer…!
Azusa runs up to the two of them. 
Azusa: …Eh? Eve…? Why are you here…? 
You explain. 
Azusa: Ah…You were worried about us…? …Thank you. But unfortunately…Kanato-san was just about to leave…
Kanato: That’s not true. I’ll actually do my job. 
Azusa: Eh? 
Kanato: Why do you seem so surprised, Azusa? 
Azusa: I mean…Your statement is not adding up with what you said earlier…Also, how come you suddenly seem in a better mood now that Eve is here…? You were so upset earlier…
Kanato: I’m not upset at all. I was just trying to take a small break, that’s all. Say, Azusa, don’t you think you’re losing your ability to think straight because you’ve been making one mess-up after the other? I’m completely exhausted as a result…Honestly, I’m so glad you’re here now. 
Azusa: What are you…saying…? You’re the one…who hasn’t been doing a proper joーー 
Kanato: I’ve been doing exactly what was expected of me but take a look at this apron! Azusa spilled cake all over it! Would you please wipe it off? You have a handkerchief with you, don’t you? Oh, and while you’re here now anyway, why not enjoy some cake as well? I’ll be so kind as to take your order. 
Azusa: Wait…! Eve…Kanato is spouting a bunch of lies…Besides…I’ll take your oder, okay? ーー Come on. 
*Rustle* 
Azusa: This way…I’ll show you the best seat. 
Kanato: Now don’t try to one-up me! I’m the one who reached out to her first! Why don’t you go and make yourself useful by cleaning up the coffee grinder?
Azusa: And I believe you should go get changed…I’ll make sure to take her order in the meantime. 
Kanato: Hah? She can take care of that. …Say, you’d just love to make yourself useful to me, don’t you? 
Azusa: …
*Rustle rustle* 
Azusa: You can’t…Eve is the one thing…I won’t let you have. I’ll be the one…showing her to her table!
*Rustle* 
Kanato: Excuse me!? I’m the only one who’s allowed to touch her! You’re in the way!
Azusa: I can’t do that. …It’s impossible.
You try to calm both of them down.
Kanato: I never asked for your opinion! This is between the two of us!
Azusa: Our honor and pride as men depends on this. We need to make it clear who exactly you belong to, right here, right now…
Kanato: In that case, I shall use my fangs to show you the answer to that question immediately.
Azusa: Oh no…My fangs are the only ones she enjoys. She’s not interested in yours. …Right, isn’t that true, Eve…? 
You back away. 
Azusa: Don’t worry…No need to run away…I promise I’ll keep you safe from Kanato-san…
Kanato: You’re getting that wrong, Azusa. She’s afraid of you. …Hey, isn’t that right? 
Both of them corner you. 
Kanato & Azusa: You’ll choose me, won’t you? 
*Rustle* 
You make a run for it. 
Kanato: Excuse me!? Where are you going…!? 
Kanato chases after you, leaving the store.
Azusa: Waitー! Don’t run…!!
Azusa follows suit, leaving the store as well. 
*Thud* 
ーー THE END ーー
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