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#i dunno if i gave him his own post here
godbirdart · 1 year
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「 oc: lizkit 」
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hisbitchhh · 1 month
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ARE WE DONE? (GETO SUGURU X READER)
I DUNNO... MAYBE?
Notes: Trash post :P wanted to post smth because I luvvvvv u guys!!😘 it's angst w comfort btw. NOT PROOFREAD CS IM LAZY😍🤞
WC: 1.7K
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“I'm just– I'm only asking you a simple question! Why do you have to get so mad about it? Are you hiding something from me?” You asked, voice almost sounding desperate when you gently placed a hand on your boyfriend's shoulder. He shrugged your hand off of his shoulder, standing up from the bed.
“I told you I'm not hiding shit from you, Y/n. Drop the topic already.” You were about to put your hand on him again, but the dirty glare he sent you made you pull your hand back.
You and Geto had dated for three years already– and you couldn't help but feel him distancing himself from you. And you would know if he wasn't, considering how touchy he usually gets with you. Lately he's been acting differently with you. No more morning kisses– he used to pepper you with them, and you'd jokingly complain about his morning breath, but now that you even attempt getting close to him when you wake up beside him, your sleep-swollen eyes watch as his face contorts into one of disgust whenever you go in for even a single peck. He would lightly push you away and turn to face the other side, muttering a “Brush your teeth before going in for a kiss”. Just a small gesture like that would make you feel bad about yourself. Was it karma? No, of course it wasn’t. You'd happily accept any kiss from him even if his breath smelled like grass dog shit.
It wasn't just that, though. Of course not. There was more to the story– Only cleaning himself off after sex, leaving you to do house chores by yourself, going out for a drive on his bike without a single ‘I love you’ or ‘Goodbye’, and so much more. The main one, you ask? He barely even spends time with you anymore. Usually he'd drive out with you on his bike, cuddle you whenever you had an afternoon nap, have various movie nights with you that'd end either with his full body weight on you, head resting on your chest with drool staining your shirt or his groans muffling your moans, cock passionately drilling in and out of your swollen pussy with most of his cum getting fucked back into your cervix that the mushroom tip of his dick deliciously kissed with each thrust. Now though, it was so different. Instead of doing any of those, he'd go out by himself on his bike, Leave you to nap by yourself with the messages of someone else resting on the bright screen of his phone, and his eyes being glued to the device in his hands instead of paying attention to whatever was playing on the tv.
It was always that damned phone now. What was so important about it now that not even you could know what he was up to? Every time you asked he would either turn his phone off, reply with a bored hum, or say it's nothing. You didn't want to because he was the greatest man you'd ever met, but you came to the conclusion that he was cheating on you. Your heart sank every time you thought about it, trying to distract yourself with a house chore that would make you eventually forget about the thought.
Today, you had gotten ready for bed, lying with him in the darkness of your shared bedroom. The two of you even owned a house together because of your well paying jobs and also because of his endless begging for you to move with him to a new home after only a year into your relationship.
His back was turned to you, and his phone was resting in his hands. You silently looked over his shoulder in curiosity as you had seen him grinning at his phone earlier, a soft hum leaving your lips.
“Who're you texting?”
This made Geto flinch. He looked over at you with wide eyes, not even bothering to get out of the tab or turn his phone off.
“What are you doing awake? I thought you were asleep.”
“I can't sleep without you cuddling me,” You gave him a soft smile, propping yourself up on your shoulder, looking at his phone.
“Who's Reiko?”
And now, you're here.
“Why are you always running off when I ask you these questions?-- Suguru, where are you going?” You watched as he got out of the bed, changing into a muscle shirt and gray sweatpants that he had thrown and left on the floor much earlier.
“‘M goin’ out for fresh air.”
“But It's late, you shouldn't–”
“I already told you I have nothing to hide from you, can you quit fuckin’ nagging me so much?! I'm not doing anything and that person that I was texting is no one.”
“I'm not nagging I'm just worried!– Suguru, don't leave, please, I wanna talk about this–”
“I'll be back in an hour.”
You were already following him down the stairs when he walked out of the bedroom, trying to match his pace as he walked into the garage. A wince left your lips when your warm feet touched the cold concrete floor, but you followed him nonetheless as he placed his helmet over his head, covering his whole head but his eyes, and the same dark orbs that usually looked at you with love and admiration were now replaced by an unrecognizable pair full of nothing but boredom and disinterest when he glanced at you before sliding his face shield down, backing out of the now opened garage. You could only watch as he revved and noisily sped off, feeling the warmth of your tears land on your now cold cheeks.
Is it over now? Is this really the end of your relationship with him? You didn't know, and you didn't want to know.
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More than an hour has passed. Geto stepped off of his motorcycle to fill it with gas, sighing to himself as he thought the argument over. In all honesty, He can't exactly call it an argument when all he did was avoid most of your questions and leave the house with nothing but a sharp glare sent your way. The man sighed and took his helmet off, holding it against his waist as he stared at his surroundings. He couldn't help but think about you. He was definitely more relaxed now, thinking everything through.
Did he feel bad for having sex with another woman? Yes.
Did he feel bad for constantly visiting the other woman? Now he did.
Was he regretting all of his past decisions? Definitely.
His dark hair blew gently in the cold winter breeze. What was he going to do when he got home to his girlfriend? His girlfriend, the one who he left deprived of his love and affection, the one who waited and stayed up for him every time he had to work overtime and got home late, the one he hid another woman from, the one he cheated on. Scratch that, you're more than just a girlfriend to him. You're his woman, the one he should respect, love, and cherish the best moments with instead of hiding another woman from. You were doing so much for him, and here he was giving you the silent treatment and pushing you away because he lost interest?
Fucking bullshit.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
He ran a hand through his silky strands of black hair. He couldn't leave you alone for long. He had to go home to his woman, his one and only, his everything– immediately. He had to apologize.
Who knew a two hour bike ride could change someone's entire mindset?
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Your head rested in your arms and lay on your thighs as you waited for your boyfriend, sitting on the floor of the entrance to your garage. It was cold, and the nightly wind didn't do anything but dry the tears that continued leaving your eyes, hitting your spaghetti strap clad figure with a strong breeze. You didn't care, though. As long as your man got home safe, nothing else mattered. You'd be able to go to sleep peacefully knowing that he was still alive and in the house, even if he probably planned to sleep in another bedroom. A soft whine left your lips as you lightly shivered on the floor, leaning against the doorway.
When was he going to get back? It felt like it had been at least three hours already…
Your overthinking was not helping at all with the tears of worry rolling down your frozen cheeks, silently sobbing in both physical and mental pain. You really hoped your relationship with him wouldn't end, that you'd be able to keep him with you and try to make things go back to how they we–
Your head perked up at the sound of a loud motorcycle engine, breathing heavily as you struggled to get up on your feet when you saw him drive into the garage. Geto’s eyes widened at the sight of your trembling figure, face completely stained with tears, your eyes and lips puffy. If he regretted his actions before, he absolutely does even more now. He immediately parked his bike and pulled his helmet off, not caring about the loud thud it made when it fell to the floor.
“Y/n? What the hell are you doing outside?!” The bigger man dashed to you, instantly taking you in his arms. You replied with a gentle sob, clinging to him as he brought you back into the house.
“I was w-worried,” You stuttered, a soft whimper leaving your chapped lips when you moved your head to look up at him.
His heart sank.
Geto hated to see you cry. It was one of the many things he couldn't stand when it came to you. He'd go as far as threatening to kill anyone if you had ever been hurt, but the only person that he was threatening to kill was himself. Why didn't he think about your feelings when he found that other woman? You were so patient and fragile, so sweet yet easy to break. Why was he being such an idiot?
Tears continued to roll down your cheeks when he sat on the sofa with your smaller figure resting in his lap.
“Suguru, I-I know you don't wanna talk about it, but–”
“Shhh, it's okay.” The man sighed, rubbing warm circles into your back and hiding your face in his chest. He couldn't bear to see you cry any longer.
“Don't worry about that right now. I'm here with you.”
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tooearlyforthis · 1 year
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My Valentine | Steve Harrington
Hey guys, sorry for going MIA for a second there I was sick all this week. Here is a little valentine's day fic and hopefully I'll have part three of Partners in Crime posted soon!
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader
Word Count: 2.5k
Series Synopsis: With no Valentine's Days plans Y/n questions why her friends are acting so weird.
Warnings: fluff, friends to lovers
Click here to see my masterlist
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“I don’t understand, you never want to work.”
Y/n crossed her arms as she leaned back against the front counter. She furrowed her brows at her coworker, Robin Buckley, who was very adamant about taking her Friday shift. 
“I dunno I thought it would be fun,” Robin tried to reason with her. 
“With Keith?” she argued back. Something was up, she just didn’t know what. 
“Yeah… just some….” she crossed her arms, looking toward the floor. “Bonding time?”
Y/n stared at her friend with a blank expression. “I don’t even think you believe that.”
“I just need the money, okay! Just take the day off it’s Valentines day.”
“Rob, out of the two of us, you’re the one with a partner. What does Vickie think about this?”
“Vickie is fine with it. Our plans are that night anyways.” Y/n shook her head, turning around to rewind tapes on the table. She felt Robin walk to her side, pleading. “Please, Y/n just let me take the shift.”
She debated for a moment. She didn’t mind working on Valentine’s Day, especially since she had no one to celebrate it. Then again a Friday off sounded nice… 
“Ugh fine, you can have it,” she gave in. 
Robin celebrated to herself before replying,” Thanks, really.”
“It’s fine… I’m gonna get going my shift just ended.” Grabbing her bag, she made her way around the counter and toward the front door. “Have fun closing!”
“Give Harrington the middle finger for me will ya?”
Y/n laughed as she left the store, shedding herself out of her green work vest. She had plans to hang out with Steve Harrington, one of her closest friends. His house was only a block away so she opted to drive back home, shower quickly, and walk over. 
Every-time she began her trek to his house she felt butterflies raise in her stomach. He was an attractive guy and even though they were friends and nothing more, part of her still wondered what if. They had been friends for a couple years and she would be lying to herself if she said she hadn’t thought about going steady with him.
But they were just friends, nothing more and Y/n found herself perfectly content with that. After a couple of shared beers and slices of pizza, she sat down on Steve’s couch watching as he tried to find a movie for the two of them to watch.
“What are you in the mood for?” he asked her, cycling through the tapes he owned. 
“I’m find with anything,” she replied. “Hey, has Robin been weird around you lately?”
He furrowed his brows, not bothering to look up. “No, why? Is she being weird around you?”
“Kind of… she really wanted to take my Friday shift… I don’t know it just felt off.”
Steve’s head shot up to look at her. “W-weird? Why would it be weird?”
“Well for one the shift is with Keith,” she began, watching as Steve hesitantly nodded in agreement. “But also it’s Valentine’s Day. Like, she should be out having fun with Vickie.”
“They have plans that night,” Steve blurted out before stumbling to act more nonchalant. “I-I mean she told me she had plans for that night so…I don’t think that’s weird.”
Y/n narrowed her eyebrows toward him. What happened to him? It felt like there was more to the conversation that he didn't want to share. “Okay…” she responded, “I just think it’s a holiday Vic cares about and it’s not like I’ll be spending my day off with anyone.”
Steve shrugged. “Maybe she just wants to work?”
“Robin working more than she has to? I don't think we're friends with the same girl.”
“I don’t know, man!” Steve defended, picking up a random movie from the pile he was holding. “This one?”
“Sure.”
Before she could even bring up the subject again, he was popping the tape into his player and leaving the room to get them more beer. Something was off with him and she couldn’t figure out why. For now, maybe it was best to just enjoy the movie…
🌹🌹🌹
Friday morning began with a rough start for Y/n. Her alarm blared at 6:00 in the morning, cursing as she shut it off. It was an alarm she set for work but had completely forgot about. Grunting, she got out of bed, unhappy to be awake at such an ungodly hour. 
It was just more time she would be awake on the most romantic holiday with no one to share it with. Maybe a morning run could calm her down. Throwing on her running clothes she slipped out of the house, hoping to not wake her parents. She followed her usual path, running out of the neighborhoods and toward town square. 
That’s when she passed the field. It was plain looking, just a high hill on the side of the road. She had helped Dustin bring his radio tower there a year or two before and ever since then she found herself drawn to the place. It was quiet spot that guaranteed nobody would interrupt her. Well, everyone except a group of monster fighting teens.
On days where she felt overwhelmed and done with the world, she would pack her blanket and a book, opting to spending the day reading and having a picnic all to herself. Sometimes people wold join her, Nancy, Robin - one time she even got Max to join her. But there was something about laying in a field by yourself that remained unmatched to anything else. 
It felt like the perfect day to spend Valentines Day alone.
Finishing her run, Y/n made her way back home, quick to shower, change, and pack her bag. Loading everything into her car, she decided to stop at a coffee shop before hand, thinking a cup of joe with the lunch she packed sounded nice. 
As she was waiting for the barista to make her drink. The front door of the shop boomed open. Everyone turned there heads to see a slightly distressed teen with a Camp Know Where shirt frantically looking around. He sighed in relief when he spotted her. 
“Y/n!” Dustin exclaimed, rushing over to her. “Fancy seeing you here!” He placed his hands on his hips, trying to hide the fact that he was out of breath.
“Are you okay?” she asked him, suspicious as to why he was running for her in the first place.
“Y-yeah, yeah, fine. So… what are you up to today? I figured you’d be home - not that I was looking for you or anything…”
The barista called out her name and she walked over to get her drink. “Just stopping for coffee before I head out,” she told him, walking toward the door.
Dustin followed, like he wanted more information.
“At the field,” she concluded, hoping she could get back in her car and leave in piece. 
She watched his eyes widen as she explained her plans. “Oh, uhhhh can that wait? I actually do need your help with something.”
“And what might that be?” she asked, taking a sip of her drink. She stared at him narrowly as he tried to make up a reason. What was going on with her friends this week?
“I forgot to get Susie a Valentine’s Day present. Can you help me get one?”
Y/n raised an eyebrow. “You forgot to get your girlfriend a present? I think it’s a little too late for that Dustin, it won’t arrive for at least a week.”
“I’ll get express shipping come on!”
Before she could protest, he was loading his bike onto the rack of her car. He then slipped into the passenger seat, fidgeting his fingers. She guessed her plans would have to wait. 
After debating back and forth over what to get her, Y/n recommend a flower business that just opened in town. It was a chain that was bound to have a location near Susie. He could send her flowers that would arrive just on time. Hesitantly, he agreed. 
They spent way longer than she would have liked looking at different flowers. Dustin even went as far as listing off all the different flowers he knew Susie liked. It was getting frustrating, how detailed he was being about a bouquet that would get thrown away in five days time. 
“Just get these okay?” Y/n said annoyed. She picked up the closest bouquet and bringing it to the clerk at the front desk. “We’d like to get these flowers delivered at a different location of yours.”
“Sure thing!” the older man behind the counted said. “Where to?” Y/n turned toward Dustin, waiting to give the address. “Wait a minute, weren’t you in here a few days ago?”
“Huh?” Dustin said, trying to look confused. 
“Yeah, you bought flowers last week for some girl in-“
“You know what, I’m sure she’ll be okay,” Dustin interrupted, taking Y/n's arm and dragging her out of the store. He had already bought flowers for Susie? What were they doing shopping for a present then? “Let’s go back to my house! I’ll grab a book and read with you.”
Y/n didn’t care that she wouldn’t be alone anymore. She would do anything to just go read quietly in the field. “Sure, let’s get going.”
🌹🌹🌹
Dustin probably had to be the worst person to choose to read with. One, because she knew the boy liked to commentate while he read. And two, because he can never decided on the right book. 
He had to be upstairs for at least half an hour before Y/n got concerned; wondering why it was taking so long. Creeping toward the stairs, she heard his walkie go off in his room.
How much longer can you stay away?
I don’t know man, I’m really trying! 20 minutes tops!
“Dustin!” she called out for him. “Did you find a book?”
“Uh, yeah! Coming!” Trotting down the stairs, she watched him shove his walkie into his bag. 
“Who was that?”
“What? Uhhh, no one! Wrong channel. Let’s get going!”
As they began their journey back across town, Y/n asked, “So what’s Susie doing today? Are you gonna call her.”
“We talked last night her dad is pretty strict,” he informed her.
“Oh.”
“Yeah, he doesn’t like that his daughters are starting to date so every year he plans family outings on romantic holidays.”
“That sucks.”
“Yeah but I get it. I’ll call her again tonight after her father goes to bed.” The car was only silent for a moment before Dustin asked her a question. “Did you get any Valentines gifts?”
She shook her head. “I’m don’t have any Valentines.”
Dustin nodded, looking off out the window. “Steve doesn’t have any either.”
“Okay….” What was he getting at? “That’s a little surprising since I can’t remember the last time he didn’t have a date planned.”
Turning off the main road, they drove all the way to the fence that poorly guarded the giant hill. Getting out they began their slow trek up. It wasn’t until she could start to see the top of the field that Dustin spoke again.
“I think you deserve a Valentine,” he said, making sure to walk slightly behind her.
She looked behind her as she walked, she frowned. “Sure, Henderson.”
Turning back to the top of the hill, she felt herself stop in her tracks. It wasn’t empty like it usually was, no, there was a person standing at the peak.
Not just any person - Steve.
He was holding a bouquet of flowers, standing in front of a blanket with food splayed out and a book. When she saw him, she could feel her cheeks redden, a smile forming on his face. 
“What is this-“ she began, turning back to as Dustin but he was already halfway down the hill.
“Have fun lovebirds!” he yelled, climbing in to another car that was parked next to hers. 
She watched Jonathan and Nancy in the front seat wave. A whistle from Lucas and Max in the back. Laughing, she watched them drive off, turning her attention back to the boy in front of her.
“Did you put him up to this?” she asked, walking closer to him.
He smirked. “Maybe.”
“And Robin taking my shift?”
Shrugging, he said, “That was a little harder to pull of but, she knew it was for a good cause.”
Stopping in front of him, she looked down at the flowers. “Are those for me?” 
Never in her wildest dreams did she imagine she would ever receive flowers from Steve Harrington. He was the type of guy that didn’t second guess himself on the girls he liked. If he wanted her, he’d go after her. So when they became friends and he made no moves on her, she thought that was the end of it. She would always think he was cute, wonder what it was like to date him but knew it would never go that far. 
So seeing him stand in front of her with a handful of roses… it was hard not to blush.
“Maybe,” he replied, handing them to her. 
Taking in a deep breath, she smelled the roses. It felt like a dream, a really good dream that she would wake up from at any moment. 
“Steve Harrington,” she began. “What are you doing up here?”
“What? I can’t find a good spot to read?”
That made them both chuckle. 
“Seriously Y/n, you didn’t know?” She shook her head. “I was so nervous when you started asking questions earlier this week and I thought that little shit Henderson was gonna mess up.”
“Well he didn’t. Consider me utterly surprised.”
“Good.” He smiled, holding out his hand to guide her down on to the blanket. “You have been a constant thought in my mind from the moment we met. I can’t believe it’s even taken me this long to admit it but I really like you.”
Y/n smiled, looking down only for a moment before back up at him. “I really like you too.”
“So,” he asked, moving closer to her. “Will you do me the honor of being my valentine?”
Leaning closer, her lips ghosting over his, she decided to respond with action. She closed the gap between them, pulling him into a long drawn out kiss. She felt his hand wrap around her waist, pulling her closer to him. 
When they pulled away he asked, “So is that a yes?”
Laughing, she rolled her eyes. “Yes, you doofus.”
“Hmm your doofus.”
She pulled him in for another kiss, making sure it was more hearted and passionate for the last. She could tell she took him by surprise, he arm freezing for a moment on her back. Pulling apart, she rested her forehead against his. Even with closed eyes she could tell that he was shocked. 
Only smiling, she replied. “Yes, my doofus.”
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sebastianstanisahotmf · 5 months
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Cuddles
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Steve Rogers x Fem!reader
A/N This is one of the first fics I posted on my other account and I thought I lost it, luckily it just wasn't labelled. Comments, likes and reblogs are appreciated and all mistakes are my own so if you see any just comment them.
Summary You just got home from a long mission and you missed Steve (a lot).
DO NOT REPOST ON ANY OTHER APPS/SITES. THE ONLY PLACE THIS FIC IS ON IS TUMBLR.
Warnings fluff
To say you missed your boyfriend, Steve, was an understatement. You had just gotten back from a three-week long mission with Nat and Clint at an abandoned Hydra base to get some information on the winter soldier. Luckily, the mission was successful and there weren't too many problems other than a few traps that caught the three of you off guard since they were strategically placed.
However, you were missing Steve a lot. And although the mission was less than a month, and you had spent longer away from him, you were still missing Steve and his amazing hugs. 
You could see Steve waiting for you as the Quinjet landed. As soon as the Quinjet opened, you were running towards Steve as he opened his arms to welcome you. 
Steve groaned as he took the impact from you running into him and wrapped his arms around you as you wrapped yours around his waist. You both stayed like that for a while before you pulled back so you could kiss Steve in what felt like forever. 
“I missed you so much baby,” Steve said, breathless from the kiss.
“I missed you too Stevie,” you gave him a chassed kiss on his lips before making your way to the floor you and Steve shared with Bucky so you could shower.
After your shower, you changed into one of Steve’s t-shirts and some shorts before going into the living room on your floor and joining Steve on the couch.
“Do you feel better now honey?” Steve asked.
“Much better,” you responded with a smile.
Steve lifted his left arm to rest on the couch behind you as you moved closer to cuddle into his side and rested your head on his chest. You stayed there for a while as you watched whatever show was on the tv until the end credits were rolling. 
You looked up at Steve as he leaned in to meet your lips in a kiss filled with pure passion. You could feel butterflies in your stomach as your and Steve's tongues fought for dominance.
 
This romantic situation was then ruined by the sounds of retching coming from behind you. You turned around to see Sam and Bucky stood at the door pretending to gag at the sight of your and Steve’s affection.
“You’re just jealous that you don’t have anyone to kiss birdman,” you said to Sam which he responded to with a scowl.
“And you can't handle the fact that I've got a girl before you jerk,” Steve said to Bucky with a smirk on his face.
“Punk,” Bucky replied. 
“Anyways we came here to tell you two love birds that food is ready,” Sam said, rolling his eyes.
 
You and Steve stood up and proceeded to walk with Sam and Bucky to the elevator. 
“You two better not start making out in the elevator or else I won't want my food.” Sam said while crossing his arms. 
“Jeez Sam were not animals,” you replied.
 
“I dunno if I believe you y/n. The things I've heard says different.” Bucky said with a disgusted look on his face.
 
“Come on Buck, we’re not that bad,” Steve was smiling because he knew that you both weren’t exactly quiet in the bedroom. 
Once the elevator doors opened, the four of you walked out and into the dining room where everyone else was waiting for you. Everyone was sitting down and they had left four seats for you, Steve, Sam and Bucky to sit in. 
You sat down next to Nat and Steve sat on the other side of you. You put your hand on Steve’s thigh whilst you used your other hand to eat. 
“So y/n how was the mission?” Tony asked.
“It was alright I guess. Some of the traps were so fucking hard though.”
“Well Hydra treasured cyborg so I'm not surprised.” Tony responded. 
“Hey! Don’t call me that. At least I don’t have to dress up in a stupid suit to become helpful.” Bucky snarled at Tony. 
Tony just rolled his eyes before turning to Bruce to talk about sciency things that no one but them understood. 
After everyone had eaten, you and Steve excused yourselves. You held hands all the way from the dining room up until you reached your ensuite where you both brushed your teeth. After that, you got into bed while Steve changed into some sweatpants. 
Steve got into bed next to you and lifted his arm so you could rest your head on his chest. You leaned up so you could kiss him again before returning your head back to its previous position. You threw an arm over Steve's stomach and hooked a leg over one of Steve’s so you could be as close as humanly possible to him. 
“Is there anything you want or need, baby?” Steve questioned.
“Just cuddles from you. That’s all I need Stevie.” This made Steve smile.
You kissed his chest and then closed your eyes as you slowly drifted into a comfortable slumber while listening to the steady beat of Steve’s heart. 
“G’night Stevie.” you whispered sleepily. 
Steve only heard your comment because of his super hearing and he let out a quiet chuckle.
“Good night darling,” Steve said although he knew you didn’t hear it because of your breathing which signified that you were fast asleep.
Taglist: @buckys-wintersoldier, @nicoline1998enilocin
If you want to join my taglist just click on the link
Also, if you want to see the posts I reblog just follow @sebastianstanisahotmf-reblogs
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palioom · 6 months
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day fifteen - shotgunning
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pairing: dieter bravo x f!reader
word count: 528
warnings: 18+ content; no use of y/n; shotgunning, drug use aka weed, cockwarming
a/n: ngl i had to google this one and hope it's the right kink
• kinktober 2023 masterlist •
A giggle left her as Dieter slipped his cock into her again, her legs wrapped tightly around his middle where she sat in his lap. Not giving a single damn about the mess between them, his cum sticky and leaking out of her and onto the expensive sofa.
He had been gone just quickly to grab another joint, lighting it and taking a first drag before giving it to her. For once in his life he was chill. Not running around and yelling and being a jerk to people, just smoothing his hands over her sides in the post-orgasm haze, feeling her around his cock. Taking her body in slowly, a light smile on his lips and his eyes crinkling behind his dark glasses.
She felt the low buzz of it as she took a drag, then gave it back to him. Loving to just sit here with him, feeling him, like she was one with him.
Dieter sucked on it again, but didn’t exhale immediately. Instead, he grinned, pulling her just a little closer by her waist.
“Come here.” His voice could be so soft when his brain wasn’t pumped full of cocaine. Pleasant and soothing, as if he hadn’t just taken her apart a few times and whispered filth into her ear all the while. “Open your mouth.”
She leaned closer, opening her mouth just as he asked to. Curious about what he was planning and stunned when he exhaled the smoke into her mouth before he kissed her.
Somehow this only made the chill feeling better, giggling more as his lips moved against hers, his tongue slipping into her mouth. Her hips moved on their own before he stopped her, just wanting to enjoy her like this, too damn tired for another round.
Dieter kissed her again and again, but not rough and demanding for once, languid and soft instead.
Squeezing her breast so a small moan escaped her, he bit her bottom lip before pulling back.
“Fuck, Dieter.” She whispered, giggling again. All thoughts about work and travel and everything forgotten right now. “That was fucking hot.”
He chuckled, leaning back against the sofa and taking another drag. “I know, baby. Wanna go for another round?”
Exhaling the smoke in her direction, she nodded wildly, biting her bottom lip in excitement. 
“Fuck yeah, Dieter.”
Her hands found their way into his hair as he finished the joint, swiftly pressing their lips together while he exhaled with a laugh. She was damn adorable like this, inhaling what he gave her before taking the lead this time.
So damn hungry, pressing herself against him. Her naked, sweaty skin against his, his big, warm hands keeping her hips from moving.
“You gotta do that when you fuck me.” She said, cupping his full cheeks with a wicked grin, her face close to his. “It’s so fucking hot, why the fuck haven’t you done that sooner?”
Dieter chuckled, shrugging his shoulders.
“Dunno, but be fucking sure there’s more places I can blow that smoke into.”
Her grin only became wider, biting her bottom lip. 
She couldn’t wait to find out just what else he had in mind exactly.
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pinkanonwrites · 1 year
Text
@tadpoledancer​ made a throwaway post about someone writing Vash getting fingered until he cries, and somehow I’ve transformed that little thought bunny into 3,500 words of gratuitous Vash The Stampede smut. Also please keep in mind that there’s only three episodes of Trigun Stampede out so far, so even though this is Stampede!Vash it’s more of a hodge-podge between his ‘98 and ‘23 personalities as I know them to be.
Tadpole, and others, I hope you enjoy!
Read on AO3 here!
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Stampede!Vash, G!N Reader but sharing a room with Meryl is mentioned, fingering, sub!Vash, dacryphilia, gratuitous use of the word “fuck” (if y’all notice anything else i should add to this top bit here lmk)
"Shh! Shh!"
"I'm not saying anything! You're the one giggling!"
"You're giggling too! Don't try and pin it all on me!" You hissed back, though it held no bite past your eager smile. The sun had set a few hours prior, desert air cooling just enough to no longer sting as you snuck down the motel hallway to Vash's room. Your socked feet slid silently along the old wooden floor as you crept past your companions' rooms to your target, the door cracked just enough to see Vash peering out waiting for you with a red flushed cheek and an eager eye shining behind his tinted lenses.
As you slipped through the gap and let the door slide quietly shut behind you, you found yourself bracketed in by Vash's arms. He stooped a bit to reach you more easily, cheeks rosy and eyes love-drunk as he hovered near you, bubbling with eager, nervous energy. Not that you didn't feel the exact same.
"Hi." He murmured.
"Hi." You responded. He squirmed a bit under your gaze, shifting from foot to foot. You leaned in to press a fluttering kiss to his cheek. Just a brush against his sun-kissed skin was enough to make him shiver, both flesh and metal hands resting on the sides of your shoulders, rubbing slowly up and down. He was beaming when you pulled away, red enough that you were surprised his glasses weren't fogging up.
This had been pretty routine for the two of you since joining up with Meryl, Roberto, and Wolfwood. Though you did your best to keep things low-key around the others, Nicholas had been the most vocal about pointing out Vash's favoritism for you. His teasing only served to make things more obvious to the others, and, well… You and Vash didn't want to give them any more ammunition to fluster the two of you than they already had.
Doubling up into hotel rooms was the best way to save some cash on the road, usually with you and Meryl in one, Roberto and Nick in another, and Vash in the third. But you always found yourself slipping out the door once Meryl dozed off, scampering and giggling down the hall to warm Vash's bed instead. And really, if you weren't keeping an eye out on your Humanoid Typhoon, who knows what could happen to him?
"Just one?" Vash nuzzled your cheek with his nose, letting out a delighted little hum when you gave another kiss on the cheek, then a third before meeting his lips.
"You look like you could fry an egg on your face right now. I don't need you overheating or anything."
He chuckled and leaned in for another kiss, lips brushing against yours as he spoke. "What can I say? Maybe you're worth frying for."
His lips were warm, ever so slightly chapped, and it wasn't long before they were parting to meet your sly tongue with his own. You tangled your fingers in his shower-damp hair as he pressed you up against the door, molding his body perfectly to yours. His hands slid down the length of your arms, down to cup each of your hips and hold you right up against him, leaving nowhere for you to go between his broad body and the door.
"Did you-mmh…" He struggled to keep his train of thought on track in between wet, lazy kisses. "Did you still wanna…?"
"Would I be here if I didn't?" You responded, pulling away both to let Vash continue to ramble and to pepper teasing kisses down the slope of his neck.
"I dunno, I just, hah… Wanted you to know you could change your mind if you want. I wouldn't-ohh…w-wouldn't mind."
You knew Vash could feel you smiling against his neck right before you trailed your teeth down the tight, corded muscle. "You ask me if I wanna finger-fuck you and you honestly think I'm gonna say no?"
He let out a quiet little eep! at your choice of words, tipping his head up and away so you couldn't see his wobbly, flustered expression. "I mean, you don't gotta say it just like that!" Lucky for you, trying to hide his face like that only served to give you more room to kiss and nibble on his sun-warmed skin. "Just letting you know you have the option, is all."
"Vash." You cooed against his neck, and you could swear you felt his length stiffen against you through his old, worn-out pajama pants when you did. "I just wanna make you feel good, that's all. If you're not sure we don't have to do anything, but I promise I'd tell you if I wasn't comfortable."
"Yeah?" He hummed. Finally he tipped his head back down to meet your gaze, and you could see it in his eyes. As far as he was willing to go to make sure you felt okay and comfortable, Vash really wanted this. He wanted it bad.
"Yes. Let me fuck you, baby boy. I'll make you feel so good."
He whimpered, and you knew you'd gotten him hooked. It was a clumsy backwards stumble to reach the bed, neither of you willing to part from the other for more than a breath. When the backs of Vash's knees hit the mattress edge he tumbled back, taking you with him in a clumsy heap and a painfully loud squeaking of old bedsprings that you probably should have been a bit more worried about than you actually were in the moment. You tugged at the bottom of his nightshirt as you straddled his hips, shoving it upwards to reveal more of his broad, scarred chest.
"Take it off." You mumbled, dipping your head to kiss around the edge of one of the deep pink wounds before he could reply. As he struggled to get the fabric around and over the shoulder joint of his prosthetic you lathed your tongue over the hypersensitive skin, smiling to yourself when you felt him shiver down to the tips of his toes.
"Th-That's cheating, you know? Getting me while I'm distracted?" He huffed. You just blew softly over the place you'd just licked and made him shiver a second time. "Maybe you're the real dangerous one around here, Mayfly."
Down the broad slope of his chest you continued to kiss, over faded slash marks and old bullet holes, lavishing each inch of him with the love and attention you knew he deserved, no matter how often he tried to rebuff it. You felt one of his hands cup the back of your head, fingers warm and rough in your hair so you immediately knew which one. At the waistband of his pants you peered up again through your eyelashes, over his heaving chest to his face where he had his lower lip worried between his teeth.
"Having fun?" You cooed. He bit out a short laugh and cracked a wobbly grin in response.
"Could be having more." He responded.
"Are you gonna keep being cheeky or are you gonna help me get your pants off first?"
"Little bit of both. Gotta keep things entertaining, after all.~" You both laughed as he lifted up his hips, letting you wrestle his sleep pants and underwear off in one fell swoop to be tossed somewhere on the floor to find later. This was an unfamiliar position for the two of you to be in, Vash naked with you still basically fully-clothed. He was always a giver, never wanting to take the pleasure you offered without offering it tenfold in return. But tonight you were the one in control, not Vash. So you cozied yourself right up between his legs and ran the pad of your thumb up his length, slow and steady, from the base all the way to the tip. His hips jumped in response, a short, stuttered thrust chasing the fleeting touch of your fingers even as you trailed them away and Vash let out a punched-out whine.
"You've still got lube, right?" You asked. It took a second for Vash to process, eyes lidded and expression trained on your hands, but once it sunk in he snapped back up to attention.
"Yeah! Little pocket of my bag, lemme just…" He rolled over onto his stomach to reach over the edge of the bed for his bag. As he strained outwards for the handle, unwilling to actually stand up and walk over to it, he presented you with an accidental view of his pert, toned backside. You slid both hands up the backs of his thighs to his ass and squeezed, digging your fingers into his firm cheeks. The scandalized little yelp you got in response made it absolutely worth it.
"Taking advantage of me when my guard is down, even! Who's the real dangerous outlaw around here?"
"Big talk from the guy who's about to get railed." You purred, stretching over Vash's body to pluck the mostly-full bottle of lube from his grasp. You spread him open with one thumb, the other popping the cap on the bottle with an audible click that sent a shiver down Vash's spine. "This is gonna be cold, m'kay?"
"'m ready. Hit me with your best shot!" His voice was partially muffled by the pillow, but there was a waver of unabashed desire behind the playful taunt. You tipped the bottle over and squeezed, letting a generous amount of lube dribble down Vash's ass and pool at his hole.
"Cold!" He yelped. You simply shushed him, rubbing your thumb back and forth over his slick, pink entrance.
"Shhh, don't worry baby. It's gonna feel real good, I promise."
You spent far too long simply teasing at the edges of pleasure, thumbs spreading Vash open and drawing slick trails of lube as you slowly worked him up. You massaged your fingertip over his entrance, rocking slowly back and forth and letting his body open up to you. Every time you got a stifled little sound of pleasure out of Vash you made sure to reward it with a praise of your own; knowing him he'd probably think his little sounds were annoying but you just couldn't get enough of them.
"You can-" He gasped, back arching and pressing towards you with the next swipe of your thumb over his twitching hole. "-Can try putting one in now. Please?"
"Of course, baby. Stay just like that for me, okay?"
You were almost surprised how quickly Vash's body yielded to you, your index finger sinking up to the second knuckle in his wet, pliant heat. You pulled back slow before pressing forward again, a gentle rhythmic rock that already had Vash keening. His cock was pushed down between his legs and pressed against the mattress, and on the next slow thrust you rubbed your wet thumb across the underside of his head. The response was instant, a muffled wail, a gush of pre-cum drizzling across the bedsheets, it damn near gave you a headrush yourself with how much it aroused you.
"Vash." You groaned, thrusting your finger forward and watching his entire body jolt again. "Fuck, you look so good. You should see yourself right now, baby. So fuckin' eager for me. You think you can do two?"
He nodded frantically, voice muffled by the pillow and garbled with pleasure but you were still able to make out something that sounded mostly like "Yes!" So you carefully pulled out, pressing your index and middle finger in this time, slow and steady. It was tighter this time, obviously, but Vash's walls gave away as you gently worked him open, his pink hole stretching around your fingers as you scissored them. You tried to crook your fingers down, towards his stomach. There was supposed to be a spot there, small, kind of spongy, if you could just get your fingers to curl the right way then…
"AAAH!?~"
Vash seemed as surprised by the noise he made as you were to hear it, clapping both hands over his mouth and wincing as his metal fingers clanged sharply against his teeth. The two of you fell perfectly still as your ears strained to hear if any of your room neighbors had awoken. From the opposite wall you could just barely make out Roberto's thunderous snoring, blissfully asleep and oblivious to you and Vash's night time activities.
"Holy shit, Vash."
"Sorry!" He hissed, the back of his neck and ears burning bright red. "I didn't know it was gonna feel like that!"
"No, no, it's okay! It was just… Fuck, that was really hot. You still good?"
He nodded, face still hidden mostly by the pillow. You crooked your fingers again to hit that same soft spot, and though the sound was much more muffled this time the effect it had on him was still obvious. He shuddered, a deep, desperate groan muffled into his pillow case as you thrust forward again, and again, grazing that soft spot half the time but hitting it dead on every other. Now that you'd found that spot, you didn't want to give it up so easily, especially with the noises it kept drilling out of Vash. The wet shlick of your fingers pounding his asshole joined the sound of each of your huffed breaths and his pleasured whimpers.
"You're so good for me, baby." You murmured, feeling woozy and delirious with power over how easily you were able to make the world's greatest gunman fall to his knees before you. Pleasure coiled low in your gut, hot and wanting, but you were more than willing to wait for it just for the chance to watch Vash fall apart. "So pretty, taking my fingers so well. I'd do this for you every night if you wanted it Vash, you sound so fucking wrecked."
You couldn't really hear him all that much anymore, but you could see the way his shoulders were shivering with each ragged breath and pulse of white-hot pleasure. You crooked both fingers hard, finding his prostate and pressing down, not letting up. His entire body quivered like he'd grabbed a live wire, and somewhere through the din of your own desire and his muffled noises you heard something concerning. A single soft, wet sniffle.
Immediately you pulled back, easing up on the pressure and watching his entire shivering body drop back into the mattress like he'd gone limp. His glasses had been pushed up into his bangs, his face fully hidden by the pillow. But without the continuous slick sound of your fingers you were able to hear another near-silent sniff.
"Vash, baby?" You carefully pulled your fingers out, resting your clean hand on the small of his back. "Are you okay?"
He nodded frantically in response, but otherwise stayed perfectly silent.
"Can you roll over for me?"
He jolted, falling perfectly still. You rubbed a slow, careful circle into his lower back with your palm.
"Please? I wanna see your face, Vash. For me?"
After a long, silent moment, Vash finally shifted, pulling his face away from where he'd hidden in the pillow and turning around to face you. He looked thoroughly fucked, face red with an indent of a fabric crease in his cheek where he'd pressed the pillow too close for too long. But he was also sniffling, snotty and wet as fresh, hot tears rolled over his cheeks. It made your heart clench, twisting painfully behind your ribcage as you reached up to cradle his face.
"Oh, baby. Baby. Hold on." You shifted up his body, straddling his waist so you could cradle his head to your chest. He let out an embarrassed little hum, but made no move to push you away. "Why didn't you say anything?"
"...It's embarrassing." He mumbled. "Didn't want you to see me all wrecked like this, it's seriously uncool."
"But I didn't hurt you?"
"Whuh-? No!" He jerked back, finally meeting your gaze with wide, red-rimmed eyes. He grabbed your wrists with each hand and held you close to him. "No, never you, Mayfly."
"So you're crying cause it feels good?"
He shifted anxiously at the question, gaze flitting around the dark room. "I, uh, I mean- Yeah? I kinda thought that was obvious, and you keep saying all that stuff that's like- like wow. Wow."
You didn't hurt him, not in the slightest. You'd brought him so much pleasure with your touch and your words that you were able to bring him to tears? That… That was…
"Vash, that's so fucking sexy."
"Bwuh?"
You shoved against his chest, pushing him back into the mattress as you shifted back down his hips. The low, pooling desire that had been purring in the pit of your belly erupted into a bonfire of pleasure as you situated yourself again, crooking two fingers into Vash's open hole while your other hand fisted his cock. He keened, hips jumping up into your grasp as his hands flew to cover his mouth.
"I wanna hear you. I wanna see you." You groaned, straddling one of Vash's legs so you could roll your hips down against his knee. It sent little white sparks of pleasure dancing up your spine and behind your eyelids, but they were nothing compared to the picture painted before you. "Lemme make you cry, baby boy. Let me see it."
"Oh, oh, oh fuck." He gasped, ragged and wet. Another wave of big, shimmery tears rolled over his cheeks, and he accidentally knocked his glasses all the way up and over the top of his head while trying to scrub them away. They clattered somewhere down in between the bedframe and the wall and you knew you'd have to get down on your hands and knees and feel around for them for him later but right now you just didn't care.
Now you had Vash, Vash the Stampede, the Humanoid Typhoon, whimpering and begging at your mercy.
Both his face and his cock were shimmery-wet and flushed red, punctured gasps and dribbles of pre-cum escaping with each harsh thrust of your fingers. You could feel his thigh strain and twitch desperately beneath your crotch, each jolt and shiver making your own pleasure burn all the hotter. Finally you could hear him, each ragged gasp, each wet sniffle and whine, each punched out, desperate wheeze of your name interspersed with little 'fuck!'s and 'please!'s and 'I love you!'s.
"Fff-uhhh, fuck please. Oh, oh, please if you don't let me cum I'm gonna break, please Mayfly!"
"Yes, yes Vash. Do it. Cum for me. That's my good boy!"
Twice, thrice more you thrust your fingers up hard against his prostate before his back arched off the bed and a shivering desperate groan escaped his lips as Vash unloaded himself all across his scar-marked chest. You slowed your hand but kept your fingers pressing, massaging, pulse after pulse of thick cum splattering up and across his chest as you wrung him dry. His hole twitched pathetically around your fingers as you worked, and you heard the sharp, metal creak of his lost-technology hand permanently denting a grip mark into the metal bed frame as he sobbed.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you!"
Finally, when you'd wrung him dry and he had absolutely nothing left to give, you released his cock from your grip and let it fall to his tummy with a wet smack. Carefully you removed your fingers, trailing a final thumb over his red, stretched hole before turning your attention back to Vash's face. It was impossible to tell where tears ended and sweat began, his eyelashes clumped and shimmering and his bangs plastered to his damp forehead. He moaned softly as you scooted towards him, giving him another soft, fluttering kiss on the lips.
"You're gonna… You're gonna get a lot more than you bargained for if you kiss me now, Mayfly." He teased. "But that's your problem, snot mine."
"You're so gross." You hummed, all the love and affection you could fit into three words swimming in your tone. You snuggled yourself up next to him, cradling your head in his arms. "I'll get a washcloth in a minute, okay? Get you all cleaned up."
"Mmh, okay." He let his head thunk into the valley of your chest, eyes fluttering shut. "Gimme… gimme fifteen minutes. Maybe twenty. Then it's your turn."
"You are way too fucked out to do anything for me, Vash. Just rest, I'll be fine, I know you'll make it up to me."
He whined, kicking one foot like a petulant child. "Aww, c'mon! It doesn't have to be much. What about my fingers?"
You could feel him smile slyly against your chest as he continued.
"...My mouth?"
A pulse of heat made itself known once more between your legs, and you hummed softly.
"Let's see if you can stay awake that long, wonderboy."
"What happened to 'baby boy'?"
"I'll call you baby boy when you're being good. Do you wanna be good for me?"
Despite how wrung out he was you could feel Vash shiver against you and oh, oh, the two of you would certainly be exploring that dynamic more in the future, so long as you had anything to say about it.
"Mhmm…" He hummed, barely awake.
"Alright. Then let's get you cleaned up, baby boy."
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watermelonsugacry · 1 year
Note
i’m getting the feeling that matilda is about 1d!reader, and i already know that it’s gonna break me
Building Harry's House: Matilda
A/N: Sorry this took forever to post but uni work is choking me without a sea view rn so tysm for being patient lovies 💚
SUMMARY: With the world knowing of their once secret relationship, Harry and YN navigate life together as an official couple and everything that comes with it. (9.6k)
GENRE: 1dbandmember!reader, famous!yn
WARNING: mention of abuse (yn gets slapped), excessive drinking, mention of drugs
Previous Song Here!🍷// Building Harry's House masterlist // SINCE 2010 masterlist
SIDE-NOTE: italicized is voice over commentary (I wrote this kind of like the Behind the Album documentary) bold are things Harry actually said irl
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Consistency is something that has always been a part of the spine in YN’s storybook. No matter how many years go by, Penny remains a burst of sunshine with a kaleidoscope of colors—Harry can see how YN came to have her own golden light.
Harry turns the wheel of the car with the palm of his hand and parks into the gravel driveway of Penny’s house. When YN finally saved up enough money to take her mum out of the rickety house she grew up in, she made sure to tell Penny that she could have any place she wanted—it didn’t even have to be in London anymore if that’s what she truly desired. Of course, her stepmum opted for a cottage in the countryside along with a forest for a backyard and greenery as far as the eyes can see. Colorful, homemade pottery, wind chimes, and furniture scatter the front porch, adding Penelope’s psychedelic touch to every little thing that YN’s seen since she was little. 
Harry’s been aware of how quiet his love’s been during their travels. After the unexpected phone call from her father in Italy, he didn’t hesitate to pack their things when she said she wanted to see her stepmum. He immediately called his private pilot and made plans to head to Doncaster as soon as possible. 
He watches as she exits the car without so much of a peep out of her mouth. He follows behind her as they make their way up the stone walkway that leads to the front of the house covered in greenery, much like YN’s home back in LA. He sees how YN pushes her fingers against the glass windchimes on the front porch before twisting the handle on the front door and walking in. 
He sees her stepmum round the hallway corner in a tank top that showcases the few tattoos she has scattered along her arms and tracksuit pants, her face bare and glowing. Her bare feet pad across the tiled floor as she readjusts her long black hair in a ponytail. When she kisses her stepdaughter’s cheek in greeting, Harry notices the yoga mat farther into the small living room. 
The place screams Penny: bohemian rugs, funky lamp shades and handmade paintings hung on every space the wall can fit.
After receiving the warmest welcome and being served tea out of her mismatched colorful mugs, the seal in YN’s silent mask finally cracks and it has her pacing across the kitchen floor. As he watches his love spill out everything on her mind that she’s kept in for the past two days and he can do nothing but lean against the doorframe of the kitchen and listen.
“Like, what could he possibly want from me? Money? Fame? A relationship with his daughter after eleven fookin’ years?” YN huffs out a laugh at the thought of her last suggestion with her hands on her hips. “Dunno how this bloke even got me personal number. That’s some hacker shite right there. And now I gotta change my number again and make sure that—”
“I gave him your number.” Penny blurts out from her seat at the table, making YN stop her pacing in the middle of the room. Her breathing stops altogether and the room goes silent with a faint sound of the glass windchimes from outside. Even Harry’s eyebrows furrow from his spot leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen.
“Whot? Wha—why the hell would you do that, Penny?” YN shakes her head as she tries to wrap her head around the fact that her step mum gave the one person she never wants to see again a leeway into her life.
“Look, I don’t support what he did or how he raised you—”
“He didn’t fookin’ raise me.”
“But he’s changed.”
“That’s like, the most bullshit reasoning anyone has ever given. And how would you even know that? Have you been talking to him?”
Penny fidgets with a strand of her long black hair and twists the ends as she mumbles out, “He’s reached out once or twice.”
“What the ‘ell? Whose side are you even on?”
With a hand on his hip, his other rubs against the stubble on his cheek as he watches the two women dispute back and forth. He doesn’t know if he should leave to give them some privacy or stay in case anything gets out of hand. 
He hates to see his love this way, pacing with frustrated fingers twisting the rings on her fingers so much that they’re sure to leave red marks on her skin. The crease between her eyebrows begging to be soothed out by his lips and the harsh nails raking through her hair demands to be switched with his gentle ones—the kind that has her falling asleep almost instantly.
“I was in the hippie scene, YN! I was young and naive and I fell in love with this bloke. I didn’t know what I wanted or what was right or what was wrong. But the one thing I knew for fooking sure was wanting you to be in me life.” Penny sighs out as she composes herself. “Look, you know I would never do anything to hurt yeh. He first reached out months ago; s’not like he called yesterday and I gave him yeh number willy nilly.”
“So what are yeh saying? That I actually go pay this man a little visit?” Before Penny could even begin her suggestion, YN scoffs and immediately shakes her head. “No.”
“YN—”
“No, not happening. No way.”
When Harry sees her stepmum let out a deep sigh and rubs a smoothing hand over her forehead, he thinks now might be a time for him to step in.
“YN, maybe you should listen to yeh mum—”
“Stay out of this, Harry!” YN snaps at him without so much as a second thought. “This is none of yeh damn business.”
“YN!” Penny scolds her stepdaughter but it’s no use as YN storms off to the backyard. It’s a rare thing for either one of them to snap at each other but when one does, it can be quite scary. Their last big argument was well over a year ago during the making of Harry’s last album and they’ve made it a habit not to revert back to their shitty way of communication. He almost lost her then and he’s sure as hell not going to let her go now. 
Penelope turns to Harry with a sorrowful expression, “Yeh did nothing wrong, Harry. She’s just stu—”
“Stubborn. Yeah, I know.” With a shrug of his shoulder and a sad smile, he says, “S’unfortunately, one of the things I love about her.” 
...
After walking off some of the steam around the massive yard, YN stumbles upon the garage she helped her stepmum convert into an art studio. Canvases the size of her line up against the wall (a painting in the works up on an easel), buckets of paints and brushes scattered every which way, and a pottery wheel in the center of the room. 
With her arms wrapped around herself, she walks along the shelving filled with miscellaneous items: Penny’s homemade ceramic creations, funky decor pieces, plants, books and the picture they used for the Story of My Life music video framed and displayed front and center.
She runs her finger across the array of books on the shelves, stopping and pulling out a particular book.
“Find anything yeh like?” YN looks up and gives her stepmum a small smile.
“Yeh still have this?” YN waves her old copy of Matilda. The pages were so well loved that one wrong blow of the wind could have the cover fall off of its spine.
“Of course, yeh wouldn’t let that thing go.” Penny takes a cautious step towards her stepdaughter and puts a gentle hand on her shoulder, “But there are some things that you just have let go, right?”
Penny’s ready for the young woman to blow up again, sigh out in frustration, and even walk out of the room. But it’s safe to say that she wasn’t expecting for her to look at her with glossy eyes and a trembling bottom lip.
“I'm scared, mum.” YN whispers out and Penny wastes no time pulling her into her arms.
“It’s okay to be scared, baby.” She reassures her stepdaughter. “But yeh don’t have to be. You have to choose whether or not you want him to have that power over yeh. You are so strong, so courageous. M’sorry that I didn’t warn you beforehand.”
“S’okay,” YN pulls back as she wipes at her cheeks. “If yeh would have warned me I would just keep avoiding him. I think it's a sign, right?"
“Follow yeh heart, baby. You know what to do." Penny brushes the strands of hair away from her daughter's face in a comforting way. "Have yeh told him about what happened?” She doesn't need to say his name for YN to know who she's referring to.
“Does he need to know?” Even YN cringes her face up at her words, already knowing the answer to her question. She blindly points to the general direction of the backyard. "M'gonna go talk to him."
Harry can’t help but think of how much Penny’s house reminds him of his mum’s place he bought for her all those years ago. Like YN’s stepmum, she didn’t want anything too grand in the busy life of London but a cozy cottage with a massive yard. He remembers hearing a lot about how the two mums bonded over gardening and wonders if the sunflowers growing off in the corner of the yard was his mum’s doing.
He gets pulled away from his thoughts on one of the patio couches when he hears the sliding back door open and he’s met with his love.
“Hi,” she breathes out.
“Hey.”
“M’sorry I snapped at you. Yeh did nothing wrong.” YN sighs as she keeps her gaze to her fidgety hands, her thumb twisting the ring on her index finger. “Yeh been nothing but supportive and you didn’t deserve that. M’sorry. Can you forgive me?”
He wordlessly pats the seat next to him and she’s quick to climb up close to him. He wraps an arm around her shoulders and gently holds the side of her head and presses a kiss to her temple. He’d forgive her for anything in a heartbeat; that’s how deep his love is for her. 
“S’alright,” Harry mumbles against her skin and feels her shoulders relax against him. “I forgive you.”
“Good. That would have been awkward if yeh didn’t,” YN huffs out a laugh through her nose in an attempt to ease the mood and he can’t hold back the small smile of his face. 
They stay like this for a bit, wrapped up in one another as they look out into the giant, forest-like backyard before them. As much as he’d like to pretend that everything’s alright and move on, he knows that it’s not healthy to. That’s all they’ve ever done during these past couple of years since the band started: suppressing thoughts and feelings in hopes they would disappear and everything would resolve itself on its own. In a perfect world, maybe, but they’ve wasted so much time doing that that they both see what they’ve been missing out on.
As much as he doesn’t want to pop the bubble they’ve created, he knows this needs to be done—or at least try to.
“YN?” When she hums in response, he puts a reassuring hand over hers and is rewarded with the eyes that make him weak in the knees. “Do you feel comfortable telling me about your dad?”
“He’s not me dad,” YN shakes her head instantly. “He didn’t—doesn’t deserve that name. He isn’t me dad. He’s my father and the only reason he even gets that much is because we share the same DNA.” 
YN lets out a deep sigh and avoids her boyfriend’s gaze to look out to the trees scattered around the backyard. She’s never talked to Harry or any of the boys about her father, nor has she ever wanted to. When topics of her family came up during interviews, music video projects, or even group dinners, Penny was only mentioned and brought along. Out of respect, nobody tried to pry her open for any other information about if she had a dad, any other siblings or relatives she was close with. It was only Penny and the Tomlinsons—no one else.
“I don’t want to talk about my father,” As Harry’s head runs around with unfulfilled questions a thousand miles a minute, ready to close the conversation and reassure her that she can when she’s ready, she manages to mumble out, “But I do feel comfortable with you. I love you so much it hurts sometimes and I’ve never felt anything like this before. I’m never going to want to talk about me father but since I plan to spend the rest of me life with you, I need to tell you about this part of my life.”
When Harry turns his body towards her to give her his full attention, her nerves begin to spike up again. But with his hand in hers, it grounds her and makes her feel an overwhelming sense of safety. So with that, she takes in a deep breath before lowering down the wall of her past that she’s kept hidden from the world for years. 
YN, Louis, and some of her other friends ride their bikes down the streets of Doncaster after getting out of school. It was a particularly cold day this time of year and they were all wrapped up in thick coats and scarves. Now, YN isn’t big on birthdays. She never celebrated them in her own household but the Tomlinson’s never failed to give her a cake, collectively sing her the infamous song, and give her a present or two. But this year is different. This year, YN turns 16 and Penny nearly jumped up and down in excitement when her stepdaughter asked if she could bring some friends over for a little party. 
Nobody has ever really been to her house, even Louis—her best friend since she was five years old—doesn’t spend too much time over there either. He was already so used to her suggesting to go over to his house instead that he began to question if she was feeling alright when she told him her plans.
The only reason why she’s even inviting everyone over is because her father said he’d be out late at work and won’t be back until the late hours of the night. Not that she wasn’t used to him not being home, it’s just when he was, he was accompanied by a beer bottle and bitter comments.
The group drops their bikes on the small yard in front of her house before trekking up the short, creaky steps of the porch as they chat and laugh lively amongst themselves. There’s a sense of relief not seeing anyone in the small living room once she pushed and twisted her key in the lock. Her eyebrows furrow for a second when her step mum isn’t there. She did her car in the driveway but brushes it off before turning to the group.
“Alright lads, yeh guys can just leave yeh stuff in here and I can go get us something to eat from the kitchen.” YN smiles at her small group of friends as they all happily agree. Too embarrassed to admit it to herself but she’s actually excited about her little get-together. She’s never hosted a party before and Jay and Penelope pre-made some snacks for her to pass around.
“Let me help yeh with tha—” Louis says as he begins to shrug off his puffer coat when Penny hurriedly comes into the living room. 
“YN,” The young girl furrows her eyebrows for the millionth time at the way her stepmum’s voice shakes and at the fake smile plastered on her face. “‘ello everyone, welcome. Hun, um can I talk with yeh for a second? Ah—Lou, stay there babe. The kitchen is actually a mess from earlier.”  
Louis stops in his tracks as he feels the confusion continues to rise up. Instead of questioning it, he takes it upon himself to entertain the group for the time being as his best friend and her stepmum step off to the side.
“Penny, what’s wrong? Yeh scaring meh.”
“Baby, um,” Penny anxiously pushes her long black hair behind her ears before looking over to her small group of friends in the living room. “There was a little hiccup at your father’s work today...”
No. Please, no.
“Well, wha’s goin’ on in here?” A voice sounds from somewhere behind her and the inevitable chill runs down her spine. 
 When YN turns around, her father stands before her. She’s quick to assess the situation: dirty white shirt, beer bottle in hand, eyes pink and puffy, and the stench of his breath.
“Having a little party without meh or whot?” Samuel taunts with a sickening smile before taking a swing from the dark bottle. Her stomach drops at the sight of her friends’ eyes widening at the man before them.
“Sammy, baby.” YN sees her step mum quickly come to his side and place a hand on her husband’s chest with a gentle voice. “Come on, we were just heading out, right?” 
Please, this can’t be happening. Not now.
“Come on, let YN have her party and we can go out for dinner like we planned.”
“No,” He says sternly, shrugging his arm away from her gentle hand. “S’me house. I paid for it. Why do I ‘ave to leave?” He slurs.
“S’alright, we were just leaving.” YN tries her hardest to not make this a bigger scene than it’s already becoming. “I actually forgot I left the snacks over at yeh house, Lou. Why don’t yeh lads head over there and I’ll be over in a sec.” 
“I don’t think—”
“Louis, I’ll meet up with you guys over there.” YN smiles reassuringly but her eyes tell a different story. He can tell that she’s just begging him to take the group away next door and let her deal with her father in the privacy of the worn down walls of the house. 
She feels ashamed and embarrassed by the way her friends awkwardly gather their things and shuffle out of the house. 
“Hanging around with that Louis bloke again?” Samuel provokes as soon as she closes the door behind the group. YN wouldn’t usually give in to one of his verbal pokes and digs, but whenever he brings up her best friend, it makes the fire in her chest burn hotter. 
“Got fired again?” She retaliates in a bored tone.
“Yeh being smart with meh? Yeh just think you’re so smart, huh?”
“Well I did skip a grade so what do you think?” YN tries to brush past her tispy father over to the kitchen to grab the pre-made snacks but it’s easier said than done. He immediately blocks her from walking any further.
“Do you think you’re better than me?” Her father yells in her face and the smell of alcohol washes over her stronger than before. It makes her scrunch her up nose up at the scent and she keeps her gaze on his dirty shirt than his eyes. “Yeh think yeh can do whatever yeh want and invite people over? Just like that? Yeh can’t just do anythin’ yeh want, Marilyn!” 
This wasn’t the first time Samuel has called YN by her mother’s name, drunk or not. Marilyn left her father when YN was merely four years old, too fed up by her husband to deal with him for another day and too selfish to bring her daughter to her new life. YN remembers the yelling from downstairs and loud shut of the front door. 
She remembers the bright blue and red lights from the police car flashing from her backyard later on in the night, and the two officers saying something about a car accident. She also remembers how it was the first time she ever saw her father cry. 
She doesn’t remember a lot about her mother. When she was older, she found a few pictures of her that her father kept away and needless to say, she was shocked. She almost thought they were pictures of her until she saw a younger version of her father next to her.
“Yeah, and you know what? I wish I was her.” YN bites back through her clenched teeth, finally having the strength to look up and meet his eyes. “I wish I was her so that I can fookin’ leave you like she did!”
As soon as the words leave her mouth, she feels a hot sting on her cheek. The strong impact startles her, her body reacting on its own from the unexpected action that her hands have to catch herself before her face can hit the ground.
“Samuel!”
She hears her step-mum yell, but it sounds muffled. Everything around her fades into a high ringing noise. It wasn’t uncommon for YN and her father to have some heated, verbal arguments. The both of them get red in the face and nasty words are exchanged that should never be said between a daughter and a father. As much they both had the urge to do so, never, never has he ever laid a hand on her until now. 
YN puts a hand on her burning cheek and whips her head around to look up at her father. His chest is heaving in anger, eyebrows deeply furrowed and she can practically see the steam radiating off of him.
As she picks herself off the floor and Penny is quick to her side but YN pushes the woman away from her while keeping her stern gaze on her father. 
Without another word, she marches towards the door. She thinks she hears Penny calling out after her, maybe even her father, but she doesn’t care. She swings the door open and makes headway towards her discarded bike.
She pushes her feet quickly against the pedals, her legs burn at how fast she’s going but continues on. She doesn’t even spare a glance at Louis’ house when she rides past it—her surroundings just all become a big moving blur. The tears on her cheeks feel ice cold as the wind whips at her face, but it simultaneously soothes the fresh marks on her skin. 
“I used to think that if I pedaled hard enough, I would fly away. Like some blue bird in fookin’ Snow White or something.” YN wraps her arms around her legs as she brings them to her chest, resting her chin on her knees as she continues to keep her gaze on Harry’s hand in hers. She hasn’t been able to look him in the eyes since she started to share her truth.
“Where did you go?” Harry asks softly.
“Well I wanted to run away, but I literally had nothing on me. So after circling around Donny for a bit, I sneaked into Louis’s room that night. Penny found me easily,” YN lets out a watery chuckle and wipes under her nose with her sleeve. “Was the first place she looked but I um, I didn’t come back home for about a month. Pen brought me clothes from home and stuff; she knew I didn’t want to go back there.”
“And your father?”
YN looks out to the orange sun set that peaks through the trees of the spacious yard and shrugs. “That was the last time I ever saw or spoke to him. Pen still stayed with him, I stayed at Jay’s and when the summer came around I went back when he wasn’t there. Two months later I had me XFactor audition and I never came back home.”
“M’so sorry, YN.” Harry’s index finger nudges under his nose to help keep his tears at bay.
YN shakes her head and kisses her teeth. “Don’t be. Y’know I hate it when people give me pity and all that. Makes me feel like I can’t hold me own. If anything, I just felt bad for me mum. Like I just left her there to go on tour with the band for two years before I could come up with the money to buy her a decent place of her own.”
“Baby, you don’t have to feel guilty for any of that, you know that right? You should never apologize for simply growing up and trying to move on, YN. Hey, look at me,” Harry gently nudges his hand under her chin to turn her gaze to him. “There’s no doubt in my mind that you can handle yourself. I mean, look how much you had to deal with and are still here; your golden light shining through the darkest of times. But you don’t have to do this on your own anymore.”
When he pulls her further into his arms, he hears her sniffle back her tears and snuggles further into his chest. His heart breaks at the sound and he feels so helpless, like he could have done something to ease her pain. She was hurting right under his nose and he didn’t do anything. But he’s reminded that this isn’t about him, it’s about her. He can’t imagine going through what she did for so many years. He doesn’t even want to humor the idea of something like that happening to his own mum.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t surprised by her response muffled into his chest.
“Can you um...do you mind coming with me to see him next week?”
...
The day to go meet up with her father for afternoon tea came around sooner than YN expected. She barely slept the night before, tossing and turning every which way to release the pain in her temples. If it bothered Harry so much, he did a good job at hiding it because with every wiggle and frustrated sigh, he adjusted their position along with her. He peppered loving kisses to anywhere her skin was near his mouth at the time and whispered sweet nothings in her ear, encouraging her to relax. 
It wasn’t until Harry tugged her on top of him, tucked her head into the crook of his neck and massaged his blunt fingers into her scalp and back that she was finally able to succumb to sleep when the sun began to peek through the sheer curtains. 
After a few phone calls from Jeff and work related matters, Harry walks back into the master bedroom of his home in London with his eyes on the phone in his hand. 
“Darling, wanna start heading o—?” He stops when he sees YN still in her pajamas and her hair messily clipped to the back of her head. She sits criss-cross on the floor with plastic packaging and cardboard all around her. “Baby? What are you doing? Why aren’t you dressed yet?”
“Look, I finally framed my ABBA poster. It’s been rolled up and stuck in that closet since forever and I found these fancy frames I ordered a while ago but never put them to use. I think I’m actually going to order more and just redo all my posters and stuff.” YN rambles on with her hands on her hips as she looks around at the items surrounding her.
“Baby—”
“Oh! And I have to show you this viral TikTok I saw earlier.” YN scrambles to her feet, moving around Harry and swipes her phone from the dresser behind him. “It’s a life hack on how we can maximize space under the bathroom cabinets because as much as I hate to admit it, we both have loads of skin care stuff and this way we can stay organized! And then—”
“YN,” Harry grabs a hold of her shoulders. When he sees her wide eyes look up at him, he gently takes her jaw in his hands. “S’okay to feel nervous. We don't have to go to your home if you don’t want to, lovie. You did nothing wrong and if you don’t want to go, there’s no harm in that.”
He sees the way her wide, tired eyes soften as he can practically see her working the gears in her head. 
“No. No, you’re right.” YN lets out a deep sigh before kissing her teeth. “I hate it when you’re right. Bruises me ego.” 
Harry huffs out a chuckle and presses a loving kiss to her forehead before heading towards the connected bathroom.
“Come on, I’ll even get the shower going for y—” Once Harry opens the glass door of the shower stall, he eyebrows knit together at the balled up pieces of clothing on the floor banded together by rubber bands. YN gives him a sheepish smile. 
“I learned how to tie-dye.”
...
It’s hard not to notice the way YN’s knee keeps bouncing and her hands fidget with the rings on her fingers. He doesn’t point out the way she keeps moving the dials for the AC or how she tweaks the volume of the music every other minute. 
He licks his lips before giving her thigh under his hand a loving squeeze and saying, “Baby, do you mind grabbing me that chapstick I put in yeh bag?”
YN rummages her purse in search of the tiny tube. Harry glances at his love and finds that while one hand is shoved sifting through her bag, the other one holds an abundance of items: her keys, her wallet, a snack-size bag of Haribos she bought at the airport and their two passports.
“I can’t bloody find this stupid, little—”
“Hey, hey. S’alright, forget about it yeah?” Harry takes the items in her hands and tosses them in the spacious footwell of the car. He intertwines his fingers with hers and brings their hands to his mouth. “Thought it would take your mind off of things but I guess it only made you more upset.” Harry chuckles, trying to lighten her anxiety by pressing kisses to each of her knuckles. 
“Sorry, I’m sorry. Fook.” YN brings the heel of her other hand to her forehead and closes her eyes. Harry can feel the frustration radiating off of her. It’s heavy and bleak, and not like his YN at all. He’s suddenly thinking of making a “wrong” turn to the airport to go back to Sunny California where her golden smile shined the most. Or even pulling over at the side of the road to say how there’s a suspicious noise coming from the engine and how they need to wait it out before they continue. “I know m’being a bother. I just can’t stay still. I feel so silly—”
“You are not silly for feeling the way you feel. This is a huge step for you and I just want to thank you for allowing me to be with you during this time. I never want yeh to go through this alone, I know you wouldn’t let me go through this thing alone if it was the other way around. And if this turns out bad, I got a few—” Harry pinches his index finger and thumb together and brings it to his lips. “—back home we can do after.” 
“Yeh could have told me that before we left?”
He laughs at her disappointed tone before making a turn onto the designated property. “I didn’t think we’d make a good impression on your father if we showed up stoned.”
“Holy shit,” YN ducks over to Harry’s driver’s side window at the mansion driveway they pull into. “Are you sure this is the right address?”
“You’re the one who put it into the GPS.”
Like second nature, Harry opens her car door and intertwines his hands with hers before making their way up the driveway.
“Now I feel fookin’ underdressed.” YN adjusts the cardigan that keeps falling off of her shoulder. 
“You look fucking gorgeous.” Harry leans down to plant a kiss to her cheek. 
“Oh, no.” YN cracks a smile and pinches at his lips with her knuckles. “I’ve been a bad influence on you, haven’t I?” 
“Wha’ do yeh fookin’ mean?” She giggles as Harry micks her Yorkshire accent. Him and the boys would like to make fun of her accent throughout the years but Harry’s always done it to defuse her anger, to bring a smile on her face and ease her bundle of nerves. “This is how I bloody talk and shit, innt?”
“Is it now?” 
“Aces, man.” Harry smiles brightly at the way she covers her laugh with the back of her hand as he reaches over to push the doorbell. “Just buzzin’ in excitement, aren’t yeh? Oh bloody ‘ell, bloody ‘ell.”
YN and Harry’s laughter gets cut off by the front door opening. There stands an older woman, probably in her late fifties. Her blonde hair looks like it was freshly done at the salon and looks like a fluffy yellow cloud on her head. The woman’s sparkly cocktail dress and matching red lip are way too fancy for an afternoon tea, and if it wasn’t already for the massive size of their house, YN might have been surprised at her attire. 
“Hello there. We were just expecting you both.” The woman’s American accent rings through YN’s ears. As the woman extends her manicured hand to greet the couple, YN’s eyes immediately go to the sparkly rock on her finger. “My name is Della and you beautiful young lady must be—”
“YN.” A voice continues from behind the pristine woman, the same voice that runs a chill down her spine as it did when she was a kid. 
A man appears at the doorway, his eyes widening like he almost expected her to not come at the last minute. 
She doesn’t know who this man in front of her is, but it certainly isn’t the man she remembers. There’s no beer bottle in his hand but a gold wedding band on his ring finger. Instead of his stained shirt, a freshly pressed white button-up and a sweater vest covers his chest. Her nose doesn’t burn from the stench of alcohol but of minty freshness. 
But even though his eyes aren’t surrounded by pinky, puffiness, she can tell that those are her father’s eyes.
“Hello, Samuel,” YN utters out the words with as much professionalism as she can, almost as if she were interviewing him for a prestigious job. 
“I’m—I’m so glad you were able to make it.” The older man huffs out a laugh of disbelief as he runs a nervous hand over his thinning hair; his clean, combed and styled hair. 
When Harry sees his love swallow thickly from uncomfortableness, he extends an outreached hand, “Hello, m’Harry. It’s nice to meet you Mr. and Mrs. Barlowe.”
YN just stands with her hand still clasped in his as the older couple shakes her boyfriend’s hand. 
“Please, please come inside.” Della steps aside and opens the door wider. 
YN can feel her skin tingle by the feel of her father’s eyes on her and she hates the way she’s having trouble meeting his eyes.
It’s an uncomfortable experience walking through the spacious house, everything clean and neat that it almost looks like no one has ever lived in it before. The couches and decorative carpets are white and aesthetically minimal, grand chandeliers hanging in every room they pass and a kitchen that looks like it’s never been used. She almost feels the need to take off her shoes in fear of leaving a mark on the perfectly clean titles. 
As YN looks around the museum-like house, she quickly looks down at the feeling of Harry giving their intertwined hands a reassuring squeeze. Even if he can’t do anything about her situation, she appreciates the fact that he’s letting her know that he’s here with her for any support she needs. 
Once the group sits down on the patio outside, YN almost jumps in her seat when two women with white aprons come out with trays ready for their tea. 
Della and Samuel move in sync with one another as they drink their tea. They might as well be robots, lifting their white tea cups with such delicateness and gently dabbing their cloth napkin around their lips precisely three times. It’s borderline scary, like a jumpscare out of a horror movie was bound to pop out any minute. 
But she has to admit, Della isn’t a stuck up monster as she initially thought upon meeting her at the front door. She’s actually a very sweet woman who smiles at her husband with so much love in her eyes.
YN’s learned that her father was working as a janitor at a law firm company shortly after she and Penny left his life. There, he was inspired to go to law school and with some help from some people in the company, he was able to attend. He soon worked his way up to become a partner at the firm and the small company became bigger than anyone ever expected. He met Della in 2015 when she was working as the firm’s secretary and married a couple months into dating. 
“He would always stop by my desk and take from the lollipop bowl I had there. He would always ask me to go out with him and I kept telling him no—I honestly think it was because he liked my accent and I was playing hard to get.” Della whispers not so quietly and it makes a chuckle bubble out from YN’s throat. It puts a smile on Harry’s face to see his love more relaxed, not totally letting her guard down but enough for her shoulders to come down from their pinched position. 
“What made you change your mind?” YN questions with a sincere smile and takes a sip of her honey-induced tea.
“This guy—” Della playfully slaps her husband's chest. “Got in front of the whole office, guitar in hand and sang to me. Oh the name of the song is slipping from my mind...how did it go again?” Della snaps her fingers as she racks her brain. “Um... don't care if it hurts, I wanna have control...”
“I want a perfect body,” Samuel says along.
“I want a perfect soul,” YN finishes and looks down at her lap. “That's um, that’s Creep by Radiohead.”
“If m’not mistaken, that was one of the first songs I taught you how to play on the guitar.” Her father smiles and sits up straighter in his seat. 
“Yeah, you let me use your old Lancaster.” Harry sees the way her smile falters at the mention of the memory. YN was in middle school when her father showed an uncommon amount of kindness one day. It was the day she rummaged through the garage and found the pictures of her mum along with his old eclectic guitar. Instead of scolding her to not look through his old things, he sat down with her and showed her the simple cords to the song (thanks to the years of practice from Penny, she was able to pick up the melody pretty quickly). They smiled, laughed, and bonded. But like many things in her life, consistency crept its way back in.
Samuel saw sight of a picture of his deceased wife peeking out from YN’s hoodie pocket and a switch flicked inside him. He suddenly snatched the beautiful guitar and smashed it against the ground. After three swings, the base completely disconnected from the neck. He walked out without so much as another word and left YN panting, frozen in a state of fear and shock.
“I loved that guitar,” YN says softly and she’s back at avoiding his gaze. 
“I did, too. S’a shame I don’t have it anymore. Sold it to an old buddy of mine back in the day.” Samuel sighs out in disappointment and YN’s eyebrows quickly knit together. When she looks up at him in confusion, he sees him shake his head in reminiscence.
“Hey, maybe you should treat yourself and buy a new one, huh?” Della puts a hand on her husband’s arm with an encouraging smile. “There’s got to be a store somewhere that sells some.”
“Reckon’ you’re right, D.” Samuel smiles. While he leans over to give her a kiss on the cheek, Harry too leans over to his love. “That’s a great idea.”
“Baby, y’alright? Wha’s wrong?” Harry whispers.
“S’just that—”
“Okay, so I would hate to have you both feel uncomfortable about this and Sam warned me not to bring it up,” Della chuckles. “But before you two leave, would you guys mind signing a CD for my kids? They just love both of your music and they would absolutely die if they knew you guys were here without a little something.”
“You have children?” YN raises her eyebrows in surprise.
“Two girls,” Della smiles brightly. “Sydney just got back from college—oh sorry, uni—last month and our little Abigail just turned the big 16 last week. We had a little surprise party for her and we invited all of her friends over. Oh, it was so much fun. And the cake was just so delicious—”
“Della, honey.” Samuel puts a gentle hand on his wife’s. “I think we’ve heard enough about the party—”
“I would actually love to hear more about it.” YN speaks up, straightening up her back and turning her full attention towards the older woman. 
“YN,” Harry whispers gently into his girlfriend and puts a comforting hand on the back of her chair.
Della nervously chuckles. "Oh, I don't know-"
“Please. Please, go on." YN insists. "Did you bake the cake yourselves? Did you spend all night the day before preparing little snacks for all of her friends, too? Did you guys buy her a sentimental gift? Samuel?”
YN gives her father an expected look, patiently waiting for his answer as he squirms in his seat. He nervously coughs into his hands before saying, “Um, we uh...well she just got her license not too long ago so we um...we put some money together to buy her a car.”
Della shifts her gaze back and forth between her husband and his daughter as the tension begins to build up. She sees the way YN purses her lips together and nods. 
“She had been asking for one for so long and since it was a special occasion, Samuel wanted to do something nice.” Della reasons with a wavering smile. “I’m sure that Sam here did something just as special for you when you turned her age. What did he give you?”
Harry—all of them really—can see the way Della tries her best to lighten the mood but right now he knows that she should just stop talking altogether. 
“A slap across the face.” YN nods nonchalantly, not at all bothered by the horrific look on the older woman's face. “Yeh know, the kind where yeh least expect it and the force of it is just so strong that it actually knocks yeh off your feet. Makes you hear a little ringing sound, too. Isn't that right, Samuel?”
Della looks over to her husband as he furrows his eyebrows and as much as Harry hates to admit it, the resemblance she has with her father’s current expression is undeniable. 
“I’m sorry,” Samuel shakes his head as he clears his throat. “I actually have no idea what you are referring to.”
The wind immediately gets knocked out from YN’s chest and if it wasn’t for Harry’s hand on her back, she’d think she was dreaming.
“M’sorry whot?” She scoffs. “So you’re telling me that you don’t remember the reason I left home?”
“Yeh went on to become a world famous singer. I always knew you would someday.” 
Harry can feel the anger radiating off her body as her father lies right through his teeth. Till this day, she can still hear his drunken words slurred to her:
You’re a waste of space.
Yeh think you’re gonna make it as a singer? You’re pathetic. 
You’re not worth it.
Just as Harry mentally (and almost physically) prepares himself from standing in between his girlfriend and her father when she goes off on him, he’s taken back when she lets out a laugh. She’s laughing. Her eyes squeezed shut with one hand over her stomach and the other over her mouth.
“Why is that funny?” Della looks around at the people surrounding the table.
“Sorry, m’sorry,” YN says in between giggles. “But that’s the biggest load of shit v’ever heard. So you’re saying that yeh don’t remember all of those years of yelling at me? Yelling at Penny? Drinking excessively? Breaking things violently in front of me? Hitting me?”
“Enough!” The loud bang to the table and the movement of the fine china startles everyone as Samuel’s voice booms throughout the patio space. “I invite you into me house to try to rekindle our past, to heal wounds and move on yet you bring up with shite?”
“Rekindle our past? Dunno how you expected to do that when you can’t even be honest about what yeh did to me! And heal wounds? Hate to break it to yeh Samuel, but those wounds aren't wounds anymore. They’re scars now. Already patched up and healed with no help from you.” YN lets out a small chuckle to herself before shaking her head. “I don’t know why I even came here. Della, you seem like a smart woman so I would advise yeh to have a little chat with your husband because he clearly isn’t the man that you know. Thank you for the tea.” And with that, YN’s chair screeches against the pavement before standing up.
“So that’s it?” Samuel spits. “And you? Harry, you’ve barely spoken a word since yeh got here.”
“How believe me, I have plenty to say,” Harry bites back as he stands up and puts a protective hand on YN’s back. “But out of respect for the love of my life, all m’gonna say is that you’re a piece of shit, man.” 
“Get the hell out of me house!” Samuel yells as he abruptly stands from his seat, the metal chair falling loudly to the ground behind him and he points towards the door.
“Glady.” YN scoffs and once Harry intertwines his hand with hers, they make their way out of the house. 
It’s a known fact that throughout the years of the two being in the public eye, they’ve been media trained to be the sweetest people they can be towards anyone they meet. Harry has been portrayed for years as a ‘bad boy’ who's never done anything bad and YN the ‘good girl’ with permanent innocence. It’s been rumored around the fandom since the band started that as sweet and soft spoken as they come off for their jobs, when they get mad—they get furious. So while many fans think it’s one of the many delusion based fandom-facts, no one has truly seen how scary the two can become when they get angry. 
“Wait!” The couple turns around to find Della quickly making her way over to their car but the two ignore her calling as Harry proceeds to open her door. “YN, please!”
With an annoyed look to her love and a sigh, YN relecutaly turns around, “Whot?”
“I’m so, so sorry about what happened back there. I had no idea he had done those awful things to you. If-if I would have known...”
It doesn’t take long for it to all click in YN’s head. Her expression softens as she recognizes the look in the woman’s eyes from a mile away. 
“You don’t know about me past.” She tilts her head to find Della’s eyes. “But you have experienced it, haven’t you?”
Harry’s surprised by the bold assumption, but when he flicks his gaze over to the prestigious woman, his heart strings pull greater than they have ever before.
“I don’t know what happened.” The older woman brings a shaky hand to her mouth as her eyes begin to water. “It first started shortly after we got married all those years ago. He was nothing like that when we met.”
“What I said back there is true. You are a smart woman. You know what to do. Think about your girls. They deserve the world, not this. Don’t let them go through what we did.” She surprises herself by wrapping her arms around the older woman, Della is quick to reciprocate. The hug doesn’t last longer than a couple of seconds,
but it was somehow something they both needed. So as she watches the couple drive away, Della is left with a truth she pushed back facing years in the making.
...
No matter how many years they’ve been working together, writing songs together and making music side by side, Harry still manages to get nervous showing her his work. But this isn’t any kind of love song he’s written about her in the past. This was on a deeper level of intimacy between them. This isn’t just about himself or his feelings of longing and loving towards her, but of her past.
He taps his leather journal in his open palm, gathers his tin container and with a deep breath in, he makes his way over to her where she’s seated in his backyard. In the middle of his closed-off yard, she’s sitting on a blanket he put out earlier, a guitar in her hands as she mindlessly plucks pretty melodies from the wired strings.
He leans down to press a kiss on her exposed shoulder before lifting the spaghetti strap of her dress back up and plopping down next to her. She easily flicks open the lid from the container and she smiles at the sight of a lighter and the familiar rolled up substances. 
“Romantic dinner for two, Mr. Styles?” She pauses her movements when he puts a hand on top of hers and she looks up at him expectantly.
“I uh, before we get into it, I actually wanted to share something with you first.” YN notices the familiar journal in his lap and gives him a cheeky smile.
“Another love song about meh? M’starting to think you fancy me.” When she notices his knowing look, she gives him a closed lipped smile. “Sorry, go ahead.”
When she sets down her guitar, he reaches out and takes into his lap instead. She’s pleasantly surprised by his actions. He usually writes on piano as his choice of instrument and feels the butterflies start to flap their wings in anticipation of what’s to come.
He leans over himself to make sure his fingers are placed correctly over the strings and right as he’s about to begin, he stops, “Don’t make fun of me, alright? M’still practicing.”
She laughs and grabs a hold of his chin as she plants a sweet kiss to his lips, “Promise I’ll keep my opinions to myself.” Her giggle is muffled when he pulls her back in for another kiss but sits back and patiently waits until he’s ready. 
With a final deep breath in, his fingers begin to pluck beautifully. He still needs a little finer tuning on his part but he’s doing a wonderful job so far. 
You were riding your bike to the sound of "It's No Big Deal"
And you're trying to lift off the ground on those old two wheels.
YN tilts her head at the lyrics but lets him continue on.
Nothing 'bout the way that you were treated ever seemed especially alarming 'til now.
So you tie up your hair and you smile like it's no big deal.
It’s been a few days after the visit to go see her father and after crying and venting to her mum about what happened, the couple hasn’t brought the topic up since. 
You don't have to be sorry for leavin' and growin' up, mmhm
There’s still so much she’s holding onto, so much still sitting on her chest that she's still unable to let go of. But Harry knows her more than anyone and understands her love language right down to the T: music.
Matilda, you talk of the pain like it's all alright
YN lets out a watery chuckle at the book reference, the one she loved so dearly as a child.
But I know that you feel like a piece of you's dead insidе.
You showed me a power that is strong еnough to bring sun to the darkest days.
It's none of my business, but it's just been on my mind.
“This song was inspired by an experience YN and I had with a mutual friend—a person who we disguised as Matilda by Roald Dahl.” Harry explains from his interview chair for the Harry’s House documentary. The couple agreed without a doubt that they wouldn’t fully explain that the song was about YN. They usually never do but the song speaks for itself. “I played it to a couple of friends and all of them cried. So I was like, ‘Okay, I think this is something to pay attention to.’”
You don't have to be sorry for doin' it on your own.
It shocks YN to realize that while she went through this part of her life by herself, she wasn’t alone. Ten years ago, YN gained brothers, a family consisting of the boys, her managers, tour and production crew, and the fans. She had a family by her side this entire time and she didn’t even register in her mind. 
You can throw a party full of everyone you know
You can start a family who will always show you love
You don't have to be sorry, no
As soon as he plays the last note, YN quickly shuffles on her knees over to him and wraps him up in her arms. She digs her face into the crook of his neck as he grips onto her shoulder blades, pulling her incredibly closer to him as he can. 
“People have so much guilt with things that they don't necessarily need to have guilt with sometimes. I think it's your right to protect the space around you and be protective of yourself and look after yourself.” 
“I’m sorry you went home to that.”
YN shakes her head reassuringly and takes his face in her hands. She’s been crying so much lately that she’s surprised that she hasn’t run out by now. She has so much love for the man in front of her. She was serious about before: she’s never felt this way about anyone ever before. YN presses her lips lovingly to his. “You are my home, Harry.”
Her favorite dimpled smile appears on his face and she presses her forehead to his. 
“You are my home, YN.” He says before pulling her back into him for more kisses.
“I think this song is going to touch a lot of people. It speaks to so many who’ve gone through toxic family members in their lives, people who weren’t loved in the way that they should have been loved,” YN gives the interview camera a sad smile. “S’a powerful one, this one.”
Back in the studio, YN can be seen in the recording room sitting in front of a Casio piano. With her chunky studio headphones on she plays along to Harry’s voice singing in her ears. 
Oh, there's a long way to go,
I don't believe that time will change your mind.
She can’t help but tuck in her lips in an attempt to hold back the tears that threaten to escape. 
In other words
I know they won't hurt you anymore as long as you can let them go.
YN takes in a shaky breath and closes her eyes as her fingers continues to press on the keys.
You can let it go.
In a cathartic way, she finally releases the bands that she kept from her past. She lets go of her abusive father and the power he held over her for all of those years. She lets go of her biological mother’s name and accepts that she was never her, she’s her own person. She lets go of the guilt of leaving home, of leaving Penny—of leaving her mum there with her father for two more years and lets gratefulness seep in for the fact that her mum isn’t in that position anymore. 
But most importantly, she lets go of the nasty feeling her father soaked her in. 
She’s not pathetic, she’s brave. She’s not worthless, but worthy. She’s not a waste of space, she lights up the room with her golden light.
Taglist:
“It’s a weird one, because with something like this, it’s like, ‘I want to give you something, I want to support you in some way, but it’s not necessarily my place to make it about me because it’s not my experience.’” Sometimes it’s just about listening.” Harry sneaks a discreet peek at his teary-eyed girlfriend from her seat somewhere behind the camera. “I hope that’s what I did here. If nothing else, it just says, ‘I was listening to you.’”
Next song here! 🇬🇧
@wobblymug @be-with-me-so-happily @ashtongivesmebutterflies @kiwiskiwiskiwi @darlingdesire @obsesseddd @hopefulwastelandcreation @cacapeepee @breezie-b00 @harrysfolklore @theekyliepage @sunshinemoonsposts @nervousspiderling @tbslonelyhes @tenaciousperfectionunknown @harrystylesrecs @certified-nalayak @itsjustsel @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @gviosca @behindmygreyeyes @twobluejeans @allisonxmcu @theemeraldbutterfly @jean-love @marvellover-sam @b-reads-things @reveriehs @rach2602 @thurhomish @perrypughstyles @luvonstyles @mxltifxnd0m @teamspideyman @c00chiemonster @juiceboxrry @s8tellite @folklorehrry @illicithallways @claramllera @eunoiaax @hoya122 @nichmedder @sleutherclaw @gloriousmoneyrascalbiscuit @harianaswhore @teawithcyb0rgs @vrittivsanghavi @vc55bughead @futuristiccroissantlampsludge @onecrazydirectioner @valluvsu @itsgabbysblog @awkwardbisexuall 
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h-harleybaby · 10 months
Note
HEY POOK!!
I found your page this morning and OH MAH LAWRD 😻 WOOF WOOF WOOF, ya know? 😔
Take your time with this request, because I don’t want you to get stressed..
But remember those Eric and Kyle oneshots? Where you are Kyle’s bf but they have their way with you? 😳 (wowzers)
WHAT ABOUT THAT WITH ERIC AND BUTTERS??? LIKE PLS ERICS GF AND BUTTERS JUST SO HAPPENS TO- AHH😩
keep me in ur thoughts 😏
- 🍒
OHHHHHH???????
I’VE BEEN LIKE- TRYING TO WRITE ANOTHER KYLE AND CARTMAN ONE BUT I SUCK AT WRITING KYLE- Cartman and Butters on the other hand???? OOOOOH MAMA (says this as I write whatever comes to mind while I’m at lunch and feeling really embarrassed about it)!! Also I’m like half sure you meant Butters x Cartmans gf reader right??? Sorry if I’m wronggg
Also dw I always think about my anons /hj I love y’all sm
Anyways, thanks to @tiniedemon and @hand-writxen for the ideas while writing. I was stuck on this for the LONGEST time and felt super bad about it. As per usual, I’M NOT SHIPPING THEM IN ANY WAY!!
HAS NSFW CONTENT
Butters x Cartmans gf reader
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• Let’s be honest, Cartmans a bit of an voyeur- so when Butters came up to him real apologetic about having a lil crush on his gf it gave him the best idea
• That’s how it started, all of y’all expected it to be a one and done thing BUT NOPE
• But who tf knew that Butters was super fucking horny??? Not you-
• Anyways, the both of them take turns on you ALL THE TIME! It’s mainly because they don’t hate each other so that makes it a hell of a lot easier
• Y’all ever heard of double penetration??? YEAH THATS THEM- JUST HEAR ME OUT ON IT
• They’re both kinda impatient (difference is although Butters might get antsy he can wait, Cartman refuses to) so like, double penetration does happen quite a bit
• Butters has like, no chill tho. He’s super obvious about his crush on you and how he feels about you, dudes ALL over you and it’s kinda cute ngl. It annoys Cartman tho so it usually ends in him making Butters watch y’all fuck or something and not letting him touch you to remind him who’s gf you are
• Butters gets so whiny too, he’s desperate to touch you and he’d do literally anything Cartman tells him just for the chance of a bj or something
• Cartmans a sadist so he usually makes Butters get on his knees and beg or something. That part’s not even sexual he just likes feeling the power 👀
• Tbh Butters is a really sweet, passionate guy so most of the time he puts your pleasure before his own. In his eyes, you come first so ofc he’s gonna make you cum first even if he has to edge himself
• But omg those few times where he really lets go and he’s really rough and uses you 😩
• Anyways so enough of that, ngl Cartman really likes watching Butters eat you out. Sometimes after he jerks off to y’all he has post nut clarity and thinks he’s a lil creepy but that’s like, immediately gone because he realizes he doesn’t care enough
• Honestly, I can see Butters fucking you but Cartman being completely in control the entire time
• He says he wants Butters to edge you? It’s done. He wants you guys to overstim yourselves, DONE
• He loves seeing Butters edge you and himself. Definitely likes seeing the tears of frustration and taunting you about it, calling you his crybaby
• Butters definitely whimpers while edging himself and gets really caught up in how good you feel, hehe Cartman edges himself a couple times too while y’all do 🤭
• Hear me out, he’s super mean about cumming. Literally will not let either of you cum until he does from you sucking him off
• I dunno, orgasm denial is just a huge thing here ya know? Like in his eyes (at the moment) y’all are just fuck toys entertaining him 💅
• Cartman is such a control freak but it’s honestly kinda hot to both of y’all. Butters is definitely more on the sub side a lot of the time so it works out for you guys
• NOW YOU GOTTA HEAR ME OUT AGAIN ‼️ the both of them like watching you get yourself off using toys. Also mutual masturbation ngl. They jerk each other off while watching you <33
• Like I said, orgasm denial is a huge thing so Cartman probably makes you get off on some sort of vibrator but doesn’t let you cum for the longest time because he wants you to beg. He starts rubbing off on Butters at some point and he starts doing similar things
• Would not be surprised if Cartman makes you get off on his shoe (def a new pair he only uses for that purpose because ew, germs) while the two jerk each other off
• EHEHEHE imagine Cartman makes you fuck yourself on a dildo and watches because he says you’re not ready or even worth him and Butters dicks yet
• Definitely says you have to work for it and likes watching you do it. I swear no amount of preparation prepares you for the both of them at the same time. FUCKING ANIMALS
• Anyways, Butters is probably secretly into pegging. Just hear me out ok???
• He really really wants you to peg him while Cartman fucks you (in Cas’ words, a lil train)
• Omg so like, jerking him off while you peg him and Cartman just jerking off the whole time because damn who knew you looked super hot while pegging someone
• I feel like Cartman really likes seeing his cum on your face and at the end of y’all’s… session the two of them usually jerk off on your face and tits
• Butters definitely thinks you look super pretty with cum on you while Cartman kinda sees it as a hot degrading thing
• Sometimes this kinda stuff happens in public where they’re both horny and they literally fight over who gets a blowjob from you because they don’t have much time or privacy
• Anyways, both literally love a good creampie so you best believe that both of them do creampie you. CONSTANTLY
• Round after round man, Cartman just really likes seeing it drip out of you. Probably smacks your pussy (somewhat lightly) just to giggle as you whimper before fingering it back in
• All that is just an instant boner for both of them. THEY’RE INSATIABLE I TELL YOU, INSATIABLE
• Before y’all go out sometimes they both cum in your underwear and make you wear it out after rubbing it in, this definitely isn’t something I saw on an NSFW twitter acc that made me giggle and kick my feet
• They’ve both ruined and owe you SO MANY panties because they keep using them to jerk off or they cum in them. FOR SOME REASON IT STAINS AND JUST RUINS THE PANTIES and both of them feel so proud of doing that
HERE YOU NASTY PEOPLE I’VE FED YOU WITH THIS DECENTLY LONG DICK HCS THING
All jokes aside I really liked writing this so ty for the request babes <33
210 notes · View notes
dublinskeetz · 3 months
Note
i’d love for you to write something about elijah hewson!!! 🩷🩷🩷
𝐘𝐎𝐔
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hiii ofc!! so since i did a smau x written fic for bobby i decided to do a full smau, hope thats ok with u! also i added some f1 babies in here cs why not JAJA. and by all means lovies, send more reqs!!! ♡
𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 - 𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘫𝘢𝘩 𝘩𝘦𝘸𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘢'𝘴 𝘣𝘪𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳
𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦 - 𝘱𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯, 𝘫𝘰𝘴𝘩, 𝘳𝘺𝘢𝘯, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘰𝘣𝘣𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘶𝘱
𝘧𝘤 - 𝘵𝘣𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘪 𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧 𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘴
𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 - 𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘫𝘢𝘩 𝘩𝘦𝘸𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘹 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳
yourusername
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liked by taylorswift, pierregasly and others
yourusername mirrors, cute boy gave me a cig, shhhh, me and tay, on his knees, i can never tie my shoes lol, grwm, mirror seflie?
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ynfan21 HELLO WHAT
ynfan45 MOTHER SOFTLAUNCHING ???
ynfan12 the end times have come
taylorswift 😉😉
ynfan100 WHAT DO U KNOW MA'AM
inhalerfan123 why does that look like eli omg
inhalerfan455 AND ITS HIS HANDWRITING ONT HE CIG?? inhalerfan2123 if its eli i will bleach my hair liked by joshjenkinson_, bobbyskeetz, ryanmcmahon_15 and 389 others inhalerfan2134 WHAT IS THIS A SIGN
landonorris when r u bringing mystery man to the paddock??
yourusername nevr cs u guys scare him danielricciardo lando's small body scares even me tbh rando12 how does she know dany and lando?? ynfan111 dany is like her uncle and she met lando through him
billieeilish the prettiest girl
bobbyskeetz dunno who gave u that cig but trashy handwriting
inhalerfan1123 HELLO BOBBY?? yourusername leave him alone hes just a girl
ynfan123 MOTHER IS IN THE STUDIO I REPEAT SHES IN THE FAWKING STUDIO
liked by yourusername
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yourusername has posted a photo to their sotry!
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caption: bought lvr a shirt🧘‍♀️
replies:
elijahhewson LOVE YOU POSTED THIS ON UR MAIN
bobbyskeetz ur an idiot my god
ynfan22 WHAT I FUCKING KNEW IT
yourusername has deleted this story!
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yourusername
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liked by elijahhewson and others
yourusername studio sesh for new music coming soon for u
view all 12382 comments
ynfan122 MOTHER WE SAW THAT
ynfan333 not her dropping a studio pic to throw us off....
inhalerfan111 UR SO SLAY FOR THAT SHIRT
joshjenkinson_ hm i wonder what the song is about
yourusername sorry who are you? ynfan2222 STOP IT WE KNOW UR LYING
ryanmcmahon_15 you are an idiot
phoebebridgers in love with u
yourusername my sweet baby jesus
oscarpiastri glad i wasn't the one who spoiled u two
this comment was deleted
ynfan1112 OSCAR I SAW THAAF
elijahhewson
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liked by inhalerdublin and others
elijahhewson cause my girl ruined her own softlaunch. love you my sweet girl and thank you for the past three years full of love. words will never be able to describe how grateful i am for you and your shitty jokes
view all 22391 comments
yourusername AWW ELI I LOVE YOU
yourusername stop im so sad we were supposed to be mysterious lvrs
elijahhewson its ok love theres always next time (you are stuck with me forever)
bobbyskeetz this is what i have had to endure for the last three fucing years.
inhalerfan22 i just shed a few tears
yourusername that twt thread was onto us
evehewson my favorite girl
yourusername my favorite hewson elijahhewson OIIIIII
ryanmcmahon_15 so glad she was the one who slipped up we almost posted it on the inhaler acc
ynfan333 she is so godly i cannot live
elijahhewson i know ynfan342 HELPP HES ONE OF USSSSS liked by yourusername
joshjenkinson_ ok now drop the song about eli yourusername
yourusername im going to MURDER YOU elijahhewson you wrote a song about me? 🥹🥹 yourusername it was supposed to be a SURPRISEAZFJE ynfan211 HELPP JOSH LEAKINGGG
yourusername
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liked by elijahhewson and others
yourusername in honor of me ruining my own soft launch, im happy to give u "sweet nothing" ft the taylor swift (thank u tay for agreeing) for my babygirl (thx josh for spoiling the surprise.) this song represents the small things this man has done for me that makes me happy in the world. eli ur kind words, pretty smile, and calmness that comes with being with you makes everything right in the world. thank u for loving me.
view all 42920 comments
elijahhewson i think i just shed a tear
yourusername BABYYY ryanmcmahon_15 hes not lying i just heard a sob
elijahhewson i love you so much
bobbyskeetz he is never gonna stfu about this.
ynfan234 FT TAYLOR SWIFT WHATTTT
inhalerfan288 "I FIND MYSELF RUNNING TO YOUR SWEET NOTHINGS" LET ME FUCKING DIE IN A HOLE.
taylorswift was such an honor to be apart of your love
yourusername thank u mother love u tons
joshjenkinson_ this is my formal apology.
yourusername WHERE?? joshjenkinson_ there. that was it.
danielricciardo can i finally post the two of u on daniel.jpg ??
ynfan223 jumping off a cliff
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THE ENDDD
i hope u enjoyed ittt lmk !!!
and send more reqs !!!
109 notes · View notes
shimako · 2 months
Text
BTS School Era Concepts - the timid first steps of finding oneself...
ahhhh...yes, the debut years! the rookie period, the years of trials and tribulations, the hip-hop school era, the years of sweet highs and bittersweet lows...or that part that I like to dub in my head as the tween years of their career, that awkward in-between period where you try to define yourself and to find your "voice".
reminder: as I've said in my post for BTS Now...an (awkward) fun concept I LOVE all the boys and this series of me talking about their concepts is just me expressing my thoughts, based on my personal tastes on the stylistic choices... we are here just for the vibes and having fun going down the memory lane.
disclaimer: the photos used are not my own ofc, credit goes to their creators.
so now that we cleared that out...shall we begin?
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I dunno how it is for the rest of you guys, but being from an older generation and not having my cringe years blasted all over sm is a blessing that I'm sure our boys will love to have. we all go through it, it's just that some of us have the lucky fortune of having them just in a physical photo album. my personal cringe moments come in the form of facebook memories and having to see again some cringe posts or comments that I made 😬. but, at the same time, I also feel endearment towards my past self - "you were trying so hard,eh?" and I like to think that our tannies feel the same way .
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some...choices were deff made here. I can kind of see what their stylist was thinking with the sportswear, trainers, baggy clothes, heavy bling-bling - all hip-hop coded, the make-up choice being to emphasize their grittyer selves, I can even close my eyes to the kitschy gaudy prints (are these versace knock-offs or real versace items?🤔)...but to me it just reads as a hip-hop cosplay, or at least the korean idol version of it. let's not talk about the weird choices that were made regarding namjoon's hair style or covering hobi's face (that man was beautiful then and is beautiful today and I hope the rumours that I've read/heard about this particular thing are not true).
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perhaps their over stylized hip-hop look is typical to the korean idol scene...I dunno much about that, bc as I've said in the post of how I found them, I don't know much about the k-pop scene and I'm mainly interested in them. one thing is for sure though... their determination, resilience, discipline, and their passion, their hunger to achieve their goals are unmistakable evident from the first bars they droped. and...just look at them! they have an endearing, precious quality to them - look at yoongi being so loud and showing so much skin (how many thirsty fans have played in slo-mo that part of choreo from we are bulletproof pt 2 when he shows his midriff?��), or at jungkook being a shy *coughs* I mean tough looking bean, or at jimin playing so hard the macho card.
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n.o. era continues the same thought line as their debut,regarding the styling, with very few variations. unfortunately, imo jimin drew the short straw because there is not one single photo in their photobook album that is flattering to him. 😥
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the only good thing about this period visually is that it gave me ginger yoongi with a bandana (so cute and gorgeous)...
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....and it also gave me pimp yoongi with a fur coat 😆. hey, no judging for where my mind takes me!
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dark and wild era took a more grungier,punk vibe with their styling, less emphasis on bling-blings and more put on form fitted styles, leather, ripped jeans, and generally an emo (jungkook) bad boys kind of vibe, accentuated with very heavy eyeliner (they went a little overboard with it imho). I really digg jimin's look in the bottom group concept foto.
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I think that jin embodies the best this concept here, helped also by the aloof cold persona that he is still playing, and I also like namjoon's punk hairstyle (in this instance, bc I've seen a clip of him with an over the top mohawk that didn't look good at all 🙈). the one they did dirty this time around is yoongi,and I've bitched enough when I talked about BTS Now 1 concept about the hair colour, hairstyle and eyeliner to not rehash-it again, but if the stylist went for a bad boy look with him with the face tattoo...they kind of missed the mark and instead ended up playing into a stereotype.
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imho they should have gone more for this type of bad boy look. yoongi can tap really well into his bad boy persona you just got to let his natural self shine.btw...I'm not mentioning poor taehyung at all, because those concepts looked really bad on him.
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luckily this era also gave us 'war of hormone' which imo is a much better suited style for them, that embodies much better youthfulness, rebellion and the I dont give af rock attitude much much better then what they were going for before.
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all of them look amazing!! and I love how taehyung and yoongi were just feeling themselves.
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and the less we say about their oral fixation, the better! also hobi with red hair...😗🤌🏻
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by the end of their school era, I think it's safe to say that signs of a 180° style and concept change were kind of there, and I can't wait to gush about it.
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thank you for your patience in reading this and I would love to hear your thoughts on this era if anybody is willing. also big thanks to @irmi3454 for that pic of jimin in a leather jacket.
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🫰🏻💜
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weeabooofficial · 3 months
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Eren Yeager and his Immaculate Ability to be a Nuisance. -J.K. [18+]
Tags: smut, closet sex, cockblocking, Eren should be a warning on his own, dirty talk, language, modern au
Pairing: Jean Kirstein x Reader
Masterlist
Word Count: 2.3K
A/N: Hi, hello. I'm not fucking dead like y'all thought. 2023 threw me for a loop with my writing, and then I had every intention of posting this for my birthday, back in July (If that tells you how long I have had this sitting in my docs). And then I wanted to post this in celebration of the finale of AoT coming out...
and then I fucking hated how it ended and had a four hour long rant over it.
So here we are in 2024, and I am finally posting this. Big thanks to my bff (best fishy friend) @offendedfishnoises for helping me with this all those months ago.
Eren Yeager must have thought he was a fucking genius, a comedic genius. Why else would he keep pulling the same bullshit over and over? 
It all started when you first met Jean, your friend was throwing a party at her apartment and you decided to go. The two of you met, and hit it off really well. So well in fact, that you and Jean were officially dating by the end of the month. 
Everyone seemed happy for you, everyone but one person. 
That person just so happened to be, Eren fucking Yeager. 
You and Eren had been friends for years, since you were children. It was only a matter of time before he took you getting into a relationship with the person he loved to annoy most, personally. To you, Eren took everything personally but that was just the way he seemed. 
Eren cared for you, he really did. Growing up together, as close as friends could be, he just wanted you to be taken care of. 
However, it wasn’t his fault that his favorite pastime was pissing Jean off to no end. 
You didn’t notice what he was doing at first, it being the occasional interruption while you were having a moment with your boyfriend, but it only escalated from there. 
It was Sasha’s annual Christmas Party, everyone in your friend group was invited and then some; to include you and Jean. The snow was falling, and the two of you were curled up together on the couch in front of the warm fire. 
Jean’s hand rested on your thigh, just wanting to keep you close. Your head was on his shoulder, inhaling his warm, musky scent that made your nerves tingle. 
You didn’t even get five minutes alone together before Eren came in with a plate filled with sweets and squeezed himself in between the two of you on the couch. 
This was fine, you told yourself. Eren was always like this, but that was before it got worse. 
By the end of the night, not only was Eren between you; but Armin, Mikasa, Sasha, Connie, Reiner, Annie, Berdtholdt, everyone you knew was squished between you and Jean, forcing you on opposite ends of the couch with the arms digging into your side as they chatted away. 
Jean shot you a look from the other side of the room, a sorrowful smile on his face. It wasn’t like you could actually do anything to stop all of them from sitting between you, but you knew exactly what they were doing. 
Eren was making it his life’s mission to make sure you and Jean didn’t have a moment alone together, and you didn’t realize how bad it would get until it was too late. 
No matter where you were, at work, the store, even at your apartment, every time you and Jean tried to do more than share a kiss, Eren was there butting his way in. 
Of course, Jean was angry and rightfully so. All he wanted to do was share a moment alone with you, and he was starting to get desperate. 
“Babe, this is getting fucking ridiculous. He is your friend. Stop him.” 
You stopped folding the shirt in your hands and gave Jean a look, “You’re friends with him too dumbass, besides what makes you think he will listen to me?” 
Putting the shirt he had in the stack, Jean shrugged. “I dunno, I thought you would maybe scare the shit out of him like you do everyone else.” 
“I do not–” 
“Connie and Sasha refused to talk to you for the first week you scared them so bad.” 
You gave Jean an unimpressed look. “That’s because I told them to stay out of my pantry, it’s not a free for all.” 
A grin found its way on Jean’s face. “But you’ll let me into your pantry,” Wrapping his arms around your waist, he waggled his eyebrows giving you that look. 
Before he got any further, you shoved his head away with your palm on his face. “Any chance you had getting laid tonight, ended with that comment.” 
Jean looked at you with a pout on his lips, “Aw come on babe, you know you can’t resist me.” 
“I can and will,” you hummed, continuing to fold the clothes. 
You loved Eren, you really did. Even when he was being a little shit, you cared for him like a brother.
But that love was dwindling, and it was dwindling fast. 
There was only so much you could take, between your job at the office and Jean’s at the family company, you almost never saw each other. That left no time to talk, not time together and no time for romance. 
And with Eren making his presence known every single fucking time you were close to doing anything, your patience was wearing thin. 
Jean was just as desperate as you were, so when you showed up one day with lunch wearing a tight little skirt and killer heels to match, Jean all but dragged you to the closest closet and locked the door. 
His lips were on yours in a matter of seconds as he bunched the bottom of your skirt towards your hips. 
Jean’s touch on your thighs was like fire, with weeks of denial igniting it within you. Prying your mouth open with his own, Jean slotted his hips between yours as he swallowed each little sound you made. 
“Fuck–” you gasped against his lips, feeling his cock grind against your heat through his pants. The rough material adding friction to the area which desperately needed attention. 
“Jean please–” you begged, hands gripping the back of his shirt pulling at the material as if it was personally offending you. 
With a hand still holding you against the wall, Jean made quick work of undoing the belt of his pants before popping the button and pulling the zipper. 
“Hold on baby, I’ll take care of you.” Shoving his pants down just enough, his cock sprung out of his pants slapping against the skin of your thigh. Jean moved the string of your thong aside and swiped his fingers through your folds. 
A gasp tore through you, your body jolting in his hold. 
“Fuck–” he choked, feeling your slick pool between your thighs. “This pussy is already so wet for me, you that desperate for my cock?” 
His breath fanned over your face as you ground your hips against his hands, pulling at the hairs on the nape of his neck as he thrusted two digits into your cunt. 
“Jean–Jean please!” you begged, looking up at him with those pleading eyes that had him so weak, he’d do whatever you wanted. 
Banging his fist against the wall, Jean couldn’t ignore the doe-eyed look you had. So sweet, so innocent, when he knew you were anything but in the privacy of your own home. 
Jean knew the way you looked when you were bent over, taking his cock round after round begging him for more; to fill you with his hot cum to the point it spilled out around his shaft. Jean knew the way you looked, when you were on your knees sucking his cock like it was your day job. The way your pretty lashes fluttered up at him as you made sinful movements with that devilish tongue of yours that had him bucking his hips making you gag around him. 
It was the same way you were looking at him, and he had barely touched you. 
Somewhere deep in the back of his mind, Jean thought of making you wait this long again if it got you looking like this for him once more. 
Using his hips, and other hand, Jean hoisted you higher up his hips before thrusting into you. The sounds you made made his head spin, fuck you sounded to pretty too. Biting his fist that was against the wall, Jean held in his moans as he watched you absolutely lose it finally being able to feel him this deeply within you. 
You paid no mind to the uncomfortable feeling of your skirt pressing against your stomach as you began to rock your hips, wordlessly trying to convince him to go deeper. 
“Fuck–, missed this pussy so bad.” his breath tingled against your ear, wracking your body in shudders as he continued to thrust his hips, stretching you to take his cock.
Your moans filled the closet, the soft grunts Jean made in your ear as he fucked you for the first time in what felt like forever. Hands grabbing at whatever you could reach, you pulled his lips down to yours, senses filled with the smell of his cologne and the taste of his morning coffee on his tongue as it bullied its way into your mouth, laying his claim on you. 
Jean’s hand moved from your waist, to the button up blouse you were wearing. “Wanna see these pretty tits baby–” he gasped between kisses. “Wanna hold them, play with them, squeeze them. You’d like that, yeah?” 
All you could manage was a nod as Jean ripped the buttons of your blouse open, a few popping off and landing on the floor. Neither of you cared, as he hastily pulled your bra down your shoulders and chest until he could grasp your tits in his hands. 
The sounds from the hall outside were drowned out by the blood pumping in your ears, not caring one bit who heard Jean fucking you senseless in a tiny closet. The two of you were so lost in the feeling of each other's bodies, you didn’t notice the lock get picked with the handle slowly turning before you were blinded by light coming in from the hall. 
Jean quickly used his body to cover yours, keeping your dignity intact not caring about his one bit. 
Over his shoulder, you saw the face of Eren Fucking Yeager and the slight smirk in his face when he realized what he caught the two of you doing. 
“I was wondering where–” 
“Get the fuck out Yeager,” Jean hissed, grateful that his arms were filled with you so he couldn’t turn around and knock his teeth in. 
“Oh come on, Jean. You don’t want to share?” 
That was your last straw. 
“Eren, get lost or I will rip your dick off and feed it to the dogs.” 
You watched the expression on his face morph from his usual cocky confidence, to a flicker of fear. It was a far-fetched threat, sure, but with the death glare you were giving him, Eren wasn’t sure if you were serious or not. 
And he didn’t want to find out. 
Clearing his throat, Eren suddenly looked away before shutting the closet. “Carry on,” before you heard it lock once again. 
Only taking a few seconds to recover, Jean readjusted his grip on you before looking down at you with a grin. 
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think with the way your pussy tightened around my dick that you actually liked getting caught.” 
Immediately, your face got hot. Shaking your head, you opened your mouth to respond before it was cut off with Jean grabbing your jaw at an angle that kept your mouth open. 
“Don’t bother lying baby, I know you liked it.” 
Your eyes widened at the look on his face, squirming under his heated gaze. “No I–” 
“Maybe I should fuck you in my office next time,” he hummed. Within moments, Jean pulled out of you before flipping your body around and thrusting into you from behind. “Bend you over the desk, taking you like this for hours as everyone around us hears how well you take my cock, hm?” 
Bracing yourself on the wall, you couldn’t ignore the way your walls fluttered around his dick when he said those words. 
Jean chuckled, wrapping his arms around you pressing his hips into your ass as he fondled your tits. Enjoying the little gasp you let out feeling him tug on your nipples, you arched into his touch feeling a hand travel up your chest and throat before forcing two of his fingers in your mouth. 
“Maybe, I could have you suck me off with this pretty little tongue of yours.” Your mouth was forced open, his fingers pressing down on your tongue refusing to let your moans be softened. Jean wanted to hear every sound you made, as he speared you open on his dick. 
The moans you let out had Jean cursing, his hips stuttering as he got close to the edge. “You’d like that wouldn’t you? Sucking me off under my desk as you hump my foot, desperate for me to touch you?” 
You tried pleading with him, your orgasm so close now that you were incoherent. A couple more thrusts of his hips as you choking out his name as your orgasm washed over you in a violent wave of ecstasy, coating his dick in the creamy white substance. 
“Fuck, baby. Just a little more and I’ll fill you so full, it’ll drip down your legs.” 
The debauched moan you let out was drowned out by Jean’s grunts and growls as he kept pistoning his hips against yours, before he came with a loud cry, burying himself to the hilt making sure you took every drop of his seed. 
As the room quieted down, you heard his breaths in your ear as Jean pressed kisses to your shoulder. 
“You–,” he panted, “You are so fucking amazing baby.” 
You were at a loss for words, nothing on your mind but how good it felt to be filled by Jean. Tilting your face to look at him, Jean smiled down at you while his bangs hung in his face. “I love you so fucking much,” 
Smiling against his lips, you hummed in agreement. “I love you, too.”
Tag list: Because I must bully you all with my writng, suck it up and love me anyway. @pinksthetics @awalkingshame @hex-the-rabbit @meowzfordayz @nanaoise08squad@loafingdragon @narakussy
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daddysgoty0u · 4 months
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Christy had been through a lot. She was only 21, but she felt she had lived an entire life. She was 5'2, 115 pounds, blonde curly hair, with gorgeous thighs, for she was a cheerleader at St. Martin ’s University in Arkansas . She was the classic Southern Belle, complete with the accent. However, she hadn’t been using it over the past few days, because she had been depressed. As she lay up in her dorm room, Christy lamented over the coming midterms.
“I can’t believe midterms are already here. I am so unprepared.” She looked at the clock and read that it was 3 pm . She then contemplated studying for her Italian midterm, which happened to be the next day, but she fell asleep instead.
When Christy awoke, she yawned, stretched, rubbed her eyes and picked up her Italian textbook. Looking at the clock, she realized that it was 9 pm . She had slept for over four hours! “Oh my gosh”, she thought.
“I have got to study from now until the exam just to get through everything.” Whimpering, she crammed for the next 10 hours, taking small bathroom and snack breaks, only to walk into the exam room totally exhausted. She finished the exam with plenty of time left, which worried her, but, at that point, she didn’t care. The professor told the class that their grades would be posted via the internet in 3 hours, so check back. Trembling, Christy left the classroom to go find her some coffee, for she had three hours to wait.
Three hours later, Christy was back in her dorm room, logging onto her computer to check her grade. She had showered in the meantime, and had changed clothes from the plaid pajama pants and tank top into some nice pants and a blouse. As she logged onto her Italian course site, her heart sank into her stomach.
“A fucking 62??!!” she cried out.
“No way!” She slammed her chair against the table and threw herself onto her bed, exhausted and crying.
Christy assumed she cried herself to sleep, because she woke up from a doze with a start. Her clock read 12 pm . She assumed she had dozed off, but it wasn’t restful. Over the next few nights, Christy lost sleep and, even when she fell asleep from pure exhaustion, she didn’t rest. She woke up continuously tired and never any better off than when she went to sleep. She decided to go see the school doctor and see what he could prescribe her.
As Christy sat in the doctor’s office, she was shivering because she was cold. Finally, the doctor came in. She knew Doctor Mitchell well, for she had to get her birth control from him in addition to some antibiotics she had gotten a few months earlier for a bacterial infection she had come across.
“Hello, Christy, how’s life treating you?” Dr. Mitchell asked.
“Not too well, Mike,” Christy and the doctor were on a first-name basis. He gave her a funny look. She responded, “Ever since last month, I have been having trouble with sleep. I can’t fall asleep. Its like my mind works overtime and won’t let me drown anything out so I can get some rest.”
Immediately the doctor suggested a stress test, which Christy gladly accepted.
As Doctor Mitchell examined Christy’s levels of stress over a number of questions via a machine that examined her heartrate, he came to her with a diagnosis.
“Christy, you need a break.”
“Tell me something I don’t know, Mike”.
“Well, you know I am a psychologist in addition to a general practice doctor, and there’s this new kind of treatment for people who are needing an escape from daily life.”
Christy was nervous, kind of glancing around the room.
“Recreational pharmaceuticals, Mike?” she laughed.
“No, actually its hypnotism. Called YSR; or Youthful Stress Relief.”
Christy looked at him and got down immediately.
“No way, Mike. I am not letting you hypnotize me into anything.”
Mike stopped her.
“But you don’t understand. It’s for your own good. And plenty of research has been done to prove that its safe.”
“I dunno Mike,” Christy groaned.
“I don’t have the time.
“Look,” he said as he took her into his arms.
“Midterms are over. I will come over tomorrow night and explain everything to you then, okay?” Reluctantly, Christy agreed.
The next night came, and Christy answered the door when Mike knocked. In his arms he had books, a tape, and some candles. Looking at him awkwardly, Christy let him in.
“Now, here’s what YSR will do for you. When was the last time you were stress free?”
“Um, when I was probably 7, because with school, comes stress.”
“Good. Okay, you are 21, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay. I am going to hypnotize you and regress you mentally so that less stress is placed on you mentally each day. You will have the mind of 2-year-old by the end of it. And the best part is, its completely reversible, so you can come back to regular, everyday life whenever you want.”
“Hell, at this point, if it allows me to sleep better, I don’t care what it does,” Christy replied.
“Let’s go”.
“…and when I snap my fingers, you will wake up, completely in the mind of a 7-year-old.” <SNAP!>
“WHOA!” cried out Christy. She covered her mouth at the sound of her voice, and then giggled and got up, grabbing Mike’s hands.
“Let’s go play tag!” she cried out. Mike smiled. ‘exactly as it should be,’ he thought to himself.
“But Christy, its nearly your bed-time.” You need to go to bed, okay. Go get your jammies on so you can go to bed, okay?“
“Otay”, she replied, and disappeared into her bedroom, where, not five seconds later, she returned in an oversized t-shirt with panties on underneath.
“Now, we can sit here and watch tv if you want, but you have to promise to go to sleep.” The two of them sat down on the couch and, in a matter or moments, Christy was out, sleeping soundly.
The next morning, Mike brought Christy out of her hypnotized state, asking her how she slept.
“Mike, I don’t know what you did, but whatever it was, I feel awesome.”
“Well rested?”
“Very.”
“Good, then should we do this once every two weeks?” Mike asked.
“Sure, I am sure I will need it again in a couple of weeks. Want some breakfast? It’s the least I can do for you.” The two ate breakfast together, with Christy cooking eggs for Mike and herself.
Over the next few months, Christy began to call on Mike for more of the YSR. She was fixing to graduate, and time was running out for her to finish her final graduation project. Now, as time had gone on, Mike had not been charging Christy for his services. He accepted breakfast and wrote it off as a favor to a friend. However, he began to develop a crush on his patient, which is strictly forbidden by the Hippocratic Oath, which all doctors take when they are licensed. One night, he tried to move in on his crush, with some simple words.
“Christy, I have to tell you something,” he started.
“What is it Mike?”
“I…er…think I have a crush on you.”
This totally shocked Christy, who merely thought of Mike as her best friend and doctor.
“Well, I hate to break it to you, Mike, but this patient-doctor relationship is as far as we need to get, okay?” Mike was infuriated, but didn’t let it show.
“That’s fine, if that’s how you feel, I just felt the need to tell you, okay? Now onto our YSR for the evening.
<SNAP> Suddenly, Christy was awake. She was aware of everything that went on around her, seeing Mike sitting on her couch with a sly grin made her worried a little bit, but she was okay. As Christy decided to stand up she looked at Mike and spoke to him. She meant to say, ‘You want some breakfast, Mike?’, but it came out as, "Ooosu bekfass daddy?” She immediately slapped her hands to her mouth as she not only couldn’t form the words correctly, but heard the babyishness of her voice. She went to stand up immediately, not likeing the sound of her voice or her incapability to talk, and immediately fell back down with a padded <THUD>. She tried again, this time clumsily putting her hands in front of her and raising her butt in the air t gain balance. All of this was involuntary, as if her mind was forcing her body to do it before she could react. She was able to get upright, only to fall back down with another <THUD>. She noticed that she was sitting a few inched higher than usual and that something was different about her clothing. Christy looked down at her waist and saw…diapers! She was wearing what felt like two thick disposable diapers and a white t-shirt that barely covered her top.
“So, how’s my baby doing this morning?” Mike asked as he got up and moved over to her.
“You talked to me like I was some kind of baby, so I figured you would get a kick out of being one for a while. Maybe you should learn not to be so rude to people…baby. At this, Christy wanted to cry, but she fought the urge and, although her face scrunched up involuntarily, she prevented herself from crying.
"Now, let’s get up, shall we?” Mike said as he bent over to help Christy up. She wobbled as she stood there, simply being held up by Mike’s single hand held in hers. She was dependant on him at this point even to stand.
“Can you stand up while I go get you some food?” He mockingly asked. Christy lazily nodded her head, and Mike left. Almost the instant that he let go and was out of her sight, again, she wanted to cry uncontrollably, but again she fought it. Again this uncontrollable urge to cry came over her, but she fought it, only to fall down on her padded behind again. Mike returned with a bottle of “formula” that he had specially mixed, just for her. As Christy thirstily drank it down, she realized that she had been hungry, and that this formula strangely satisfied her hunger. As soon as Mike saw that she had finished her bottle, he led her by the hand into her guest room, which only had a tv in it. Aside from the tv, the room was bare.
Christy tried her best, once Mike left, to stand up so she could leave and find help, but the cartoons that he had turned on grabbed her attention. She was stuck to the tv, her eyes never leaving the screen. About thirty minutes later, she felt the urge to pee. She struggled with the words, but was finally able to call out, “Daddy!” and Mike came into the room.
“Me need potty!” she blurted out, holding her legs together while squirming. All of a sudden, as soon as she finished saying ‘potty’, she felt her bladder give way and herself flood her diapers. The warm urine flushed its way around the back of her diapers and, since she was sitting down, gushed towards the front. Christy tried her hardest to clench her bladder shut, but her muscles wouldn’t work. They simply wouldn’t work. Mike smiled and left. It didn’t take long, but minutes later, about 45 to be exact, Christy felt her bowels begin to rumble. 'Oh no’ she thought, 'I am not honestly gonna shit on myself, am I?’. She tried to work herself up frantically, feeling the pressure on her bowels increase with each passing second. She worked herself up to her feet by pushing her thickly diapered butt out in the air and pushing down with her hands. As she got to her feet, she began to wobble-step towards the door, all the while, her bowels were screaming to be released. Suddenly, one of her pigeon-toed steps caught the other foot, and she fell backwards again onto her butt. All of a sudden, her bowels gave way, expelling the last two days worth of adult food, and the formula that she had eaten earlier. It felt like five minutes, but for the entirety of that five minutes, Christy filled her diapers to the point of bursting.
21 Days Later - Daily Diapers Stories
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saytrrose · 3 months
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Someone reblogged your Kinger and Queenie comic and I saw your reblog on curious anons, so here I am.
Anyways, dunno if ya have done this before but ya got headcanons on Kinger's relationships with everyone on TADC?
Like, besties with someone in specific, we get along even if he doesn't know we get along, that kind of stuff.
Ooh!! I really love this question eee
Kinger Headcanons! With.. EVERYONE! (Im including the abstracted characters, they are so so silly in my brain rn and i have a strong perception of them)
—————
Queenie:
- Queenie and him started out with a mutual.. dislike? Dislike from Queenies side, and general uncomfort from Kingers side.
- From the start their relationship was more so small bickering, mutual pining even, They both possess a sarcastic side to them, (I personally believe before Kinger went crazy that he used to be rather analytical and in control, a lot smarter yk.)
- They both were constantly compared for their likeness, which of course gave them a sense of need to.. prove themselves better? To stand out? Saw eachother as an obstacle until FINALLY they tried actually having a conversation.
- Their relationship dynamic is very much golden retriever x black cat.
- Once they actually were in a relationship, Queenie definitely keeps her sassy personality but she’s very soft spoken around Kinger.
- Kinger also changes, they act more differently around eachother than anyone else. Their general idea of “we are different” changes to “we are the only ones that truly understand one another”
- Oh they bickered SO MUCH it’s so silly, Queenie loves to tease, seem like she has a large ego but in private around just him she’s very very vulnerable and relies on him for comfort. She doesn’t feel like she needs to act a specific way around him or ever get really defensive.
- Kingers personality doesn’t change as much as Queenies does around people, however he does lean into feeling more vulnerable around her as well. He tries to seem calm and mostly friendly, but in private with just her he feels like he can actually rant and get emotional.
—————
Wriggle:
- Kinger and Wriggle have a very funny dynamic, as Wriggle is Queenies “best friend is the whole wide world” (quoted by Wriggle, not Queenie)
-They often like to wriggle in between Kinger and Queenie, (hahaha look at me I’m so funny I love puns please don’t unfollow me) they are bit clingy towards Queenie which Kinger doesn’t particularly mind in the slightest.
- Putting Queenie aside, those two I’d say are good friends too. Wriggle loves to ramble on and on to Kinger about things they enjoy or made or did- the list is endless and it’s usually Kinger when it comes to this because atleast Kinger looks like he’s paying attention, whereas Queenie has that.. blank stare.. (autism, your honor)
- Think of Wriggle as a wingman also, They know Queenie well, and things she wouldn’t tell Kinger? Thats Wriggles job. For example, Queenie talks about how it’d be cute to receive flowers but doesn’t want to outright ask for them, Wriggle goes to Kinger and keeps jabbing him in the side with their tail until his attention is gained, and tells him “you know what you should do!!” you get what happens fr
- The wingman job was specifically asked of by Kinger, to which Wriggle, being the snooty little “hmmm idk if I like you enough” worm they are.. obviously decides not to share Queenies private words. (I’m still deciding if Kinger persuaded Wriggle into the idea that it’d make Queenie happier in the long run or if he just dropped to his knees like PLEASEPLEASEOLEAZEPLEASE-)
—————
Slinky:
- Slinky and Kinger have a good relationship, they aren’t really friends that hang out on their own time, but if they are ever in a group then they’d interact.
- Slinky loves to knit and crochet, and she made a task to knit everyone a tiny plush to have. She gave Kinger a tiny stag beetle plush, and he adores it so much, it’s right on his bed. ☠️ (perhaps I could make another post listing all the plushies Slinky made for everyone but idkkk only if it’s inquired about)
- They are the two shyest? Of the whole group, not inherently shy but the most quiet unless spoken to and definitely most anxiety filled. They have an unspoken code of certain looks they give eachother that they can instantly understand.
- In Kingers full honesty, if he was given the chance to choose a person to be in his team for an adventure and Queenie was taken, he’d choose Slinky. She’s just a very patient individual and he thinks he goes well with someone like that.
—————
Kaufmo:
- Their friendship is like trying to combine oil and water.. they don’t mix easily… They have respect for one another, an extent of it and Kinger probably has more than Kaufmo but they have very different conflicting personalities.
- Kaufmo is prickly and pessimistic most of the time, however I do want to think around Kinger he hold back a little. These two ended up being the last of the old cast, they’ve been through alot together…
- Kaufmo hates lovey dovey stuff, god forbid Kinger even rests a hand on Queenies side or something- he WILL point it out like a toddler grossed out by seeing their parents kiss.
- I think after Queenie abstracts it really changes. I want to assume that is when Kinger finally fully lost every marble he was hanging onto and Kaufmo.. well he realized how much he really missed those two together.
- Post Queenie, I think their relationship evolves from annoyance to much more understanding, not knowing eachother too personally as one would hope, given their circumstances but they would still go out of their way for a quick “are you okay?”
—————
Peepo:
- Peepo is a super sweet guy, and I’d say he was a good acquaintance of Kingers just for the fact there wasn’t too many guys and they were both very friendly.
- Peepo was the first to arrive of this old group, so he was much like in Kingers place with the current crew. However he’s not crazy because this is likely to beginning of when people started to get trapped in the game still, and not too much time had even passed. Aka, more people were entering than abstracting most definitely.
- Anyway, to touch up on the above one, because of this he has a sort of natural leadership over everyone, people seem to seek him out on information about the world just because he’s been there the longest. This includes Kinger! To Peepo, if he needed a right hand man he actually really relied on Kinger.
- There’s a small place by the digital lake that no one knows about except Peepo. When the sun starts to set he almost always likes to just.. go outside the tent and walk to it, and the only person he ended up showing was Kinger. It became sort of a spot for just them to talk, which is likely what made them closer. Kinger later would use this exact spot to ask Queenie out…Jumping to canon, the only person who knows of the spot now is Kinger, and he often goes there to seclude himself.
—————
Moppsy:
- Even though I put her here, I can’t really come up with anything! I use Moppsy as the first abstraction Kinger would witness, and likely didn’t really know her or have a relationship with her. Putting her here to include this though!
—————
Pomni:
- Woo!! Og cast now!! I think Pomni and Kinger will get along well given time. While Kinger is certainly.. eclectic in his personality at this point in his stay in the circus, I think Pomni would be comfortable talking to him about things more than Jax or Zooble, who knows! Just based on what I know from the pilot.
- Kinger used to invite anyone and everyone into the pillow forts he made, but once majority of the old cast abstracted I’d assume he stopped completely, instead using it as his own safe haven. However, Pomni is the first one that he very awkwardly asks if she would like to come inside, which leads to him feeling more inclined and comfortable to invite the others.
- Kinger notices and thinks Pomni is very different than the others, anyone he’s known so far infact and he probably outright tells her this because he lacks the ability to really filter his thoughts anymore. She doesn’t quite understand the nonsense he babbles out about it, but in the series if Pomni finds the exit or changes the circus for the better or WHATEVER goes on as she’s the protagonist, I’m just gonna say Kinger had a gut feeling from the start.
- Pomni seems to care the most when Kinger wants to show someone a bug, and that can be left up to the interpretation that the others just got tired of him doing it all the time and Pomnis not used to it yet, or she genuinely just tries to nod along and it makes him very happy to get a response.
—————
Ragatha:
- I think during the whole old cast abstracting and being replaced, if we look at the lineup of how everyone entered, I think Ragatha was the only one to actually know Queenie. Atleast see in person for a while, perhaps.
- I think those two would have gotten along SOOO well but!! This is about Kinger,, and I think Kinger and Ragatha also get along very well. She reminds him of Slinky…
- They both know they don’t talk or vent about their own problems at all, atleast anymore for Kinger. They are both bad at keeping it bottled up inside and while they both understand this about eachother, they don’t pry.
- If anything they have tea together often, and only they know alot about tea and really really enjoy it so it’s like their own bonding thing in a way.
- Ragatha came out to him first as a lesbian for some interesting strange reason, though if we follow my beloved trans Queenie hc I like to apply to things sometimes then she likely did it because she knows Kinger isn’t judgmental on lgbt topics.
—————
Zooble:
- I enjoy thinking of Zooble as an angsty teenage child compared to Kingers senile old dad energy
- I think in Kingers eyes they seem to get along a little bit but he’s just a tad intimidated. In Zoobles eyes they wouldn’t let anyone know how much they really like Kinger, afterall he’s nothing but sweet when being spoken with. It’s a nice break from.. Jax or Caine, even the others who are very emotional. Yes they can be kind too, but it’s like you don’t have to try with Kinger because he’s so finicky that he doesn’t remember every detail of your interaction to judge you on it anymore.
- I like to think whenever Kinger needs help with something Zooble lets out a dramatic sigh and goes to help him (no one asked them to and anyone else could’ve volunteered but okay Zoob we know you just genuinely like his company)
- Zooble gave him a weighted blanket as a gift to include in his pillow forts once and he had a panic attack while under it once because he couldn’t move (he loves it so so much I promise)
- Again hhh Dad Daughter vibe I really enjoy it I think Queenie would’ve adored Zooble like a mother too plsplsplsolsolsols
—————
Jax:
- Jax would call Kinger a boomer a lot and it stresses Kinger out so much because he doesn’t know what it means and when he asked Zooble to explain it to him they convinced him it was slur and so Kinger got Caine to censor the word boomer
- Kinger is like genuinely terrified of Jax and how much of a menace he is, he’s never known anyone that acts like this mf its insane
- Kinger does infact has some pet bugs in a large terrarium in his room and because Jax has keys to everyone’s rooms he with steal Kingers bugs (an example, the centipede he put in Ragathas room? Probably Kingers..)
- Kinger honestly tries his best to avoid Jax hhshs
—————
Gangle:
- Kinger is probably the closest to Gangle of everyone in the current cast.
- Gangle likes to draw and write and ramble and everything to Kinger, even when she has her tragedy mask on, he seems to cheer her up a little just by hanging out near her. Kinger really enjoys it.
- When Gangle does have her happy mask on, it irks something inside Kinger. She really reminds him of Wriggle. And he was much closer to Wriggle than Slinky so.. it bothers him a bit unlike Ragatha being similar to Slinky in few ways.
- She introduced him to anime and while she has a giant ass list of ones she enjoys he’s.. just quite fixated on ghibli movies… he finds them neat.
- They are.. autism buddies.. More so it’s well aware with everyone that Kinger is diagnosed with Autism but Gangle isn’t diagnosed, and Kinger is the only one staring HARD like “hhh ik what you are” fr fr anyway because I hc them both as autistic that’s another reason they tend to group together and get along more.
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agendabymooner · 10 months
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colour me your colour || toto w. x ofc (3)
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Summary: Tilly Marie nearly loses faith in her passion as she refuses to listen to everyone who told her to quit. Everyone but one. And it’s the man she met years ago at a racing event she didn’t want to attend. Who would have thought that her father’s partial ownership of three brands could take her to the zone of Mercedes and meet the love of her life?
Chapter Summary: Tilly finds herself flirting with Toto on the job. Unfortunately, so did Daniel and Lewis. The two drivers decided to put this information to use by making fun of their own bosses. Everyone's suddenly catching on to the dynamic of the two.
Content warning: Age gap, brief use of explicit language, discusses the 2014 austrian gp, flirtatious banter, mutual pining kind of romance, platonic relationship with Lewis Hamilton and Daniel Ricciardo, fictional family and business involved (Hearth family and Hearth Automotives Group). NO PERSONAL RELATIONSHIPS INVOLVED SORRY
Note: Thank you all so much for the 30 followers! I hope my insanity entertained you (affectionate) and I'll try my best to continue on with it. This is the shortest one, I think. Let me know what you think! Enjoy xx
masterlist
iii. juliet's hit list
I will make a hit list, and Christian Horner will be at the top of it. 
While he’s an amazing and competent team principal, the absolute fool decided to deter that statement when he pulled Daniel out of the last-minute interview. He tried to explain what happened, he really did, but it would have been nicer if he paused for a second instead of pulling the Australian from the scene while his mouth was saying fuck all. Now, the Red Bull seat’s empty; the only thing that’s being filled is my temper. 
Sebastian Vettel’s time for media is already over, and as much as I would like to pull him back once more, it is better to leave him resting. Or rather, it’s best to leave him on his free practice. It turns out engines can fuck up your game one way or another. Christian Horner’s outburst post-Austrian race showed it, and it’s not anything that I can blame on the team principal.
Still, Daniel is absent right now, so I want to strangle Horner with my two hands. 
Horner must have superb hearing because when the string of curse words began to slip out of my mouth, he returned with Daniel jogging behind him.
Horner acts before I can open my mouth by shooing Daniel off to his seat in front of the waiting cameras with Lewis, Kimi, Jenson and Fernando. 
Feeling slightly relieved, I turn around to express my irritation toward Christian, zeroing in on him like he’s a culprit. He looks guilty for a second and tells me, “Minor problem with his car.”
“Is it something to be solved with his… I dunno, the engineers? Before you know… you approach him before his interview?” I point out, watching as he sighs exasperatedly. Surprisingly, he does not say anything besides a mutter of apology as he walks away. I call him quietly and say, “Team principals interview in an hour, Christian.”
He waves it off and continues to walk away. If this man is the same man my father works with, I understand why he gave me this job. He’s a headache.
From what I know, I’m not the only one to suffer from him. I did not think of it until I felt a towering figure next to me. He completely diverts my attention from my newfound migraine by standing beside me. My eyes which were once glaring at Christian, softened at the sight of Toto Wolff. 
“Mr. Wolff–” my mouth shuts at the frown that quickly appears on his face as I correct myself, “Toto.”
“Tilly, it is great to see you here,” he greets me.
We can’t speak aloud as the drivers are already answering questions. But the exchanges of smiles and the question, “How are you handling the practice day?” has taken our attention away from our drivers, our conversation turning into a series of questions about… things in general. 
I can’t remember each question, but with each answer he provides, my brain takes them in.
“You’ve mentioned you live in the country,” he says as I nod in confirmation. He asks, “How far of a trip did you make just to get here?”
I’m unsure if my answer will put me on a list of “fucking idiots who does not know how to control their mouths,” but I hear myself say, “Don’t tell me you want to get on my bed that quickly.” 
The slap of my hand catches the attention of the people near us–it’s either that or the gasp that did it. Either way, I cannot believe I’m this stupid to embarrass myself in front of… Toto?
I certainly did not embarrass myself, I tell myself while I watch Toto’s face turn red and chuckle. He laughs at it like it’s funny. Like he hadn’t expected me to say such things because of how flustered I was during my last encounter with him. 
But it isn’t just his face that caught my attention. The softness of his laugh almost had me kneeling in front of god. The last time I saw him at that 24-hour race in Dubai reminded me so much of how he is now, except more mature. He aged. But I’ll be damned if I don’t admit that he aged like wine. 
But as I’m thinking of Dubai, I suddenly ask myself: Did he remember me, too? 
As always, his voice diverts my attention from my doubts and insanity back to reality. I look up to see the redness of his face fading, his smile expressing nothing but amusement as he says, “I’m more of an old-fashioned kind, Tilly.”
“Is that right?” I find myself saying. Oh great, more ways to embarrass yourself. 
“I suppose,” he teases, “I like to woo the lady first. I don’t mind how long it’ll take me to get there, but waiting would be worth it.”
Our banter (do I even call it that?) is interrupted by the realization that we’re still in the media pit and that the drivers are already thanking the journalists and photographers after their interviews.
I cannot say any more because Daniel’s already on his way to approach me with a call, “Lady Boss!”
I turn to face him, his cheeky grin infectious as he asks, “How did you like my Aussie charm?”
Shit. I didn’t even watch him fully. I was busy drooling over–
What kind of lie would I make up? Wait, no–
“I didn’t know Aussies are charming, Daniel,” I jest, laughing while I berate myself for sounding a little nervous. “Brits are lovelier, you know?”
“Austrians do it best, right, boss?” I can hear Lewis teasing his team principal. I turn around, watching as Lewis snickers at his boss’ silence. Lewis wags his brows at me before he approaches and wraps his arm around me for a quick, tight embrace. He pulls away eventually, “He’d tell you more, but we’ve the practice to do.”
“Yeah, go, stop stealing my Lady Boss from me, Hamilton,” Daniel jokes, pulling me away from my thoughts as I shake my head. I pass it off as an expression of disagreement.
“Yeah, uh huh,” Lewis nods as if letting this banter pass before he looks at Toto. The man still stares at me, and I’m not even scared. Intrigued, in fact. I’m on my way to becoming a shareholder of his rival team, but I’m here ogling at him like it’s a modern Romeo and Juliet.
Ugh.
“Third free practice, Tils,” Daniel nudges me as I nod, finally turning away from the older man as I bid my farewell to the driver and team principal of the other team one more time. 
I tell Lewis, “I’ll see you at dinner tonight?”
Toto, catching the question that escapes my mouth, turns to look at Lewis with a surprised look. Oh no, I don’t mean like that.
Lewis, however, cheekily grins and says, “If you’re done giving my team principal the heart eyes, then sure–”
“Alright, we’re heading out,” I hear Lewis burst out in laughter as I drag Daniel out of the media room, thanking and nodding at each media staff member we pass. 
Daniel seems interested in what he’s heard but chooses not to say anything until we return to the Red Bull zone. He turns to me with a smirk and says, “You know, Tils, with the amount of berating that Horner’s taken from you, we would have assumed you’d be married or something like that.”
I glare at him, only for him to say, “But Seb and I were wrong– and I’m hardly wrong at these things. Maybe you really do hate Horner because of Wolff.”
I roll my eyes at this as he continues to joke, “Horner’s a good team principal–”
I immediately interrupted him, “But nobody can be equally competent and attractive as Wolff. So, I suggest you keep it shut before Christian gives me shit for fraternizing with his enemy. I’ve barely fraternized, but his mouth would say otherwise.”
He mimics a zipper over his mouth as he promises to keep it silent (he won't talk but media outlets certainly would). But knowing him for almost a month or so of being at the headquarters, he won’t leave my obvious schoolgirl crush down. He and Lewis already found a weapon to use while I sit with them during dinner. 
And if they continue on with it, I’ll make sure that they’re written in the hit list as second and third.
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im-not-a-l0ser · 5 months
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Hey, so do yall remember that fic idea I talked about a lil bit ago, about Max being in love with Richie pre-transition, and then falling in love with him post transition without him even knowing? Yeah, so I wrote a prologue
Sorry if you don't wanna be tagged, I'm just tagging those who seemed most interested: @boykisserbunny @petes-5yr-cocoa @chaosbrinker @inprisonforsparkling
I didn't decide on a deadname for him, so I hope the way I wrote it is okay.
TW- Bullying, icky behaviour, ghosting(?)
It all started with her.
She's the reason Max ever got violent in the first place.
"Stupid fuckin nerd!" Max once heard. He didn't think much of it. People got bullied every day.
"That's kind of a-an oxymoron, don't you think?" He heard a meek voice say.
Fuck. If some motherfucker was messing with her, Max was gonna break some bones.
"Who're you callin a moron!"
"No, that's not— Eep!" A familiar squeak echoed through the halls before the sound of a fist splatting against the concrete wall rang out.
Max turned the corner.
She was pressed against the wall, although it mostly seemed to be hwr doing at this point, she'd definately been bracketed there before. Despite hearing only one voice, there were three guys. One of them was clutching his hand.
"That's it, you fuckin smartass—"
"Hey!" Max yelled. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"We're just teaching this nerd a lesson," One of the guys said. "She shouldn't be such a nerdy prude," He said, running his hand down her arm for a second before she shoved it off.
"Fuck off," She grumbled. She was behaving like this wasn't unfamiliar for her.
"Yeah," Max said. "Fuck off." The third guy laughed.
"Or what?" He asked. "Dunno if you noticed, but it's one on three."
She threw her hands up slightly, annoyed.
Technically, she's the one who initiated it.
She swung her backpack as hard as she could into his groin, immediately sending him groaning on the ground.
She smiled for a second before the second guy went for her. She squeaked again before crouching down.
Nothing to worry about though. He was quickly knocked away by Max, as well as the first guy, just in case he wanted to try something again.
"Nice one by the way," Max said as she stood back up. She dusted herself off and swung her bag over her shoulder.
"Thanks for the help," She said.
She always did that. She never thanked him for saving her, never acted helpless. She wasn't helpless. She just wasn't enough on her own. Max completed that.
After that, Max left her side even less. Apparently it wasn't the first time it'd happened. In fact, it seemed like that'd been a reoccurring thing for weeks now. Not anymore, if Max had anything to do with it. Which he would.
Despite not dating, not wanting people to think they're dating, and constantly fighting the accusations that they're dating, Max would swing his arm around her shoulders now to make sure that other guys knew she was spoken for.
Not that she was. He just hoped it was enough to protect her if he wasn't around.
He gave her official and explicit permission to claim they were dating if she so needed to, like if she was being pursued by someone she didn't like and they wouldn't take no for an answer.
Unfortunately, for some people that just got their motor running more.
In those situations, Max advised that she fought them off as well as she could, and called him as soon as she thought they'd be too much for her alone. He'd drop anything to be there for her.
Max didn't see her the entire last week of eighth grade. He was getting worried. He'd ask around, but people would tease him, saying he should know, since they were dating, and that she finally decided to off herself.
That second one hit too close to home.
He went to her house a week into summer, after many text messages and a warning that he was going to do so.
A man answered the door. He kind of looked like her, in a vague way, but Max knew this wasn't her dad.
"I'm here to see..."
"Uh," The guy started, looking confused. "I don't know anyone with that name. Sorry."
"You... what?" Max asked, his brain breaking. He was already so close to the edge.
Two weeks with no contact at all. It was starting to scare him more than he was okay with.
"I've never heard that name before. Sorry," He said. "That's my last name, Matthews. But that's all I got."
"No, sh-she lives here. She's always lived here!" Max tried to lunge forward into the house, but the man blocked him.
"I think you should leave now, young man," He said.
Max yelled her name until his voice hurt, and the man managed to push him away long enough to shut and lock the door.
He banged on it for a while before giving up.
He sat on the porch for a while before working up the energy and motivation to leave.
What happened to her... it was like she disappeared off the face of the earth and no one even cared or noticed.
That had to have been her uncle or big brother or something, they had the same last name! How was this fair, where had she gone!
She was Max’s only real friend. His only true friend. Sure, the football team and the basketball team, but she knew more about his life and feelings than they ever would.
Not to mention, he only hung out with them out of necessity, especially the ones that had tried to hurt her.
Without her, what was even the point of trying to be decent.
In all honesty, Max liked the fear he generated. He liked that he could look at someone the right way and make them flinch. He liked knowing he could protect her.
He needed to show her that. He did his best, while still showing he could take care of her.
Okay, sure. Maybe the accusations and the lies were right, Max was in love with her.
A lot of good that did him now.
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stvharrngton · 1 year
Note
Can I request this prompt
“oh don’t mind me I’m just enjoying the view”
anon i am /so/ sorry it took me this long to post this i’ve just been so busy 😭 but here it is i hope you like it! <3
pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader
word count: 1.5k
warnings: smut, 18+ minors dni, thigh riding, cursing, dirty talk a little
prompt: 131. “oh don’t mind me I’m just enjoying the view” from this list (x)
The hot summer Indiana air was thick and unforgiving. Humidity high and days filled with trips to the local pool and too many cherry slushies. You’d spent a lot of days with the kids this summer. You and Steve ferrying them around from place to place; the mall to the arcade, the pool then to go get ice cream after.
You were grateful that they spared you this day, just you and Steve, alone. The privacy of his own pool in his own backyard.
You sat on the edge, legs dangling in the cool water. Resting back on your palms, you let the hot sun kiss your skin all over. Eyes closed as you felt yourself at peace.
Squinting at the bright sun, you opened one eye to peak over at your boyfriend who was laid out on one of the loungers. Steve was summer, the smell of sun cream and ice cold lemonade on a warm day. Beach days and road trips where the wind flew through your hair.
The boy was shirtless, smattering of hair over his chest, a soft sheen of sweat covering his skin. His swim shorts pulled up tight to the tops of his thighs. His hair wild from where he’d tugged at it to keep it out of his face, signature black Ray Bans perched on the bridge of his nose, a soft smile painted on his lips.
Steve was pretty, so pretty.
Pulling his sunglasses down a touch so he could peer at you over the rims, he spoke, “What you staring at?” tone teasing.
“Oh, don’t mind me. I’m just enjoying the view.”
Steve chuckled, a light laugh from his chest, “I could say the same.” He said.
It was true, Steve had been staring at you all day. Eyes glued to your wet figure from beneath his sunglasses as you dipped in and out of the pool when you got a little too warm. Bright red bikini clinging to your skin, one that rivaled Phoebe Cates’ in Fast Times.
“C’mere,” he muttered, arms outstretched towards you as he made grabby hands at you. Giggling at him you leapt up out the pool and sauntered over to him.
Steve watched you with a shit-eating grin plastered all over his face, he watched as your hips swayed side to side, your bikini top holding onto your tits for dear life. His strong palm patted his lap loudly and you obliged.
You braced yourself on Steve’s shoulders as you lifted your leg over his hip, straddling his lap. Steve let his hands rest on your waist, fingers squeezing into the skin gently, a dopey love-sick smile tugging at his lips.
“Have I ever told you how hot you are?” Steve asked.
“I dunno, Steve. Not recently?” you smirked, rolling your eyes at the boy. Your head tilting to the side slightly.
“Oh,” he frowned, “let me make it up to you?” his voice was low and teasing, his fingers messing with the strings of your bikini. Tongue darting out to wet his lips.
“Sure, Stevie,” you nodded, letting his hand roam up to your neck to bring you down to him.
Steve pressed his lips to yours so softly, a barely there brush of your lips. Your eyes fluttered closed at the gesture, leaning into him, chasing his kiss, wanting more.
He gave you that, more, tongue licking along your bottom lip before swirling with your own. It was a little messy, a little dirty. Steve left you breathless, hands pulling at your hips to bring you closer to him, tongue licking into you all needy.
You whined, pulling away from Steve for a beat, chest heaving as you caught your breath. The taste of his sweet ice tea and the tangy chlorine lingered on your lips. Steve’s mouth chased your skin like something frantic, eager to be all over you, to press sweet wet kisses all over the exposed skin not covered by your bikini.
You keened under his touch, your skin electric from his kisses. Focusing on that little spot behind your ear that drove you nuts, your fingernails dug into his shoulders leaving delicate crescent shapes in their wake. A quiet whimper escaped your lips, your hips rolling involuntarily.
Steve let his jaw slacken, mouth parted still against your skin, “So gorgeous,” he breathed, his warm palms roaming your skin freely, “my pretty baby.”
You suddenly remembered where you were, in Steve’s backyard with his neighbours either side of the tall fence, hips rolling over Steve’s growing bulge in a dirty grind. His face was buried in your neck, hot breath fanning over your sticky skin, fingers digging into your doughy hips, a gentle push and pull over him.
It was so easy to go from zero to one hundred with Steve. So easy when he kissed you like he couldn’t get enough, touched you like you were the most precious gem on earth. So when you felt the familiar tingle in your stomach, the arousal pooling in your bikini bottoms you weren’t at all surprised.
Your fingers came to push the hair away from his eyes, digits carding through his locks. His lips moved from your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses down your collarbones and chest, teeth pinching at the skin of your breasts not covered by the red material.
“Steve,” you whined needy, a desperate rasp of your voice. Warmth rolled throughout your body, your hips still moving, searching for something, anything.
“Here,” he hushed, moving his one leg out from underneath you so you were straddling his thigh. Hands petting at your still damp hair, “that’s it baby.” He cooed, watching as you dragged your still clothed pussy along his muscular thigh.
You moaned pretty above him, a little high pitched swoon you prayed the neighbours wouldn’t hear. Steve’s eyes were hazy below his sunglasses, gaze heavy on how your chest heaved and how your hips swirled over his thigh.
“Fuck,” the boy groaned, one hand clinging onto your waist, fingertip shaped bruises pressing into your soft skin. The other came to pull at your bikini top, pulling the material down so he could mouth at your tits, his mouth circling one of your nipples as he left the other covered.
Your cheeks grew a little redder, a shade deeper than the sprinkling on sunburn that decorated your face, bottom lip between your teeth in frustration. You huffed and groaned into Steve’s shoulder, slumping in defeat almost.
“Hey,” he cooed, “what’s the matter, huh?”
But Steve knew. Steve always knew. The boy knew the restrictiveness of your thin bikini bottoms wasn’t making this as good as it could be, you needed skin on skin. Craved it almost. And Steve could never deny you that.
“Oh, baby,” he teased, fingers toying with the strings of your bottoms. Steve bucked his thigh a little so he could pull the material to the side, letting your bare pussy sit pretty on his thigh, “that what you wanted, hm? Such a good girl.”
You could only whine at his praise, an eager nod in response to his question. You began to move your hips again, the hair on the meat of Steve’s thigh hitting all the right places. He trailed a finger down your stomach, over your pussy before he pressed his thumb into your clit.
“Christ, you’re so wet, sweetheart.” Steve mumbled, thumb rubbing lazily over the bundle of nerves now, “That feel good? Getting yourself off on my thigh?”
Breathy moans tumbling past your lips, lips pursed together to try and keep yourself quiet. Hips rutting against Steve in a dirty grind, his eyes glued to way your slick coated his thigh.
“Yeah,” you whimpered, “feels so good, Stevie.”
“Pretty girl making a mess of my thigh, yeah? Such a dirty little thing,” he teased, voice low and taunting. His hands gripped your hips now, urging you to rock back and forth, your cunt fluttering around him deliciously.
“Oh, fu-uck, Steve,” you cried, your coil twisting and pulling in all the right places. Limbs burning hot with pleasure, your orgasm creeping up on you thick and fast.
Steve felt the way you clenched on him, how your fingers were digging into his shoulders painfully, he knew you were close.
“You gonna cum, sweet girl?” He asked, lips kissing up your neck, tongue darting out to lick the shell of your ear, “Come on, want you to cum for me. Wanna hear it.”
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, nodding as incoherent moans and babbles tumbled past your lips. Steve tensed his thigh at just the right time, the muscle hitting at your clit perfectly as the coil snapped. Warmth spread throughout your body, a white hot sting of relief washed over you.
Your chest heaving, breath heavy as you whined Steve’s name over and over, again and again.
“Good girl, that’s it,” he praised, “you’re so pretty, so fucking good.” Steve cooed, fingers petting at your hair, lips pressing butterfly kisses sweetly all over your face as you rode out your high.
He let his lips linger on your cheek, the tip of his nose pressing into your sensitive skin. Hands rubbing up and down your waist soothingly.
“You think the neighbours enjoyed the show?”
“Steve!” you cried, swatting at the boy’s chest.
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