#° 𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔰𝔢 ; ✞ famous.
❝ i've missed your voice. ❞
❝ hey, big guy ... ❞ words spoken through a breath of relief as she closes the book she's been reading to him the last few hours. both hands take one of his, encapsulating and comforting as she gives it a small squeeze and presses the back of it to her cheek. there are tears in her eyes, lips pulling into a smile with the knowledge that he's awake and coherent. thumbs brush over his knuckles, attempting to keep herself from showing any form of weakness. this isn't about her. she's not the one who's in the hospital bed, not the one who found herself nearly losing her life behind the wheel.
swiftly, she wipes at her eyes with her sleeve, hiding any attempt at making it about anyone but thor. what he needs. what he's feeling. she rests her chin on his hand, keeping her attention on his face, ❝ you're awake. ❞ as if saying the words out loud would help make it more real, breathing life into the fact that he hasn't been taken from this world. taken from her.
a part of her hopes that odin doesn't notice, that he remains just outside the room on the phone handling what sawyer can only assume is damage control. it's selfish, to wish a father not to see his son and have that relief for himself, but she can't help but indulge in the quiet between the two of them; especially when all odin has shown towards her is animosity and disapproval. it helps that she knows this isn't the first time thor has opened his eyes since he's been admitted.
there's no way to hide the way she sniffles, swallowing the rest of her tears as she leans closer, ❝ i brought you, uh — ❞ she clears her throat, ❝ i brought you those lemon squares you like. made 'em from scratch. i tried to find those chips too but they were sold out. i'd go out and look but i don't think your dad would let me back in if i left. ❞ she realizes she's rambling and stops herself, closing her eyes briefly before opening them, lips pursing as a sob threatens to escape. instead, she speaks with a voice clearly strained by trying to keep it all together, ❝ i'm so happy you're awake. ❞
@othunderous | 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐢 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝('𝐧𝐭) 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 | accepting.
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PROMPTS FOR YEARNING, LOTS OF YEARNING… // ACCEPTING .
—— 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐰𝐲𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐦, a hideout the two of them made all their own throughout their childhood; a sanctuary, tucked away from the pompous events that his parents hosted rather frequently. it's quiet, holding a small corner of the earth that is all their own. she's sure not even giselle has even seen this sacred place; maybe sawyer shouldn't feel smug about that, yet the feeling remains as a lingering blemish in her being, a vice she's struggled with all her life. but it's not about her, not right now. there's a reason she's sought arlo out, a reason she treks through the acreage on the thompson estate to the small cottage quarters at the back of the lot. it's a little decrepit, but it's been a while since the two of them spent any time sprucing it up like they used to every summer.
there are lights on inside and sawyer finds it amusing that the thompsons still paid for the electricity ( or maybe they just don't notice where that money goes ). pulling the door open, obvious footsteps make their way through the threshold and towards the figure that's sat itself on the couch. he doesn't even need to look to know it's her, she's sure, and thus takes a seat at his side in silence. their extensive text conversation prior to her search for him tells her to simply sit and listen; that is, if he even wants to talk about it.
@pnkb1tch : ❛ how am i supposed to do this without you? i can't. ❜
faux offense etches into her features as she lets her attention fall on him, hands clasped in her lap as her head tilts and her chin lifts up to morph her lips to purse, ❛ well . . . the good news — ❜ she leans towards him, shoulders lifting as her eyes shift their attention up and off to the side of the ceiling. not a moment after does she relax her shoulders and her eyes find his face. she's fully leaning against him now, shoulder to shoulder as her hand reaches out to rest on his thigh, patting it a few times, ❛ is that y'don't have to. ❜ her tone is low, still holding a sense of teasing within it as her lips pull into a soft grin.
there's nothing she wants more than to reassure him, having seen the way the tabloids have tried to spin the story of his newly ended relationship. it's ruthless, demeaning and brutal how they talk about him and giselle, sawyer feeling fiercly protective of both parties involved, but arlo taking priority always, ❛ i'm right here, okay? ❜
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@firststa6 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐀𝐍 𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. | ᴀᴄᴄᴇᴘᴛɪɴɢ.
good god. who could possibly be knocking so incessantly at this hour? sawyer lets out a groan, even going so far as to pull a pillow up and over her head to try and drown out the sound. she doesn't want to put on a face, doesn't want to make an effort for whoever is on the other side of the door, especially when they're the one interrupting her brooding hour.
eventually, she pulls the covers from herself, dressed in nothing but an oversized shirt from him, as if the smell of him isn't the only thing that lets her sleep soundly anymore. running a hand through her long, dark waves, she pushes it to one side as she sleepily marches her way down the stairs. perhaps it's foolish for her to be so nonchalant about the whole idea of someone practically banging down her door, but sawyer finds herself almost too apathetic to care.
once she reaches the door, she looks to the ipad monitor mounted just beside the front door, ring camera pointed towards an obviously intoxicated frank pounding his fist against the wood of the door.
a heavy sigh leaves her, though it's mostly out of sadness than anything, as she pulls the door open and peers up at him with betrayal still singed into her gaze, ❝ frank. you can't be here. ❞
❝ i know i shouldn't, but i want to see you. ❞
he interrupts her and all sawyer can do is close her eyes and turn her head away in an attempt to keep him from seeing the way she wants nothing more than to break down and give in to what she thought she wanted. she draws in a deep breath, folding her arms across her chest as she eyes the way his muscles and limbs seem far too loose in his skin, ❝ you're drunk, baby. call an uber home. ❞ she tries to stay civil, cordial even, knowing that in this state there's not much use in trying to argue.
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@austerulous gets a makeup starter!
—— ✞ ; 𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗥𝗘'𝗦 𝗔 𝗟𝗢𝗢𝗞 𝗢𝗙 𝗔𝗗����𝗥𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡 𝗢𝗡 𝗦𝗔𝗪𝗬𝗘𝗥'𝗦 𝗙𝗔𝗖𝗘, one purposefully reserved for the woman who sits in front of her. odessa isn't 𝗮 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿 to makeup, sawyer knows that much, and she even does it in a way that the younger woman admires. however, she knows dez in a way not many others do, 𝗯𝗮𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲𝗱 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗹𝗮𝗰𝗲𝗱 𝗶𝗻 𝘀𝗹𝗲𝗲𝗽. sawyer adores it, the nature features that her girlfriend has; strong cheekbones and piercing eyes that always seem to 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝘀𝗮𝘄𝘆𝗲𝗿'𝘀 𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗵 𝗮𝘄𝗮𝘆 should they ever meet too suddenly. it's the pulled back, soft glam that she works on now, only enhancing odessa's features to their 𝗳𝘂𝗹𝗹 𝗽𝗼𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗮𝗹 rather than lining eyes with charcoal and covering up certain areas that dez herself have claimed in the past to be imperfections.
❛ you're more beautiful than you give yourself credit for, y'know. ❜ it's affirmative, with 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝗼𝗽𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝘂𝗻𝗶𝘁𝘆 for odessa to correct or deflect; there's nothing but truth in her tone. gently, sawyer brushes some powder over her girlfriend's face, 𝘀𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗳𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 in place as her lips pull into a bright smile, ❛ i hope this kinda lets you see yourself as i do. ❜ she adds, 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗺𝗲𝗲𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗱𝗲𝘇'𝘀 𝗴𝗮𝘇𝗲 as she grabs some bronzer to brush a very subtle layer over her cheeks, forehead and jawline.
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jules texting sawyer "bwAaAAaAaA 🎺🐛" at 3am when he's high as shit, send tweet
𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗗𝗢𝗠 𝗜𝗡𝗕𝗢𝗫 𝗣𝗥𝗢𝗠𝗣𝗧𝗦 // @okoden + ALWAYS ACCEPTING
[ 𝚂𝙼𝚂 ► 𝙹𝚄𝙻𝙴𝚂 ♡ ] : istg if u just ate a 500 mg gummie im gunna call 911
[ 𝚂𝙼𝚂 ► 𝙹𝚄𝙻𝙴𝚂 ♡ ] : partially for the ambulance but also for the cops because it's a crime that you didn't share
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@ripvirgin gets a makeup starter!
—— ✞ ; 𝗣𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗘𝗡𝗖𝗘 𝗕𝗘𝗚𝗜𝗡𝗦 𝗧𝗢 𝗗𝗪𝗜𝗡𝗗𝗟𝗘 𝗠𝗢𝗠𝗘𝗡𝗧 𝗕𝗬 𝗠𝗢𝗠𝗘𝗡𝗧. every shift of eddie's movements has sawyer closer and closer to 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗰𝗶𝗻𝗴 him to sit in place. for the upteenth time, she takes pause, straightening as she peers down at him with 𝘁𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗹𝗶𝗽𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗰𝗹𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗵𝗲𝗱 𝗷𝗮𝘄, frustration clearly painted on her face. a deep, audible sigh is taken through her nose, chest very obviously expanding as she waits for her 𝗰𝗹𝗶𝗲𝗻𝘁 to settle. tongue pushes on the inside of her cheek, head tilted before she puts the brush down.
in a swift movement, sawyer grabs both eddie's wrists, holding them up in front of himself before she 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗸𝗲𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺 𝘃𝗶𝗼𝗹𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗹𝘆, ❛ for the love of god, can you please stop fucking fidgetting!? ❜ she snaps at him before putting his hands on either side of his thighs, ❛ sit on these. now! ❜ though it's said rather bluntly, there's no true aggression behind her words, 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗳𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗯𝗹𝗲 with the fact that herself and eddie bicker like this constantly, ❛ you asked me to do this, remember? ❜
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@oftoska 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐀𝐍 𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. | ᴀᴄᴄᴇᴘᴛɪɴɢ.
8. to undress my muse
it's the longest they've been apart, sawyer finding malcom to have more similarities with her shadow than anything else. to be without him for a week seems surreal, doubling that time making it that much more unbearable. how she managed to find herself getting her stomach pumped shouldn't have been a surprise to anyone, the bender she's participated in having the capability to at least put her in a small coma. to be up and awake, let alone finally back home, is enough to be labeled a miracle.
she's been put into isolation for the last week as her team tries to clean up the mess she's made, pick up the pieces of her career and paint a picture that's far less a disaster than what she's created. she's left lonely in her own home as she tries to wrangle with the reality that she needs to slow down, that what she did could have ended far differently.
the knock at the door isn't a surprise, her team having told her that they'll be sending someone to check in on her. yet, seeing malcom on the other side of the door has her heart break, guilt and unwavering apology as tears immediately brim her gaze, ❝ mal ... ❞ his name leaves her like a prayer, ❝ i'm so sorry ... ❞ her apology is cut short in the way he lifts her, arms wrapping around her as sawyer immediately sinks into his hold. digging her head into the crook of his neck, she betrays herself as a few sobs escape her, one hand holding the back of his head and gripping a fistful of his hair as she feels herself whisked away towards her bedroom.
he doesn't say anything as he takes a seat on the bed, sawyer expecting nothing less as she simply remains straddling his hips. she's in nothing but one of his shirts, a remnant of their time together before she nearly destroyed every last morsel of good they created between the two of them. pulling her head away, there's anguish painted across her delicate features, both hands moving to cup his neck as she desperately begins to plead for forgiveness, ❝ i didn't mean it ... i didn't mean anything i — ❞
❝ i need to feel you. ❞
the depth of his voice interrupts her this time, sawyer's eyes peering into his with a sense of confusion. but she doesn't question it, expression managing to soften into something akin to understanding as the warmth of his palms snake beneath the fabric of her shirt. a small, gentle nod is her response before she leans forward, lips catching his as it begins to dawn on her that maybe his actions are made out of the same relief she feels. that he's back in her arms just as she's back in his, reunited and filled with the solace of knowing she's safe.
a soft whimper escapes her at the notion, drawing his head closer to hers as she feels the rough touch of his palms run up her sides, gathering the shirt with them before he forces them to break apart. her lips follow his, that aching craving for him unrelenting even as she reluctantly straightens to help him remove the only thing keeping him from seeing every last inch of her.
hands take home back on the sides of his face, brushing her nose against his, ❝ i'm here ... ❞ she assures with a soft coo, lips finding his in a much more gentle embrace. she grabs one of his hands, placing it over her heart for a few beats, ❝ feel me. ❞ she adds, only to take that same hand and lift it to her throat, encouraging him to hold, ❝ feel all of me. ❞
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@maskacre HIT THE HEART FOR A STARTER.
❝ i never thought i'd say this but ... you clean up pretty well. ❞ hands rest on her hips, the gown she adorns leaving very little to the imagination. they're already far later than they should be, sawyer needing to redo her makeup and fix her hair before they left ( much to frank's doing ). eyes scan his attire, offering a somewhat cheeky grin, ❝ ready to ham it up for the next four hours? ❞
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@vulpesse 🇭🇮🇹 🇹🇭🇪 🇭🇪🇦🇷🇹 🇫🇴🇷 🇦 🇸🇹🇦🇷🇹🇪🇷.
honest, true friendships are hard to come by in an industry where almost every single person within it is curated beyond recognition. it's where someone like sawyer can be easily eaten alive, should her last name not hold such immense weight within it's letters. 'bardot' is held in homes, spoken on lips with admiration and respect through at least two generations of entertainment. the path sawyer once walked is laid out before her, beaten down enough for easy passage.
but she's stepped off it, veering off in a direction that her parents don't approve of; where aggression is woven into song, screams as artful as a siren's song. it is her path she walks now, feet padding against the red carpet sewn from her own success.
her presence is noted, reactions split between envy and discredit as she makes her rounds greeting faces familiar and unfamiliar. it's when she sees one in particular that her face brightens, one arm shooting straight high in the air and waving frantically. should he shoes not already be six inches, the brunette would find herself on her tiptoes trying to get the other woman's attention, ❝ ahri! ❞
the bodies part enough for her to make a straight-ish line toward the k-star, ❝ you're hereeee! ❞
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@oftoska 🇭🇮🇹 🇹🇭🇪 🇭🇪🇦🇷🇹 🇫🇴🇷 🇦 🇸🇹🇦🇷🇹🇪🇷.
fingers lack every bit of coordination as she scrolls through to find the particular name she's hoping to press. she's done it again. lost herself to her own demons but knows, at least this time around, that to get behind the wheel would lead to something much larger than a scandal.
guilt builds in her belly, only barely conscious enough to realize just what ungodly hour she was calling him at; but she doesn't know who else to turn to. not her parents, as they'll surely have a conniption — them catching wind of her escapades regardless of her being a grown adult in her mid-twenties, doing enough damage already. not her friends because they're likely just as messed up as she is. discretion takes precedence, knowing malcom is able to provide what she needs to keep her name out of the tabloids.
hearing his voice on the other line, apology ( as slurred as it is ) drips from her own in response, ❝ hey. i'm — i'm so fuckin' sorry. i — ❞ a small whine leaves her as she leans against a wall just outside the club, ❝ i know it's late but can you come get me? i can't let the paps see me. ❞
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@malignantdevil 🇭🇮🇹 🇹🇭🇪 🇭🇪🇦🇷🇹 🇫🇴🇷 🇦 🇸🇹🇦🇷🇹🇪🇷.
❝ we can switch bassists for the day — ❞ it's absolutely not because she wants the day with her boyfriend. pfft. who would ever possibly think that? still, sawyer looks to dag with brows raised, shoulders lifting to her ears in a small shrug, ❝ you take connor and i'll take tommy. ❞ lips pull into a bright, cheeky smile, batting her eyelashes as if she actually needs to convince him of anything.
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@whitelace 𝙶𝙴𝚃𝚂 𝙰 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚁𝚃𝙴𝚁 !
[ ✞ ] 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛 𝗟𝗜𝗣𝗦 𝗣𝗨𝗟𝗟𝗘𝗗 𝗪𝗜𝗗𝗘 𝗜𝗡𝗧𝗢 𝗔 𝗕𝗥𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧 𝗦𝗠𝗜𝗟𝗘, it's clear that the young vocalist has found some sort of reprieve from lacking confidence. val always elicits a small spark of jealousy, especially since her parents speak of her in high regard ( a sentiment sawyer has yet to experience herself ), but there is little that can bring her down from the excitement of the news that she's been invited to the vmas. she can't remember the last time a metal act was asked to play, a genre that is often overlooked, and it's her own band that's breaking that streak.
❝ val! ❞ with a hand held high, sawyer pairs the call with a wave, grabbing the fellow musicians attention, ❝ c'mere! ❞ the gesture shifts to one of enthusiastic invitation, ❝ have a drink with me! ❞
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in a bar or restaurant, muses discuss in detail what they’re going to do to each other once they get home.
LOCATION BASED SMUT PROMPTS // @be4tdown + accepting.
—— ✞ ; 𝗦𝗔𝗪𝗬𝗘𝗥 𝗗𝗢𝗘𝗦𝗡'𝗧 𝗪𝗔𝗡𝗧 𝗧𝗢 𝗦𝗔𝗬 𝗜𝗧 𝗙𝗘𝗘𝗟𝗦 𝗪𝗘𝗜𝗥𝗗 𝗧𝗢 𝗕𝗘 𝗢𝗨𝗧 𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘 𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗦. to have vic all to herself in a way that's planned, with a date, time and location in mind. sure, 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘆 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺𝘀𝗲𝗹𝘃𝗲𝘀 𝗮𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗽𝗹𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘆 in day to day life, but it's usually driven by spontaneity and impulse rather than the desire to simply be with one another. but if they're going to be 𝗽𝗿𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴, sawyer figured they may as well try and make it convincing. so they sit at the back of a bar, just the two of them, 𝘀𝗶𝗱𝗲 𝗯𝘆 𝘀𝗶𝗱𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝗮 𝗯𝗼𝗼𝘁𝗵 with vic's arm draped over sawyer's shoulders. to anyone watching, they look like a typical 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲-𝘀𝗶𝗰𝗸 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗽𝗹𝗲 out on a simple date. in that regard, they play the part well.
aside from the fact that sawyer's hands 𝘀𝗻𝗮𝗸𝗲𝘀 𝗯𝗲𝗻𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗵 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘁𝗮𝗯𝗹𝗲, running over vic's thigh with the aim of finding the seam of his jeans. she finds the tightness of the fabric there amusing, lips pulling into a familiar smirk to 𝗺𝗶𝗿𝗿𝗼𝗿 𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗲𝗺𝗼𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 as she leans forward. close enough to feel the 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗵, she runs the palm of her hand flat over the length of him, a result of the 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗺 𝗼𝗳 𝗳𝗶𝗹𝘁𝗵𝘆 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗺𝗶𝘀𝗲𝘀 that have left the both of them for the last ten minutes. in all honesty, if the hands of the man she's pressed herself against 𝗱𝗶𝗱 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿, they'll find her in a similar position; filled with a sense of yearning in the form of just how wet she's become.
she knows this isn't supposed to be the 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻, that it's supposed to be an opportunity to spend some intentional time alone together — 𝗴𝗲𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿. but there's a gravitational pull sawyer feels whenever vic comes into her orbit, completely overtaken by 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝘆 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗿 𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗯𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗱𝘀 𝗵𝗲𝗿 to much else when their eyes meet the way they are now.
❛ so hard for me . . . ❜ tone is low, though holds a 𝘀𝗲𝗻𝘀𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗱𝗼𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗲 as she bites her lower lip and gives his cock a soft squeeze, ❛ you wanna fuck my pussy so bad, don't you. ❜ a small nod of encouragement follows, tempting herself to close the gap and indulge in his lips at last a little. if she has any less shame than she does in this moment, she would have taken him right there, straddle his hips and let him 𝗿𝘂𝗶𝗻 𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗵𝗲'𝘀 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗺𝗶𝘀𝗲𝗱 for the last sretch of their date. perhaps she shouldn't be surprised at the fact that this is where they end up, but sawyer's not about to show an ounce of complaint, ❛ or do you wanna start with my throat first? ❜
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"look at me." 🤪
"LOOK AT ME" MEME // @othunderous + ACCEPTING .
—— ✞ ; 𝗦𝗧𝗢𝗣𝗣𝗘𝗗 𝗗𝗘𝗔𝗗 𝗜𝗡 𝗛𝗘𝗥 𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗞𝗦, sawyer peers upward towards the towering figure in front of her. head slowly follows her eyes, craning back but easily quickened at the sensation of thor's fingers 𝗴𝗿𝗶𝗽𝗽𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗻. eyes still hold a sense of defiance, nostrils flaring as frustrated tears glass over her eyes. how they got on the topic of her parents, she's not sure, but the 𝗽𝘂𝗿𝗲 𝗿𝗮𝗴𝗲, 𝗴𝘂𝗶𝗹𝘁 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗯𝗲𝘁𝗿𝗮𝘆𝗮𝗹 still sits heavy in her belly at the thought of them. she knows he's just trying to help, trying to understand 𝘄𝗵𝘆 𝘀𝗵𝗲'𝘀 𝘀𝗼 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗸𝗹𝗲𝘀𝘀 with her own life. but the questions he asks only seems to set her off in a way he certainly doesn't deserve. the effects of the drinks they've been sharing all night; emotions are harder to regulate, 𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝘀𝘂𝗿𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲.
she tries hard to keep her 𝗱𝗲𝗳𝗲𝗻𝘀𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗯𝗲𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗶𝗼𝘂𝗿, to come off as if she's angry because then maybe it'll 𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝗵𝗶𝗺 𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝗼𝗳𝗳. maybe it'll make him leave her alone and not ask any more questions. but through the frustration in his voice, sawyer can see a 𝘀𝗲𝗻𝘀𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗿𝘆 in his gaze, which only makes it 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝗱𝗶𝗳𝗳𝗶𝗰𝘂𝗹𝘁 to stoke the flames of fury she wants to unleash upon anyone and everyone who has ever come in contact with her. slowly, her expression shifts, brows 𝗳𝘂𝗿𝗿𝗼𝘄𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝗻 𝘀𝗮𝗱𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀 as her lip begins to quiver.
❛ please . . . ❜ the words is a choked whisper as she clenches her jaw and keeps herself in his hold, not trying to pull away, ❛ please don't. ❜ don't what? 𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗲? 𝗮𝘀𝗸 𝗮𝗻𝘆 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀? 𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗸 𝗮𝘁 𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁? she doesn't know. all she knows is that the world is crumbling beneath her feet and she doesn't know how to stop it.
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“ look at me. “
"LOOK AT ME" MEME // @whitelace + ACCEPTING .
—— ✞ ; 𝗪𝗛𝗔𝗧'𝗗 𝗦𝗛𝗘 𝗧𝗔𝗞𝗘? the room spins and before sawyer knows it she's on the floor of the club. the afterparty is in celebration of winning a grammy, something she can 𝗼𝗻𝗹𝘆 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗱𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗺𝗲𝗱 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁 until just a few hours before. celebration is justified, but the lack of knowing when to stop isn't. someone must have handed her something, having 𝗽𝗼𝗽𝗽𝗲𝗱 𝗮 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗲𝗶𝗴𝗻 𝗽𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗼𝗻 𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗼𝗻𝗴𝘂𝗲 before washing it down with her fourth double vodka soda for the night. she was feeling good — 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗴𝗼𝗼𝗱 — until the moment she comes crashing down.
sawyer 𝗱𝗼𝗲𝘀𝗻'𝘁 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄 how she got back to her apartment, how she's in her own bed though still fully clothed. at least there's that saving grace. though 𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗱 𝘀𝗽𝗶𝗻𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗺𝗮𝗰𝗵 𝗹𝘂𝗿𝗰𝗵𝗲𝘀, she groans as she slowly opens her eyes to find the face of val staring down at her with worry. she must have given her friend 𝗾𝘂𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁, as she feels two hands cup her face as a soft coo directs itself towards her. guilt falls into the pit of her stomach, not just for val, but the boys as well. this is 𝘀𝘂𝗽𝗽𝗼𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝗲 𝗮 𝗰𝗲𝗹𝗲𝗯𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺, but she's taken it too far once again.
❛ look at me. ❜
she does as she's told, looking into val's eyes as it seems she's trying to find any signs of damage, ❛ what . . . happened? how'd i get here? ❜
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"I'd totally fuck you" while kissing her kissing her kissing her
SEND ❛ I'D TOTALLY FUCK YOU ❜ TO SEE SAWYER'S REACTION // @shellcrack + ACCEPTING.
—— ✞ ; 𝗛𝗘𝗥 𝗟𝗔𝗨𝗚𝗛 𝗛𝗜𝗦 𝗠𝗨𝗙𝗙𝗟𝗘𝗗 𝗕𝗬 𝗠𝗜𝗥'𝗦 𝗟𝗜𝗣𝗦 𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗦𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗔𝗚𝗔𝗜𝗡𝗦𝗧 𝗛𝗘𝗥 𝗢𝗪𝗡. the way sawyer can't help how easily she sinks into her touch, her taste — 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴, it's no surprise to anyone who's within ten feet of them. hands remain on mir's hips, keeping her girlfriend 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗱𝗱𝗹𝗲𝗱 𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗼𝘄𝗻 as they continue their string of kisses, ❛ mmm, really? i couldn't tell . . . ❜ finally, sawyer manages to say, only to break away from miriam to start a trail of kisses over her jawline and neck, all while mischeivous fingers 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗿 𝗼𝘄𝗻 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗶𝗹 up and under her shirt.
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