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#seriously why isn't she real?
hummingintheback · 22 days
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Look at this face🧎‍♀️Mother is serving Cuntress!
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And those eyes and jaw? Careful, it can puncture the hull of an empire class fire nation battleship leaving thousands to drown at sea. Because it's so sharp!
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Ughh, ever wonder if Tenzin or any of Lin's ex lovers miss kissing her lips? LOOK AT THAT CHERRY LIPS
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This woman on my nots is now trying to claim something else than what she actually said.
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can we also be nice to the arms dealer hes an obscenely on the nose racist stereotype in a carrying the black rep body (the other two are barely anything, & weirdly stereotypical @ zoologist)
also maybe actually drawing him w textured hair too
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ambrosiagourmet · 3 months
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I want to talk about why I think this is the one of the most important Falin panels:
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So, Falin is really nice, right? It's one of the first things we really learn about her. She's kind even to the monsters of the dungeon - choosing to ward the party rather than fight spirits and cause them needless harm.
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In the above early flashback in chapter 11, we see Marcille fawning over Falin's kindness, calling her an angel. Namari calls her soft-hearted. We see Falin choose not to fight even when a zombie attacks - instead she resolves the confrontation with a hug. After the flashback, the first thing Senshi says is that Falin "sounds like quite the person," which Marcille strongly affirms.
At this point in the story, all we have seen of Falin are these impressions; she is a healer, an angel, a caretaker with an infinite well of kindness towards everyone she meets - both friend and foe.
And honestly, that remains most of what we have to go by to understand her. The only times we get to see Falin on the page, alive and just herself, are in the opening and closing pages of the story and in the brief period of time after she is resurrected.
Nonetheless, we do have some more details to work with. For one, there is the scene that The Panel is from - a short memory in chapter 75, when Marcille flashes back to while she's dying. In that scene, Falin prepares to teleport them all out, and says that she's sorry "if there is a person at [their] destination." And that's when we get The Panel.
If you teleport someone or something into another person, the person teleported into is likely to be, at minimum, severely injured. They could die.
We can see a lovely little horrifying example of exactly why in one of the Daydream Hour doodles:
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So, hmm. That's not... that's not SUPER nice. Certainly not displaying the same "kindness to all, friend and foe included" we saw represented earlier. On a basic level, this adds some nuance to Falin's kindness. We see it break a little, when pushed to the limit. We see her chose to protect the people she loves above all else.
Which makes sense! As Laios says when the Winged Lion accuses him of similarly being motivated more by his friends' safety than everyone else in the dungeon, "...most people, aside from virtuous do-gooders, would feel the same way."
So, we can take The Panel as simply showing a moment of weakness for Falin. A time when she was pushed to her limits, and that "most people" selfish side of her shone through.
However... I think there's a little more going on with Falin than just her being an angel 99% of the time, except just that once. I love The Panel because I think it helps us understand that Falin isn't just motivated by kindness - she also has a desire to avoid seeing people in pain.
Isn't that the same thing?
No, no it very much is not.
Let's look at a short comic from the Falin section of the Adventurer's Bible, because I think it illustrates this point perfectly. The group is complaining about how much Marcille's healing hurts, and comparing it to Falin's, which "doesn't hurt a bit." Marcille retorts with the following:
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Now, the punchline of this comic is that, despite Marcille's sentimental assertion that she's "thinking of [them]" by letting her healing magic hurt, they all still prefer to be healed by Falin.
But hey, this wouldn't be the first time that Dungeon Meshi hides a very real character beat or insight in a gag, so let's think about this somewhat seriously.
If Marcille is right (and she knows a fair bit about magic, so we can assume that she has at least somewhat of a point), then what Falin is doing isn't kind. I suppose if someone specifically requested to not feel the pain, it could be kind, but that's not really what happened here. She is the one who felt badly about the others being in pain, and she is the one who decided, without telling them or giving them a choice in the matter, to take away that pain.
Both Marcille and Falin are healing the party, but Marcille is doing it in a way that accomplishes the task in the most straight forward way, without any additional interference. Falin is going out of her way to perform the healing in a way she is more comfortable with. A way that avoids pain.
Going back the The Panel, I don't think its a coincidence that the only time we see Falin (well, non-chimera Falin) willing to do something that could hurt someone is when any potential pain will be far away from her. If she got someone hurt or killed by teleporting the party to the surface? Not only would it be far out of her sight, but she'd be dead before she had to deal with any consequences of that action.
Falin is not a confrontational person. She doesn't push when Marcille won't tell her the truth about the resurrection, and she comforts Laios about her own death - both of those things happening in the only full chapter she is alive and conscious in the whole story.
We also know that she considered accepting Shuro's proposal, despite not having any special feelings towards him, and that Falin never explained to Marcille that she wanted them to share a meal together. When she brought Marcille various foods at the academy, she just accepted Marcille's confused rejection and gave up.
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And lastly, we know that she is still in contact with her parents, despite the neglect and abuse she suffered at their hands. Although the way someone chooses to handle contact with abusive or bad family is a complicated topic, which I don't want to overly simplify, I do I think this fact gets at the heart of how she handles conflict.
So many people that Falin loves have hurt her. There are understandable hurts, like Laios leaving the village, or Marcille not understanding the food. And there are bigger, far less justifiable hurts - like her parents neglecting her throughout her childhood, and sending her away to be alone at the magic academy.
It doesn't seem like Falin has ever confronted any of it directly.
And the unhealthy aspects of this kind of avoidance of pain and confrontation is one of the things that the story of Dungeon Meshi is all about. We see Laios grapple with it before he goes to kill Falin, and we see Marcille acknowledge it at the end of the story, when she tells Laios that she has come to terms with Falin's death:
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Eating is a part of life. Consuming other living things is a part of life. It isn't really possible to avoid that pain - you can only hide from the truth of it. You have to be selfish everyday. You have to eat - to choose to live. To choose to take up space.
And this is something Falin embraces, too. She comes back to life, after all.
We see her choose to come back to life.
And how does she make that choice? She eats. She consumes, and then she is asked a question by the manifestation of hunger itself:
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Do you want to eat more?
There is a double meaning in the Winged Lion's final words on the next page.
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When I first read this, I took it as him saying: life is cruel. You will suffer. You will feel more pain.
But perhaps, especially for Falin, this also means: you are choosing a path where you must cause pain. Where you must consume. Where you must take, and must be selfish. Because eating is the special privilege of the living, and it is their burden, too. In order to stay alive, she will need to keep eating.
And she chooses that. Chooses to be selfish. It's why her resurrection scene is so important, and it's why The Panel is so important. Because Falin coming back isn't the ultimate reward for all of the party's hard work.
It's her choice. Just like it was her choice that started everything in the first place. But this time, she doesn't choose to accept causing pain for the sake of Marcille and Laios. She does it for her own sake.
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rizsu · 8 months
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megumi's a "whatever," boyfriend. not in the sense that he has an attitude, but in the sense of agreement to your actions. you want him to buy you that korean corndog? sure, whatever. you want to match keychains with him? not quite his style, but it's whatever.
megumi's also an "i don't know," boyfriend. he never knows. he lives by the saying that ignorance is bliss, and it constantly leaves him in a state of confusion. he doesn't know how he got to the nail salon, but apparently he's found himself attempting to decide which colour's best.
"megumi, should i get this one or that one for my nails?"
"i don't know. they both look like the same colour," he repsonds, bursting his brain to find the difference.
"it is, honestly, but the shade is different."
"the first one then," he opts for the first choice, still having no idea what the difference is.
one more thing about megumi: he's a "my girl," type of man. believe it or not, he addresses you as "my girl" when you're not around. such behaviour leaves itadori and nobara in shock. the most endearing name of affection they've received from megumi bordered "idiot," or his favourite, "stupid." it's no wonder why they thought he had no capacity to be romantic.
"why are you so down in the slumps?" nobara questions, rounding the corner with itadori who's holding all her bags.
itadori joins in on the questioning, "yeah, you look like you found out spiderman isn't real."
in unison, nobara and megumi sigh heavily. it's only itadori who'd be sad at the fact that superheroes are fictional.
megumi slouches, resting his head on his knees. it bothers the other two that their friend isn't his usual self today.
"seriously, meg, are you okay?" nobara's voice softens to show her genuine concern. it doesn't last long, however. softness doesn't last long when you have the kind of friend who finishes every snack as soon as it's been bought.
"itadori yuuji, put that snack right back where you found it."
"my bad," he apologises, doing as nobara said.
the attention turns back to megumi. his aura radiates sadness — something that neither of the three knows how to deal with. well, it's better to say it than to dwell on it.
"my—" megumi stops himself, sighing at the mere thought, "my girl's mad at me and i don't know why."
"oh," the duo shares a response.
"uh, well, what did you do?" itadori asks, drumming his fingers awkwardly against his thigh.
"i don't know," the sad boy replies.
"do you ever know anything, fushiguro?" nobara pipes in. how are they supposed to help him when he himself has no idea?
megumi sighs heavily again, nobara's words hit him where it hurts the most, "you sound just like her."
"there's no saving him," itadori whispers to nobara.
"you're right. we should call her to deal with this," nobara whispers back, nodding with itadori as she secretly sends you a text.
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starryeyedjanai · 1 month
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Steve and Eddie meet through their local buy-nothing-sell-nothing group when Steve’s getting ready to move in with Robin and he realizes he can't keep everything he owns while trying to merge households with her.
The first time they meet, Steve hadn't even been meaning to actually meet the person picking up the free toaster oven he’s giving away.
He’s setting his toaster oven outside his house on the porch when Eddie hops out of his van to pick it up and it would be rude to duck back inside without saying anything since he obviously sees him coming up, so they make small talk for a minute and Steve has to keep his eyeballs in check because they keep wanting to rake all the way down this guy’s body.
He’s covered in tattoos and so extremely Steve's type, but he knows better than to hit on someone who lives in his neighborhood and is not here for that reason.
He laments to Robin about it the next day, about the hot guy who’s probably using Steve's toaster oven as they speak, who he’ll probably never see again.
Robin rolls her eyes fondly at him and tells him that maybe if he puts more stuff up for grabs on the facebook group, he might see him again, but Steve suspects she just wants him to get rid of more of his stuff so it doesn't overcrowd their new apartment.
The set of items he puts up in the group next is an old blender and a butcher block that has three of the knives missing—seriously where did those knives go? He has yet to find them.
He tries to pretend he isn't secretly hoping Eddie will comment under his post that he wants the items, but he isn't fooling himself when his heart literally skips a beat when the first comment is from Eddie. He messages him and tells him to stop by later that day.
When Eddie shows up, they talk for longer than last time, Eddie asking why Steve needs to get rid of so much stuff and Steve asking why Eddie needs all this stuff—especially considering Steve snooped through the group and saw that Eddie joined over a year ago and hadn't once commented before now (he doesn't mention that thought, but he is thinking it real hard).
Eddie laughs and says he was in the market for a toaster oven when Steve posted one and wouldn't you know it? He also needs a blender—the knife set is just a bonus, he says.
Steve tries not to read too much into it, but his brain is spinning the interaction around in his head for the next week.
He puts up a space heater in the group and within minutes, Eddie has claimed it.
“I should just get your number and text you directly when I find something I want to get rid of next time,” Steve says flippantly when Eddie comes by to grab it that night. “Instead of clogging up the facebook group.”
Eddie smirks at him and steps a little closer. He says, “Maybe you should.”
His neighbor’s car alarm decides to go off right at that moment, ruining the flirty atmosphere with its incessant shrill. They can barely hear each other over the drone of it, so Eddie leaves without giving Steve his number and Steve is left feeling like he keeps having these missed connection moments with Eddie.
In a fit of desperation to see Eddie again, Steve puts up a bunch of random stuff in the group the next day—a shoe rack that’s missing a piece, a step stool, a cheap side table he got from Ikea—and Eddie is still the first person to comment like he’s been refreshing the page, just waiting for Steve to post.
“I left without giving you my number last time and I didn't want to be creepy and message you unprompted,” Eddie says as they load the side table into his van. “I think I was overthinking things and then got kind of spooked.”
“It doesn't look like anything could spook you,” Steve says.
When they get the side table inside the back of the van, Eddie turns to him and admits, “A very pretty boy could.”
Steve can feel his face getting hot. “You think I’m pretty?” he asks.
Eddie nods. “Why do you think I keep coming here? There's no way a person who’s lived here for as long as I have would need all this stuff.”
“Did you need any of it?” Steve asks in a teasing voice. “Or were you just so blown away by how cute my profile picture is that you just had to meet me?”
“Oh, I needed the toaster oven, but everything after that was just to see you again,” Eddie says before biting his lip.
There’s an entire swarm of butterflies in his stomach when Eddie's hand brushes his, when Steve takes Eddie's hand in his and leads him inside his box-filled house.
Later, when they’re making out on Steve's couch—when Steve really should still be packing since he has to move in less than a week—he pulls back to ask, “Wait, so are you gonna put the rest of the stuff you don't need back up for grabs in the group? I feel like that would start so much neighborhood gossip.”
Eddie grins wide and Steve wants to kiss him again, wants to feel his smile against his mouth.
“Oh, we’ll be the talk of the town, baby,” Eddie says, pulling him back in.
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lakesparkles · 5 months
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(I almost forgot to post it here)
MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYBODY!! (It's still some hours away to me)
Are you guys feeling it this year? Because I'm not AT ALL. But still, I tried drawing some stuff even that I'm not feeling very motivated lately - reason I had not posted here for a while. If the colors and everything look a bit weird it's because I'm still drawing on my brother's computer because mine isn't working yet...
Alright, some information about the drawings:
- I started reading the Scott Pilgrim comics and Scollace is so real!!! Now I get why people ship them omg
- This one hehe... Don't be mad that I didn't add Julie even if most people wanted to,, I got lazy, I'm so sorry (this makes more sense on Instagram because I made a poll about this)
- At least she's here, right?? Pls don't take this one too seriously
- Some Adventure Time stuff! My mother and I planned to do a AT Christmas tree that would look like this, but we didn't so I drew it instead
- I like Mr Peanutbutter and I like reindeer. I miss drawing my fav yellow dog
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rainyvandragon · 3 months
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Oh those precious memories~
See I could tell myself that it's okay that I'm writing this because I am a catholic woman but let's be real those things just aren't true any more. So instead I am going to claim this as an emotional craving because of that time of the month. Definitely nothing along the lines of 10 year revival of my fanfiction writing phase. And it's totally, in no way related to any issues I might have. Totally sane, I tell you.
! 18+ Minors do not interact, I am NOT a fckn daycare!
Yandere! Hazbin Hotel x GN! Reader
Content warning: obsessive behaviour, stalking, slight NSFW (more in some parts then others), just a bunch of red flags and things that I do not condone irl
Charlie:
Honestly Charlie might be the most sane of the bunch in this regard
She isn't to interested in stealing anything from you, that is just not something she would be comfortable with – in general but especially with her Darling
However she doesn't mind keeping things that you let her borrow
It doesn't even matter what
You gave her a hair tie because one of hers broke? She'll cherish it forever
It was raining on a day she had to go out and you suggested she could use your umbrella? Pretty much hers now
Of course the greatest thing for her would be you lending her some of your clothes
She would most likely spend the next nights cuddling up to it in bed
Oh the frustration when the fabric no longer smells like you but rather her!
Yeah sure, she can give you your things back. She just forgot them in her room, oops! Don't worry she'll get them later
Unless she forgets again...
Vaggie:
She would never take anything you truly need or value
In all seriousness, Vaggie could never stand the idea of inconveniencing her Darling
However unlike Charlie she is just not close enough with you (yet) to count on you giving things to her
So instead she uses the position she has in the Hotel
There was a movie night with everybody invited?
Well somehow ever since the clean up the blanket you were cuddled up in is gone. Oh well, Vaggie will just get a new one, they weren't that expensive to begin with anyway (and if she is fast enough with it nobody is even going to notice anything)
Sadly those lucky occasions that allow her to grab some reminders of your shared time don't come around to often
And Vaggie respects you and herself to much to steal from you or go through your garbage bin
Thankfully she has the patience to wait for those windows of opportunity
And hey, since everything went relatively smoothly this week why not suggest another movie night to Charlie? Everyone involved seemed to enjoy it anyway – so there really is no harm done, right?
Angel:
Anybody who immediately thought of Angel stealing his Darling's underwear needs to take a cold shower!
Now don't get me wrong – he has thought about it
He does have a relatively high drive and desire for intimacy and sex
So sure the idea of taking something rather personal from you did cross his mind
But deep down Anthony just is a little sweetheart and he just couldn't take something like your underwear or other intimate items from you without any sort of consent
As for other, less private things
It doesn't matter if Angel and you have the same of different sizes – he WILL steal your clothes and wear them
If you wear make-up or nail polish he will definitely “borrow” things – especially lipstick
Now if his Darling is somebody who likes to keep a lot of pillows or plushies in bed he is definitely not shy about taking things from that pile either. Although, depending on how well Darling keeps track of those things, he might only borrow them for a night or two – maybe rotating between some, making sure to leave them under the bed upon returning so it looks like it just fell off the mattress
Alastor:
Now Alastor is already rather torn apart when he first noticed his desire for your belongings
He never once though about stealing from you...until you forgot something in the lobby – a book, notebook, pen, whatever it was – it was just lying there on the table next to the couches
Ever the gentleman he obviously wanted to return it to you but something inside of him fought against the very idea of it. This might be the closet he gets to having you (at least for now), his Darling
As his obsession towards you continues to grow some of his past life's interests stir awake inside of him
One day whilst helping out you cut yourself on some damaged bit of furniture. Alastor is immediately there to offer you a handkerchief to stop the bleeding – a handkerchief that quickly becomes one of his most prised possessions
If his Darling has a period he might steal some...used goods
However in comparison to some of the others, he is a lot less hungry for souvenirs
Although that is really just because, unlike them, he can use his shadows to be around you whenever and as close as he pleases
Husk:
Husk would never just go into his Darling's room to steal things from them – even if the idea sounds lovely
No instead he just checks for things you leave behind
Now his job at the hotel really helps him with that
You almost exclusively talk at the bar (“Redemption Based Group Exercises” being the only real exception)
At this point he has a rather large collection of napkins that you used or doodled on
Sometimes they disgust him but then he looks at them, the little doodles (even just to test a pen) you left on some of them, all those marks of you (bonus points for lipstick stained napkins) and he just can't
The guilty feelings are even worse with a tissue you once cried it. It's just to close of a reminder of you to throw away!
Anything small that you forget at or close to the bar gets saved by him – pens, small pieces of paper, hair ties, buttons from your clothes, whatever really. If it's small and unimportant enough for you to not really miss it he is going to keep it
Nifty:
Nifty is easily the worst of them all
She is small, fast, obsession driven and the hotel's maid on top of that
What matters most to her is how close to your body her little mementos are (it's pretty much the same way in wish the catholic church determines the value of a saint's relic)
Nifty will most definitely collect hair out of your brush
Or rummage through your garbage bins
Now if somebody is going to steal used period products!
She just really doesn't value her Darling's privacy in the slightest so she has no issues going through every little crevice of your room to look for some “hidden treasures”
Although her favourite thing to do is sleep in your used bedsheets
She is going to wash them – don't worry! Simply just not without first sleeping in them herself for a bit
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Welp this is the first time in a long while that I've actually written fanfiction so I got those emotions to sort through I guess.
English is not my first language however given how arrogant I can be regarding my skills this should be well enough written. Prove reading was done by Open Office's spell checking system and my high ass.
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luveline · 5 months
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your bombshell!reader x spencer is feeding me so well, i'm obsessed!! SJSJS since we've seen reader jealous, is it possible to have a fic where it's spencer that's jealous?
thank u!! fem!reader
Your outfit today is simple. Pencil skirt, dark stockings, hair pristine. The thing that catches Spencer's attention, holds it between two squeezing palms, is the shirt and blazer ensemble you've styled. It's cut to fit, sleek and dark and hard to look away from. 
You brush past the back of Hotch's chair with a sigh, clearly unaware of the attention you're garnering from across the way. “What's wrong with him?” you ask. 
“The same thing as usual,” Hotch says. 
“It's not like we've ever instantly solved a case. Gideon knows this takes time.”
Elle pokes her tongue into her cheek, eyes flared wide. She says a lot without saying anything, flicking through the police files in front of her dispassionately.
“How come you stayed?”
It takes Spencer a moment to realise you're talking to him. “What?” 
“You didn't go with Gideon?” You hold your chin in your hand. “Not getting along anymore?” 
Spencer isn't not getting along with his mentor. He would've accompanied Gideon to meet with a past mass murderer, only you're here, and so he'd found unrelated reasons to stay. 
“We're fine,” Spencer says, not wanting to say more and give himself away. 
“Well, he took Morgan.” You pout, your voice dripping to a wistful whine. “What am I gonna do now without him? None of you guys ever wanna play with me.” 
Hotch smiles to himself. Spencer's stomach ties itself in knots, a tight noose that grows tighter still when you notice his expression and lean in toward your superior. “What's that smile for, Hotchner?” 
“Don't you have emails to look through?”  
You hold your cheek in your hand lightly, fingertips digging into the soft of your cheek. Your smile is like a kick to the chest, achingly sweet on such a pretty face. “No…” Your pinky digs into the corner of your mouth. “I don't remember that being on my agenda today.” 
“Consider it an addition.” 
Is Hotch flirting back? Spencer isn't sure why that strikes him so hard. Maybe because Hotch would actually have a chance with you if he wanted it; your flirting with Hotch is more real than if it were with Spencer, because Spencer is a twenty-something know-it-all who still dresses like his mom buys his clothes. 
“It's a lot of emails, boss,” you say. 
“You have time. Start with the ones sent by Hughes and work your way down.” Hotch slides the login information across the desk into your reach. 
You look at it unhappily. Look up at him. 
Just being looked at by you is a full body experience. Whenever you look at him, he begs himself to play it cool as Hotch is now, to treat it as the affectionate playfulness of a friend rather than serious flirting. He'd have a better chance of being taken seriously by you if he didn't blush whenever you so much as breathed in the same room. 
He wishes he could respond calmly like Hotch. (He wishes you'd flirt with him and him alone. He buries that deep.) 
Envy eats at his hands. Pins and needles he tries to shake away. His movements draw your attention, and your smile worsens, which is to say sweetens, like seeing him again is a treat for the eyes. 
“You'll help me, won't you, baby?” you ask.
He goes a little blind. 
Hotch and Elle watch the encounter with similar parts pity and amusement. 
“You can read through them so quickly, I could really use your…” —you drag your fingertips down your face until your nails are at your jaw— “expertise.” 
“Reid has his own tasks–” 
“I can help,” Spencer interrupts. 
You drop your hand from your face altogether. “Thank you. Have I mentioned how much I missed you while I was away?” 
“Only five times,” Elle says under her breath. 
“They try so very hard to keep us apart. It's not fair.” 
Because unlike Reid, you don't have multiple degrees. You're still learning, and you can't be here permanently, but your talent, your knack for profiling, is unignorable. You're guaranteed a place on the team as soon as you can prove yourself to Strauss. Without a Gideon to vouch for you, that could take a while, and yet you're never jealous of Spencer skipping a few hurdles to get here. 
If anything, you admire him. “They don't understand our bond, that's all. And together we're hard to beat. Isn't that right, Spence?” 
Perhaps Spencer shouldn't be jealous. You don't call Hotch by anything so saccharine, after all. 
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quintinh43 · 18 days
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3 Times Quinn Almost Proposed + 1 Time He Actually Did
The best decision Quinn ever made was you. From the second he stumbled into that Cafe with his parents, to moving in with you, to admitting he loved you and everything else in between. It was a no-brainer that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. And there was no doubt in his mind that you felt the same way.
"I can't believe you're proposing," Jack said, tapping his fingers against the center console of Quinn's car. He never could sit still, and sometimes it grated on Quinn's nerves.
"Why? Do you think it's too early?" Quinn asks anxiously, running his tongue against his lips.
Luke pitches forward from the back seat to share his input, "You've been dating for like what? Five?" He asks, doing some quick math on his fingers.
Quinn nods, "Since March,"
"Ya know, we still haven't forgiven you for not telling us immediately," Jack huffs, crossing his arms over his chest.
"If it's any consolation, you are the first people I wanted to tell," Quinn says placatingly.
"Quinner, go easy on our uneducated brother, he doesn't know what the word consolation means," Luke says seriously.
Quinn snorts a laugh as Jack turns around to swat Luke on the head. "I have a bigger vocabulary than you dumbass!"
Before the two of them can escalate into a full-blown bickering match, Quinn interrupts, "Back to my problem, guys! Do you think it's too early to propose?" His fingers tap nervously on the steering wheel as he navigates to the jewellery store.
"There's no proper timeline when it comes to proposing Quinny, it comes down to when you are ready and you feel like it's the right time in your relationship," Jack says.
"I mean, you already knew you wanted to spend the rest of your life with Y/n, so this is just taking the next step towards that, isn't it?" Luke adds, adjusting his Devils Hockey cap over his curls.
"When did you two become so wise?" Quinn grumbles as he pulls into the parking lot.
"We've always been wise beyond our years," Luke says puffing his chest out. Jack flicks his cap off his head, rolling his eyes.
"Sure Lukey," Quinn snorts, running a hand through his hair.
"Alright boys, let's get this done." Jack claps, practically jumping out of the car.
It wasn't hard at all. Quinn chose a shop where he could completely customize the ring, and with access to your Pinterest board and all the rings that you already own, he knew almost exactly how he wanted it to look. The only thing he was nervous about was whether or not you would like it.
"Don't overthink it too much Quinn, you know her better than you know yourself," Jack squeezes his shoulder comfortingly.
"You could propose with a ring pop, and she would treasure it for the rest of her life," Luke adds, with a roll of his eyes.
The three of them are in and out of the shop within an hour, and Quinn is smiling his ass off all the way home.
1.
A week later, Quinn picks up the ring. It's even better than he imagined it would be in real life. As his car pulls into the driveway of the lakehouse, he sees you out front with his mom, helping her tend to her garden.
You kneel in the dirt, sunglasses perched on your nose, and a canucks cap on your head. Smiling and laughing with Ellen as you both pull weeds from the ground. Quinn's heart beats out of his chest with happiness, and he's struck with the urge to kneel in the dirt next to you and present the ring to you right then.
When you notice that he arrived, you grin widely, giving him a wave. There's dirt smudged across your nose and under your nails, and Quinn thinks the ring would be a lovely accessory to your mud-stained hands.
The outline of the ring box feels warm in his pocket as he approaches you and his mom, "Hi babe," he greets, dropping a kiss to the top of your head, and it takes everything in his bones not to get down on one knee and pull out the ring right now.
"Hi Mom," he says with a quiet smile, giving her a kiss on the cheek. Her eyes twinkle knowingly.
"Jack and Luke are napping upstairs, and the two of us are going to start lunch as soon as we're done this."
Quinn nods, "Lemme change and I'll come help you two," he runs up the stairs, tucks the ring box safely at the top of his closet and changes into shorts and a t-shirt to help you and his mom in the garden.
2.
Quinn never expected to be the guy who obsessively walked around with his engagement ring in his pocket after he bought it. But here he was, on the boat, with the ring sitting in the glove compartment. Which you had complete access to.
Jack had called him an idiot, stating that a number of things could've happened, from you finding the ring accidentally, or it falling into the water. Or maybe even a shark eating it. Luke was quick to call Jack an idiot, saying that there were no sharks in Lake Erie. Jack rolled his eyes and flicked Luke in the forehead saying it was to emphasize how stupid Quinn was being by bringing the ring with him onto the boat.
Quinn is currently in the driver's seat, you're on the wakeboard, and the rest of the boys are littered around the boat, whooping and cheering as you throw the rope and tip backwards into the water with a salute.
Trevor whistles low with admiration, "Wow, Mrs. Huggy is a professional,"
"She's not Mrs. Huggy yet, but she will be soon," Quinn mutters under his breath just as you climb the ladder back onto the boat.
It takes a minute for the words to register, but as soon as they do Trevor's jaw is on the floor. He stares back and forth between you and Quinn.
Jack, Quinn, and Luke wear various degrees of alarm on their faces, hoping and praying that you didn't hear anything.
"Damn, guys, was I that bad?" You laugh nervously, and you take in the looks on their faces. You unzip your life jacket and squeeze as much water out of your hair as you can.
"He-" Trevor starts pointing at Quinn, but before any words can actually leave his mouth, Jack is tipping Trevor over the edge of the boat and into the water.
You burst into laughter, and the boys seemingly return to normal as a soaking-wet Trevor climbs back into the boat, muttering obscenities under his breath. "Alright, who's next?"
"Me," Quinn says, desperate to get away from Trevor's pointed smirk, "You're driving," he says, pushing you gently into the driver seat where he was previously seated.
"Are you sure you want me to drive?" You ask skeptically, brow raised.
"O'course babe, there's no one I'd trust more." Quinn punctuated his sentence with a kiss on your cheek. Jack makes an offended noise, that sounds like a dying bird of some kind and you laugh at him.
Quinn rolls his eyes at him as he zips his life jacket and gets into the water for his turn on the wakeboard. He gives you a thumbs up, and parrots the movement, before slowly accelerating. You stand at the wheel of the boat, half twisted towards the back, so you can keep an eye on Quinn.
Quinn stands easily, and you smile accelerating a bit more. You turn in patterns that aren't too sharp but still make nice big waves for Quinn to ride. He's grinning like a madman. You maneuver the boat in a manner that gives him a wave to jump off of if he wants to.
He takes the opportunity, sailing through the air and managing a half spin before he hits the water. You drive around him in a slow circle as he resurfaces.
"That was fucking amazing! Where did you learn to drive a boat like that?" Trevor asks admiringly.
You shrug, cheeks heating under the praise, "My dad taught me," you say, crawling to the back of the boat and offering Quinn a hand as he climbs the ladder, "Been driving watercraft since I was like, twelve or something," you grin, squeaking as Quinn shakes his wet hair out in your direction, "You should see what I can do on a jet ski."
Jack whistles heartily, "We might have to take you up on that one of these days,"
"Sure, Jack, if you think you can handle getting your ass beat by a girl," you smirk. Jack scoffs offendedly, and Luke cackles from where he lies at the front of the boat.
Quinn is smiling so hard, his eyes crinkling at the corners, "I think we have to upgrade you to Captain for the summer, that was the best boat driving out of all of us," Quinn praises, pressing his lips to your hair.
"Seriously!" Jack says excitedly, scrambling for a life jacket, "That looked so fucking fun, no one can ever make waves like that! I'm next." He says jumping in the water before anyone can protest.
"Don't let this one get away Quinner," Luke says, tipping his hat in your direction, "Or I'll take her from you," he throws an over-exaggerated wink in your direction, you giggle and Quinn rolls his eyes. As if the shithead wasn't with him when he bought the ring.
Quinn eyes the glove compartment, where the ring is stored, and thoroughly debates how proposing right now would play out. A sharp whistle from Jack pulls him from his thoughts, and he takes his spot at the back of the boat as Jack spotter.
You resume your place in the driver's seat, and for the rest of the evening, that's where you stay.
Quinn almost has a heart attack when he sees you reach for the glove compartment, but Luke manages to fake trip into you just in time so that Jack can sneakily snag the box and relocate it to one of the other boat compartments.
3.
The house is completely full, with a bunch of the boy's friends who are visiting. Everyone is camped out around the fire pit, nursing beers and laughing loudly. You are curled up in Quinn's lap, head pillowed on his chest while you listen to all of the boys talk about their fondest memories.
You play with the strings of Quinn's hoodie, while he absent-mindedly traces patterns on your arm. His chest rumbles with laughter and his arm tightens around you, as Jack tells a story from when they played together for Team USA. An overwhelming wave of gratitude washes over you. You're grateful for everything in life, and most of all Quinn.
"You're quiet tonight," His lips are pressed against the side of your head, and the comforting baritone of his voice soothes your soul, "doing ok?"
You nod, bringing your fingers up to trace his jaw, "just thinking,"
"Penny for your thoughts?" He speaks low, his words only for your ears, the crackling of the fire, and hearty laughter fade into the background and at this moment it's as if you and Quinn are the only two people who exist.
He was a way of doing that. Making everything else disappear and making you feel like you're the only girl in the world. "I'm so grateful for everything," you answer quietly, "especially for you. Getting to experience life with you, being able to support you, having you there to support me- and just everything that you do and have done for me. You know?"
Quinn's heart swells so wide he thinks it might burst out of his chest. Before he really knows what he's doing, he's slipping out of the chair and kneeling in front of you. You huff because you were enjoying being curled into him.
His hands are on your thighs, and your hands cup his cheeks, thumbs tracing over his cheekbones. Neither of you has noticed that the laughter has died out, and everyone is watching the two of you. Their faces are a mixture of disgust and confusion.
Jack and Luke look downright horrified, sharing a look and exchanging silent words with their eyes.
"Will you m-" Before Quinn can complete his question, Luke is scrambling out of the lawn chair that he and Duker are curled up in and tackling Quinn to the floor.
"BEE!" Jack screeches, adding to the dramatics as he stands on his chair and points in the direction of where Quinn and Luke lay in the grass, "THERE'S A FUCKING BEE!"
There was no bee.
At Jack's distressed yelling, half of the boys are out of their chairs, running around and swatting at the heads of the non-existent bee.
You hold your stomach, laughing at the general chaos. It shouldn't be as funny as it is, but the sight of almost twenty grown men screaming about a bee is pretty hilarious.
"You are welcome you fucking numbskull," Luke hisses in Quinn's ear, as he helps him back up. Quinn gives him a sheepish smile of thanks. Were it not for his brother's antics, he would've regretted that being how he proposed for the rest of his life.
Once the general chaos dies down and everyone is back in their chairs calmly, you speak up with a smirk on your face, "You guys do know Bees are not nocturnal right?"
Quinn looks pointedly at Jack like he's an idiot. As if Quinn has the right to call him an idiot when he almost proposed to the love of his life in front of twenty hockey boys around a campfire on a Tuesday night.
"How do you know that?" Jack asks, crossing his arms over his chest with a pout.
"Yeah," Trevor scoffs, "Seems untrue,"
You snort, taking a sip of your beer, "I'm an elementary school teacher, dumbass, the science unit about bugs is practically ingrained in my brain. Bees are definitely not nocturnal."
"Nope, there definitely was a bee," Luke chimes, "I literally saved Quinn's life."
"Yeah, I saw it too," Dylan adds with a nod.
"It was basically the size of Quinn's head," Cole adds, "really Y/n/n I don't know how you didn't see it," Cole says matter-of-factly.
"I can't believe you guys are trying to gaslight me about bees right now," you snort, nuzzling further into Quinn's warmth.
"I heard it buzzing in my ear, babe," Quinn says seriously.
You roll your eyes at him and tuck your head under his chin and he wraps his arms around you securely, pressing a kiss to your hair, while you argue with the guys about Bees for the next half-an-hour.
+ 1
Quinn slips out of the bedroom to let you finish changing, he pads down the stairs to where his family waits in the kitchen. Jack presents him the ring box, that he had decided to keep with him after the boat incident. Quinn tucks it into his pocket with a deep breath.
"You ready Quinner?" Luke asks, squeezing his shoulder comfortingly.
"Yeah," Quinn nods, breathing deeply.
"She's gonna say yes," Jack reassures, giving Quinn a pat on the back.
"I hope so," Quinn says nervously.
His dad chuckles, "Don't worry kid, you're doing great compared to how nervous I was when I was proposing to your mother,"
Ellen laughs fondly, "It's true, he was so nervous he forgot to pull out the ring, and then when he finally did, he dropped it."
Jim rolls his eyes, but the smile stays. Quinn laughs at that, then all his anxieties are bubbling to the surface and spilling past his lips before he can stop them.
"What if she doesn't like the ring? What if she says no, and she thinks it is too soon? What if I fall on my face? What if I lose the ring? What if-"
Jack squishes his cheeks together to keep him from talking. He tips his forehead against Quinn's staring deep into his eyes. "Breathe with me, Quinn,"
Jack takes exaggerated breaths, and Quinn follows his lead. Jim and Ellen quietly slip out of the room, leaving the brothers to themselves.
Once Quinn's breathing returns to normal, Jack lets him go. "She loves you with her whole heart, Quinn. You have nothing to worry about," Luke says, bonking his head against Quinn’s affectionately.
"Thanks, guys," he murmurs, running a hand through his hair with a sigh.
Everything goes smoothly in Quinn's opinion. Even when he practically forgot his whole speech. But if he had to do it again, he wouldn't change a thing.
-
Yeah so this ended up being like 2.9k words....
Anyways enjoy friends!
So it's basically a fic but lazy.
Part of This Universe
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solaireverie · 7 months
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cl16 | salute to me, i'm your american queen
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pairing: charles leclerc x f!sargeant!reader
summary: [ social media au ] what the fuck is a kilometer?!?! or: charles and his girlfriend's adventures
warnings: language
faceclaim: elle fanning + pinterest
author's note: i can't explain this except that it was funny in my head. i should probably be working on the next part of deep blue but ehhhhhh. enjoy!
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yourusername Overjoyed with becoming an official @.tiffanyandco ambassador 🩵 Shop the Formula 1 Commemorative Grand Prix collection on their website, now available worldwide.
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charles_leclerc so this is why you couldn't come to monza? 😨
↪ yourusername sorry babe it was scheduled in advance 🥲
user damn tiffany's marketing department really popped off with choosing THE y/n sargeant to rep this line 💅
↪ user like if you think about it it's really smart, y/n isn't just one of the most popular models rn, she's also directly connected to the sport bc of logan and charles
↪ user she is literally all i want to be in the best way 😤
logansargeant where's my charger y/n? i know you have it
↪ yourusername this could've been a text message logie boy
↪ logansargeant wtf don't call me that
↪ logansargeant also you haven't unblocked me yet from that time i stole your life-size cardboard cutout of charles and brought it to williams hospitality
↪ yourusername you're not helping your case here 😒
↪ carlossainz55 silvia was looking for that y/n 😱
charles_leclerc has added to their story
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f1wagupdate @.yourusername is in the paddock today for the US GP after being spotted yesterday in a hotel near the track! She has been seen in the Ferrari garage.
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user uhhh why isn't she in the williams garage???
↪ user uhhh probably cause she's dating a ferrari driver???
↪ user chill 😭 i'm sure she'll drop by
↪ user just say you're a hater and move on bro
charles_leclerc has added to their story
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charles_leclerc Happy birthday my love 🥳❤️ I'm glad you had fun at your party 😉
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yourusername DELETE THE THIRD PICTURE
yourusername HOW COULD YOU
yourusername WHAT IS THIS BETRAYAL
yourusername count your days, charles leclerc
↪ logansargeant she just left the restaurant, i think you need to take her threats seriously dude
user charles is just like all the other sassy boyfriends out there 😂
user damn the road's looking real comfy tonight (i want what they have)
↪ yourusername oh dear don't do anything rash please 😭
↪ user this is why i love y/n lmao even when she's pissed at her bf she finds time to be the nicest human being ever
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yourusername just a bit older 🤟
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gigihadid happy birthday darling 🥰
↪ yourusername thank you gigi!
logansargeant happy bday sis :)
↪ yourusername AWWWW LOGAN 🥹
user is charles still alive??? 😭😭😭
↪ yourusername who knows? 🤷‍♀️
↪ charles_leclerc i already said i'm sorry!!!
↪ yourusername do y'all hear something?
↪ charles_leclerc we're literally on instagram y/n... 😐
carlossainz55 y/n, charles says that he'll do anything if you'll talk to him again...
↪ yourusername he knows what i want 😪
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tagged: yourusername
charles_leclerc Thank you for making my life so much better just by existing in it. I love you more than words can express. At the end of the day, you're who I want by my side. I'm so glad that I'll get to call you my wife for the rest of my life 🤍
💍 11.11.23
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yourusername je t'aime 🤍
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likes and reblogs are appreciated!
masterlist | taglist: @boiohboii @vellicora
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roosterforme · 2 months
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The Younger Kind Part 53 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Bradley is surprised by what Maverick has to tell him, and he's not sure how to convey his mixed feelings to you. The urge to keep everything inside is strong, but you catch on right away and shut it down. In the end, he's not sure he has made the right decision.
Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff, pregnancy topics, and age gap (18+)
Length: 4500 words
Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader
Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.
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There was something a bit ominous about the way Maverick said, "Rooster. We need to talk." 
Bradley followed him toward the tower immediately, getting more annoyed by the second. This was supposed to be an exciting day. You and Bradley had started telling people you were engaged. It was a shame that Casey was among the first to find out, but Bradley had expected Maverick of all people to remember his plans for the weekend. 
But Bradley didn't say a word until they were inside the tower in private. "She said yes, by the way," he told his godfather blandly. "I proposed after the air show."
Maverick grinned and pulled him in for a tight hug that Bradley barely returned. "That's wonderful. I was just about to ask, but I knew she would say yes." He slapped him on the back before releasing him. "So it's safe to tell Penny now?"
Bradley rolled his eyes and couldn't help but smile. "Yeah. It's safe. She can't ruin anything at this point."
Then Maverick's smile started to fade, and Bradley remembered exactly why he had followed him here to begin with. "We really do need to talk, Bradley, and I'm not sure you're going to want to hear this right now."
Bradley braced his hand on the wall next to him and asked, "Are you deploying me?"
"Not exactly," he replied as if he was trying to choose his words very carefully. 
But Bradley was so used to being spoiled right now, he didn't have the patience for this. He had you and Noah and now a baby and a wedding, too. "Just spit it out, Mav. Please."
He glanced around and cleared his throat, and Bradley's nerves just got worse when he finally spoke. "Your name came up behind closed doors. The admirals have you listed as a top selection for a training mission."
"What kind of training?" Bradley asked, wishing he would just get on with it.
Maverick's voice dropped lower as he said, "Sixth-generation fighters. Nothing that's available in the U.S. You'd be one of the first to fly them for tactical testing."
"You're joking," Bradley rasped, his body frozen as Maverick shook his head. 
"It's no joke. It's also optional. Not your traditional deployment. Nobody is going to force you to go this time. I can't supply you with many more details unless you give your verbal and written agreement to participate, but I can say that this would go a long way toward career advancement."
"Shit." 
You were pregnant. This was not the best time to leave for optional training. But six-generation technology was something he might never get to experience during his career unless he partook in this. It would be years, maybe even a decade, before Naval aviators were flying these jets off of carriers for real missions. He knew exactly what this meant. He could be among the very first to take them up in the air, and his flight details could help shape the way these jets were eventually distributed to the United States and used by the military. "Jesus, Mav."
He nodded in response. "I know the timing isn't ideal for you and your family, but it's something you should seriously consider. Go home and talk to your fiancée about it, and if you decide you want to be included in the meeting on Thursday, let me know."
"Right," Bradley muttered. "Am I dismissed?"
"Yeah. Head home. I'll see you tomorrow."
Bradley should have gone directly home and waited for you and Noah to arrive, but instead he took his time in the locker room. He tried to imagine what it would be like to leave you for a few weeks or months while you were pregnant, but it made him feel too uncomfortable. He could turn the opportunity down without even mentioning it to you. That actually sounded like a pretty good plan. 
While he showered and got changed, he felt guilty in a different way. He didn't want to hide this from you even though all he wanted to do was protect you. And part of him really wanted to fly these prototype jets. If he did, he could leave a lasting impression on the future of Naval aviation even after he was done spending time in the cockpit.
"Fuck," he muttered as he packed all of his things up for the day and headed outside to his Bronco. It was actually pretty late now, and there was no doubt you were at home with Noah, probably making dinner. But Bradley took a detour to the coffee shop first, and then he stood there like an idiot for a few seconds, because he wasn't sure if you were still supposed to have caffeine or not. 
He ended up ordering the decaf version of your favorite drink. Then he asked the barista to borrow a sharpie, and he wrote something new on the cup this time. He stuffed a few dollars into the tip jar and headed home, still completely undecided about what he wanted to do.
---------------------------
Noah was his usual adorable self, and you wanted to be having a good day, but you were exhausted from work and Casey. Dinner was in the oven, and you were taking the time to carefully cut apples into peanut butter snails for Noah to have as his dessert, but Bradley wasn't even home yet. 
You were looking forward to getting changed out of your wrinkled scrubs and taking a long shower, which would be much easier to do if he were here. Everything was easier with him around. You started planning a trip to Disneyland on your phone while dinner cooked, but you wanted to run it past him before you booked anything. You smiled softly, knowing Bradley would tell you to put it on your princess card before thanking you for planning the next family vacation. But you had your first doctor's appointment coming up and thought it was better to go to Disneyland after that. But October was looking promising.
When you heard the front door open, and Skittles scampered into the living room, you felt your body sag against the counter in relief. "Daddy's home," you told Noah, and he pushed his new dinosaur coloring book aside and followed after Skittles. You brought up the rear, but that just meant that you'd get the longest hug from Bradley when it was your turn. 
"Come here, Mrs. Bradshaw," he rasped after he set Noah and Skittles down, and you were tucked in his embrace with your nose buried against him immediately. It was obvious that he was tired and hungry, but he didn't rush anything. He just held you like his life depended on it. Soft kisses teased along your forehead and temple as he whispered, "I brought you some coffee."
Then you noticed the cup he had set down on the TV stand, and you rubbed your cheek against his chest as you read it. "That's adorable, Daddy." He had scrawled Princess +1 on the cup this time, and it made your face feel warm. "But I think I need to cut back on my caffeine consumption."
"It's decaf, Princess" he whispered, his lips and mustache brushing the shell of your ear. 
The soft moan that left your lips had him chuckling as you said, "The baby and I thank you." Then you ditched his arms in favor of the coffee cup. When the kitchen timer went off, you kept your eyes on Bradley as you walked backwards away from him. "After Noah goes to bed, I want to talk about something important. It rhymes with Tisneyland. I thought we could go next month. After I talk to my doctor, of course."
He winced for a split second, but it would have been impossible to miss. Okay. You thought he made it clear he wanted to go on another family trip. Maybe he changed his mind. "Shit," he whispered, swallowing hard. "We can... we can go. No problem. Whenever you want."
The timer was still buzzing, otherwise you would have pressed the issue. Without another word you turned toward the kitchen and grabbed the oven mitts so you could get dinner on the table. But Bradley was acting strange. He even seemed more subdued with Noah which had you worried. 
"What happened at work?" you asked, sliding a plate of dinner in front of him. 
He shrugged. "Just a regular day. But I did tell Nat we're engaged." At least he smiled when he said that, and then he reached for you, looking up at you as you stood next to him. "Hey, I can't wait to go to Tisneyland with you."
You couldn't help but laugh, but you said, "We don't have to go in October. We can go next year or never. I just thought it was something you wanted to do."
"Book it," he said, squeezing your hip before dropping his hand. "I'll request a day off as soon as you book it after your appointment. We can take a long weekend."
Something was wrong, and you couldn't place it. But his eyes were clouded with doubt and your stomach soured so much, you could barely eat your own dinner. This didn't feel like the sweet man who agreed to go to daycare drop off with you this morning simply because you didn't want to go alone. When you offered to get Noah ready for bed, he agreed without really paying any attention to your words. 
"Come here, Sweet Noah," you whispered after Bradley kissed him goodnight, clearly distracted. You got him into his pajamas and got his teeth brushed, and like usual, he was yawning before his head even hit the pillow. You started to read him the book about farm animals that you picked out a few months ago with Bradley, and even though he was sound asleep by page two, you finished reading it just to have a few extra minutes with him. 
Eventually you found Bradley sitting on the couch with Skittles on his lap. When you leaned against the doorway, he held his hand out to coax you forward. "You didn't tell me about your day," he said softly. 
"I tried to during dinner, but it's like you weren't even there," you bit back, not moving an inch. "What's wrong? You change your mind about getting married?" you asked, holding up your left hand and spinning the ring loose with your fingers. "Or about the baby?"
Now he was up off the couch in an instant, Skittles looking rather alarmed by his sudden movement. "Hey," Bradley snarled, pulling you against him with his left hand and using his right fingers to push your ring back into place. "Don't say that. It's never going to happen."
"Then what's wrong?" you asked, giving him no room to continue to be vague and weird with you. "Just tell me."
"You gonna keep that ring on?" he asked, and you saw a flash of everything you loved so much about him in his eyes.
You pressed up onto your toes and kissed him. "Yes," you whispered before kissing him again and again. "I'll keep it on. Just tell me what's wrong."
He pulled you toward the couch, and after he sat, you straddled his lap while Skittles curled up on the cushion next to you. "Nothing's wrong," he whispered, his big hands sliding down your hips to your thighs, stroking you through the thin fabric of your pants. He was staring at your name where it was embroidered on your scrub shirt instead of meeting your eyes. "Earlier today, Maverick told me about something... interesting."
"Go on," you whispered, raking your fingers through his soft hair. "I already know something's bothering you, so just say it, Daddy."
He nodded slightly and kissed your forearm before he finally met your gaze. "It sounds like there's a brand new fleet of aircrafts with technology updates that have never been flown by American pilots before. I'm on a short list of aviators who have been invited to train on these jets overseas, most likely in the hopes that the Navy will adopt these planes in the future."
You nibbled on your lip and considered his words. "So, it's kind of like a deployment?" you asked, still dragging your fingers through his hair as you scooted a little closer. 
"Sort of," he said softly. "But it's optional. And I'm going to tell Mav I don't want to go. I'll be here, okay? We can go to Disneyland next month."
You studied his handsome face, and while he looked more relaxed now that he told you what Maverick said, you knew that wasn't the end of it. You pieced it together in your mind and leaned the rest of the way to his lips. He accepted your kiss as he rubbed his hands slowly along your thighs. You hummed and let your forehead rest against his. 
Your voice was calm as you asked, "But you do want to go, don't you?"
He remained quiet, but he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you so your body was flush against his and your cheek was resting on his shoulder. You relaxed against the steady rise and fall of his chest and the soothing beating of his heart. 
When he finally spoke, his voice was gravelly and deep, and it made you shiver. "The last thing I want is to be away from you and Noah and the baby. I don't want you under the impression that those thoughts are on my mind, okay? That's not what this is."
"I believe you, Bradley," you whispered against his neck. "But this sounds like a big deal. You made the list? Over so many other people? They chose you to try something brand new?"
His voice was a little more forceful as he said, "I do not want to leave you alone right now. It wouldn't be fair."
You kissed your way up his neck until your lips found his earlobe, and you kissed him there, too. You inhaled the smell of his shampoo as you said, "I love you, and I want to support you as much as you support me. If you want to do this, then I think you should."
There was no denying that you felt safer and more loved when you were with Bradley than you ever had before. But this was his career, and it sounded like he had a chance to be part of something huge. 
"You're right, Baby. I do want to go."
You nodded as he held you. "Do you have any other details?"
"No. There's a meeting on Thursday that I can sit in on if I let Mav know I'm interested, but I doubt I'll get a ton of information short of a departure date and maybe a location unless I sign on for this thing."
You kissed his cheek and pulled away so you could look at his face. "Next time, just tell me what's on your mind instead of trying to make an important decision without me."
"I'm sorry," he whispered, reaching for your left hand and kissing your palm and the spot where the band of your engagement ring wrapped around your finger. "But next time, don't even pretend like you're taking this thing off."
"I won't."
--------------------------
Somehow Bradley made it all the way to the meeting on Thursday, his curiosity piqued. When he found out where the meeting was being held, he was even more surprised. 
"Come to Admiral Simpson's office promptly at one o'clock," Maverick told him, and Bradley silently thanked you for clearing things up with Cyclone the way you had. There was no way his name would have made it onto any list if you didn't send the man a glass of bourbon at Warlock's retirement party. 
"I'll be there," he promised. And if he was surprised by the location, he was even more surprised when he showed up to find Cyclone and Maverick waiting for him and him alone. 
"Sir?" Bradley asked, standing until he was given permission to sit. He knew better than to ask a single question about the training before he had some information to work with, but his brain was swirling nonstop. You and he stayed up last night making a list of things he needed to know before making a decision. For example, Bradley desperately wanted to fly these sixth-gen fighters, but he wasn't willing to be gone for months on end. Hell, you still hadn't seen your doctor yet. That appointment wasn't happening until Monday.
"Lieutenant Bradshaw," Cyclone said, pushing a folder toward Bradley as he sat down behind his desk. "We chose you for this training protocol. Only you. If you are unwilling, then we will regroup and try to select someone else. However, time is tight and details are going to be scarce unless you agree to participate. Do you understand?"
"I understand, Sir," he replied, and then Cyclone tapped his fingers on the folder before releasing it to Bradley. 
Maverick was standing near the window, and Bradley got the feeling that his godfather was proud of him. He still wasn't sure why he was the only one here, but as he opened the folder and skimmed the pages, many of his immediate questions were answered.
As soon as he saw it, he shook his head. "You want me to fly to Japan on Monday morning? Because if that's a hard set date, then my immediate answer is no." 
He closed the folder and started to hand it back to Cyclone who was sharing a look with Maverick. "And if we could push it to Tuesday?" he asked without taking the folder.
"I'm listening," Bradley replied, honestly wondering what he had that the other pilots didn't.
Maverick stepped away from the window. "Bradl- Lieutenant Bradshaw," he corrected right away. Bradley realized it was hard for both of them to separate their professional relationship from the personal one they shared, especially when they did things like take family vacations together. "This is a once in a lifetime opportunity. You were chosen for your skill set and the way you prioritize communication. We don't want to have to select someone else, especially when we believe you'd be the best pilot available."
Cyclone cleared his throat and added, "Consider Tuesday morning your new departure time. Do you have an answer?"
Bradley blinked at him a few times, glanced down at the information in the folder, and then looked up again. "You need me to give you an answer right now? Sir?"
He nodded once and folded his hands. "Before you leave my office."
---------------------------
You were too tired to do anything after work except pick Noah up from preschool. Seriously, if Casey even tried to talk to you, it was going to be her funeral. But for once, luck was on your side, because she wasn't even there. You signed Noah out without incident and headed home to talk about this special training mission.  
Bradley must have learned his lesson from earlier this week. You couldn't believe he was about to make a decision without you like that, just to try to save you the stress. You could handle it. After your appointment on Monday, you could handle anything that came your way. 
When he got home shortly after you did, he told you immediately that he needed to talk to you. He kissed Noah on the top of his head and pulled you to the kitchen doorway, a frantic look on his face as he stroked your cheek with his fingers. "I'm going."
Your heart plummeted. He really did decide without talking to you about the details. You wanted him to go, but you also wanted to talk about the pros and cons with him first. But in the end, you really had no say here at all. "You are? I thought we were going to talk it through."
"We were," he whispered. "That was my intention, Princess. But they made me decide before I could leave Cyclone's office."
You made a concerned face. "Cyclone's office? How did everyone fit in there?"
Bradley shook his head, his cheeks a little ruddy from frustration or embarrassment, you weren't sure which. "They didn't, Princess. It was just me. I was the whole list of people."
"Oh," you gasped. It was hard for you to understand at times that he was at the top of his career, because he was just as devoted to his life at home. With you and Noah. "Where are you going? And when do you leave?"
"Japan," he rasped, his face full of guilt now. "And I leave on Tuesday morning."
The pounding of your heart was making you feel nauseous. "Tuesday?"
He nodded. "They originally wanted me to leave on Monday, and if that was the case, I was ready to turn it down, no further questions asked."
"You were?"
His eyes went wide. "I'm not missing the first appointment for something optional."
You nodded slowly, because that brought up your next question. You sensed he might be missing subsequent appointments. "When will you be back?"
He wrapped his hands around your hips and pulled you closer to him. "I have no idea."
Then you started to cry, and you felt like such an idiot. You wanted him to go.  You wanted him to have this experience and impact new pilots in the future, but you also thought you'd have a little more time before he left. "Just come back safely," you whispered while he let you cry in his arms.
--------------------------
Bradley noticed right away that you were a little distant. Maybe you needed a day or two to process everything, but in another day or two, he'd be packing and leaving. He thought he was doing what you wanted him to, but you cried yourself to sleep on Thursday. You were obviously exhausted and frankly kind of moody, and now he was kicking himself for agreeing to a training mission that had no disclosed ending date. 
"Fuck," he grunted on Saturday afternoon when he took Noah to the park so you could have some time to yourself. Pretty soon, you'd be on single, pregnant parent duty around the clock for probably weeks on end. Bradley's guilt was really prevalent now.
"Daddy?" Noah asked as he was being pushed on the swing. 
"Yeah, Bub?"
"Can I have a Halloween costume?"
"Of course," Bradley groaned, cradling his forehead in his hand. Halloween was still six weeks away, but he could already imagine the tears in his son's eyes if he wasn't home in time for trick-or-treating. Hell, he hadn't even explained to Noah that he was going away again yet. "You can pick something out with Mommy," he added, his voice harsh now.
Noah looked back at him over his shoulder and started to slow himself down. When he jumped out of the swing, he ran to Bradley who scooped him up. "Can we go home?" he asked. He wrapped his arms around Bradley's neck like he could tell he needed a hug. "I miss Mommy and Skittles."
Bradley kissed his son's cheek. "You know what? I miss them, too. Let's go home." He buckled Noah in and drove slowly. He should probably start packing tonight, but he was just dying to spend some time alone with you. The last thing he wanted was to return to a quiet house and a quiet fiancée right now. You and he were going to need to have another conversation about this, and he already felt like a jerk for wanting to have everything. 
When he pulled into the driveway as the sun was starting to set, you were in the front yard with Skittles on her leash. You were wearing one of your little floral dresses, and Bradley almost ran into your car as he looked at you. God, he was stupid for voluntarily agreeing to leave you. Once he was parked, you opened the back door and started unbuckling Noah and lifting him out like the most devoted mom in the world, and Bradley was about to lose his mind if he couldn't sort this out tonight.
"Hey, Daddy," you said softly as you turned, holding a very sleepy looking Noah against your shoulder. "Should we feed him dinner and get him in bed?"
"I think so," Bradley replied, eyeing you up and down, his gaze catching on your glossy lips. "You look gorgeous. Why are you all dressed up?"
You shrugged like it was nothing. "I just wanted to look cute for you."
His eyebrows shot up in response. "Don't you always?"
A soft smile found your lips as you started to head for the front door with Noah. Bradley followed you inside, and once Noah was eating leftovers, he pulled you into the hallway where he pushed you back against the wall. 
"Does this mean we can talk about some things tonight?" he asked, stroking your bottom lip before kissing you softly. 
You moaned gently into his mouth as his weight pressed against you. "Yes," you whispered. "Of course. We can talk about anything you want."
"You told me you wanted me to fly this mission," he said, and you nodded before you kissed the tip of his nose.
"I know. And I do. I just needed to process everything. The timeline just threw me off a little bit. And if I'm being honest, it's never not going to be scary when you leave."
"I'm coming back," he promised, knowing full well he only had so much control over that. "I'm coming back to my family as soon as I can."
This time when you nodded, you threw your arms around his neck and kissed him hard on the lips. "I know, Daddy," you whimpered between filthy kisses, rubbing yourself against him. He rutted you back into the wall, and you moaned his name as he cupped your ass. And that's when he felt it, firm against his fingertips compared to the softness of your body.
"Fuck," he grunted, easing your dress up inch by inch until he was touching the silicone. 
"Do you want me to put my crown on to match?" you asked sweetly as he spread you open wider with his hands. "I can be your going away present."
Bradley leaned closer until his lips were pressed to your ear. "I want you in bed with your crown on as soon as Noah's asleep. Then I'm going to fuck the absolutely shit out of you. And then after that, I'm going to make love to you until you're satisfied. And then we're going to talk about everything that's going to happen while I'm in Japan until we're both comfortable with all of it. And then we're going to start planning our wedding."
"Yes," you agreed. "That's exactly how I want to spend our evening."
----------------------------
Just a few more chapters left. Do you think he made a good decision? Leaving Princess right now? Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
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whore-era · 1 year
Text
1-800-GIRLS
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☁︎ modern!ellie x sex-hotline-operator!reader, very small mention of dealer!ellie ☁︎ summary: where ellie dials the wrong number and meets you instead. ☁︎ warnings: contains smut! 18+ only. top/dom!ellie, bottom/sub!reader, mentions spitplay/breathplay/overstimulation, mentions sexual interactions with men, dirty talking, guided masturbation (r!recieving), use of fem nicknames (babygirl, sweet girl, pretty girl, pup, puppy) let me know if i missed anything else pls. ☁︎ a/n: i feel like this kinda sucked bc towards the end i kinda rushed it, but i couldn't shake this idea n knew i had to write it. hope u like it bbs<3 also thank u to my bestie @elskittie for helping me figure some things out w this fic ☁︎ word count: 4,463 ☁︎ 1-800-GIRLS part 2
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phone call style story — reader is in italics, ellie is in bold.
monday, 12:45am → incoming call from 307-222-4578 (jackson, WY)
thank you for calling 1-800-GIRLS, it's sugar speaking. how can i help you, hot stuff?
uhh.. i just wanted to order a pepperoni pizza..
oh yeah? you want something hot and ready? i have something hot and ready for you.
ummm..
you hear some shuffling in the background, "jess! i think you gave me the wrong number!" the person comes back on the line again.
this isn't papa tony's cheesy pizza place?
....do you want me to roleplay as papa tony's cheesy pizza place?
woah woah woah! roleplay?? who the fuck am i on the phone with?
this is sugar from 1-800-GIRLS.....a sex hotline...for you know? phone sex.
PHONE SEX?? you hear the girl's voice yell in the background, "jesse! you ass! you gave me the number to a phone sex hotline!"
"does she sound hot?"
"well yeah, but—"
hey, you do know it's $1 a minute right? you've been on the line for almost 5 minutes, babe.
HUHH?? hell no..ok thanks sugar bear, or whatever. bye!
the line clicks off, and you shrug. sitting back in your bed to continue watching your favorite netflix show. you feel your work phone vibrate again, the name flashing 'bobby', a regular who frequents the hotline.
sighing and picking up your phone and holding it to your ear, you take a bite from your sandwich as you answer your 15th call this evening, "thank you for calling 1-800-GIRLS, it's sugar speaking. how can i help you, big boy?"
tuesday, 2:12am → incoming call from 307-222-4578 (jackson, WY)
thank you for calling 1-800-GIRLS, it's sugar speaking. how can i help you tonight, cutie?
hey....sugar.. i just- er- wanted to apologize for yesterday. my buddy got your number confused with a pizza place we really wanted to try. didn't mean to sound rude last night.
it's no issue, babe. don't sweat about it.
.......
.......
soooo.... is that the only reason why you called?
ellie didn't want to admit that she was attracted to 'sugar's' voice and that she'd been thinking about it all day during class. but also, ellie was high as a fucking kite, which gave her the courage to even dial the number again anyways.
i— uh— well— how does this whole thing work?
what thing? the hotline?
yeah..
well, you call me, we have phone sex or talk or whatever, and then you hang up. again, it's a dollar a minute.
okay, okay, i get it. so we can just talk? about anything?
yeah, if you want to.
sick.
ellie takes another drag from her joint, before speaking again.
so, do you like doing this? being an operator or whatever?
you let out a laugh, which ellie caught.
specify what you mean by 'like'?
i mean— this is your job. do you enjoy doing it?
ehh...i guess.
c'mon. you can be honest with me.
well, being a sex hotline operator has it's downsides. obviously helping old men jack off gets a little weird sometimes — they have some unusual fetishes.
oh yeah? what's been the weirdest one so far?
uhhh..i have this one regular who has me pretend i'm a ghost. apparently, having sex with ghosts is a real turn on for him.
what the fuck. seriously?
mhm, it's true.
shit, dude....i don't think i could ever do what you do. i dunno how you can do it.
well when you have college tuition and rent to worry about, the downsides don't seem all that bad.
holy shit, you're in college? how old are you anyways?
19.
that's crazy. we're around the same age. i figured you were a bit older.
how 'bout you? how old are you?
21.
not bad not bad. you're way different from the clients i usually get.
yeah? how?
considering my usual clients are 40 to 60 year old men who are married with kids and have secret fetishes, i'd say you're out of my ballpark.
ellie laughs.
how do you know i'm not secretly an old, 57 year old man who's married to my wife janet with three kids? and i have a balloon fetish?
you let out a giggle, adjusting your sleep shorts as you lay back down on your bed, completely invested in your conversation with this girl.
well, how can i appease your balloon fantasies?
i'm just fuckin' with ya. definitely not a man and i have the more normal kinks and fetishes.
is that so? what are the 'normal' kinks and fetishes?
uhhhh....well i'm into bondage, i love tying girls up..i dunno, just seeing them open and vulnerable does something to me. i'm into breathplay, spitplay, overstimulation, and i'm definitely a dominant so—
all you could do was gape as the girl went on her tangent, listing off every kink she could think of. you gulped, suddenly getting a bit nervous from this topic of conversation. you were experienced in the field of phone sex, but actual sex was a totally different world you had no practice in.
so, how 'bout you sugar?
...uhhh....i'm a virgin actually.
the other girl went silent on the other side of the line.
what? but you work as a sex hotline operator.
oh yeah- but— hold on, i'm getting another call. i'll speak to you some other time.
you hung up and threw your work phone across your bed, laying your head down on your pillows. talking to men was so much easier for you, so why do you get all caught up when you talk to a girl?
it was nearly 3:30am, so you decided to turn in and call it a night, mentally preparing yourself for a busy day tomorrow.
wednesday, 11:45am
sitting next to professor adams, patiently waiting for the students to turn in their quizzes, you try to focus on the text of your 'philosophy 101' book.
you were grateful that professor adams gave you the opportunity to be his teacher's assistant for a little bit of extra cash, and you weren't complaining either. the tasks he gave you were easy for a mere $16 an hour. still, it wasn't enough to support all of your bills, so you couldn't drop the hotline gig.
"and time! everyone hand your quizzes in to my TA, regardless if you finished or not," professor announced. all the students shuffled towards the front, handing you their quizzes as you neatly put them in a small pile.
"ah shit— let me put the date on that," a girl, with a very familiar voice spoke. looking up, you're greeted with the most attractive girl you've seen in your life. she had brunette hair and green eyes, with a small scar on her right brow. was this..? no, it couldn't be. that would be insane.
handing you the paper, her hand brushes against yours. you look down at her quiz, seeing in messy, scribbled black ink the name ellie williams.
slinging her backpack on one arm, she heads out the door, "jesse! wait up for me!"
leaving you in a daze, you were completely speechless by the idea that one of your new, favorite clients from your nighttime job is actually a student at your university.
saturday, 1:45am → 1:14:34 ongoing call with 401-890-6798 (cranston, RI)
thanks, sugar. will be calling you again at the same time next week.
no problem, sir. goodnight. dream of me.
sure will, babygirl.
the line clicks as the older man hangs up, and you shudder a bit, feeling uncomfortable after having to roleplay as a ghost, again.
sighing heavily, you place your work phone on your desk and pick up your real phone, opening instagram and scrolling on your feed as you mindlessly snack on some gummy bears.
you double tap to like some of your friends pictures, wishing you were out at a party, drinking some lukewarm beer and dancing with your girls to the latest tiktok hits.
but instead you were cooped up in your apartment, dirty talking old men through their fantasies and bearing witness to their guttural groans and masturbation. it was a shame that friday and saturday nights were your busiest evenings.
taking your bottom lip between your teeth, you ponder for a moment, your finger hovering over the instagram search bar.
fuck it, you thought, typing 'ellie williams' and hitting search.
the username @_elliewilliams pops up, and bingo. it was the same girl from professor adams class.
luckily her profile was public, so you take your time carefully combing through her instagram account, mindful not to accidentally like her posts or anything.
ellie's feed consisted of smoking weed, eating out, and hanging with her friends, jesse and dina. there were only two selfies she had posted — one of her and an older gentleman and one mirror picture of her in a grey hoodie and a light brown canvas jacket that made her look so good.
the ringing from your work phone caught you off guard, causing you to jump in your chair and exit out of the instagram app. you take a look at the number, and speak of the devil, it was ellie herself. she was the only jackson number that ever contacted you.
saturday, 2:10am → incoming call from 307-222-4578 (jackson, WY)
thank you for calling 1-800-GIRLS, sugar speaking. what can i do for you, handsome?
hey, sugar. just wanted to apologize for how our last conversation went. i probably pushed a boundary or something— i'm not sure if you're supposed to talk about personal things with customers— so, i'm sorry.
you let out a soft laugh.
why is it when you call me, you're always apologizing?
'cause i'm a fuck up, that's why.
nooo, that's not true. besides, don't worry about it. your question just caught me off guard, you know? never had clients ask things about me before i guess.
ahh, gotcha. so...were you busy before i called?
you shake your head, even though she was on the phone and couldn't see you.
uh, not really. my line doesn't usually get busy until...12 midnight ish.. it slows down by like 2 am though. how about you? what are you up to this friday night?
i just got back home from a party. business was slow and it was getting boring, so i dipped.
business? what business?
ah— well—
ellie silently cursed to herself, not wanting to scare you away with her current occupation.
if i tell you what i do, promise you won't get freaked out or anything?
you're talking to a phone sex hotline operator. don't worry.
you can hear her laugh from the other end.
well, fuck it, cat's out of the bag. i deal weed on campus and shit.
ahhh. i like that. is that how you can afford the minutes you spend calling me?
yup. i can stay on the phone for hours if we wanted.
maybe you'll be my only customer.
i wouldn't complain.
speaking of customers, do you want me to save your number under a specific name or nickname or anything? since i'm assuming you're gonna be a regular?
trying to confirm if it was indeed ellie you were speaking with, you sat on the edge of your chair, anxiety building in your belly.
what nicknames do your clients usually pick?
uhhh. master, sir, king, mister, alpha— umm and daddy.
something stirred inside ellie hearing that last nickname roll off your tongue.
you could just put me down as ellie.
got it.
what do i call you? do i just keep calling you sugar?
well, you're a customer. you can call me anything you like, but, for formalities and privacy, i can only tell you my hotline nickname — sugar.
okay, okay, that makes sense. you're not really allowed to have any personal or close relationships with clients, huh?
no, not really. mostly for safety purposes.
ellie was a little disappointed to know that she wouldn't be able to get to know the girl she was talking to beyond calling on the phone. she already felt herself getting attached. your voice was alluring and enticing, and she couldn't help but want to hear it more, and possibly put a name and face to who it belonged to.
but, i could bend the rules a little if i really wanted to.
yeah? let's see about that.
saturday, 4:45 am → 2:43:03 ongoing call with ellie (jackson, WY)
oh my god! did you and your ex get caught??
you were enamored with ellie. the way she could keep a conversation going and the stories she told — you didn't wanna hang up.
no, no, no, luckily we hid behind a dumpsters before the cops could catch us. it's hilarious thinking about it now, but we were dumbass 18-year-olds back then.
you both were in fits of laughter, your belly aching and tears watering in the corners of your eye.
as you calmed down, you couldn't stop your mouth from asking a question that's been racking on your mind.
so, how long were you and your ex together?
uhhhh, about 2 years.
ohhh okay........are you seeing anyone right now?
ellie lets out a laugh, and you can hear her smile, even through the phone.
why? who's asking?
well, i was just— uhh—
i'm just fuckin' with you. nah, i'm not seein' anyone right now. single af.
okay, okay. good to know.
how 'bout you?
nope. i'm single too.
seriously?? how?
i dunno. just never found the right person i guess. also, working for this hotline has made me lose hope for relationships in general, some of these dudes call me and say all this stuff — while having a whole wife and family at home.
i think you're looking in the wrong place then. try talking to people at school or going out to parties—
can't. if i'm not doing homework or studying, i'm working and doing this. i gotta make a living somehow.
ellie couldn't help but feel bad, knowing if she could, she'd support you full time and take that weight off your shoulders.
hmm, maybe you'll meet someone who could support you and take care of your bills and stuff.
oh? where would i find that? sounds too good to be true.
maybe they're closer to you than you think.
your breath hitched in your throat, unsure of what to say next.
i— uh— i have to go. it's 5am.
oh— uh— yeah. of course. goodnight, sugar.
goodnight, ellie.
sunday, 11:37pm → incoming call from ellie (jackson, WY)
hey.
hey. where's your usual greeting?
you're not a usual customer, so i think we're past that now, ellie.
ellie's heart thumped in her chest hearing you say her name.
good. anyways, what are you up to tonight?
just studying for a quiz tomorrow morning. how about you?
smoking, just finished some homework.
what class was it for?
uhhh, just this calculus class.
you clamped your mouth shut, suppressing a gasp. it was for professor adams class.
....uhhh, i could never get calculus. it's so hard.
yeah? maybe one night i can tutor you.
i'd be a terrible student.
i think you'd be the perfect student. i can teach you, i got you.
you couldn't help but think there was another meaning behind her words, but you didn't want to jump to any conclusions. it would be embarrassing if you got her message all wrong.
what's your quiz on anyways?
energy transfer between cells, it's for biology.
i know a thing or two about that. here— why don't we do this, just explain to me what you know and we'll go from there.
okay, i can do that.
you and ellie spent the next two and a half hours talking about cell function and energy transfer and everything else in between, with her correcting you and adding in important things you missed.
alright, sugar, i think you're ready for this quiz tomorrow.
you think so?
i know so. you're such a smart girl.
there she goes again, praising you.
uh, th-thanks.
don't worry, okay? i know you'll do great.
a smile curls on your lips, flustered from all her support.
you should get some sleep, so you can be focused and ready for tomorrow.
m'kay. thank you, ellie, for all your help.
of course. always. goodnight, sugar.
goodnight, ellie.
monday, 5:32pm → 45:21 ongoing call with mister j (corpus christi, TX)
yeah, babe? you want me to fuck your tight ass?
mhm, yes mister.
c'mon. beg, sugar.
please. fuck my tight hole, mister j.
ah, hell.
you can hear his belt buckle clanging, and the soft buzz of a zipper.
what's wrong with 'ya tonight, sugar? you're bein' a real buzzkill, 'ya know that? fuckin' turnin' me off and makin' me soft.
i-i'm sorry, mister j. please, jus—
yea, yea, save it. we'll jus' try 'gain tomorrow.
the line clicks on the other end. tossing your work phone on your desk, you fall back on your bed and stuff your face in your pillow. weeping into the plush material, you let yourself fall apart and break down.
but your sobbing session is cut short as you can hear the familiar ring of your work phone.
wiping your tears, you walk over to your desk and answer.
monday, 5:45pm → 00:32 ongoing call with ellie (jackson, WY)
thanks for calling 1-800-GIRLS, it's suga-
woah, woah, woah are you crying?
e-ellie?
yeah, baby, it's me. sounds like you're crying. what's going on? talk to me.
today was just a really, really bad day and then i opened my hotline a little early and one of my first clients just lashed out on me because i wasn't responding the way he wanted me to and—
you sniffle.
— and i'm just really stressed out by everything going on in my life right now.
i'm sorry. i wish there was something i could do— someway i could comfort you or take the weight off.
i-it's fine, ellie. talking to you is making it a little better.
ellie was silent for a moment, thinking carefully and planning her next moves accordingly.
do you trust me?
....y-yea, of c-course. why?
i'm gonna help you ease the tension. okay?
okay.
first of all, where are you?
i-in my room, sitting at my desk.
okay. go lay down on your bed.
with your phone pressed to your ear, you pick up your legs and stride over to your bed, laying down on the fluffy, material of your blanket.
okay, i'm on my bed.
good. what are you wearing?
foreseeing the direction this phone call was heading in, apprehension builds in your stomach.
ellie, you really don't have to-
hey, i want to help you. if that's okay with you. if not, we could talk about something instead.
biting your lip, you fold.
i-i'm okay with it, but i-i've never— played with myself with a customer before. i don't really do anything with myself even when i'm not working anyways.
that's okay. don't think of me as a customer, think of me as a...teacher. i got you, remember?
okay.
good girl. now, what are you wearing?
uh.. a tank top and shorts.
cute. take them off.
gulping, you follow her orders, shimmying out of your top and shorts.
done?
mhm.
good. so obedient.
i want you to rub your boobs for me. rub your nipples, pull on them, just feel the skin under your hand for me, baby.
rubbing the soft skin along your breast, and tugging on your hardened nipples, you bite your lip, savoring the way your body feels under your touch.
how does it feel?
feels good.
bet it does.
ellie couldn't stop her mind from imagining you, on your bed, perfectly naked. and how she'd give everything up, just to sneak a peek.
now, i want you to just rub your hands against the sensitive parts of your body. be slow and gentle, we're not rushing anything.
as your hands drift from your neck, down to the hills of your breasts, and to the edge of your panties, ellie speaks through the line again.
doesn't it feel nice, baby?
mhm.
wish i could be there, to watch you, touching your pussy.
you instinctively clamp your thighs, feeling heat rush to your core.
alright, take your panties off. slowly.
you slowly peel the piece of material off, looking at the small, wet spot that formulated on your underwear.
okay, they're off.
such a good girl, following my every command.
you gulp, her nickname for you sending shivers up your spine.
slowly feel the skin on your legs. stroke your inner thighs, tease yourself a little.
hanging off on her every word, you let out a shaky breath, the heat in your cunt growing only bigger and bigger.
god, i wish i can be there to see this right now. bet you look so good, thighs spread apart, pussy all wet— all because of me.
i- i'm aching. i need more, ellie.
i know, baby, i know. i wish i can help you more. if it were up to me, i'd have you bent over your desk, taking you from the back. fuck.
your mind drifts to that image, of her fucking you, taking you as hers. a stream of your slick begins to leak out from your pussy. god, you wanted her so bad.
slide a finger between your pussy, baby. let me hear how wet you are.
spreading your thighs apart, the tip of your fingers slips in between the folds of your pussy lips, the slick sound of your wetness echoing throughout the room. loud enough for ellie to hear.
fuuuuuck.
i-
you tried to speak, but it comes out sounding like a pathetic whimper. ellie's brain was going insane, she couldn't believe where she had you, writhing from her mere words.
go ahead, pretty girl. rub slow circles on your clit.
the pads of your pointer and middle finger gently rub steady, figure 8's against your hardened nub. closing your eyes, you imagined ellie, and how it was her hand instead of yours. the thought had you panting, faint breaths releasing from your parted lips.
your pussy sounds so wet, holy shit. you sound so fucking good for me. so fucking perfect.
as your fingers continue massaging on your sopping, wet clit, a pool of wetness gathers right below your ass.
how does it feel, baby?
f-feels amazing, ellie.
you let out a low whimper.
i wish you were here.
me too, pup. me too.
you can hear her heavy breaths from the other end of the phone.
i wish i could be there, kissing your neck. trailing my lips down to suck on your nipples. fuuck, wanna taste every inch of your skin. i wanna feel your pussy tighten around my fingers.
you let out another pitiful moan, only to hear ellie curse under her breath again.
rub your pussy faster for me, angel. imagine it's me, pumping my fingers in and out. would daddy's pretty girl like that?
you couldn't respond. all you could let out was these weak whines, yearning for ellie and her touch. you added a third finger, building onto the pressure and picking up the speed.
your moans sound so pretty. wonder how'd they sound when you're taking my strap. gonna have you cry out my name, yeah? isn't that right?
mhm, yes, daddy.
good. that's what daddy likes to hear, such a polite girl.
with your eyes rolling back, you could feel your orgasm building.
i-i'm gonna— ellie, i—
you gonna cum for me, puppy? huh? c'mon, rub faster, baby. i know you have a little bit more left in you.
your fingers speed up, the sound of your wetness gushing out reverberated in ellie's ear.
oh my god, daddy can i? please? can i—
arching your back, you knew you were close. the feeling was getting to be too much and you were about to fall over the edge.
look at my baby, so respectful and asking permission. come on, pretty puppy. cum for daddy. let daddy hear how good she made you feel.
that was it. letting out a penetrating moan, you rode your orgasm out and finished all over your fingers, making a mess. you were heaving, chest rapidly rising and falling.
god, i made a mess.
oh, yeah? do one more thing for me. suck your fingers clean. puppies clean up their messes.
monday, 8:57pm → 3:01:32 ongoing call with ellie (jackson, WY)
after your little self-care session with ellie, she took it upon herself to get your mind off of today's events, filling your conversation with stories and interesting topics.
oh, forgot to ask, what'd you end up getting on that biology quiz?
ughhh, i got a 65 out of 100. one of the reasons why i was so upset today.
seriously? how?
i don't know! i asked professor gonzalez and she told me that i was focusing on the wrong thi-
wait, did you just say professor gonzalez? holy shit, you're taking biology 201 with professor g? do you fucking go to school at university of wyoming? in jackson?
oh shit, you didn't mean for that to slip out.
i— uh— i have to go—
wait! sugar! please. hear me out.
you stay silent, waiting for what she had to say.
if we really do go to the same campus, please, let's meet up. i really want to see you.
.....why?
i just— i love talking to you. spending hours with you on the phone is what i look forward to when i get home. besides, i really want to take you out, on a date.
you bit your lip, unsure of what to say.
listen, if you want to see me too, meet me at the library in building B, by the comic book section. okay? tomorrow at 1pm.
....
i really hope you come.
the line clicks off, and you spend the rest of the night restless, tossing and turning, debating whether or not to see her tomorrow.
tuesday, 2:50pm
ellie eagerly checked her phone again, bouncing her knee in distress. her mind was running rampant — fuck, she's not gonna come. maybe jesse was right. maybe i was wasting my time.
looking up for the 80th time, she scans the comic book section, seeing no one else but some dude with his face buried in a wonder woman comic.
as ellie gets up from her chair, she turns her head, and she freezes.
there you were, looking like an angel who entered from the garden of eden. ellie's heart sped up, seeing her girl standing before her. you were everything she could've imagined and better.
walking slowly towards the brunette, you brush a piece of hair from your face, and smile meekly.
"hi ellie, it's me."
pls let me know how this fic was, i tried out a new writing style & read pt 2 here <3
3K notes · View notes
ystrike1 · 3 months
Text
MY SWEET BUNNY CAGE - By Uruu akua (8.5/10)
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I think more popular ASMR CD's should get comic releases. Specifically high quality comic releases. Sometimes yandere comics aren't worth buying, and that's the awful truth. Awkward art styles. Bad endings. The genre is still full of "passable" content. This is the whole package. A good CD and a good comic with great art. Very worth collecting.
Our heroine is a spunky brat. A petite woman that doesn't get taken seriously at work. Everybody dotes on her, because she looks so young. She's frustrated by it. She hates it. She's a fully grown adult with a good career. She thinks her kindly coworkers are very annoying.
They tell her she shouldn't walk alone at night, because she's an obvious target for pervs.
She doesn't listen.
She argues with a weird guy that seems drunk, or even mentally ill, confidently.
She can take care of herself.
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She wakes up in a degrading, frilly outfit. Her room looks like a castle fit for a princess. Her hair has been expertly done and her handcuffs are frilly lace bands.
The weirdo from before has kidnapped her.
She doesn't know him.
He's not secretly her childhood friend.
He's nuts.
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She protests pretty hard. Crazy guy is rude, presumptuous, handsome....and unbothered. He seems to think he's above the law. Possibly because he's rich. Custom BDSM gear is expensive. The crystal chandeliers everywhere are a dead giveaway too.
He's not crazy and stupid.
He has a plan.
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He tries to explain. She looks like his old pet. That's why he took her. He totally didn't plan ahead. Ignore the tailored outfits. He's totally not using the rabbit thing as an excuse to take her specifically. He totally didn't wait until she was alone at night. He doesn’t exactly hide it. The rabbit excuse is full of creepy layers. In his twisted head it somehow justifies his stalking and the kidnapping, and his overall ownership of her.
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Her catty attitude makes him fall even further. It kind of saves her, I think. Before he wasn't interested in her real name. He was just going to give her his rabbits name. When she lashes out at him he asks for her real name, which could indicate that he started following her purely because she is his type looks wise.
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She continues to resist, so he cuts up her cards. He takes her phone. He destroys her things in front of her. He doesn’t care if she's bored. He wants his new pet to wait for him. To like his company....because life is boring and theres nothing else to do.
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Gags, ropes, chains, threats. Kesedo isn't gentle all the time. Rabbit is convinced that he will kill her if she doesn't cooperate.
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He just wants affection though. Really bad. He tries to buy her love with sweetness just as often. His logic is very twisted, but again I like his arrogance. He behaves as if winning is natural for him, and Rabbit is just throwing a tantrum because she's hungry.
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She attacks.
He likes that too.
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His character design is fun as well. This is in a modern setting. His frilly sense of style actually indicates he's a fan of Lolita fashion and cute things. It's not JUST a standard prince outfit. It's a preference.
Also, this story is getting an extension, and I trust it will get better.
657 notes · View notes
arminsumi · 8 months
Text
Scary Movie Night
G. Satoru — さとる ⋅ fem reader
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🔞 mdni / nsfw / smutty
NOTE : i have no idea, i just wrote and wrote and then a 4k fic came out. i was supposed to be watching scream and totally got sidetracked with this daydream of watching a horror movie with stsg and then you and gojo just start making out when he leaves 🥴
SUMMARY — the three of you planned to watch horror movies all night, but instead you started making out with Satoru on the couch after a long tension built up between you.
WARNINGS — not proofread pls ignore errors, cheesy, spicy make out, dry humping, smutty, sexual tension, heavy flirting and teasing, something between u and Suguru 🤭, lighthearted jealousy, nicknames (sweetheart, baby, princess etc), gojo is so bratty, kinda sub!gojo stuff but he's also a bit dom??, lap straddling, Suguru walks in on you two
WORDCOUNT — 4k
🍒 — J ⋅ reblogs and comments help a lot ! enjoy reading :)
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"AAA ~ !! "
And the first character of the movie dies, of course, you already knew that because Satoru so kindly spoiled it minutes earlier.
"Seriously? I could scream more convincingly than that."
"I need proof." Suguru jokes teasingly, arm draping sultrily over the couch riiight around your shoulders. He stuffs some caramelized popcorn in his mouth. How can he make even the act of eating popcorn look so sultry and attractive?
"Shut up." you shake your head and smile. "This movie's so cheesy, which one of you picked it out again?"
"Satoru."
"Hey! Cheesy isn't bad. And besides, the killer's a hottie."
You chuckle with Suguru. "So we're watching horror movies because the killer is hot?"
Satoru shrugs like it's obvious, scooting closer to you as inconspicuously as he can. But he's not smooth like Suguru; you notice the increased proximity and roll your eyes.
"Yeah, why else would you watch a horror film?" Satoru says.
Suguru responds, "Ah... maybe because you want to get scared?"
"Eh!" Satoru waves his hand dismissively.
You decide to tease him a bit just to get a reaction out of him. He's so easy to tease. "I get it. Satoru's too scared to watch something that's actually scary."
He glares at you immediately. You laugh, Suguru stifles his laugh and habitually rubs his index finger back and forth across his upper lip. (And he even manages to make that attractive.)
"I'm not scared of anything! I can watch any horror movie, no problem." Satoru boasts.
"Okay, big boy, let's put in something that's actually scary." Suguru teases.
"Ooh, how about the Grudge?" You suggest.
"Nah, too scary for me." Suguru admits.
"Can't handle a real scary movie, huh big boy?" Satoru mocks spitefully.
Suguru looks over at him and raises his brows very high. There's a tension between them, but then it breaks when Suguru decides to swap out the movies. The cheesy one is tossed, and hello the Grudge; you're nervously fidgeting and curling up in anticipation when the intro starts rolling.
"Be right back, getting refills. Satoru don't eat too many sweets you're gonna go into a sugar coma." Suguru sighs right after he says that, because the white-haired menace shovels a handful of sweets into his mouth and chews.
And he chews as loudly as possible right next to your ear. Chew chew chew.
"Satoru, I swear to god."
He giggles mischievously, stealing a sideways glance at you.
Why does she look so good tonight? This isn't fair.
The movie's starting, Suguru's trying not to make too much noise as he rifles around in the kitchen for refills. Such a sweetheart, he's refilling your drink without you even needing to ask.
Before his best friend can reassume that suggestive arm-draped-over-the-couch-but-really-over-your-shoulders position, Satoru does it; you feel the warmth and slight plush press of his toned arm against the back of your head.
Suguru doesn't think much of it and just sits back down normally. Though you do feel a bit sandwiched between them. But that's not uncommon in your friendship; they've been sandwiching you between them since highschool.
Satoru audibly swallows, but covers it up by making obnoxiously loud noises; shifting his legs, tucking them, untucking them, putting them over your lap and cheekily smiling until you scowl and push his legs off and then he pouts. He pouts so genuinely that you apologetically allow him to put his thigh over yours, just how he likes to do when the both of you are sitting side-by-side.
The movie's rolling. All three of you have your eyes glued to the screen. Satoru can feel you start to scrunch your shoulders up, so he teases (and talks during the movie, like he always does).
"You gettin' scared, princess?" he smirks. "Should I hold you — "
"SHHH!!" you and Suguru hush him in sync.
Satoru rolls his eyes and shuts up, but only for a little while. Then he pipes up again.
"Man, this isn't even scary, we should put something else in — "
"SHHH!!"
He shuts up. And then, the funniest thing happens.
Satoru starts getting scared. Suguru notices it, but you don't; and it makes him quietly smirk. He would never expose his friend like that right in front of his crush, though. So he doesn't tease and just casually watches the movie, completely immune to the horrors.
You can feel Satoru tensing up, but then as if he notices you noticing, he relaxes his muscles. Then he clears his throat loudly.
"SHHH!!"
"Sorry! Jesus I can't even clear my throat? Bleh."
"Satoru, quiet."
He pouts. Now it's silent again, except for the movie playing and the rain beginning to hit the window softly. The room is dimly lit, and the atmosphere isn't eerie but horror movies always change that.
It's raining, raining, raining, the movie is playing, the three of you are sinking into the couch, invested.
Then there's a small, sudden thunder crack and it makes Satoru jolt like a cat.
"Haha." Suguru stifles his laugh.
Satoru pokes hard at his cheek. "Shut up."
You tease, "Gettin' scared, princess?" you mimic mockingly.
"Yeah right! I can feel you trembling besides me." Satoru grumbles, unexpectedly defensive.
"Oh yeah. I'm just so terrified. Hug me, Satoru, I'm scared." you joke sarcastically. But sarcastic or not, his heart lurches.
You don't notice until you're halfway through the movie, but Satoru was the one trembling; very subtly. You can even feel the thighs of his muscle tensing up — he's still resting his leg on top of your thigh, unmoving. Why would he move? He's comforted by your body warmth. He needs that right now.
There's another thunder crack, and it makes both you and Satoru jump this time.
"Haha. Wimps." Suguru laughs, playfully mocking the both of you.
"Ah shut up!" you furrow your brows.
"Y/n, if you're scared you can cuddle m — "
" — meee, you can cuddle me, baby." Satoru interrupts Suguru, resulting in a funny side-eye moment between the two of them. Suguru shakes his head.
Satoru's scooting even closer, pressing his body against yours. Side by side. Warm. Firm and soft. Basically cuddling. You're sure you couldn't be any closer, but then Satoru manages to become even closer.
Your words echo in his head and for some reason, get him feeling hot beneath the hem of his pajama pants.
Hug me, Satoru, I'm scared.
Seriously? Did you realize how hot you were? How dare you say something like that?
He craves more intimacy with you. And he's no stranger to just randomly rearranging your body or playing with it, he's always been touchy since high school. Like a cat, he only gets physical and comfortable with calm people like you and Suguru.
So he takes his thigh off your thigh, right? And then two big hands grab your thighs, press them together and put them right over his lap.
"What the hell...?" you laugh under your breath.
"Isn't this comfier?" Satoru murmurs sensually, lips grazing your cheek.
"Augh, get a room you two. Gonna make me nauseous." Suguru grimaces.
"You're just jealous!" Satoru giggles, trying his best to not look at the TV screen.
"SHUT... up and watch the movie. Your talking is distracting me." Suguru complains.
"Ughhh, but it's so boring I don't even wanna — " he pulls up the blanket over yours and his head. " — watch it anymore. Oh hey, this is intimate, isn't it? Hehe."
"Satoru! I wanna see the movie!"
"No you don't, you're scared shitless."
Suguru's just sitting to your left, shaking his head as he listens to you two flirt under the blanket as if it magically enclosed you into a space away from the world.
"I can hear you two." he grumbles. "If you're gonna make out, at least do it quietly."
"We're not making out!" you squeal embarrassedly, even though Suguru was clearly joking. There was no sign of making out happening under that blanket.
"...yet." Satoru winks, but you miss it because it's so dark now with the blanket draped over the two of you.
You can almost feel him blinking at you. Even if it's dark and impossible to see you, Satoru will still try to; he's just always been like that, ever since you first met him. In fact, on the first day you met him, he wouldn't stop staring at you, as if he was captivated or fixated on some aspect of your face or behavior. Completely spellbound, starstruck, heart-eyed...
Suguru excuses himself to the bathroom so you two can have your little moment.
You ripple the blanket off your head to look at him as he leaves. "Bring back those pretzel snacks."
"M'kay, angel." Suguru hums.
"Thanks, my boy."
Satoru looks at you very dramatically.
"What?"
"What the hell? I'm right here! You know I'm the one who's had a crush on you all these years, not him! RIGHT SUGURU?"
There's a hesitation, then Suguru confirms from the bathroom even though he didn't hear a damn thing. He just agreed because it's his best friend asking for a confirmation.
"YUP THAT'S RIGHT."
"See! What, why are you laughing?" Satoru starts to smile because you're starting to break down into laughter.
He's facing you now. And it makes the both of you aware of just how much bigger he is, and how much smaller you are. Daddy long legs aside, he's just bigger than you; the broadness of his shoulders, the size of his hands — even his ears, which he remembers you used to tease him about in high school. He's got those cute ears that poke out a bit.
"Satoru..." you murmur against his face.
His heart pangs. "Huh?" he's so caught off guard, expecting you to lean in for a kiss. So he surreptitiously wets his lips with a swift swipe of his tongue.
"...you know, I'm sorry for always teasing you about your ears in high school. Looking at them now, they're really cute." you admit, hand coming up to caress his ear; fingers just grazing his sharp undercut.
His stomach knots up, and he goes silent, too stunned to respond. "Oh... thanks..."
You're side-eyeing the movie for a moment, and poor you; it's at just the right moment for a terrible jumpscare.
You reactively grab for Satoru's shirt and arm, squeezing tight and nearly yelping because you were caught so off-guard. Your heart is racing and so is his; but not because of the movie.
"I hate this film!" you whine into his chest, and he thinks he's in heaven right then. Is his crush really holding onto him during a scary movie? Um, hell to the yes. This is his dream. This is exactly what he wanted out of this experience, as cheesy as it is, he doesn't care that it's cheesy in fact he likes that it's cheesy.
"Tell me about it..." he huffs under his breath, and it fans your face and he can feel it come back to him. That excites him so much.
"And it's all your fault we're watching it, 'cuz you had to show off your 'manliness' or whatever! So Stupid!"
"Yeah, but, it got you in my arms, so it wasn't such a bad idea." he flirts with a slight nervous shake in his voice.
"Huh?" you look into his eyes. Ooh boy, he's holding it in. He's refraining. He's tying his hands behind his back, metaphorically; but not for long...
"What? I've got a pretty girl clinging to me 'cuz she's scared of a horror movie. And it's a rainy night. Bonus points." he smirks.
"Oh shut up... stop flirting with me or I'll — "
" — you like it, don't you? Being this close?"
You look at him in surprise. Where did that serious tone come from? It's laced with something sexual that just raises the excitement in the air between you and him. He's on edge. He has to kiss you. He's thinking about it so hard that he's sure he'll just snap at any moment.
"Y-yeah..." you admit.
You're suddenly so conscious of the closeness. The slight press of his biceps as his arms ensnare you, how you're practically sitting on top of him — when did that happen? His breath smells like the sweets he's been snacking on all night.
His breath fans your face and now he's really thinking about it as he stares at your lips.
"You sooo wanna kiss me." he cheekily teases you.
"Ew, cheesy." you cringe at him. You playfully shield yourself by putting your hand over his lips. His pretty nose peaks over the edge of your palm.
When you cover half his face like this, you realize just how striking his eyes are. Even in the dim light, they're capable of holding your whole attention. The movie is just another background noise.
"Mmf."
"What was that, loser? Can't hear what you're saying. Speak up." you tease.
"Mmf mm-hmmf-hmf? hmf hmf." it sounds like he's offended, and then he's snatching your hand away and climbing on top of you.
He's soaking up your every giggle. And underneath his playfulness, he's trying to show off his strength. Not like you notice, you're just enjoying it; being pinned under him like you're the tiniest thing on the planet to him.
Now he lifts his hips away from you, so you don't feel how hard he's getting. He can feel himself throbbing in his pajama pants. Such cute pants for the fact he's got a big cock underneath them
There's very little space to think when he's so chokingly close to you. His scent pervades your senses. His whole essence invades your space. It's just Satoru Satoru Satoru, nothing else is in your head. And for him, it's just you you you, nothing else is in his head, either.
His eyes roam up and down your body in one small moment, it excites his fantasies. Now he's wondering not just about what your lips taste and feel like, but also about what your body tastes and feels like; he knows one thing's for sure, and that's your softness. He's hugged you like he's trying to crush your bones in the past, and muttered praises about how impossibly soft your little body is in his.
"See that?" he murmurs, blurting out his thoughts without thinking, "Our bodies fit together perfectly. 'sure our lips would, too."
"Wow... where did that come from... you just gave me butterflies, Satoru." you chuckle nervously against his lips.
He's so tempted. He's right on the edge. Why's he holding back? He's forgotten by now.
"Good..." he mutters suggestively against your lips, eyes beginning to become lidded with sultriness as he leans in for a kiss.
And oh wow... that's a kiss he won't forget for the rest of his life. It's soft. He melts against you like butter in the sun. He was so right; your bodies fit together perfectly, and so do your lips.
" 'Toru..." you mumble his sweet nickname into his mouth and it nearly makes him moan, but he holds it in and kisses you like a gentle boy.
He's trying so hard to mask his horniness, but it's showing through; he's starting to shake from how bad he wants you. This kiss is enough until it's not; and then he turns up the heat. His lips glide over yours, wet sounds fill the room and the horror movie keeps playing in the background.
Kiss kiss kiss. He's kissing you like he's scared he'll never be able to after this moment, like this is the only time he'll have the courage to kiss you. And that courage and confidence falters mid-kiss, because he wonders worryingly if you crave him as badly as he craves you.
"Don't pull away... " you mutter against his saliva-wettened lips.
He breathes excitedly, eyes lighting up at your words. "Nah, if you want more kisses... 'gonna have to come get 'em." he pulls back, and you immediately miss the feeling of his torso pressing against yours.
"Teasing bitch, damn!" you complain, "Come back — kiss me more — oh you're so annoying!"
He giggles, lips feeling tingly. His heart is beating so hard he can feel it all over his chest and cheeks. And those poor cheeks. He hasn't blushed this boyishly since the last time you gave him a kiss on the forehead.
"Come get your kisses ~ " he teases, beckoning you with his finger. Oh you hate when his confidence swells so suddenly like this, he becomes a menace. Well... 'hate'. You love it. He knows it. That's why he does it.
"Don't wink at me, you freak..." you crawl on top of his lap, and he didn't expect that even though he should have.
So now your face drops in surprise and amusement. "Oh... oh. Getting a lil' excited, big boy?"
A noise comes out of him, his face stuck with this embarrassed smiling expression. "Uh... uhah. Haha. A little bit? Shit don't blame me, you're fucking hot."
"Mmm, am I?" you lean close, lips grazing across his lips, eyes staring into his eyes. He feels electrified.
"Wow... uh..."
"Speechless, 'Toru? That's so unlike you." you tease him in such a low voice that he leaks a little precum. And you can feel it.
"W-wow... what... no... I'm not... holy shit... haha..." and then he laughs it off, nervously placing his hands on your hips. "D-don't straddle me like this, you'll make it worse."
"I'll make what worse?" you tease dirtily.
You give him so many butterflies right then that he starts feeling a bit lightheaded.
"My... uh... nothing..."
"...your? Continue. What were you gonna say? Now you've got my attention and we're all alone..." you keep teasing and it keeps making his heart flutter.
Wow. Call me lucky. She's straddling my fucking lap and teasing me? Am I dreaming?
"Wow... you're so speechless." you chuckle.
"Fuck off... what d'you expect... you're the one sitting on my dick..."
"... oh, sorry." you mutter a teasing apology and begin to move away, but his hands grip tightly and refuse to let you go.
"Stay."
"Ooh, now you're dom? Really thought you were sub for a second there." you cheek.
"Cheeky bitch..." he mutters before crashing his lips haphazardly against yours.
And surprisingly, the second kiss feels better than the first. It's electric. Your bodies are on fire and all the two of you are really thinking about is taking this to the bedroom.
Subconsciously grinding on his lap, feeling the outline of his cock, even feeling the wetness a bit as his tip digs between your thighs. You're starting to feel lightheaded now, too, with how he's kissing you.
"Trynna... t-turn me on or something...?" you giggle into his mouth.
His big hands come to cup your cheeks, trusting that those hips won't attempt to move off his lap again.
"... yeah..." he breaths heavily, looking at you so deeply that you feel like he's staring into your soul.
The moment is so hot and steamy that you feel like there's visible heat clouds hanging over the two of you. But then the moment is interrupted —
"Are you guys done making out — OH HAHA WERE YOU ACTUALLY MAKING OUT? I was just kidding — WHAT THE FUCK WHY ARE YOU GUYS ON TOP OF EACH OTHER! THIS IS HORROR FILM NIGHT NOT PORN NIGHT!" Suguru starts laughing, clutching his stomach.
"Party pooper!" Satoru frowns over at him from underneath you. You're mortified and laughing like a seal, slowly getting off Satoru's lap which makes him whine.
"What the hell! That's funny, were you two seriously fucking in front of a horror movie. Satoru, that's not classy at all."
"Shut! Up!" You throw a pillow at him, and he comes over to throw a snack packet at you, cheekily smiling. "We were not fucking!"
"Sooo... just dry humping?" Suguru teases.
"SHUT UP!" you and Satoru yell in unison, both completely embarrassed. Suguru laughs so hard that his cheeks hurt.
"And anyways, take this damn movie out, it's creepy! I'm not gonna sleep tonight..."
"...aw, big baby's scared of horror films after all. I knew you were bluffing. Y/n, will you sleep with my best friend tonight? I think otherwise he'll be sucking his thumb and not getting any rest."
"Oh you're sooo dead, come here." Satoru glares playfully at him and climbs over you to get to Suguru.
And the boys start playfighting, and you shake your head and get up to take the movie out yourself.
"I'm getting my own apartment one day, I swear. Living with you two is a nightm-AAAAHH!!' you whine, seeing the creepiest thing yet on the TV.
They laugh at you together, and it reminds you of high school so much at you feel a wave of nostalgia.
"No more scary movies!" you declare. "Never again!"
"Aw, but they brought you and Satoru closer together. I think next time you guys are too shy to kiss or fuck, just put in a horror film and it'll get the atmosphere right."
"Suguru, be careful what you say. Remember you don't pay rent."
Satoru cackles. "That's right!"
"Wow, what the hell... I'm never letting you borrow another hoodie." he retorts, purposefully bringing up the hoodie thing just to catch you and Satoru off-guard.
"WHAT! You what?! What??" Satoru is in between being playfully jealous and genuinely jealous.
"Suguru!" you cover your face out of embarrassment. You feel lightheaded from all the butterflies that the both of them cause in you.
"I didn't say anything." Suguru acts nonchalant, tearing into the snacks that were supposed to be for you.
"You! Gave her! Your hoodies!? This isn't gonna be a polyamorous thing, I'm possessive you know that!" Satoru's playfully battering his friend and his friend isn't reacting to it, which makes it all the more amusing. He's just languidly chewing on snacks.
"She asked for them." Suguru exposes.
Satoru stops and looks at you like he's been betrayed.
"Suguru!" You squeal, "Nono, Satoru he's lying — "
"YOU CAN HAVE MY HOODIES, WHY WOULD YOU WANT HIS!!" Satoru's getting louder and funnier by the minute.
"I'm sorry I didn't know I could ask for your hoodies." you blabber.
Suguru's watching you and Satoru like you're a comedy show, dusting the sugar coating of the candy off on his pajama pants.
"Of course you can have my fucking hoodies you idiot! I'll give you this one right now, damn it!" Satoru says.
"STOP TAKING YOUR SHIRT OFF — " you cover your eyes.
Suguru laughs, "As if you weren't planning to take it off earlier?"
"Exactly! Here, take it." a shirtless Satoru is shoving his red hoodie onto you.
"You two are ridiculous. I'm going to bed."
"TAKE MY HOODIE."
"NO."
"SO YOU'LL RUB YOUR COOCHIE ON ME BUT NOT WEAR MY HOODIE?"
"HAHAHA WHAT?"
"SATORU!! I'M GONNA KILL YOU!!"
Suguru's caving in with laughter after Satoru says that. His laughs always become soundless after a while, it's the cutest thing. His whole face is stressed into amusement.
"You love me!" Satoru's darting behind the couch for protection.
"You're so dead!"
"You're turning me on with this serial killer role you're playing right now!"
"GOJO SATORU!"
Suguru looks at Satoru, "Oh no, sh-she government named you, boy. Better run." he speaks through his laughter.
"I haven't done anything!"
"YOU SHIRTLESS FREAK, YOU EMBARRASSED ME IN FRONT OF THE ONE PERSON I WANNA BE COOL IN FRONT OF!"
"Aw." Suguru blushes for you a bit, "Cute."
Satoru stops, looks between you two, and gets riled up again. "What the hell!"
"I didn't mean it like that!"
And it goes on and on like that, until the three of you are too tired to keep laughing; and you're collapsing tiredly on the bed with Satoru after chasing him there. He said a lot of embarrassing things, but you got him back for each one.
You catch your breaths, and Satoru looks over at you, suggestively wiggling his brows.
"You scared from the movie? Need a big strong man to hug you 'n kiss you?"
"Satoru, kindly shut the fuck up."
"Wow, is Nanami rubbing off on you? You sound like him."
"You're a menace."
"My dick's a menace, too."
"Hahah, yeah right."
"I'm serious!"
You giggle, looking at him enticingly, "Then, wanna prove it to me?" you say just barely above a whisper.
Satoru's face gets hot, and what do you know he's already got a tent forming in his pajama pants.
"Yeah... come here. I'll show you."
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lobotomyladylives · 7 months
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Actresses being tortured on the set by male directors is a massive historical and present day scourge of the film and TV industries and it's really SO common when you look into it. like from Kubrick terrorizing Shelley Duvall (and only her) on the set of the shining to Tarantino strangling Diane Kruger until she passed out to Hitchcock replacing fake birds with real birds after Tippi Hedren rejected his advances (in order to scare and physically injure her as a punishment for not fucking him) to James Cameron almost literally drowning Kate Winslet to an actress on GOT being waterboarded ten hrs straight to get like a minute of footage to Brando improvising an unscripted rape scene on the last tango in Paris set with the directors permission that ended up traumatizing Maria Schneider (in fact quite a lot of the gratuitous, graphic rape scenes in film were included for the sadistic pleasure of the male directors at the expense of the actresses).
The list goes on and on and I could seriously talk for ages about how revolting it is that these men still have active careers bc the industry just tolerates it. No piece of art is worth inflicting this disgusting and unnecessary abuse on actresses (and it's ALWAYS the actresses isn't it, never the actors. Hmmm wonder why). We call these men auteurs and geniuses but they're really just pathetic abusive sacks of shit. I want to impale every male director who behaves like this and I want their rotting corpses displayed as a part of the universal studios tour.
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