#i did not think i would ever get to this point

[nothorses]

thinking about how my mom spent like 2 years getting downright vicious about the houseless folks who were camping in the woods past her house (to the point of getting a BB rifle that looked like a real fucking gun to threaten them with when they crossed in front of her house??) and justifying it with White Lady Fear a la "what if one of them does something to me! I am but a helpless white woman living all alone!!" and like...

y'all, she terrorized those people. every single time she saw someone outside, she was riling her dog up to bark, waving a gun in their faces (that for all intents & purposes they certainly thought was real), yelling at them, calling the cops (thank god the 2 rural-ass cops didn't actually give a shit), etc.

and she justified it with fears of womanly fragility & inability to defend herself, and I believe how afraid she was! she talked about fearing they would break into her house at night and sexually assault her, and I believe she was legitimately afraid of that. she's been victimized in many of the ways she was afraid of being victimized by them.

the thing is that it doesn't matter how real the fear is.

nothing ever happened, nobody ever tried to threaten her, nobody tried to break in, nobody even approached her. she initiated every single interaction. when she told them not to go through her yard, they did the best they could to respect that without giving up their camping spot; which was on someone else's property, who didn't mind them being there (not to mention one of them is actually indigenous to this specific land!)

she was a thousand times more threatening to those people than they ever were to her, but her fear of them was still real. and that's exactly what made her so dangerous.

I need cis women to internalize this ASAP. your fear is real, and it can and will hurt others. your fear is real, and it is harmful. your fear is real, and your hurt is not deserved, and you still need to grow & heal & prevent it from causing harm.

[lipringlrh]

HE DOESN’T WANT ME WHEN HE’S SOBER PART 2 (LANDO ENDING)

read: part one | logan ending

summary: lando’s your best friend but seems to like you when he’s drunk. but then again, he seems to like everyone when he’s drunk.

pairing: lando norris x gn!reader

wc: 1.8k

Lando wouldn’t admit it to anyone but that night was the worst sleep he’d ever had. He left as soon as he found out you’d left with Lily and Alex, and made his way to your house just to find out you weren’t there. He messaged Alex to get no response and contemplated waiting outside your door until you came back, whether it be days or months, he’d wait for you. But, after almost falling asleep numerous times and getting laughed at by a group of teenagers, he made his way back to his apartment, knowing you’d be looked after.

He was awake almost all night, messaging and calling you and regretting everything in its entirety. He didn’t fully know if you had even seen him kiss the person that resembled you, he only felt it deep down, but even if you hadn’t, he shouldn’t have done it, and he could never apologise enough. He thought of how to explain his thoughts but nothing would suffice; nothing would ever be able to explain how he felt.

At some point in the early hours, he finally drifted off, but awoke not much later to an aggressive banging on his door and a voice screaming at him to hurry up. He wished the voice was you but it wasn’t and he hated it. He rushed to his door, barely having time to pull on some grey joggers before opening it to an angry Alex, very close to breaking the door down.

“Are you stupid?” Alex questioned, fuming, pushing his way into Lando’s house, “I know that you’re in love with her so what are you doing?”

Lando looked like a deer in headlights. He couldn’t explain his actions, he didn’t even want to think about them. All he remembered feeling was grief at watching you walk away, so when he found someone that looked eerily similar, he took the chance to kiss them and create the image in his mind of kissing you. It didn’t last long. He realised too quickly that they didn’t smell like you and the way they kissed wasn’t the same. He hated it, he didn’t want to kiss anyone but you.

“I know, I didn’t mean to-”

“What, you just tripped into her mouth then?” Alex questioned, pushing a finger against Lando’s chest.

“No- no. I don’t know why I did, I really love them I promise. We almost kissed but then they walked away, I was hurt, I didn’t think they wanted me,” Lando almost cried, his voice cracking.

“You do this every time you go out. You kiss her every time you go out and she follows, you don’t get to pull that card. You might be upset but I promise you’re not even feeling half of it,” Alex spat, not caring if he hurt Lando because he hurt you much more.

“Help me apologise. I need to apologise, please Alex, please help,” Lando begged, wanting you to more than anything, “Please Alex, I’ll do anything.”

Alex sighed. At that moment, he hated Lando for what he did, but he’d been wishing for you both to get together since he first saw you both together, making heart eyes at each other. He contemplated in his head whether to help or not. He always envisioned you together but always wanted what's best for you and right now he couldn’t tell if that was Lando or not. But looking at the state of him, red, wet eyes, begging for his help, he wanted to believe Lando regretted everything and would do anything to prove he loved you.

“Okay, but I’m not letting you be forgiven easily, I want you to prove it,” Alex sighed, running his hands over his face. A feeling of simultaneous relief and guilt eating him alive.

Lando promised Alex over and over again, and in between each syllable, promising himself also that he would give you the world in apologies, and whatever happened he deserved it, but even if there was the slimmest chance you could forgive him, Lando would take it and cherish it.

Alex messaged you and you told him it was fine to bring Lando over, as long as he didn’t expect much, and so they turned up less than five minutes later. Alex left you both alone in the kitchen to sit with Lily in the living room after repeating countless times he was a shout away.

You almost broke down just seeing him but managed to keep it in. You didn’t want him to explain, you didn’t care to hear it at the moment, but as soon as Alex left he began spilling out apologies and trying to explain himself, which you quickly shut up.

“I want some space,” you sighed. You wanted Lando close but you wanted everything you felt for him gone first. You couldn’t believe he ever felt the same, not after that.

“Of course, I understand,” his voice broke as he stepped back, trying to show you he would do anything you said.

“Not like that, Lando. I mean it, I don’t think I can see you for a while.”

“Oh-” he said, “When can I see you again?”

“I’m not sure, I’m sorry-”

“Don’t be, this is my fault,” he sighed, clearly upset and looking at the ground, “I’ll go, I’ll see you soon.”

After he left, you broke down crying, debating your decision on if you handled it right. You already missed him, and still loved him, but you also didn’t want to see him. Alex explained the whole morning, and his perspective, giving you hope you could fix it with Lando, especially after Alex’s approval, which you trusted more than anything.

The next few times you saw him were at hangouts with your shared friends. You knew he’d be there as none of your friends would invite him unless you were completely sure you didn’t mind him there. He stayed away, but didn’t make it awkward to the people around you, and always gave you a shy smile when you caught his eye.

He didn’t try to text or call again, despite wanting to more than anything, and instead waited for you to make the first move whenever you were ready. You had missed him more than anything, in both an “I love him” and “he’s my best friend” way, and it was killing you from being away from him, especially after how well he listened to your instructions.

You were at a mutual friend's get-together, a small barbecue in a back garden when you decided it was time. You had been debating texting him but after seeing him, you decided you couldn’t wait.

He was standing alone in a corner beside a flower patch and some grass, drink in hand, and surveying everyone that was there when you walked over. He didn’t know how to greet you and so awkwardly moved his hands between going for a hug or a handshake. You laughed and hugged him, both of you holding on tightly, unhappy to let go.

“I’ve missed you,” you whispered gently, looking down and playing with your fingers, slightly nervous to admit it to him after all this time.

“I’ve missed you too,” he grins, adding on, “So much,” with a quiet whisper.

“How’ve you been?” you asked, trying to make small talk before delving right in.

“Okay, I’ve not really done much. Races have been okay.”

“I saw,” you smiled, “You’ve done really well.”

“You watched?” he questioned, a little surprised. You met his eyes and nodded, explaining how you could never miss one.

“Do you want to talk inside?” you asked, heart pounding as you said it. He nodded immediately, without hesitation, and followed you in through the double glass doors into the kitchen, but only after picking out a daisy from the grass next to him and offering it out to you, causing both of you to grin.

He closed the doors behind you both, blocking out as much other noise as possible, ready for you to begin. “I want to know how you feel about this and about me,” you started, voice shaky.

“I’m sorry, I’m still so sorry. I love you and I want what’s best for you and I can’t even find an excuse, I was being stupid and thinking how you’d never want me. It was all nothing, you’re the only person that’s ever meant anything, I’m so sorry. I will do anything to fix this- anything.”

“Lan,” you let out a breath, “You still want me?”

“More than anything,” he grinned and you stepped forward to reach him, locking your arms around his neck.

Your fingers tangled themselves in his hair as you pull his face down until his lips are almost touching yours. He was smiling so much you thought it might be impossible to kiss him but you pulled him into you anyway, finally kissing him again.

“Stop smiling,” you laughed, pulling away to say it before immediately kissing him again.

“What? Can I not be happy? I’m getting my girl back,” he pulled away, grinning harder, then trying to drag you back in, which was almost successful until you pulled away at the last second.

“I can barely kiss you like this and I’d really, really like to,” you giggled, tugging him back again to enjoy another impatient kiss.

Your hands were running all over his head, completely ruining his hair, but he didn’t care. His hands were wrapped around your waist, holding you impossibly close. When you finally parted he still kept you close, resting his forehead on yours.

“Are you sure you want this?” he questioned, his breath still heavy.

You kissed his cheek and looked straight into his eyes, “More than anything, I promise,” you paused for a moment, “But you’re going to have to grovel to repay all the lost time we’ve had.”

“I’m going to prove to you that I’m all in, that I want this more than I could possibly explain,” Lando promised, meaning every word. He was already planning out exactly what he wanted to do - he knew he had to work to become your official boyfriend, but he would do everything possible for you.

You just stared at him, showcasing the biggest smile you’ve ever had, eyes full of love, knowing you weren’t ever going to let each other go or even risk it again.

“God I love you,” he grinned, ignoring the fact he still hadn’t caught his breath and pulling you into another, more intimate, kiss.

taglist in reblogs

[lymtw]

Toji invites you over with a simple text of:

You busy tonight, doll?

To which you respond:

I don't think so... Not that I know of. Why?

Toji laughs through his nose when he reads your message. Even the way you text him has your timidness imbued into it. It's precious.

Come spend the night at my place. You told me you're off tomorrow, right?

I am, but are you sure? Driving home is not a problem for me. I can hang out and go home after.

You're staying. I wanna try something with you and it requires you to stay the night. You can't go home.

Oh okay! I'll be there in 10.

Drive safe.

Toji likes that you're very precise about the time you'll be arriving somewhere, and if you're ever late when it comes to spending time with him, you apologize profusely, nonstop. You won't stop blubbering about why you're late and how sorry you are for making him wait, even after Toji's expressed that he's more than understanding. He's the king of showing up late to plans, so he can't be a hypocrite and scold you when you don't do it often at all.

You're so sorry, though, and you don't shut up about it until he makes you shut up with a kiss. You're helpless, and you can't for the life of you figure out where to put your hands when you're so focused on the grip he had on your waist to pull you up against him.

He releases your lips, cracking a grin at the look of wonder on your face. He can't deny the pride that swells in his chest at his ability to disarm you and prevent you from having a total meltdown over a three minute delay.

Toji has gotten so much better at handling situations like these with you. It's only fair for him to gain satisfaction out of making you feel better. After all, you are a first for him. You're emotionally fragile, you're a nervous wreck, and your voice competes with the wind just to be heard. Toji doesn't set aside the fact that you're also beautiful, warmhearted, and you try for him. He sees your attempts to be affectionate. You'll slowly reach your hand out to hold his and then bail the second he catches you. He ends up having to interlock his fingers with yours because your embarrassment doesn't allow you to try again. He still appreciates that you leave your comfort zone for him and allow him to guide you towards new experiences.

"Stop with the guilty feelings, ma. We have all night and all day tomorrow. What's a couple minutes to ensure you get to me in one piece?" He says, comforting your droopy self. You look like a sad, abandoned puppy, now sporting rosy cheeks from his surprising gesture.

"Okay," you say, feeling a little more at ease. "What did you have in mind for tonight?"

"Follow me," he says, leading you through his living room to his kitchen. He pulls out a stool for you and points at it. "Sit." You want to laugh at the way he says it like he's teaching commands to a dog, but you know he doesn't mean it that way, so you obediently sit down like one anyway.

"Have you eaten anything?" He asks, silently hoping you have because he doesn't have anything to make you dinner. He would have to order in or pick something up.

"I ate a couple hours ago. Still pretty full," you respond, watching him reach up for something in his cabinets. There's now a tall glass bottle with a red label and matching cap sitting on the counter.

"How 'bout it?" He says, a large hand wrapped around the neck of the bottle. "We could go to the couch and watch a movie or something."

He's never seen you under the influence of anything, but based on your reaction, maybe he'll get a show tonight. He's always wanted to know what you would be like if you were more extroverted and outspoken. There's nothing wrong with the way you are, but if things keep going the way they're going between you and Toji, he's bound to meet your chatty alter ego at some point in the future. What better way to have this experience than in a secure place with someone who can handle their alcohol and take care of you if it turns out that you can't.

"Okay, sure." You giggle, excitedly.

You're a lightweight. Even the fruitiest, sweetest alcoholic beverage will quickly take a toll on you while you're sipping on it. Wine is a step up, so you'll have to try your best to keep it together for the sake of not looking sloppy in front of Toji.

Toji brings down two glasses, and pours out the deep red liquid into them. One for you, one for him. He hands the glass to you, and nods at your quiet "thank you".

Toji watches as you immediately take a sip. He sees the way your nose scrunches at what you consider to be a funny taste, but the second you put the glass down, you smile like nothing. You don't like it at all. You hate the bitterness, and the fact that it's made with fermented grapes lives in the back of your head.

"How is it?" He asks, holding back a chuckle. You're too sweet for your own good, pretending to enjoy this for him.

"I like it," you say, pressing your lips together.

"Yeah? I think it's kinda gross. Guess I was expecting more from a fancy ass bottle, but brands are gonna brand, huh?"

You giggle, almost involuntarily. You're one gulp in, and already you're starting to feel the effects.

One of your worst habits includes chugging drinks that don't taste good, just so you can get them over with. You even do this when your drink is messed up at coffee shop. You're too nice to ask the barista to remake it, so you suck it up and drink the incorrect beverage solely for the caffeine you hope it has in it. This time is no different. You hate the taste of alcohol. You don't do plain shots, you can't stand hard ciders, and wine is no exception, but you're doing this for Toji. He cracked open the bottle to share with you, so you're going to drink every ounce of the liquid in the glass, whether you like the taste or not.

You bring the glass to your lips again, taking a much larger sip. The glass is a little less than halfway now, and your eyelids are starting to feel a little heavy. Not in a sleepy manner, but you can't seem to hold your eyes open as wide anymore.

You exhale through your nose, shut your eyes, and then blink them back open to take note of your altered state.

"That was a lot. How are you feeling?" Toji asks, noticing a shift in your demeanor. You seem a little more sluggish now. You turn your attention to him, your eyes rolling when they turn to meet his.

"I'm good, how are you?" You ask, like it was the start of a conversation rather than an ongoing one. Your eyes almost shut completely when you smile at him.

"You're tipsy already, aren't you?" He asks, with a grin on his face.

"Pshh, what? No, i'm not," you say, contradicting yourself with a giggle. "Answer the question, baby. How are you?"

"Fine," he responds, lingering on the pet name. You've got loose lips, now. In any other circumstance, you would address him by his name. Most of the time Toji is the one giving you pet names, for the sake of flustering you. He loves the way you look at him when he calls you doll or sweetheart, somewhat shocked every time the words leave his mouth.

"Yeah? That's good." You pick up the glass one more time, sighing before you mutter, "'scuse me. Gotta finish this."

With that last sip, the glass was now empty. Even Toji thinks you drank that too fast, but he still has the courtesy to ask you if you want more.

"Mhm, I'll have a little bit more. Just a tiny bit." Toji pours as much as he did the first time, chuckling when you nod in approval of the quantity. "That's perfect. Absolutely, perfect. You're a genius, my love." You flash him a smile before starting on the next glass.

Toji was considering having another glass, but that was before you called him "my love" in a tone so warm that he felt like he just had a bowl of hot soup that was now settling in his stomach. That was before you smiled at him in such a free spirited manner. It was too late for him to see you in this state while completely sober, but he sure as hell wouldn't be adding anymore alcohol to his system. He can't miss something like this, so instead he leans forward on the counter, and intently watches your every move.

"I got something on my face?" You ask, dragging your sleeves all over your face. You examine your sleeves and they're clean. "You liar. You're looking at me like that for nothing." You squint at him, a slight scrunch in your nose to define your defensiveness.

Toji laughs, his focus now on the small pinch in your brows. "Don't go picking fights over nothing. It's not a crime to look at my pretty baby."

Your faux tough exterior immediately crumbles, the irked expression on your face dropping to the ground, at the sugary words he uses on you. Your face feels very warm, and now there's an indefinite blush on it. You can't stop smiling at the look on Toji's face. He's so focused that he's gone speechless, and you eventually break into a laughing fit because of it.

"Hey... i'm usually the quiet one. Why aren't you talking, pretty boy? Need me to shut up?"

The pet name has Toji glancing at your glass, noticing that it was full for less than five minutes. This was new— you being flirtatious towards him. He didn't have any complaints about it whatsoever.

Once again, the quantity of the wine in your glass was below the halfway mark. "Nah, baby. Talk to me. You must really like the wine, huh?"

"Mmm..." you lean forward towards him, with your elbow on the counter and your chin in your palm. "What makes you say that?"

He actually snickers this time, earning a sly grin from you. "You're chugging it like it's water. It's either you love it or it tastes like ass and you're dying to spit it out."

You pick up the glass again, one last time. "Let's find out if I like it," you say as if you're not on your second serving. You let the liquid hit your tongue, and you are instantly repulsed by the flavor. The glass is tilted all the way up, signaling that you've finished two cups of wine in less than fifteen minutes. Your cheeks are filled with the drink, blown up like a puffer fish, which makes Toji smile softly with anticipation for your reaction. Your tongue stays on the roof of your mouth, keeping the wine in your cheeks separate, to give you a break for a few seconds. You release the bubbles of your cheeks and your mouth is flooded with the bittersweet liquid. You swallow the burgundy mouthful and smile with your lips pressed together once it's all gone. The mouth drying effect of wine is your least favorite thing about it.

"So?" Toji prompts.

"It's-" you gag, clasping a hand over your mouth with wide, slightly teary eyes.

Toji's chest and shoulders shake as he contains his laughter, his lips pressed together tightly to stifle the smile threatening to show itself, but his eyes tell you everything.

"Wooo, sorry about that," you say, chuckling through the embarrassment. "It's good," you repeat, still muffled by your palm.

"Yeah? Want more?" Toji asks, holding up the bottle with a teasing grin on his face.

You almost gag again but manage to control yourself. "No, thank you. Any more and I'll doze off, and we both know that's not what i'm here for." There was a hint of sultriness in your tone, something Toji was not sufficiently familiar with. It was a completely welcome shift from your normally tentative way of speaking to him.

"I know why you're here, but I wanna know what you think you're here for."

You stand from your stool and lean more of your body onto the counter. Your hand reaches for his, and for the first time, you don't pull back before making contact with his skin. "To love on you, of course," you say, with those pretty rosy cheeks. Your eyes remained glossy and your nose was still red from trying not to bring the wine back up earlier, but Toji thought you looked so cute.

"Is that right?" His thumb brushes over your knuckles, feeling the softness against his rough fingertip.

"Let's go watch that movie you were talking about and you'll see what I mean."

Toji was loving this. Your confidence, your lack of holding back anything you had to say, it was truly baffling how you could be someone else entirely with just a couple glasses of wine.

You keep his hand in yours, and as if it were your house, you say, "come on," and drag him along to the living room.

This time you say "sit" and point at the couch. This time he's the obedient dog and does as you say, sitting on the exact cushion you were pointing at with a smirk on his face. He moves the couch pillow aside to make room for you, but you had another seat in mind. You take two steps towards him before slowly dropping yourself into his lap, straddling him.

"I see you're finally taking your seat on the throne, hm?" He grins, resting his hands on your waist. This is the closest Toji's been allowed to watch you giggle without you burying your face into his neck and it's a trip. He can see the details of the creases around your eyes and the lift in your cheeks as you smile. He feels fuzzy, and he didn't even finish his glass of wine, so he knows it's not that.

"Stop making me laugh and pick a movie, will you? I'm here for that, too."

He picks up the remote for the TV and turns it on. "How are you gonna watch the movie while facing me?"

"Actually,.. can I tell you a secret, baby?" You ask, wrapping your arms around his neck. Your fingers play with the hair that reaches towards the nape of his neck, combing through it gently.

"What's that, princess?" Toji asks, vert eyes flitting between your eyes and that sweet smile of yours.

"I don't wanna watch a movie. I... wanna look at you... and that's it." Your nails gently scratch the back of his head, eliciting a tingly sensation that makes chills run down his spine.

"That's cool, too," Toji says, turning the TV off again, not caring that it was on for less than a minute before you changed your mind. He sighs, adjusting his position beneath you. Your thighs are secured around his hips, your knees touching the backrest of the couch.

"You're so handsome, my baby. God, look at those eyes," you whisper in awe, before giggling and bringing your hands to his face. You trace the bags under his eyes with your thumbs while admiring the haunting shade of green that scopes on you. Toji's hand comes up to loosely wrap around your wrist. He's not there to stop you, he just wants to move along with you as you observe his face.

"I know I don't say this to you enough, but I find you..." you sigh, blinking slowly, "enchanting..." You lean in and kiss the left corner of his lips—his right, and feel the smooth, tattered skin beneath your warm lips. "and I love you," you mumble into the cicatrix. "So fucking much, baby. And i'm sorry that you'll never know exactly how much because you aren't me." You're looking at him with so much adoration and touching him with a delicacy that can't be put into words. It's a deadly combination, one that has Toji in a chokehold and forces him to soften up even more for you.

He tightens the hold he has on your waist, pulling you closer until your stomach is pressed to his, as a result. You being so affectionate towards him is making him feel really good, and you have no idea because you're too focused on appreciating him. He's subconsciously leaning into your touch, his softened gaze meeting your lovestruck one.

"Fuck. I love you, too, princess," he murmurs, squeezing your wrist in his hand. He pulls your hand down to his chest. "Want you to aim for my lips, this time."

"Okay," you say, smiling before closing the distance between your lips and Toji's. He can still taste the remnants of the wine you inhaled minutes ago, but it tastes much better and a lot sweeter on you. Toji can hear your high pitched little hums as you kiss him, happiness pouring into your kisses. You're trying so hard not to laugh in his face, and trying is the best you can do, right now. You never were good at hiding your smile from Toji. He can't see it, but he can feel the way your lips widen, and he's occasionally kissing your teeth when your sluggishness keeps you from matching his pace. With little pants leaving you, you drag your lips away.

He sighs, frustrated by the loss of your softness against him. "Baby..." he groans, the sound almost whine-like to your ears. He wants more, so much more of you, and you're ignoring him. You're too busy kissing his chin, and his cheeks, and the tip of his nose.

You drag your other hand down to his chest and keep your hands splayed out on it as you let your lips trail his jaw, lightly sucking on the skin. Toji can't help but think about how this version of you will be gone in the morning. You won't be as outwardly affectionate, you'll go back to second guessing every move you make with him and shrinking every time he steals kisses from you, instead of confidently kissing him back like you did a minute ago.

You make your way down his neck, pressing kiss after kiss on him before you move towards his ear. "I love you, Toji," you whisper, kissing the shell of his ear after. "Love you, love you, love you soooo much," you barrage, before throwing him off with a bite to his earlobe. You giggle like a menace into his ear, the warmth of your breath luring goosebumps out onto his skin.

He chuckles, repeatedly squeezing the soft skin of your waist between his hands. "Yeah? Tell me again," he murmurs snaking his hands beneath the back of your shirt. Your skin is very warm, and there's nothing to blame but Toji and that shitty wine for making your body react this way.

With uninterrupted hands, you course your fingers through his hair and lean in to bite him again, this time on his neck. Toji chuckles at how you instantly rush to soothe him with your tongue and a warm kiss, even when you inflicted zero pain on him.

"I love you, Toji," you repeat into the wet indentations you left behind. "My love... my handsome man... I cherish you, you know?"

Toji is practically purring at all the affection you're showering him with. The slurring of your words is blocked out and they remain clear as day to him. He manages to hum a deep little "mhm" to your last statement.

"It's just so hard to talk to you sometimes. You... you're so intimidating, sometimes. I don't expect you to understand..." you divert your gaze to his shoulder, not able to look him in the eyes as vulnerability takes sudden control of your emotions. "It seems like I don't appreciate you sometimes—all the time, but I do, Toji. I do appreciate you, and I can't ever say I love you enough to show it. Words aren't always enough."

Toji catches the waver in your voice and his eyes dart to yours. You're tearing up, and you're trying to still your quivering lips by pressing them together.

"Shit," Toji mutters under his breath. You have the saddest expression he's ever seen and it's messing with his heart. He pulls his hands out of your shirt so that he can swiftly pull you into his warm embrace. "Hey," he coos. You're shaking against him, holding your breath to avoid sobbing. Your lungs burn, but you'd rather feel that than make a scene of your tears. "Don't be sad, mama. What's with the tears, hm?" he murmurs. He can feel your tears dampening his shoulder, but the fact that you haven't made a sound is concerning. "Breathe or you'll die," he says, only half joking. He rubs a soothing palm against your back, his other arm around your waist.

You let out what sounds like a mixture between a choked laugh and a sob, slowly but surely regulating your breathing. You don't even feel like saying anything anymore because you know your voice will give way to even more pity.

"You're more than enough for me," Toji says, his chin resting on your head. "I know how you feel, you know how I feel. We're complete." He can feel the way you scrunch his shirt up into your fists. As if he would go anywhere without you. "I get you and you're stuck with me. Got it?" You silently nod against his shoulder in response. "Sit up and let me look at you."

You really don't want him to see you this way. Your eyes feel swollen and you don't feel presentable.

"I can't..." you say, barely audible. You release his shirt and let your hands go limp behind him.

"Why not?"

"I'm not pretty right now. Don't look at me."

"I'm gonna look at you," he challenges with a teasing grin.

"Toji, don't look at me."

"Too late, it's happening. Plan's already in motion," he says, sliding his arms onto your shoulders.

"Toji, don't-" He effortlessly pushes you off his shoulder and gives you a once over. You look defeated and you're unable to look him in the eyes, but at least he can see you now.

"Don't know what you were so worried about. You look the same but more blush-y." You finally give him your slightly reddened eyes, a soft smile appearing on your face. You look like your sober self. "Yeah, you look the same."

"Are you lying?" You ask, still not regaining the full strength of your voice yet.

"I wouldn't tell you if I was, but no, i'm not lying. You're so pretty." Toji wiped away tears that were stuck beneath your eyes, and you giggled. He washed away your sadness within a couple minutes. Toji always did this for you in exchange for your love and affection. He lifted your spirits when you didn't feel deserving of him, and with time, he got much better at recognizing the signs that came with this ridiculous idea you planted in your head.

"You're done loving on me? Already?" He asks in playful disbelief.

"You're not done with me? Do you actually want more?" You ask, hesitantly.

"Don't want more, I need more," he corrects, returning his hands to their rightful place on your waist. "Get all up on me, princess."

You giggle, leaning closer towards him to peck a kiss onto his cheek.

"Mhm, like that," he says, contently, when you pick up the pace and start smothering him. "Yeah, baby, there you go." His forearms go beneath your shirt, encircling around your bare waist and pulling you close to him like before. "Who's getting spoiled like me?" He says through a grin. You're holding back laughs as he continues to praise you for your affection.

"S-Stop," you say through a wheeze, not able to contain the sound any longer when you looked at him.

"What are you laughing at, huh?" He chases you this time, pressing his nose into your cheek before planting a light kiss into your jaw.

"You're so unserious," you say, turning your head as he keeps going with the kisses.

"Mmm... I'm serious about you," he says, feeling the vibration of your laughter against his grin. "So serious."

Your cheeks feel incredibly hot from how much you've been smiling. In this little drunken haze, things are so good. You're so happy, you're so affectionate, and you talk so much. This isn't like you at all, but it's not hurting anyone, especially not Toji. There was one minor slip, but you moved past it so quickly like the words never left your head to begin with. You're just so simple... so easy to take care of.

Toji notices the way your eyes are starting to lid with tiredness, and while he would love for you to doze off in his arms right then and there, you'd probably prefer waking up in a bed.

"Let's go to bed, yeah?" He suggests.

"What? No! I just got here... We can still talk, and kiss and- I'm not even tired."

Toji grins at the way you fight him on this, and he has half a mind to indulge you when you look so adorable, but he has to stand his ground. He's right.

"But, you are. You can't even hold your eyes open, anymore."

You feel sad again because the rest of the night would be going to waste if you both go to sleep early. You're there to spend time with Toji, and yet you feel like it's your fault your time is being cut short. You're thinking you shouldn't have drank the wine so quickly, if at all.

"Listen, doll," Toji says. He doesn't like the sadness that resurfaces on your pretty face. He doesn't think you should look that way because of him. "We're just gonna go lay in bed. We don't have to go to sleep. We can stay up as long as you want. Light on or light off, whatever you wanna do, let's just move it to the room."

You sigh, still not completely convinced that the night isn't over, but Toji managed to persuade you. "Will you carry me, please? My legs feel like jelly."

"Of course. What kind of person would I be if I let you stumble into the room on your own?"

You sigh, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, your face buried into the crook of his neck. "You'd still be my favorite person, but i'd be a little upset..."

Toji stands from the couch, humming in response to your quiet mumbles.

"...but not really upset. Just a little bummed. Not for too long, though, 'cause I love you, but I would expect an apology from you if I fell down," you draw out.

Toji cracks at your little ramblings. It's a ten second walk from the couch to the bedroom, and the whole time you were working through a hypothetical conflict.

"Yeah? You'd want me to say sorry?" He asks, setting you down on the bed.

"Mhm, and then I wouldn't be upset or bummed anymore," you mutter to yourself as you roll onto your back.

"That's fair. Want the light on or off?"

"Off," you blurt. "Let's tell scary stories," you trill, enthusiastically. You pull the blanket over your lower body until it reaches just below your chest.

Toji makes his way to the bed after turning off the light. He takes his shirt off, and out of habit lets it fall to the floor. "We're not telling scary stories this late at night," he says, joining you beneath the blanket.

"But, they're funny," you say, turning to face him. "I don't get scared, either."

"Depends on who's telling the story. I'm sure as hell not gonna feed you a nightmare, doll."

"Boo," you say, lowly. "Whatever, i'm over it already," you mutter, rolling your eyes.

Toji watches you grow more and more tired as you throw random, nonsensical topics at him. You're taking longer to respond by the minute, and you're dozing off while humming in thought. You shake awake each time it happens and try to keep the conversation going, but Toji just shushes you and tells you to go back to sleep.

"I can see the moon through the window," you mumble, looking past him.

"I know, shh..." he hushes you, again.

"There's only like... one star," you whisper, in awe.

"Baby, come here," Toji says, like he's about to lecture you about the rules of sleep, but really he's just thinking that if his body heat doesn't put you down, he's gonna have to stay up with you until you fall asleep on your own.

You scoot closer towards Toji, tucking your arms into your chest when he reaches out to pull you into him the rest of the way. His body exudes so much warmth, you feel like you don't need the blanket at all.

There was nothing left for you to say when you couldn't see or feel anything but him. It was as if you were gone the second he enveloped you in his arms. You were small to the brink of nonexistence, no longer there to tell him what your surroundings were, or to ask him thoughtless, silly questions. You were no longer there to fight off the sleep he only seemed to bring closer towards you. Feeling his warm skin against you made you change your mind about this invisible fiend that was pulling your eyelids down. You now welcomed the calls to rest from your steady heartbeats.

Your silence gave him the answer he needed, but for good measure, he poked at you with a whisper of, "Ma?" and waited a few seconds for your response. Nothing. He sighed and coiled around you tighter. Thoughts of the night ran through his head. Your soft, yet, occasionally bruising kisses and the imprints of your teeth on his skin, your unapologetic laughter, your certainty in using the pet names that claimed him as yours. He was weak for the amount of times you openly told him you loved him. It was a psychedelic dream, to say the least. One he hoped would continue once he followed you into slumber.

You woke up hours later, completely smothered by your bear of a man. All you could do was stare up at the ceiling, while you waited for Toji to wake up because he was literally breathing down your neck. His arm rested over your chest, his legs were tangled with yours, and his face was right beside your face. You weren't feeling the effects of the wine anymore, and luckily, you didn't have a headache or any signs of a hangover. You were back, which meant...

"What are you staring at?" A deep, raspy voice jolts you out of your thoughts.

You look at the handsome face next to you, and as if your heart can hear and see, it wakes up. "Nothing. Just woke up," you lie.

"Mm... you were staring hard at the roof. I thought it came to life or something," Toji chuckles. You smile, briefly, before looking at the ceiling again.

Toji releases you and flips onto his back, wanting to know what's so fascinating about the space you're looking at. "What are you thinking?" He asks, when he discovers nothing but blank space.

You take your time, not wanting to stumble over your words. Your heart skips a beat when he turns his head to look at you. In the time it takes for you to respond, you both could have gone back to sleep again.

"A penny for your thoughts?" he finally says, following the idiom with a question. "Did I even use that correctly?"

You can't help but laugh, nodding your head to answer his question. "I'm thinking about last night. Sorry if I said anything stupid."

Toji turns his body towards you again, thinking the only thing that's stupid is that he's still staring at the roof instead of staring at you. "You didn't. You were calm, from what I got to see, at least."

"So... boring."

"Not boring," he instantly catches. "You were perfect. You didn't have me running around chasing you, you weren't a brat—it couldn't have gone better, ma." He purposely missed something in his less than brief recount of the night to you. He can think back to the emotions that seeped through your little daze, and your insecurity about outwardly showing him love, all he wants, but there's no way in hell he's bringing that up to you, now. "You ramble a lot," he adds, a soft smile emerging on his face.

You can feel your cheeks warming up. "Oh god," you groan in embarrassment. "That's not- Sorry, that sounds... not so fun. Annoying of me, actually."

"Stop, it was cute," he assures, adding more fury to the blush creeping on your face. "Then you wouldn't go to sleep 'cause you kept seeing stuff outside the window."

You wanted to drown yourself in the blanket. Shame and embarrassment were winning their battle against you, as always.

"That was also cute," he says, watching the way your lips twitch as you bite back a smile. "You know my favorite part, though?" He says, grinning as he leans towards your ear.

"N-No, what?" You ask, trying so hard not to giggle.

"When you kissed me and told me you loved me," he murmurs into your ear like it's a dirty secret.

You snicker, the short sound of amusement evolving into laughter within seconds. You throw the blanket over your face and partially over Toji's face. The sight of your veiled body shaking with laughter lured out a couple chuckles of his own.

"That's funny?" He asks, pulling the blanket down, allowing you to see the sly grin he's sporting.

"A little bit," you respond, smiling— a remainder of your laughter.

"Silly girl. Come here," he says, dragging you back into his arms. There's no reason you should be awake at six in the morning on your day off. "Let's go back to sleep," he murmurs into the crown of your head. "We can go out for breakfast, later."

"Okay," you mumble, eyes shut already as you embrace the natural warmth of his body.

"One more thing," he murmurs. You don't raise your gaze, but your ears are open and you're listening closely. "Tell me you love me."

You didn't expect that, but you weren't going to deny him of such a simple thing. The words were easy to recite because you meant them with every fiber of your being. "I love you, Toji," you comply, immediately.

He sighs, contently, almost like hearing those words revitalized him. "Love you, too, mama."

That went out to every version of you.

[gay-dorito-dust]

@thelightofmylife wouldn’t it be funny if I decided to reread your entire HSR writing list again (I in fact did)… lolol <3 I’m still thinking about your response to me btw. You’re very kind 💖💞💗 truly I can’t get enough of your writing and I suppose kind words

No pressure to do this request if you don’t want to, you can also take this ask as an invitation to chat too

( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ

ahh! I was thinking ,,,, Sunday + Aventurine + Jing Yuan… and anyone else you would personally want to do …!! Giving them headpats because you love them soooo much!!! And receiving or asking for headpats in trade … <3 i think it’s a universal thing that headpats are <33 so good and lovely and good for showing love ;w;’ <3

Jing Yuan will gladly accept your head pats, he finds your beaming face adorable as you gently patted his head as though you were being extremely cautious with how you gave him head pats.

He recognises it as your primary display of love after awhile and would create a routine where he would just sit himself in front of you, claim that he was meditating, and closes his eyes and waits until he felt you begin to pat him on the head and mutter ‘soft floofy hair’ under your breath as he fights back the urge to smile.

You really do want his heart and he didn’t want to go back to a reality where he did not know the power of your comforting head pats.

Someone could’ve been looking for him about something serious and when they’ve enter the room, they are greeted to the sight of him him dozing off all the while getting treated to some well deserved head pats from you.

A bird popped out of his hair once during a headpat session and you were scared off of giving him head pats for a while in fear of having another tiny bird fly out from his hair. Jing Yuan was a sad man that day and would stop fucking pouting until Yanquing asked you to put him out of his misery and give Jing Yuan his head pats, he couldn’t train with a moody general who didn’t get his daily head pats.

Jing Yuan wasn’t afraid of giving out headpats of his own. He gave Yanquing a couple in the past but he used them sparingly. You however, you could have as many headpats as you’d like from him and Jing Yuan wouldn’t complain, especially not as he got the chance to watch you melt under his touch to the point you were practically cuddled into his side with a look of pure content written across your face.

So if he were to see that you weren’t having the best of days he’d immediately start giving you headpats in hopes of making you feel better. Jing Yuan’s logic was that seeing as how your headpats always helped make his day just that little bit brighter. Jing Yuan could only hope that he could pay it forward to you in a way that let you know that he would always have your back, always.

Aventurine leans into your hand as you give him head pats and closing his eyes as he enjoyed any amount of affection you decided to give him.

He needed this, he really did.

At first he was afraid of what the implication meant but now, he would practically sprawl himself across your lap and silently wait until you were done with what you were doing to give him some head pats, whining that you don’t pay enough attention to him.

He wasn’t use to such gentle, loving touch such as yours and now that he’s gotten a taste, he’s become addicted and would always find a way to get you to give him head pats no matter what. He would ask but Aventurine felt as though he was only worth them when he’s done something to earn such affection.

He viewed everything as a transaction and your headpats were no different.

Until you told him one day that he didn’t have to ever ask to receive love and affection, at least not with you and that you would gladly give him headpats just for waking up.

Aventurine cried that night in your arms as you gave him soft, comforting headpats.

Now aventurine demands headpats for practically everything but you didn’t mind as you were more than happy to spend hours on end if it meant spending time with your lover and reassuring him of your love for him. It heals apart of him that he didn’t know needed healing before, you heal him with your unwavering kindness and compassion and he didn’t know how the appropriate way to thank you, other then to give you some headpats himself.

Aventurine’s headpats were soft, gentle, Alamo as though he was scared he was going to hurt you but they were reassuring and encouraging at the same time that made you feel as though you could move mountains.

His headpats were like a silent ‘I love you’ for a singular reason.

He would pat your head three times and linger there for a couple of seconds then patting your head three more times before repeating this a couple more times, even going as far as to adding in a couple of kisses to your face in between. He loved hearing you laugh but he loved it when you shown signs of being comfortable, being safe with him as that was all he wants was to make you feel safe and happy with him because that’s how you made him feel on a daily basis.

Sunday finds your need to give him head pats amusing and will gladly let you do so to your hearts content if it brings you so much joy.

It doesn’t matter if he was busy because Sunday will always make room for you and you head pats no matter what, and will stress the importance to his staff that a specific time slot remains reserved for you and only you because your head pats were pure magic to the Halovian.

His wings would flutter softly and in time with your head pats that you couldn’t help but giggle at how cute the sight was as Sunday tries to get them to stop, but ultimately just accepts that his wings had a mind of their own when it came to you and how reciprocal they were to your touch.

He defiantly needs them after a hard days work and will most defiantly collapse on your lap, wings drooping like a pair of dog ears in tandem to express his exhaustion, and sigh as he felt you begin to softly pat his head.

‘You’ve done amazing today honey.’ You tell him.

‘Thank you my dearest but all I want to do now is relax with you if that’s quite alright with you.’ Sunday said tired and you couldn’t deny him when he was like this, and for the rest of the afternoon you spent cuddled up with Sunday and giving him head pats as his wings tried to match with the pace of your pats.

Sunday does reward you with headpats of your own but they may not come as frequently as you might like but you understood that he was a busy man, when you do get your headpats its mainly when you were on the brink of falling asleep, so often times it felt like a dream. Sunday wishes he could give you as many headpats as you’d like but giving you them while you were half asleep was for the best.

Bonus: when he’s cuddling you from behind, his wings will try and give you headpats but end up hitting the sides of your face, so somethings you’d wake up to a pair of soft grey wings softly smacking you first thing in the morning.

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Could you write an azrielxyoungestarcheronreader where they are mated and happy and everyone adores reader,and like azriel is a total simp for her and spoils her with clothes and books etc.like just fluff with azriel and his shadows being affectionate and over protective and poiling reader.?is it ok?

Little things

He loved it. The act of looking for little things you might enjoy. Thinking that would make you smile had been a newfound hobby of Azriel’s. He never really understood the act of gift-giving until he met you. But from the day he had brought you that multicolored seashell he randomly picked up from the beach he and Cassian had stopped to rest in, it all changed.

“Close your eyes”, Azriel couldn’t help but smile as he walked into the living room of his apartment where you had been reading while he finished his report. “Oh no…”, you sighed, resting your book to the side. “Come on, you’re acting as if I will harm you”, Azriel chuckled, keeping his hands behind his back. “I mean you did just spend two weeks with Cassian”, you pointed out, “How do I know that his antics didn’t rub off on you?” Azriel snorted, shaking his head. You had a point there but he had never taken ideas from Cassian. Well, not all of them at least.

“See, you aren’t saying no”, you pointed a finger at him. “You are panicking for no reason, my love”, Azriel tilted his head to the side but you only narrowed your eyes at him. He kept your gaze for a while before, giving in, “Okay, I take it back because this feels like I will be sleeping on the sofa for the next few days”. Now it’s you who throws your head back laughing. Making a smile break out on Azriel’s face as well.

“As if I would ever be so cruel”, you mused. You had been in the start. Order him like a lost puppy that day he refused to leave you alone. After you run out of the house after yet another fight with your sisters. But he stayed. He always chose you. “Come on hold your hands like that and close your eyes”, he motioned for you, and this time you followed his lead. “It’s heavy so don’t threaten”, he warned you. “Tell me that you didn’t bring me someone’s decapitated head”, you shrieked and Azriel let out a laugh so honestly and deep that it rattled the depths of your soul, “No, my love, that’s more up Amren’s street”.

And then you felt it. A pretty hefty object weighing your hands. You frowned. Moving one of the hands up to run over the top. Delicate engraved leather meets your fingers. “What is this?”, you muttered, keeping your eyes closed. “What do you think it is?”, Azriel asked and you could just hear the smugness in his tone. You let your fingers move around it. Till your hands brushed over the delicate pages. Your eyes snapped open in an instant. “No, you didn’t”, you breathed out. Big eyes looking up at your boyfriend. “I think, I did”, Azriel mused, brushing some of the hair away from your face. “You did not”, you gasped, flipping over the hardcover, “Where did you even find this?”

“Man never reveals his secrets”, Azriel smirked, eyes not leaving your glowing face. “You’re… this…”, you leaped into his arms, wrapped yourself around his neck as you covered his face in kisses. “Do I get boyfriend points?”, he chuckled, steadying you both. “A whole sea of points”, you breathed out, cupping his face. “You remembered”, you muttered feeling yourself getting emotional. “There’s not a single thing I could forget about you, my gorgeous girl”, Azriel stated firmly, leaning in to press his lips against yours.

[collapsingneutron]

Am I the only one who is deeply reminded of Tim Drake every time they see a John Mulaney comedy special?

If John Mulaney was 15 and looked 13, he'd be the prime actor to cast as Tim Drake. Because he has this cynical but boyish charm like he's a 50s professor trapped in a modern boy's body and very self-aware about it. He's seen some shit and done some shit, but he manages to look very put-together.

Here are some actual quotes from John's comedy specials that Tim Drake would totally say if he was writing his autobiography:

On Bruce Wayne:

Tim: Kids, you think your dad’s weird now? Wait for his dad to die. Then he goes on a whole quest.

He’ll wanna take more family pictures, but be angrier during them. “Can we get one photo where we all look nice?”

We’re like, “I don’t think this motherfucker’s doing that well.”

Tim: My dad never hit us. My dad is a lawyer and he was a debate team champion. So he would pick us apart psychologically.

Tim: He was a man most acquainted with misery. He could look at a child and guess the price of their coffin.

Tim: He didn’t want us to not get kidnapped. He wanted us to almost get kidnapped and then fight the guy off using weird, psych-out, back-room Chicago violence.

On being Robins:

Tim: This was always a very dramatic process – ’cause we were thirteen, we looked nine.

Tim: God, I guess they’re finally going to kill us all. All right. This is younger than I thought I would be but we are pretty big assholes.

Tim: I thought I was going to be murdered my entire childhood. In high school people were like, “What are your top three colleges?”

I was like, “Top three colleges? I thought I would be dead in a trunk with my hand hanging out of the taillight by now.”

On being 'the smartest Robin':

Tim: I don’t know what my body is for other than just taking my head from room to room.

Tim, to Bart: Here’s my plan, you and me get very dressed up, including hats, and then we wave handkerchiefs at it until it disappears over the horizon. 

On being Red Robin:

Tim: I was hoping, uh, by now that I would look older but that didn’t happen.

I don’t look older, I just look worse, I think. Honestly, when I’m walking down the street, no one’s ever like, “Hey, look at that man!” I think they’re just like “Whoa! That tall child looks terrible! Get some rest, tall child! You can’t keep burning the candle at both ends!”

On Gotham:

Tim: What a historic and beautiful and deeply haunted building this is. I keep walking through cold spots being like, “I wonder who that used to be.”

Tim: I was coming into my apartment building one night and I saw in front of my building a wheel chair, knocked in its side with no one in it. That’s a bad thing to see. Something happened there… you hope it was a miracle… but probably not… probably something worse.

On staying calm while Gotham is on fire:

Tim: I try to stay a little optimistic, even though I will admit, things are getting pretty sticky.

Tim: I’ll just keep all my emotions right here [points to heart] and then one day, I’ll die.

Tim: And by the way, part of me was like: “Whatever"… you know? You ever have those days where you’re like: “This might as well happen."

On Gotham Rogues:

Tim: He did not look like his job description. He looked like he should be the conductor on a locomotive powered by confetti. But, instead, he made his living in murder. 

On the fracturing of the Batfamily amidst Bruce's supposed death and Tim's search for him:

Tim: It was an intervention. For me. Interventions for me, are my least favorite kind of intervention.

Tim [searching for Bruce while Dick is Batman and Damian is his Robin]:

I, meanwhile, was loose in New York City, not doing well.

On his time with the League of Assassins and Ra's Al-Ghul's interest

Tim: Now, we don’t have time to unpack all of that. 

Tim: You’re all uncomfortable now, but I’m way over it.

On college:

Tim: I went to college. For the whole time. Holy shit, right? I just got a letter from my college, which was fun ’cause mail, you know? 

And they said… How did they phrase it? They said, “Give us some money!

“As a gift! We want a gift! But only if it’s money.” I found this peculiar.

I went to college, I was 18 years old, I looked like I was 11. I lived like a goddamn Ninja Turtle. I didn’t drink water the entire time.

Tim, at his first frat party: People were drinking like it was the civil war and a doctor was coming to saw our legs off.

Miscellaneous:

Tim, in an argument with Steph: That wasn’t what I was telling you, but alright, lets talk about this entirely new topic.

Tim, when asked if he's been up since yesterday: And I was like: “No” you know, like a liar.

Tim: I went into the room to get the massage and the woman there told me to undress to my comfort level. So I put on a sweater and a pair of corduroy pants, and I felt safe. 

Tim: Those were the choices — salad or fries, the two most different foods in the universe. That’s like saying, “What kinda day do you wanna have? Do you wanna be active and go to the bathroom and stuff, or do you wanna lay on the floor moaning?”

Tim, talking to Kon at 5AM: It was really easy to get away with murder before they knew about DNA. It was ridiculously easy. Like, what was even going on back then? What was a murder investigation like in 1935??

One cop would just walk in and be like, [speaks sharply with an old-timey accent] “Detective! We found a pool of the killer’s blood in that hallway!”

And he would just be like [low voice] “Hmmm… gross! Mop it up. Now then, back to my hunch… [holds chin with hand and looks around the floor] Hmmmmmm…. Look for clues. [stands up straight] I’ll tell you what we’ll do! We’ll draw chalk around the body. That way, [narrows eyes and looks side to side and speaks with a suspicious tone] we’ll know where it was…”

Tim, showing up to brunch at Denny's: Hope you don’t mind that I dressed up. It was my first communion today so I decided to come right from it.

Tim: I was sitting up in bed a few weeks ago like… [groans] You know, life. 

Tim: How did they find out about the inside zipper pocket? That pocket has eluded everyone in my life.

[roosterforme]

Covering the Classics Part 13 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: Confronting Kevin in California should have made Anna feel like she had the advantage, but nothing with him ever went to plan. As soon as Bob encounters Anna's husband for himself, he knows something isn't quite right.

Warnings: Angst, Kevin is a dick, bruises on Anna's arm, adult language, 18+

Length: 4300 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)

Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more!

"Did you delete her number yet?" Nat asked as she lifted her helmet and Bob's off of the shelf in the hangar where their gear was stored when they weren't flying. "Or are you trying to prolong the pain like some sort of sadistic artist?"

Bob flinched at her words, because she hit a little too close to home for his liking. It wasn't that he wanted to be missing Anna like this, but he had been writing a lot of poetry about her. He couldn't help himself. He hadn't posted any since the one about his bookshelf, but that didn't mean his computer wasn't full of it.

"I'm not trying to prolong the pain," he told his friend with a grimace. "I don't know what I'm doing."

She shoved his helmet down onto his head and told him, "I know she threw you for a loop, but either delete her number or give her another chance. Don't sit in this annoying gray area. I don't know why you guys insist on doing that shit. I tried for ten years to get Bradley to contact his wife, but he just flounced around in the gray area like an idiot instead. Don't be like him," she said firmly, pointing to where Bradley was looking down at his phone with a dopey smile on his face. He was almost definitely texting his wife if he looked like that.

Bob sighed. "Nat, I don't know if she wants me to give her another chance right now. She said she's going to deal with her husband, but I think she needs time."

Nat rolled her eyes and held her hands up in the air. "Why don't you," she said, waving her fingers like she was performing magic, "talk to her again?!"

Bob pulled his helmet off again, saying, "What would you suggest I say? She already knows I've had feelings for her for months. There's just a point where it becomes too much."

"You could tell her that even though it blew up in your face, she's the best lay of your life." Bob immediately wished he hadn't told her that. "Or that you'll still be around after she figures her shit out. I think the ball is in your court."

He was still blushing furiously and nowhere closer to knowing what he should be doing when they all got called to the tower, but he did smile when Nat snapped at Bradley to put his phone away. She probably needed to get laid more than Bob ever did.

---------------------------

The bus ride from San Diego to Carlsbad shouldn't take an hour and a half when it would take barely forty minutes to drive yourself. Not for the first time, Anna wished she had a car in California. That way she could get to Kevin faster. Kevin. Fucking Kevin. The man who was the reason she didn't have a car in California.

She needed to stay calm. If she could catch him while his guard was down and convince him to just sign the paperwork, she would be golden. But every time she thought about seeing his face, she started to panic. She had seen nothing except kind faces for months. The faces of her friends. The faces of her students. Bob's beautiful blue eyes always seemed to look at her with a smile behind them. Even now, after she met up with him for a little bit at the bookstore, his eyes were kind.

Her hands shook slightly. She needed to deal with Kevin so she could move on and never have to see him again. Then she could work on getting back to the people who didn't look at her like she was worthless. When the bus finally fought its way through traffic and made a stop near the hotel where the conference was being held, she sprinted down the steps and up the block. She had already memorized the map and knew she needed to find the grand ballroom, but when she got to the upscale hotel, she was sweaty and panting for breath, and even the doorman was looking at her skeptically as she slipped inside.

The lobby was crowded enough that she padded her way across the marble floor in her beat up sneakers, blending in well enough with the others. Signs for the National Neurological Physicians Association conference were plastered all over the place, and she had to keep from rolling her eyes. It was laughable that physicians from all over would come here to listen to Kevin blathering on and on about his specialty area of study. But when Anna paused to really think about it for a second, something close to cold fury started flowing through her veins, because she was the one who paid for that for him. She was the reason he was a speaker at this massive conference in the first place.

With renewed purpose, she picked up her pace and turned right past the elevator bank, following the signs that led her toward several people in monogrammed lab coats. The ballroom was in sight, and she was ready to push through the double doors when one of the men in a lab coat popped up in front of her. 

"Not so fast," he said, a forced smile plastered on his face. "You're late for the introductory speakers, and you haven't signed in yet."

"Oh," she said, scrambling to push her bag up on her shoulder. "Right." When he gestured toward a long table with some unclaimed name badges and information booklets, Anna's heart skipped a beat. She took a step closer, praying nobody would ask her for any sort of identification, and reached for the badge that said Dr. Angela Harmon, MD. She clipped it onto her shirt, realizing she was terribly under dressed to even try to pull this off, and then she picked up the booklet with Dr. Harmon's name on it as well. "Is this all I need?" she asked, tapping the name badge and praying this random woman didn't decide to show up right now.

With a nod, the man said, "Please try to find a seat at the back to keep disruption to a minimum. I believe Dr. Webber is still speaking, and you know how excited we all are to have him here."

Anna had to bite down on the inside of her cheek and take a deep breath before she could say, "So excited," through clenched teeth. "I wouldn't dream of being disruptive."

"Of course not," he agreed, finally smiling kindly. "Enjoy the conference, Dr. Harmon."

Carefully and as quietly as she could, Anna entered the ballroom to find hundreds of people sitting in rows of chairs listening to her worthless husband giving a presentation in a three piece suit. 

"But we already know recent attempts to update computational axial tomography are largely like someone trying to reinvent the wheel," he said with a charming smile, and the room hummed with amused laughter like everyone was in on some sort of inside joke. Anna's skin crawled as she carefully took a seat in the last row, praying Kevin hadn't seen her yet. If he was this well known and well regarded in his field, then he didn't need money from her manuscript. He was simply holding onto it to be an ass.

She had to listen to him for twenty more minutes after that. Nineteen too long in her book. His voice sounded light and carefree, and his smile was handsome and unassuming. Frankly he was putting on some sort of persona, and it was nothing like she was used to. But it wasn't until he started on a short presentation that Anna's attention was piqued, because it was then that she saw he was using the laptop that they used to share. The one she used to type up her book.

A soft sound escaped her as she stared longingly at it, wondering if her work was still there. He slammed the computer shut, and she was jolted back to reality as he said, "Once again, thank you all for being here for the next week. We have so many groundbreaking topics to learn about and some of the most renowned research physicians in the country sharing their expertise with us. Let's take a quick break and then dive right into new MRI techniques with Dr. Nunez."

There was an immediate round of applause, and Anna jumped to her feet, heart pounding so hard, it was making her nauseous. When she headed toward his cocky, smiling face, she realized Kevin was already surrounded by colleagues, shaking hands and laughing. And that was when he spotted her. They'd been on the phone just a handful of hours ago, but he looked shocked to see her here. She watched his sharp, gray eyes narrow in on her with a spiteful glare before he smoothed out his features into something neutral. And that's when she came to terms with the fact that he would know she was living in southern California. That's when she knew she needed to make this work.

"Anna," he said with absolutely no emotion as she cut in front of the person he was talking to. "What are you doing here?"

She swallowed hard, imagining Bob and her two friends were with her, urging her on, cheering for her to fix this. "I have something for you to sign," she told him as her voice shook. She took a step closer as she reached into her bag to pull out the folded paperwork and a pen.

"No," he practically growled under his breath, trying not to draw more attention to himself. "Why are you doing this here? I'm a little busy."

Anna wanted to laugh in his face. She was a little busy trying to get on with her stupid life, but that didn't stop him from disrupting her mission every day. "Just sign the divorce papers, Kevin," she demanded, but she sounded like a child even to her own ears. His eyes flashed with so much anger, she could barely breathe with him this close to her. He was built similarly to Bob, which was a frightening realization. Where Kevin always used his size as an intimidation tactic, Bob had never done that to her. She always felt safe around him. Right now she felt very unsafe around Kevin, even though they were literally in the midst of a crowd of people.

"Just sign it," she whispered, trying to push the document into his solid chest. It was unbelievable that at one time, she was in love with this man. It was crazy to think about how he used to tell her he loved her too. "Please, Kevin." He looked so angry right now, and Anna felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up in fear as the people behind her started whispering.

"Who is this woman? That's not Alyssa."

"Did she say divorce? Isn't he married to that other physician? The pregnant one?"

So Alyssa was pregnant. And nobody here even knew about Anna. It was like she didn't even exist. Like she had never existed to her husband. A mortifying little sob bubbled free from the back of her throat, and she looked up at Kevin as he said, "Let's take a little walk."

His hand closed around her bicep, and Anna wanted to yelp as he pulled her up onto the stage, past the podium, where nobody else would be able to hear them. The laptop was right there, and she considered trying to take it, but she'd never make it out of the hotel let alone back to her apartment with it. Instead she tripped along next to him until he had her where he wanted her.

"Are you out of your fucking mind?" he snarled. "Were you always this stupid? Or have you gotten worse?"

"Come on, Kevin," she pleaded, and he finally released her throbbing arm. "You don't need it. Look how well you're doing. You don't need my book."

He shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair as if he was trying his hardest to keep his composure. "You think you can come here and embarrass me in front of my peers? Mentioning our marriage like we still have one when you moved away?"

Her fist clenched at her side. "Our marriage didn't fall apart because I left," she hissed under her breath. "It fell apart because of you. And now your mistress is pregnant?"

Kevin sighed. "I understand that you're jealous, Anna. I really do, but I'm not signing anything for you."

She clenched and unclenched her fist. The desire to punch him in the face was so strong as her other hand shook with the papers grasped between her fingers. She was far from jealous, and he knew it. He wanted to get a rise out of her because he felt cornered. "I don't care what these people think about me," she whispered. "But you do. So just sign it."

He stood before her, tall and broad with his jaw set as he said, "There is no way in hell you have what it takes to intimidate me. Now get the fuck out of here, or I will have security remove you from the hotel for disrupting the conference."

She knew she didn't have any other choice. If she somehow got herself in trouble for being here, she didn't have the money to spend on more legal help. So she took a step backwards just as Kevin's hand flew up to pull the name badge from her shirt. "And you're obviously not Dr. Harmon. She has enormous tits, and I fucked her last year in Toronto. Now go." 

Twenty minutes later, Anna was back on the bus heading south toward San Diego, empty handed with tears in her eyes and a bruised arm.

-----------------------------

"What happened to your pretty girlfriend?"

Bob looked up from his phone as he walked up his porch steps after a long run on Monday evening. He hadn't been sleeping well, debating reaching out to Anna again, and he was hoping the run would tire him out. But he should have known Suzanne would have her door open and her game shows blaring at this hour.

"Hi, Suzanne," he said, wishing he could just duck inside his own place without having to chat with her.

"I haven't seen her again in weeks."

Bob sighed and tipped his head back. "She's not my girlfriend. She never was."

"Not with that attitude," his neighbor mused under her breath.

"You have a good night, Suzanne." Bob swatted Sylvester away from his front door before heading inside and up to take a shower. He thought about Anna as he ran his soapy hands along his body. He tried not to, but she was on his mind a lot. When he climbed into bed, his skin felt too hot. He opened the window to let the late fall air in, but it did nothing to help him. He wanted to see her, even just to make sure she was still okay.

He reached for his phone, typed up a text, and then deleted it. "You sound so desperate for her," he groaned, trying again. But again he had to delete it rather than send it. Finally he settled on something simple.

Hey, I've been craving some peanuts from Chippy's. Feel like joining me for a bit tomorrow?

It sounded neutral enough. If she said no, he'd ask Jessica to make sure the ladies were checking in on her. If she said yes, then Bob could see with his own eyes if she was okay. He would also get to see with his own eyes how fucking beautiful she was, but that didn't matter as much, honestly.

He was just slipping into a daydream where Anna's husband divorced her tomorrow and never left the state of New Jersey again when his phone vibrated on his nightstand.

Anna Webber: Peanuts from Chippy's sound heavenly right now. I would love to join you for a little bit.

He exhaled as the cooler air finally met his skin, and he pulled his sheet over himself after he promised to meet her there.

----------------------------

Before she went down to the quad with her lunch bag, Anna adjusted her cardigan. She knew her sleeve was covering his bruised arm, but she felt naked all morning during her lectures anyway. She felt like her skin and the inside of her brain were on full display for everyone. She wondered when Alyssa was due. She wondered if Kevin slept with Dr. Harmon when he was in Toronto last June or last October. Perhaps both. She wondered how someone who was so full of shit could keep coming out ahead of her.

"Anna!"

At least her friends were still faithfully waiting for her at the weird looking tree. And at least Bob was making it a point to let her know she was welcome around him. She could hardly wait to go to Chippy's later. 

"Hi," she said, plopping down in between them on the bench, adjusting her sleeve one more time before pulling her sad sandwich out. "What's new in the world of science and mathematics?"

Almost immediately, she had a container of veggies and a homemade ranch dip in her hand while her friend told her about a fascinating math conference she wanted to go to next year in Philadelphia. Apparently the dates were just announced, and you had to be someone important to even get an invitation. Anna loved that her friend already knew she was going to go, but it made her dwell on Kevin and his conference which was still going on in Carlsbad.

"Oh!" Jessica said as she poured some potato chips on her already delectable looking sandwich. "Jake and I are going to Cabo next month! A much needed break after the term ends."

"I love that for you," Anna told her, feeling jealous in spite of herself. And that made her feel even sadder. She almost winced when her other friend wrapped her arm around her, inadvertently mashing her hand against the bruise from Kevin.

"Don't worry. Bradley and I aren't going anywhere for term break. I wanted to, but his favorite Grateful Dead cover band is playing right here in San Diego on New Year's Eve, and he absolutely can't miss it. That would be a crime." Her voice was dripping with sarcasm which made Anna laugh. "How's your week going?" she asked cautiously. 

Anna wanted to tell them all about going to the conference at the hotel. She wanted to tell them that she saw Kevin and left with less than nothing. She would tell them, but not right now when she only had a little bit of time before she had to give her Classics lecture. She didn't want to run the risk of arriving to the lecture hall with tears in her eyes. 

Instead she softly said, "I'm going to see Bob later. Just a quick visit to Chippy's for some peanuts."

Jessica was instantly vibrating with excitement. "That's great. I think you and he will have fun!"

"We will," Anna confirmed. Even though it was a little awkward, she'd had a nice time with him at the bookstore. She always did. Because he was kind and sweet and literally the opposite of everything that Kevin turned out to be. She just wished there was some reality in which she could feel his arms around her again. "We will."

The end of lunch came way more quickly than she wanted it to, and Anna found herself mentally regrouping to try to find another way to get her manuscript. She taught her last two lectures and graded a handful of essays, counting down the minutes until she could see Bob again. His blue eyes would be soft when he looked at her, and his words would be enough to make her feel better even if they only engaged in some small talk.

When she only had thirty minutes until she was supposed to meet him, she printed off sixty copies of the quiz she would need for tomorrow afternoon. Anna locked her office door behind her as she headed down to the teacher's lounge to retrieve the quizzes before someone moved them, never to be seen again. She learned her lesson after last time that if you didn't grab them right away, there was a good chance they'd end up in the trash. Then she would drop them off before going to meet Bob.

----------------------------

Since he was running early, Bob decided to just head to Anna's office and meet her there. He'd been so antsy to see her, he showered and dressed in his favorite jeans and tee shirt in record time after work. Even though he'd only been in this one academic building one time, he remembered exactly how to get to her office. Having an outstanding sense of direction just came with the territory for a WSO, but her hallway also smelled like fresh baked bread.

When he rounded the last corner, Bob skidded to a halt and ducked back behind the wall. There was a man about his age who was vigorously jiggling Anna's doorknob. "Anna. Open the door so we can talk," he said calmly even as he pushed his fingers through his hair in exasperation. Bob didn't know who he was, but he had a bad feeling, and that's when the man turned his head and spotted him.

Bob squared his shoulders to try to match the other man's height as he rounded the corner completely and asked, "Are you looking for Dr. Webber?"

The other man appraised him with cool gray eyes and smirked. "Let me guess. You're sleeping with her?"

Bob's heart lurched into his stomach as the color drained from his face. He knew this had to be Kevin. He knew it without confirmation, and now he didn't know how the hell he was supposed to respond. So he simply kept his mouth shut while the other man took a step in his direction.

"She really likes to act so high and mighty. Very hypocritical in this scenario," he muttered, making Bob's skin crawl. "I can't believe her."

Bob swallowed hard, trying to figure out why Anna agreed to go to Chippy's today if she knew Kevin was in San Diego. All he knew about was what she'd told him when she came to his house. Bob didn't think he should divulge too much to this man, so he simply asked, "What do you want from her?"

The answer was swift and felt like a punch to the gut. "She's my wife, and she's coming back to New Jersey with me where I can keep track of her. She doesn't belong here, and she needs to stop lying. So why don't you tell me what you want from her?"

His nostrils flared as his fingers curled into fists, and Bob had to take a few deep breaths before he said, "I just wanted to make sure she's okay."

Kevin crossed his arms over his chest and said, "She's nothing you need to be concerned about."

The uneasy feeling that started to fill him up spread through his whole body now, and Bob took a step backwards. Maybe Anna was already at Chippy's. Maybe she didn't know Kevin was here at all. He backtracked his way through the building as he started to panic. What if she did know he was here? What if she had played Bob and everyone else the whole time?

He would check for her at Chippy's. He made it all the way across the quad to a weird looking tree that was growing sideways when he froze again. It just didn't make sense. Anna said she hated Kevin and never wanted to go back to New Jersey, and Bob had no reason to believe someone else over her.

He started calling her phone, torn as to which direction he should head. Back up to her office? To Chippy's where they were supposed to meet up? She didn't answer. He started toward the bar, covering the few blocks at a brisk pace as he tried to call her again. He walked back and forth across that sticky floor through the clusters of students enjoying an after class drink before he was satisfied that she wasn't there. 

"Damn it, Anna. Answer your phone," he muttered as he ran back to her building and up to her office. The building was virtually empty at this hour, and now there was nobody in the hallway at all. He knocked on her door and called out her name, but he was met with silence. The kind of silence that just didn't feel right.

He felt like he was going crazy, running in circles both metaphorically and physically for this woman, and when he finally reached his truck, he had to wipe the sweat from his brow. Her apartment wasn't far from campus, and he didn't know where else to even look at this point. When he got there, he parked and tried to call her one more time before someone else who lived in the building simply held the door open for him.

"Thanks," he muttered, heading for the stairwell and taking the steps two at a time until he reached Anna's floor. And then her apartment. What he heard coming from inside made him want to rip the door from the hinges.

--------------------------

I hate Kevin. Hate. Him. I'm sorry, but he's still going to get worse. Just remember that Bob is a sweet cinnamon bun. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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[cursedvida]

OMG! That picture! Freya and Owen look so intense together, just imagine if it had been with Noa's image!

By the looks of it, it is when they are saying goodbye to each other. Who do you think hugged first? At first, I thought Noa would initiate the hug, but also, it could have been Mae after receiving the necklace, and in an emotional moment, she embraces him?! Then they look into each other's eyes only for Mae to realize what is going on and then walks abruptly away, and Noa is just left more confused than ever.

It's hard to know what was happening because both Wes and Freya mentioned that they filmed an ending where Mae actually pointed the gun at Noa but then couldn't do anything. If this scene of them half-hugging happened there, how did they get to that moment? Or maybe it's another ending that was filmed and never shown? The only thing I can think of is that in that emotionally charged ending where she tried to shoot him but then had a breakdown realizing she couldn't, maybe it ended with her having a sort of catharsis by hugging him. That's the only plausible explanation to me because apes don't hug like that, that display of affection is human, so it fits better with the context. But who knows, I NEED TO KNOW, I NEED THOSE EXTRA SCENES THAT WEREN'T IN THE MOVIE, IT'S A NECESSITY.

[shitouttabuck]

the same damn thing that made my heart surrender

buck/eddie | 1.4k | t

It’s quiet and late at the station, so Eddie can very clearly hear Buck dragging his feet across the loft from the kitchen to the couch, the sound such a specific combination of distracted and perturbed he already knows to expect the little crease between his eyebrows when he finally flings himself down beside Eddie.

“Ugh,” he says, frowning at his phone as he scrolls what seems to be Instagram.

Eddie hums indulgently, not taking his eyes off the newspaper crossword he pilfered from Hen earlier.

“Ugh,” Buck says again, much more pointed and with an additional nudge to Eddie’s shoulder.

“I’m listening. What, Buck.”

“Ever since that barbecue at Bobby and Athena’s last weekend I’ve been getting the weirdest targeted ads on my Insta,” he pouts, scrolling some more.

“Weird how?” Five letter word for estrangement, ending with T.

Buck huffs and turns on the couch to face Eddie, lifting one leg up onto the cushion and folding it under himself.

“Well, May was introducing me to her college roommate—who, by the way, was giving off way more than just roommate vibes, did you notice? Like, they were acting real cozy and she kept—never mind, sorry, not the point, what I was saying was she borrowed my phone to look up something in one of those online stores, I don’t know, I guess they’re trying to decorate their apartment with a specific aesthetic? Either way, ever since then the Instagram algorithm seems to think that I want to see—” He stops scrolling, lifting his phone and thrusting it emphatically in Eddie’s face, “—shit like this.”

Eddie blinks at the proximity of the bright screen to his face, putting down his pencil to gently move Buck’s hand back a bit so he can see properly.

On the screen is an ad for… a pale blue babydoll tee with the word BRAT screenprinted across the chest in curly pink letters.

Eddie blinks again, mind blissfully empty of synapses firing until Buck says, “See? Why does my phone think this is something I would be interested in purchasing. I mean, can you imagine?”

Eddie can. Eddie can imagine. But dear God, Eddie does not want to imagine. Because now the synapses are firing like some kind of mental train derailment of catastrophic proportions, and Eddie’s mind is conjuring images of Buck, his best friend Buck, squeezed into this skin-tight cotton tee, already tailored to be snug-fitted on much smaller bodies and so nothing short of straining at every seam when met with the bulge of Buck’s biceps, the graphic logo proclaiming BRAT probably distorted across his broad, meaty chest.

“There’s more,” Buck’s telling him, scrolling again. “Like, look at this.”

He stops on a post that seems to be selling tiny red booty shorts, the words SAVE A HORSE, RIDE A COWBOY emblazoned on the ass.

“I can’t wear shorts this short, my junk would fall out,” Buck grumbles to himself, scrolling once more for probably yet another advertisement whose only targeted goal is to ruin Eddie’s life, selling of wares be damned.

“I’m pretty sure those are women’s shorts,” Eddie says weakly, not thinking about Buck’s perky bubble butt clad in two-inch inseam booty shorts. Definitely not thinking about Buck disgruntledly tucking his dick so not to commit an act of public indecency—more so than the very donning of the shorts would count.

“Well, why doesn’t my algorithm know I’m a dude yet? If I’m being advertised this shit, at least let it be stuff I could plausibly buy for myself, you know?”

Eddie hums, only a little strangled. “So, you’d, uh, buy those shorts if they sold them in men’s sizes?”

Buck ignores him in favour of thrusting his phone at him again. “Look! This one and the next, keep scrolling.”

Eddie takes the phone from him, squinting at it. The first is another skin-tight babydoll tee, with the words GOOD GIRLS printed across the tits and the image of a swooping bird below.

“I don’t get it,” Eddie says, pausing over the post. “Good girls like birdwatching?”

Buck snorts, tips of his ears turning a little pink. “It’s a swallow.”

“Oh,” Eddie says. Then, “Oh.”

He scrolls to the next post as instructed. This one is a white t-shirt that says DON’T BULLY ME, I’LL CUM in red lettering, which—

“I’m either learning some—unforgettable things about you or about May, and honest to God, gun to my head, I don’t know which is worse,” he says faintly, tapping to the next post.

“Shut up, it’s not that fucking literal,” Buck grumbles, settling against the couch cushion more comfortably and watching Eddie scroll. “She was probably looking at some trendy Gen Z homeware or whatever and the algorithm saw the website and ran with it.”

“Mm, and you only started getting these ads after the barbecue? None of this is—your own digital footprint coming back to bite you in the ass?” Eddie grins as he passes a sponsored post for a vibrator brand.

“My digital footprint is not reflective of my sex life,” Buck huffs. “It’s not wrong, but it’s not—why the hell would I buy a tiny woman’s shirt that says BRAT across the chest?”

“Maybe because you—wait, it’s not wrong?” Once again, Eddie’s neurons stutter to an unexpected and horny stop. On the screen of Buck’s phone, his finger has halted over an ad for… jumbo-packs of lube, of all things. Eddie clears his throat. “Ooh, scandalous.”

“What?” Buck makes grabby hands for his phone.

Eddie passes it to him. “May really did mess up your algorithm. Also, I don’t know how I’m gonna look her in the eye at the next party.”

“Oh, uh,” Buck says, looking at the screen before turning off his phone. “No, that’s just. That’s just me, I think.”

Eddie wonders if his brain starting and stopping so frequently can result in permanent brain damage. He’s not sure he cares, because the resulting mental pictures—okay, some of that’s off-limits, always has been. Loving your best friend and respecting your best friend are not mutually exclusive, except, as it turns out, when you’re faced with the reminder that your best friend is having marathon anal sex with his—boyfriend, partner, whatever it is that Tommy is to him. Enough athletic and enthusiastic fucking to be getting ads for bulk-order lube on motherfucking Instagram.

He wonders if Tommy calls him that, calls him a brat and tells him he’s a good girl when he—

Wonders if Buck does like being bullied a little in bed—just teasing, Eddie would never—except it’s not Eddie, Eddie’s not involved in Buck’s love life, and what Eddie does need to do is shut down this line of thought before his strategically placed newspaper fails to hide that he’s half-hard at the thought of Buck in these ridiculously sexual innuendo themed women’s clothes.

“You’re not gonna finish that?” Buck nods to the folded crossword in his lap.

Eddie sucks in a breath through his teeth. “Uh. Sure.” He tilts the paper toward Buck, unwilling to hand it over completely. “Five letter for estrangement, ending in—”

“Split,” Buck says, nodding at the paper. “It’d fit with the P from apprise in ten down.”

“Oh,” Eddie peers at the crossword. “Yeah, it does. Thanks.”

“No problem. I’ve, uh. I’ve been thinking about it.”

“About estrangement?” Eddie asks distractedly, filling in the letters. “Four letter word for just around the corner?”

Buck fidgets beside him. “About—splitting. Specifically—me and Tommy?”

Eddie looks up at him so fast he nearly gets whiplash. His grip on the pencil falters, and it skitters across the loft floor.

“That’s—not true. We’ve already—a week or so ago. We’re still friends, don’t worry,” Buck rushes to tell him. “He just realised, like, with you and me—well, I guess he knew the whole time, but I just realised—the way that you and I—the way that it’s us—c’mon, Eddie.”

“What?” Eddie manages, hoarser than he’s heard himself before.

“Eddie.”

“What’re you saying, Buck?”

“Are you gonna make me spell it out?” Buck sighs. “If I got a pair of red booty shorts that spelled SAVE A FIRE ENGINE, RIDE A FIREFIGHTER across the ass, would that work?”

“Tommy’s a firefighter,” Eddie says weakly.

“Oh, fucking hell,” Buck mutters under his breath. “Fine, if they said SAVE A FIRE ENGINE, RIDE A FIREFIGHTER WHO ALSO HAPPENS TO BE YOUR BEST FRIEND AND PARTNER, would it work then?”

“That’s a lot of writing,” Eddie says, voice still faint. “You don’t have the real estate in the rear for all that.”

When Buck kisses him, exasperated groan crushed into Eddie’s mouth, Eddie knows this is the rest of it—the rest of knowing him entirely: real, endless, and with a convenient standing order for bulk-packaged lube without involving any nosy algorithms.

“Four letter word for just around the corner. Near. Soon. This.”

[cobaltperun]

Genius (8) - R U Mine

Cairo Sweet x female (G!P) Reader

Summary: It was such a cliché, a reunion she didn’t expect to ever happen, let alone six years after she last saw you. It was supposed to mean nothing, a bit of nostalgia, maybe a brief catching up while waiting for class, it was supposed to be a small wave of nostalgia, not a tsunami that disrupted her entire life. You were her opposite, and as hard as she tried she couldn’t resist your pull.

Story masterlist / First part / Previous Part

Word count: 2.5k

-And I can't help myself all I wanna ever say is, "Are you mine?"-

She really should have started writing her assignment, just so she could get it over with as soon as possible, but somehow, she just wanted to stay right where she was right now. In her bedroom, lying on her bed, engulfed in warm, soft blankets and your arms around her waist as she snuggled with you. It’s been a while since she relaxed like this, now, she wasn’t a morning person, but she rarely spent her free mornings in bed.

“What’s on your mind?” you asked her softly and kissed the top of her head. She straddled you and sat up with a teasing smirk on her face.

“How dare you be so gentle now? After you rocked my world last night?” she poked your chest jokingly.

You pressed a finger on your chin and looked up, acting as if you were in deep thought, the entire act completed with a soft hum. “Good point, good point, I don’t think you minded it thought,” you grinned, way too happy with what you did to her and for a moment she wondered how quickly could she get you hard and just leave you hanging.

Eh, that was a bit too cruel. Besides, you were right, though she wouldn’t admit it right now. In the throes of passion, yeah, absolutely, now that she was just cuddling with you, no, no way in hell would she admit how much you affected her.

“I’ll never say it,” she teased you, leaning down to kiss you.

You wouldn’t open your mouth for her though, and instead cupped her cheek and went for a more gentle, innocent kiss.

“I have your letter, it’s all the proof I need,” you laughed and well, she did confess how much she wanted you in the letter.

“I’ll burn it,” Cairo countered, not yet ready to admit her loss.

“You read it to me, I won’t forget it,” you had a point there, she had to admit that.

Well, she still had a way out, at least she hoped. “I’ll fill your brain with so many even dirtier thoughts you’ll have to forget it,” she whispered it in your ear, enjoying how sharply you inhaled at that.

Your pupils dilated as you looked her in her eyes, and she was sure her own eyes weren’t any less filled with desire and love she felt right now. She wasn’t ready to say it to you, that what she felt went above and beyond high school love, that she felt the madman’s love, and that she knew her feelings were returned. She felt it yesterday, she felt it as you took her, as the two of you burnt up in your emotions, all the desire and lust and need. She found it in you, the ruins of a friendship being rebuilt into the love that felt so right, that felt as if it was tailor-made just for her.

Maybe it was.

“Cairo,” her name rolled off your tongue so smoothly and she wanted to hear you say it more, she wanted to hear you say it ten years from now, twenty years from now, fifty years from now, with that same intensity and love in your voice. “What was on your mind?” you demanded, and she was at a loss on what to tell you.

“Us, this morning, yesterday, so many things at once. I just feel happy, I feel loved for the first time in a long time, maybe in my entire life,” she pressed her finger on your lips when you tried to speak up. “You asked why I pushed you away when we were kids, well,” she paused, moving from your lap and lying back down next to you. Her arms wrapped around you as she held onto you, knowing you wouldn’t disappear on her, but still needing to make sure.

“I wanted my parents to love me,” she began, knowing how confusing it must have sounded. “You remember how they were, right? Distant, uninterested, yet with high expectations,” she told you and felt, more than saw, you nodding. “I got a C on that test, remember? The one where only you and I got Cs and more than two thirds of the class failed?”

“I remember,” you told her, and she could tell you weren’t done. “If it was some other test I would have forgotten it, I can’t even remember if it was my first C or not, but I lost you right after it, and it just remained stuck in my memory,” you sighed, tightening your hold on her as you likely remembered how your next conversation went.

“They were disappointed, yelled all night, and I thought I’d make them happier is I stopped ‘wasting time’ as they put it,” she paused, buried her face in your neck and waited for your response.

“And one of those was the time you spent playing with me,” you said what she couldn’t and she just nodded.

“I thought if I did even better, if I never made any mistakes, if I was their perfect daughter, that they would love me more. They still pretend I don’t exist, like I’m the biggest mistake they ever made,” that was at the core of everything she did, she figured. Craving madman’s love, a love so strong it would consume her entirely, because she’s never been given the unconditional love of her parents she heard and read so much about. Perhaps, looking at it now that she was no longer trying to seduce him, she went after Miller’s love for that reason as well. Because deep down she felt like she needed validation from someone older, someone old enough to be her parent. Sure, Winnie’s talk pushed her toward Miller, but deep down, the key push was likely related to never feeling love from her parents. “I had you, and I gave you up for something I couldn’t ever gain,” she sighed, angry at herself for ever thinking that, for ever giving you up.

“Your parents are a special kind of fucked up,” you sounded angry, and though she knew any anger you may be feeling was directed at her parents she still worried some of it was reserved for her. “You have me now, we’re together, we’ll make up for the lost time,” you assured her as you gently rubbed circles on her back.

“I guess you would have left anyway, since your parents moved,” that was something that brought her some comfort, though it felt so hollow. “Right?” your silence made her prop herself up to look you in the eyes and the uncomfortable look on your face was enough even without your confirmation. “Y/N?”

“Not quite. I could have stayed, I just, had no reason to. And I could have come back two years ago as well,” you confessed, not wanting to lie to her, and she just looked down, processing the information as you sat up and pulled her onto your lap. “Cairo, listen to me,” you brushed her hair back, “Don’t get stuck on what-ifs, things worked out, and maybe they wouldn’t have if we stayed as best friends.”

It was a valid point, but at the same time, the fact that she was the one who gave you the reason to leave by not being your reason to stay hurt. She never considered that your departure could have been avoided, but then again, she never cared to learn more about the circumstances behind your parents moving. Maybe one of them could have stayed with you, or maybe they could have paid for someone else to make sure you were taken care of, they certainly had enough money to do what Cairo’s parents did.

It was also true that the past six years shaped both of you. Nothing proved that as much as how long it took her to recognize you when she first sat down next to you. Hell, she failed to recognize you in the hall, not that she paid much attention to you, even after Winnie said your name, she brushed it off as coincidence, as universe playing a cruel joke by reminding her of you.

In the end, you were right, thinking about what-ifs wasn’t helping either of you. “I still wish I didn’t push you away, I was stubborn, and then I was scared you were angry at me,” there, you had all the pieces of the puzzle.

“I knew you were stubborn, I guess I wanted you to come to me, we were children, immature, not realizing it didn’t matter how we made up didn’t matter as much as making up itself,” you understood, you weren’t angry at her, you accepted everything she said, and Cairo felt the weight she carried for so long being erased. She felt lighter, she felt even more loved.

“Are you mine?” she asked, bringing her lips closer to yours.

“I am,” you closed the distance and kissed her.

And there, with your lips dancing with hers, with your hands resting on her sides and her own holding you close to her, she did her best to convey, through her kiss, through her touch, to her soft moans into the kiss, that she was yours as well.

~X~

“Never fear, Winnie is here!” resounded through the mansion as you cleaned your helmet in Cairo’s living room to the soft tunes of Celine Dion playing in the background. Your helmet got really dirty, the mud and the rain didn’t do it any good, that was for sure, and you were surprised it wasn’t scratched, considering Cairo tossed it aside yesterday.

“That is exactly what I fear,” Cairo teased as she came into the living room just as Winnie barged in with the most flamboyant outfit you saw on her thus far. She had the bright sunglasses on, even though she was inside Cairo’s house, her skirt was longer, though still above her knees and it flowed a bit as she moved, but that was nothing compared to the flashy coat she had on, hanging from her shoulders as the sleeves magically flowed behind her back. Her shirt was so bright you wondered if you should go grab some sunglasses as well and she had several bags in her hands.

“Don’t tell me, there’s a secret government organization after you and this was your only disguise,” you grinned a bit when she raised her sunglasses and looked through the window.

“I lost her, for now,” she laughed, dropping down on the sofa close to you. “And it’s even worse than secret organization. It’s my art teacher, and I’m late for her assignment,” she cackled, tossing one of the bags toward you while you still had the helmet in your hands.

“Wait!” you yelled helplessly and fumbled a bit, but still managed to catch it.

“So that’s why I can’t see your underwear,” Cairo teased and sat down next to you.

“I’ll show it to you if it’ll get me a threesome,” Winnie tossed the second bag to Cairo and then took her sunglasses off.

Cairo rolled her eyes. “I’m not sharing,” she took out her chicken biscuits as you checked the content of your own bag and saw it was the same thing.

“Baby, you’d be shared,” Winnie said it so casually you nearly choked on the chicken you were chewing.

Cairo glanced at you and hummed. “You don’t know what I know,” and now you definitely choked, and she had to pat you on the back.

Winnie raised an eyebrow. “Share the spoils, also, that was quick, I didn’t think you’d lose your virginity before me, yet here we are,” the girl had no filter whatsoever.

“Not one word,” you warned Cairo as you tried to clear your throat and get rid of the awful feeling of nearly choking on food.

“And here I brought you lunch,” Winnie teased you and you just had to wonder how Cairo managed to deal with all the teasing, because, damn, the girl didn’t hold back. “Did you know Cairo dreamt about you? Like, way before you came back?”

Now it was Cairo’s turn to nearly choke. “Winnie!” she cried out, blushing furiously as her secret was revealed.

You just grinned and nudged her with your elbow. “Oh, you’ll never hear the end of this,” you promised her, and you decided you’d do everything in your power to get the details out of her.

“I’ll never tell you,” Cairo knew exactly what was going through your mind.

“Wanna bet?” you smirked and leaned over to Winnie. “Say, you’ve been her best friend these past four years. Give me some advantage here,” you nearly laughed at how betrayed Cairo looked at the moment.

Winnie raised her hand to her lips and pretended she was whispering, though Cairo heard everything loud and clear. “You could fuck her on your bike, or hear me out, reenact one of the smutty scenes she loves to read so much in return for the details,” she suggested. “I’m not sure how you’ll fill her with cum, but I’m sure she’ll be satisfied with 95 percent accuracy.”

Cairo glared at both of you. “She won’t have issues with filling me up,” she immediately got her revenge, and you watched as Winnie glanced down and then up to your face. “Yes,” Cairo confirmed it before Winnie could ask.

“So,” Winnie paused for a moment to clear her throat. “About that threesome,” she just laughed when Cairo threw a paper bag at her.

“I’ll go and get something sweet,” Cairo grumbled as she stood up and went toward her kitchen.

“You sure we can’t share you?” Winnie cackled when all she got as a response was a middle finger. “She’s happy, you know,” she suddenly told you and smiled, an actual, honest, no teasing whatsoever smile softened her face.

You tilted your head, not sure how she got that from this interaction.

“You still have some catching up to do, but she likely isn’t as open and relaxed as she was when you were kids. She’s absurdly stiff, and sure, she laughs, and smiles, but she’s just radiating from how happy she is right now. You see her, you love her, and she’s wanted that for so long, to be loved by someone who can take her loneliness away and take her away from here when she can’t do it for herself,” Winnie explained to you, and though she didn’t say it, you dared to think she left one bit unsaid, the part likely going along the lines: ‘you did something I couldn’t,’ because you saw just how much Winnie cared about Cairo, and you were thankful for that.

“I’ll get up to speed, I want to make her as happy as I possibly can,” you said, looking toward the kitchen. And you’d do just that, you’d do absolutely everything in your power to make sure she never felt lonely again.

A/N: How do I put this. Enjoy the happy times! We’re entering a bit of a angst part from the last third of the next chapter… Four chapters to go though!

Taglist: @deimaisgail @bee-keeping @marvelous-disaster @jmwetterlund @tekanparadiae

@alexkolax @ioveyouyouloveme @aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh @autorasexy @lifeforsimp13

@puta1 @minnyyminny

[cute-sucker]

note: this is an unofficial part 2 of this boxer!rafe and his sweetheart <3

˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.

boxer!rafe can't stop thinking about you pregnant, and some would say he got more protective when you did get pregnant.

you weren't showing yet, but he was always keeping a watchful eye on you, protective hand wandering to your midsection.

after the scare you gave him at the games, he watched you all the time, willfully bringing home more food than was needed, feeling willing to come back home when he heard your whines through the phone, and buying you the most beautiful sundresses ever.

sometimes the two of you would spend more time together, looking out the balcony as he smoked a cigarette, and you looked outside with a dazed expression, hand stroking your stomach. he watched the way your nose wrinkled when a trendil of smoke reached your nose.

you made a screwed face, and then looked back at rafe with a pointed look, "i don't like that."

the next day all the cigarettes in your house were gone, and he went back to boxing. it was sweet the way your small proclamation could command him to do anything. sometimes you couldn't help but test it. test how much he loved you, and how willing he was go to. you knew it was bad the way you were acting, but you ached for the attention.

so it was all to plan when you woke up craving a burger.

not just any burger. it needed to be homemade, or even one of the burgers that Rafe had made you during your first date. you remember it so clearly, the way his hand scimmed past your back as he helped you chop the cucumbers, a soft hand twirling a tendril of your hair.

it was all in your head, and suddenly you needed the burger with your life. you were pawing at his chest, soft whines leaving your mouth. he woke suddenly, taking a deep inhale of air.

"what's wrong?" he muttered, words slurred with sleep. you couldn't feel but feel bad as you pouted at him. you were wearing a pretty nightgown with a bow at the top. you watched him scan your swollen body.

you were pulling all the routes as you lowered your voice, "i need a burger."

he looked at you incredulously, eyebrows raised putting his rough hand on your shoulder, "right now?"

you frowned, before rubbing your stomach, "yes."

he groaned, falling back to head head first. you bit your tongue to stop giggles from spilling out of your mouth. he was so soft with you now, and you knew that months ago he would never act like this. but you couldn't help but tug at his arm as a grunt fell from his mouth.

"do you really need it, mama?"

now you couldn't stop your smile. you loved it when he called you 'mama,' and you loved the gentle tilt of his mouth when he called you that. and you rested your head back, nodding. finally, he gave an annoyed sigh before getting out of bed.

"goddamn it," he groaned, pulling a cleaner shirt up his head. you rested at his feet watching him put on his clothes. there was something so domestic about the whole scenario. tanyhilll was full of pictures of the two of you, small pieces of the two of you.

finally, as if he realised you were watching him, he scowled looking at you. still in your nightgown with a frenzied look on your face, he seemed to sigh again.

"ah, don't you think you should change?" he murmured, hands skimming over your top. you melted at his touch, practically hopping into his lap with eagerness. he let out a laugh before gently pushing you away, "listen. you gotta change out of that. can't have you looking like that."

you gave him a cheeky smile as if it was the middle of the day instead of three in the morning. somehow you found increasing amounts of energy and rafe was always confused about how you did it all.

"look like what?"

he shook his head, eyes flashing with slight annoyance, "nah. 'm not doing that today. get up bun, 'n go change."

although he sounded demanding you couldn't help but feel your heart drum harder at his words, biting your lip as you pulled on one of his old sweatshirts.

that night you got your burger, and he got you.

please let me know if you'd like to added to the boxer!rafe taglist!!

[knavesflames]

hiii I really really love your writing and i just read your post about insecure reader x arlecchino ! 🫶 i was wondering if you would be willing to write something similar but with a reader insecure about the opposite, being too feminine/curvy like having wide hips, a tummy and big thighs, it's ok if not tho, thank you for reading 💗

Of course!! As a curvy gal myself I can resonate with this HARD. There aren’t super many who write curvy reader (and the ones who do slay, btw) so I am more than happy to write this. I’ve actually been excited for this ever since I received this ask.

Contents: insecure curvy reader, arlecchino being arlecchino, fluff with a hint of sadness sprinkled in

Word count: 1120

Writing utc!

Having dragged Arlecchino along to a lunch with your friends, you’d think you’d be happier than you are right now. Arlecchino is not like your friends in the slightest, them laughing and talking loudly with playful slaps on each other's arm as they melt in hysterical laughter. You suppose that is why Arlecchino zeroes in you and your behaviour now. Arlecchino is usually the quiet one, cracking a small smirk at a joke or huffing in laughter occasionally, you being the bridge between hysterically happy and Arlecchino’s level of calm. And yet, there you sit, poking the small salad leaves with your fork, a miserable expression on your face.

She frowns, glancing over at the plates of your friends. Pasta, focaccia, a burger.. why on earth do you have a salad? One that doesn’t even look good, of all things. Her foot moves to nudge you under the table.

“Eat. There is almost nothing on your plate and you look miserable. Shall I go and order more for you?”

You’re quick to deny her offer, a little too quick for Arlecchino’s liking, if she’s honest. She watches you for the rest of the lunch, watching how you smile and say you’re too stuffed to get dessert. She gives you a pointed look when you say that. She says nothing, but somehow you know that she’s not about to let this go.

You both walk home at a leisurely pace in comfortable silence. Feeling the slightest of breezes against your skin and listening to the afternoon birds chirping relaxes you, and it’s always a pleasure to walk through the town. Arlecchino’s arm snakes around you, resting gently on your hip. A silent gesture, but one she does often, one you usually enjoy.

“Don’t.”

The word pierces through the air as you shrug her arm off, continuing to walk in silence. Her eyes focus on you again, your face holding the same miserable look, like you’re about to burst into tears. Her brow creases and she folds her arms over her chest, her tone almost accusatory. Almost.

“What has gotten into you, love? You do not wish for my touch, you did not eat, you lied to your friends.”

“No—“

“If you say “nothing”, I swear to the Tsaritsa I will sit you down and not let you move until you tell me.”

You both walk the rest of the way home in tense silence, her words simmering. You know she isn’t joking, she would. She has done it once before, and it was the longest hour of your life. Of course, she only means well, but sometimes her ways of showing it can be a little.. tricky. You’re home before long, sliding the keys into the door and shutting it with a small click. You know you have approximately five seconds before—

“Tell me. You have not eaten except about five salad leaves, it is 4pm, your clothes are unusually baggy for your taste. Unless you plan on turning into a rabbit, you will tell me what is going on inside that pretty little head of yours.”

Her stare is unwavering, piercing through you in a way that would make anyone shudder and run away. You are not afraid, you know how soft she really is, at least around you, but you know you can’t put off telling her any longer.

“They are smaller than I am.”

“What? You are slightly taller than them, yes. What is wrong with that?”

“No. Not like that. They’re just.. smaller. Smaller breasts, smaller hips, smaller thighs. I don’t understand why I have to be this way.”

You mutter, gesturing to your body, hidden under the clothes. They are indeed baggy, chosen quickly when you glanced at yourself in the mirror this morning. She is silent for a while, clearly pondering. Arlecchino has a tendency to be blunt, a little too blunt, and it’s obvious she’s trying to soften her words.

“That is true. That does not make you any less beautiful. You are very feminine. I enjoy that.”

You stare at the floor, sniffling a little. It takes her a few seconds to realise you are crying, albeit trying to hide it to the best of your ability. But she is vigilant, she knows. She always knows.

“It is not a bad thing to have the body you have. You are healthy, you just have curves. Many people have surgery to get what you have naturally.”

“They can have it. I don’t want them.”

“Stop. I do not want to hear this nonsense. It is ridiculous. You..”

She walks behind you, pressing her lips to the nape of her neck. You swat her hand away when it brushes your arm, but she tuts and brings it back, gently caressing the skin.

“You are stunning. Your breasts are perfect. They are full and I can hold them in my hands just right. If I must admit, they are good to lay on. They are soft, and they move with your breathing.”

Her hands move, tracing the outline of your breasts through the baggy shirt. She traces a heart before she moves downwards.

“Your hips are beautiful. They are wonderful to hold, both when I come up behind you while you back, and while you are on top of me doing things only we speak about. And, they will be perfect, should we have a child.”

“Your stomach is wonderful. I enjoy massaging it, kissing it, and it may or may not be a weakness of mine when you wear those lovely dresses I know you own.”

Arlecchino’s hands gently knead the skin of your stomach as your tears slowly come to a stop. You can’t help but feel a little better knowing that the person you love finds you just as attractive as you hope she would.

“Your thighs, my god. They are so plush and you know how I love nipping at them, leaving pretty marks only you can see. I love feeling them next to either side of my head, feeling them clench around my head when.. well, you are aware, are you not? Having curves does not make you any more or less of a woman than someone with less curves than you. You are perfect the way you are.”

A small smile graces your face, a smile that always makes her warm inside, though not once will she admit it. She returns a smile of her own. Rare, but genuine.

“I will make you pasta. You will eat it. There is no argument.”

You groan, following her to the kitchen, though you attempt to hold back a giggle when you speak.

“Arlecchino, you.. you lack in the cooking area.”

“Did I ask?”

[thegoldencontracts]

Prefect

Azul is your boyfriend. Yes, boyfriend, as in, person you're in intimate and romantic relations with. So why, just why is he still calling you Prefect?

Notes: credit to @/cephalo-punk for the idea... Im sorry for my sins, reader is the Prefect, GN reader as usual

You and Azul had a wonderful relationship, really. Wonderful, and romantic, and everything. It was safe to say you two were closing, dating, even. Yes, you two were dating. For months now.

And what did people usually call their partners whom they were dating? Their first name, maybe a petname. They usually dropped the titles.

But not Azul. No, Azul could never drop the title you held. Why? Who knew?

"Prefect!" Azul's voice pulled you out of your frying pan of rage only to plummet you into its fire. Ah, yes, that 'nickname'. That damned nickname. "Would you like to dine together this weekend? My treat, of course. I secured a reservation to that restaurant you kept ogling on our trips together. I know, I truly am a benevolent soul."

And yet, immediately your rage was quelled. Azul was asking to take you out on a date. And especially this week - Finals' must've left him completely swamped, no? But he did. And he even got a reservation to that one place that you somehow forgot the name of! Sure, you didn't remember the name, but you did remember that those reservations were super hard to get.

So, did the Prefect thing really matter that much?

"I'll gladly go on a date with you, Azul!" You said. Azul's lips jutted out ever so slightly.

"A 'date' is one way to call it, I suppose," he said. "Really, Prefect-"

Nevermind. In an instant, your mood was dampened by that stupid term of address. He loved you enough to go through all this trouble, and you really appreciated that, honest! You just wanted him to use your goddamn name!

Wait. You had an idea.

"Fine, fine, I'll stop teasing you," you said. "Housewarden Ashengrotto."

Azul looked at you in confusion.

"Housewarden Ashengrotto?"

"That's you, silly!" You said, like you didn't know the real reason behind his question.

Azul's face puckered up in displeasure, like he'd just eaten a sour lemon. He stayed silent for a while before speaking up again.

"Have I done something to offend you, Prefect?" He asked.

"Nope!" You said. "Why, Housewarden Ashengrotto?"

Azul's eye twitched.

"You've decided not to call me by my name all of a sudden," he said.

You smirked.

"Well, since you don't call me by mine, I thought we'd be on even footing!"

The realization hit Azul like a truck. His eyes widened, only to narrow as his cheeks flushed in an indignated pout.

"W-Well- that's different, er-" Azul sighed. "Does it truly upset you that greatly?"

You couldn't help but soften up a bit at that. He really didn't mean you any harm, even if you did still think it was uncharacteristically stupid of him.

"How does it feel when I call you Housewarden?" You asked. His face darkened.

"Point taken."

"Good," you said. "So, why don't you try calling me by my name?"

Azul's eyes widened.

"E-Eh?"

"You heard me. We should be on even footing, right, Housewarden Ashengrotto?"

Azul gulped. If he wanted you to call him by his name again, he'd have to do this, and obviously he was going to, since it was clearly important to you, but...

It was hard.

"O-Of course," he said. "E-Er, Pre- ah-"

And then he said your name. Without "-san" added as an honorific. Nothing of the sort, just your name.

You smiled.

"Yes, Azul?"

And just hearing his name again made Azul beam.

"Why don't we go to your place? It's getting rather late."

"I would love that."

[quill-and-quiver]

𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: baldur's gate 3 | astarion acunín x gn!reader 𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: When Astarion lets it slip that he hasn't seen his own face since he became a vampire spawn, you take it upon yourself to be his eyes. And, as you assure him, he has a very good face. 𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: artist!reader (sorta) | if u noticed anything i missed, pls let me know! 𝚆/𝙲: 2k — 9 min read time .·:*¨༺➻𝙰/𝙽: i'm so sure someone's already done this but ever since this scene triggered for me in like act 1 i been THINKING bout it. i combined some of the dialogue results for this one. he also never is not pretty like ??? r u joking. AND reqs are open! 🤍 mills

✧❦༺ 𝖗𝖊𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖘𝖙 |.☽.| 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 |.☽.| 𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 ༻❦✧

While you sit atop your bedroll trying to relax at camp, your eyes drift over toward Astarion’s tent. To your surprise, you catch beams of moonlight reflecting off of a shining surface. Intrigued, you get up from your seat and make your way over to him. As you approach, you slow your steps and carefully peer around his figure to see a beautiful, ornate silver mirror. Of course, there is no reflection within it aside from your own face.

“Looking for something?” the vampire spawn purrs.

Your eyebrows raise, and you tilt your head inquisitively as a smirk curves across your lips.

“How did you know I was here?” you ask.

“The only benefit to a mirror when you have my…condition. It doesn’t quite make up for the lack of reflection, mind you.”

You hum to yourself and nod. He turns to face you, dropping the mirror to his side. His eyebrows are knitted together, that signature anger decorating his handsome feline features.

“Do you miss it?” you ask, folding your arms over your chest. “Your own face?”

“Preening the looking glass? Petty vanity?” He scoffs. “Of course I miss it. I’ve never even seen this face - not since it grew fangs and my eyes turned red.”

“What color were they before?” you ask, the question slipping out before you have the chance to stop it.

“I don’t know…” he drops his gaze and his eyebrows furrow in deep thought. “I can’t remember. My face is just some dark shape in my past. Another thing I’ve lost.”

He throws the mirror onto the dirt beside him. It lands with a dulled clink as Astarion’s face floods with fury. You breathe a sigh and gulp. Then, you cautiously step forward, craning your neck and narrowing your eyes to focus on him. He angles his head, quirking an eyebrow.

“What?” he asks quietly.

“Just looking.”

“And what is it that you see, exactly, when you look at me?”

You bite the inside of your cheek as you formulate an answer. Suddenly, you can see all of him at once. Your artist’s soul drinks in each and every detail. You study his almond-shaped eyes, the delicate and noble curve of his nose, the grooves in his lips, his pointed ears and angular jawline. Your heartbeat pounds into your ears, and your chest tightens. You admire the way each part of him comes together to form that face, that cruel beauty. You can practically see the penciled lines on a scrap of parchment, the colors you would mix to get his skin tone right, the way you would paint him without the bite scars on his neck. The finished piece flashes before you. Your fingers twitch with anticipation.

“I see you,” you reply. “The creases when you laugh. The way your hair curls around your ears. That dangerous smile.”

His gaze softens, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He straightens, heaving a deep breath, and places his hands on his hips.

“Very good. Now just tell me I’m beautiful and we can call it a day.”

You smile and chuckle.

“You have nothing to worry about, Astarion. It’s a very good face.”

A full smirk breaks across his features, tugging one corner of his mouth upward. He eyes you mischievously, his gaze flicking up and down your figure, before he turns to pick up a book. You take that as your cue to leave and make your way back to your own tent

Though you try to settle down by reading a book you nicked off a drow corpse by the Ebonlake Grotto - The Great Furnace of Grymforge sounds incredibly important - you can’t keep yourself from looking back at your vampire companion. His words continue to echo in your head, over and over again.

I’ve never even seen this face, not since it grew fangs and my eyes turned red.

The painting of him that you had imagined earlier flickers through your mind once again. You raise your head and peer around to see that most of your other companions have gone to bed for the night. You figure you should probably get some sleep too...

Despite your exhaustion, you find yourself reaching for a scroll of unused parchment.

You secure the paper to your wooden easel and open the paint set you tote around in your pack. After making a quick trip to the river to fill a bowl with water, you fish out the brushes and pencils you’ve collected. Once prepped, you take a deep breath and begin to sketch the preliminary lines. As you fill in the finer details, you take care to be as accurate as possible. Every so often, you sneak a peek at Astarion to ensure you’re doing the elf justice and to check on small details, though you are able to do most from memory. You could never quite explain it, but his image appears so clearly in your mind, every detail almost perfectly preserved like a painting in and of itself. He’s settled into the ideal expression as he reads, his features ghosted with deep anger but balanced with a controlled calm.

By the time you’ve finished the sketch, the rest of your party has fallen asleep, Astarion included. He’d walked toward his bedroll encircling the bonfire an hour ago. And, though he tossed you an inquisitive glance, he said nothing. Within a short time, he’d fallen asleep alongside the others.

You take to the paints beside you. In an artist’s flurry, you work quickly but carefully, taking full advantage of every shred of inspiration that you have at the moment. You do your best to match his colors under the soft candle and moonlight. You fully intend to revisit the piece during the day with more favorable lighting.

A few hours later, you’ve all but finished. Until you realize that you’ve left something extremely important out. Though you have sketched in his dark, piercing eyes, you’ve neglected to color them. Your shoulders fall as your conversation from earlier replays in your mind.

Your eyes lock on the blood red swatch of paint immediately, but you wonder…

You look back at the canvas, recalling the image of his face once again. Closing your eyes, you allow your mind to fill in the gaps. You envision Astarion in Baldur’s Gate, with a carefree smile and fine clothes, as the sun shines graciously upon his face. A smile spreads across your lips, and you instinctively reach for a color from your paint set. Satisfied, you open your eyes and get to work.

You haven’t even realized that you’ve fallen asleep until you wake from a kick to your boot. You jerk, your head and neck immediately pounding.

“Well, good morning, sleeping beauty,” Astarion’s familiar voice croons into your ear.

As you shift to sit up, your eyes blink to adjust to the harsh sunlight of the dawn as it rises over the landscape. When you attempt to straighten your neck, a pulsing pain ricochets through you. You grunt and reach a hand up to massage the sore muscles. You’d fallen asleep sitting up in a chair, your head obviously flopped to one side for several hours. Your eyes rake over the camp, observing the fact that everyone else is still resting. By the time you’ve gained enough consciousness to process what’s happening, you realize that Astarion is staring directly at your piece. You gasp and lunge, twisting your body to cover it.

“Oh, that-that’s not...finished. I was planning to make some last minute changes to it this morning, em…” you stutter as your heart pulses at a million miles a minute. You’re suddenly extremely embarrassed by yourself and wondering if you might have taken things a step too far by spending your entire night painting your…friend. Astarion just raises his eyebrows.

“Oh, it looked awfully finished to me, darling.”

He gestures for you to move out of the way, but all you can muster is a shake of your head. He frowns before grabbing onto your bicep and pulling you to the side. Though your brain says to fight him, your heart wants, with everything in you, for him to see it. For him to like it. You drop your gaze in shame, picking at your fingernails. He stands on his back foot. His eyes roam over the piece, his face expressionless. You clear your throat.

“You mentioned last night that you hadn’t seen your face since…well, I thought maybe you’d like to. I know it’s probably not a very good likeness, so please don’t take offense to it. And I wasn’t quite sure what color to make your eyes, so I-”

“Yes,” he muses quietly, in a tone so silent it’s almost imperceptible. He reaches toward the painting, his fingers hovering over the eyes. His shoulders droop. “They were green.”

You inhale sharply. You’d painted them green.

“I’d forgotten until now. Until you…” He tears his gaze away from the painting to take you in. Your breath catches in your throat, and you feel frozen under his unwavering eyes. “Until you helped me to see myself.”

He maintains your stare for a few more moments. You couldn’t miss the way his eyes soften and turn glassy. Nor the almost pink tint that fades into his cheeks. Astarion gulps and considers the painting once more.

“Is this how you see me? Genuinely?”

You inspect the painting yourself now. Last night you had felt so critical of it, fretting over the colors not being exactly right or the lines not matching up as you want them to. You often feel that way about your art. But now, in the daylight, you find yourself falling a little bit in love with this piece.

You drop to your knees alongside your companion, gently reaching out to cup his cheek. He stiffens at your touch but as you scan his features, you feel him ease and…is he leaning into your palm? Your thumb absentmindedly brushes across his cheekbone. He avoids your eyes. With a shaky breath, you look to the painting and grin.

Your inspiration served you well. It’s a spitting image as far as you can tell. You’ve managed to include the wisps of curl that brush against his pointed ears, the faint lines alongside his nose and mouth. Most of all, you’ve captured the sparkle of joy, the light so dim it’s almost vanished, that gleams in his eyes. Even after all that he’s been through.

“Yes. Because this is how you are. To me.”

His head whips around to you. His hands find yours, sandwiching your fingers between his own. Despite his bloodless complexion, his touch is warm and gentle. You step closer to him without even really intending to. He allows a rare smile, a genuine one, to turn up his lips. Your heart skips a beat as he bends down and brings his lips to your cheek. He presses a soft, chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth. Your eyes flutter closed as you drink in the sensation of his lips on you so sweetly. He pulls back, sliding his cheek onto yours.

“Thank you," he whispers into your ear.

As he draws back, a yawn from one of your companions shakes you back to reality. Astarion’s smile remains. His eyes sparkle just in the way you’ve painted them. He squeezes your fingers before releasing them. You clear your throat, willing your sweating palms to dry themselves. You carefully lift the painting and hand it to your vampire spawn companion.

“Here. Keep it. I was planning on giving it to you anyway,” you say.

“Well, since I was the most inspired muse for your delicious little painting, I will,” he teases, flashing a sinister smirk which shows off his sharpened fangs. You chuckle breathlessly and nod.

He begins to walk away but pauses and glances at you over his shoulder.

“Oh and, next time, if you need a model, just ask, darling. I’d be more than happy to pose for you any time. In any position.”

Astarion snickers viciously as you feel your eyes go wide and mouth pop open in surprise. As he struts away, you rub your palms on your heated cheeks. He’s such a tease and yet…perhaps you’d take him up on his offer.

tags: @anukulee

[theemissuniverse]

“F IS FOR FLIRTING” BI-HAN X COMEDIC RELIEF FEM!READER

SUMMARY : Bi-Han is aware of your crush on him but decides to spar with you

A/N : not proof read. Just wanted to post something. Let me know what I should do next

Bi-Han absolutely could not wrap his head around the idea of you having a crush on him.

He wasn’t stupid. He knew you had a crush on him. The way you spoke to him, the things you said under your breath, your actions. They all pointed to you having feelings for him.

And he wasn’t happy about it one bit.

This time, you had baked him fresh chocolate chip cookies. You walked over to him where Kuai Liang and Tomas were.

“Hi, Bi-Han.”

Bi-Han didn’t look up to meet your eyes. He continued to put his wraps on his hands. “Hello, (Y/N).” He said with zero emotion.

“I baked some cookies for you.” You held out your hands for him to take the cookies.

“I don’t eat sweets.”

“Oh…”

Bi-Han heard someone clear his throat. He looked over and saw Kuai Liang motion for him to take them. He rolled his eyes slightly before taking the cookies away from you. “Fine. I’ll take them.”

You smiled at him. “I was wondering if you could help me and spar with me.”

Bi-Han sets the cookies aside and almost laughs at you. “I do not spar with female warriors.”

Before you could say something, Kuai Liang spoke. “But he does today.”

Bi-Han gave Kuai Liang a death stare before ultimately sighing and standing up straight. “Fine.” He walks over to the center a little and you follow him. He gets into his fighting stance. “Just don’t be surprised when-“

You didn’t even let him finish. You immediately kicked him in his stomach. He didn’t have the chance to block it. Then you spun around and kicked him in the face, causing him to fall to the ground.

Bi-Han fell to the ground and grunted a little. He was surprised. Even if you did take him by surprise, usually he would be able to block it with the second hit.

“Sorry.” You held out your hand to help him up.

Bi-Han stared at your hand for a moment before taking it. You helped him up. “How did you do that?”

You giggled slightly. “Do you think Liu Kang chose me as champion for show?”

Bi-Han squinted, irritated by your comment but got back into fighting stance. “I’m not going easy on you.”

“I definitely don’t want you too.”

Bi-Han went to hit you but you blocked it with ease. He went to kick at your legs but you grabbed his leg and threw him off of you.

He went to punch your gut and you blocked it. You spun around and slapped him across the face with your hand.

Bi-Han felt his face. For the first time he had ever fought a woman, the hit hurt.

He saw you smile so innocently. And he didn’t understand how he was starting to find you attractive.

From the way you could keep up with him and how cute you looked when you did it. He never even noticed how good you looked until now.

Bi-Han straightened himself up a little. The two of you were walking in circles, eyeing another.

“I’m beating you with no magic. How does it feel frosty?” You questioned him but it was all playful.

Bi-Han was still in amazement that not even your snarky comment irritated him. “Don’t get full of yourself.”

“Don’t be grumpy. Be better.”

Your confidence was even more attractive and he couldn’t help but notice how you carried yourself.

This entire time you had been vulnerable of your crush, not caring if he had reciprocated his feelings for you. You said and did everything with the utmost confidence and he found it incredibly sexy.

He was starting to see why his brother was pushing him to you.

The two of you stood facing eye to eye. You stared down at each other, waiting for the other to make the first move.

You pointed behind him. “Hey! Look over there!”

Bi-Han gave you a look. “Do you really believe I’m falling for that?”

You shrugged. “Worth a shot.”

You went to hit him and Bi-Han blocked it. You tried to use your other hand to hit him but he grabbed onto your arm.

He kicked you in the stomach and you hissed in pain. He went to kick at you again but you dodged it.

Being off his guard, you kicked him in the back. He stumbled onto the ground. You tried to stomp on him but he moved quick.

He swept your feet which made you fall to the ground. He got on top of you and made his hand ice cold. “Concede?”

You laughed in his face. “Jokes on you but I’m into this.”

“Really?”

“Yup.”

Bi-Han pressed his hand on your stomach and you instantly felt cold. Your entire body was shaking. You couldn’t move as he had you pinned down.

He was waiting for your surrender but you didn’t let up. He tilted his head at you. Then placed his hand harder on you. Your skin was turning blue. “You know I only have one more setting before you freeze to death right?”

You hugged, shivering to your core. “Fine. I concede. Or whatever.”

When Bi-Han pulled away from you, you instantly felt the cold go away.

He stood up from the ground and held his hand for you to take. “Not bad.” He said. “But you couldn’t beat me.”

You shrugged at his statement. “Who said I planned to beat you?” You dusted yourself off. “And I did pretty good since you cheated and used your magic.”

Bi-Han laughed. “There are no rules to kombat.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You waved him off and went to walk away.

Bi-Han stopped you. He grabbed your arm and pulled you close to him. Maybe even too close for talking distance. It shocked you a little.

Then he said something even more shocking.

“Same time tomorrow?”

The question brought an instant smile to your face. You started to giggle and nod. Bi-Han tilted his head at you, questioningly. Were you this noticeable with your crush on previous men?

He let go of your arm. Then you did something that shocked him.

You gave him a kiss on the cheek which made his eyes widen. “See ya!” You waved over to Kuai Liang. “By Kuai!”

Kuai Liang waved back at you and watched you leave. When you were gone, he smirked over to Bi-Han.

Bi-Han noticed his facial expression and shook his head. “Don’t.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You were thinking it though.”

Over the span of a couple of weeks, you and Bi-Han had grown closer. So close to the point he didn’t mind your longing stares or even you hugging him, and he did not let anyone hug him.

You were an excellent fighter. Bi-Han saw that and furthermore, respected you.

The two of you continued to up the stakes with every fight but it was this time that Bi-Han was unsure.

“We’re not doing this, (Y/N).”

You rolled your eyes at the Grandmasters overdramatize vision. “Come on.” You threw him the sword and he caught it. “First one to make the other one bleed, wins.”

Bi-Han watched as you held onto your sword. “This is not a good idea.”

“Aw. Worried you’ll be bleeding? I’ll go easy.”

“It is not me that is worried. I have never seen you train with a weapon, much less a sword.”

“You would be correct!” You confirmed. “I haven’t! But it’s good to practice now isn’t it? And I know you’ve been wanting to do this. Stab the only girl that annoys you. I get it! Come on! It will be fun!”

Something about what you said made his heart twitch. You weren’t annoying to him. At least not anymore and he didn’t want to hurt you. He had never wanted to hurt you at all.

You being hurt, especially by the hands of him didn’t sit right with him. “(Y/N)…”

You ignored him and started counting. “Three, two, one, go!”

Bi-Han ducked when you swung your sword at him. He sighed. There was no turning back now.

He jumped back when you swung again. To the left and to the right. He then crouched down to sweep your feet. Making you fall.

You groan at the impact. He shook his head at you. “You’re not fighting. You’re just swinging the sword.” He told you.

You got up quickly. “Isn’t that the whole point?”

“No. It is not. See. This is why-“ he couldn’t finish his sentence. You began to swing your sword again and he ducked.

You went to jab at his arm but he used his sword to block it and threw you away from him.

You spun around and took a jab at him gain but he blocked it with the sword once more. The two of you stood in that position. “You’re not even trying!” You tell him. “Don’t be a loser.”

He rolled his eyes at you. He kicked you in the stomach. Then took a jab at you.

This jab though actually got you.

You weren’t blocking and his sword stuck in your right arm. His eyes widened and he quickly pulled it out and threw it to the ground.

You started to fall on your knees but he caught you. “You won.” You said through out the pain.

Bi-Han ripped off a piece of his shirt before then tying it to your arm. “I told you this wasn’t a good idea.”

You’ve never seen Bi-Han so worried before but you could understand why. It was a minor wound. You would be fine.

The two of you were inside, where he resided at. He was constantly hovering over you. Making sure you were alright.

Just to get some peace of mind, you decided to take a shower.

His head was spinning. Bi-Han couldn’t understand it. How he was actually worried for you. That the feeling on his chest made his blood pressure go up. He couldn’t explain what he was actually feeling.

All he knew was that he felt guilt. And that did not happen so frequently.

He was the Grandmaster of his clan. How could he feel guilt for something so simple yet so important to him?

As he was consumed by his own thoughts, he heard the shower go off. Then he heard footsteps that came from the entrance to his room so he looked up.

When he did, he saw you. In nothing but a towel. You clutched the towel close to your body and he noticed that water dripped from your head and down to your legs.

You washed all the makeup that was on your face which made you look vulnerable. But Bi-Han thought you were beautiful.

That’s when it clicked for him. He almost sighed out in reality. Just wondering how the hell did he fall for you, Liu Kang’s champion. How he fell for you, the girl who didn’t take anything serious in her life while he took everything serious.

How did this happen?

“You got a shirt I can borrow?”

Bi-Han was surprised you didn’t notice his staring. He was making it pretty obvious that he was checking you out and in a manner that he didn’t care to be found out in.

He grabbed a shirt from his dresser and handed it to you. You took it, waving finger guns at him before walking out of the room.

Bi-Han could not understand how he fell in love with you of all people.

He shook his head and sat on the edge of the bed. “Liu Kang is going to be mad about the wound.”

“Since when did you care about what he thought?” You called out from the bathroom.

“I don’t…I’m just saying. You’re impulsive.”

You scoffed, coming back in the room with only the shirt he gave you and your underwear on. “And you’re not? You’re not exactly a world class thinker, frosty.”

Bi-Han rolled his eyes at the nickname. He stood up from the bed to take step towards you. “Better than you. I told you it was dangerous.”

“We fight in Mortal Kombat tournaments to Lee the realms at balance. Anything is dangerous.” You said.

“It’s one thing to do something dangerous because you’re supposed to. It’s another when you intentionally be reckless.”

At that comment, you couldn’t understand why Bi-Han was acting like this. He was the last person to worry about safety. “Are you okay? What’s going on with you? You’ve never cared this much about anything so minor before.”

Bi-Han sighed. He rested his hand on his forehead. He did not look at you. “Do not make me say it.”

It took you a minute to understand the situation. It was at that moment you smiled. You let out a gasp and pointed to him. “Oh my god! You have a crush on me?” You then straightened yourself out, boosting your ego. “I mean, I knew you would.”

Bi-Han could not take any more of your talking. He grabbed you by the waist and pulled you towards him before kissing you.

Never would he think he’d feel this way about you.

[mabelstone]

La Petite Mort

hozier x f!reader

part four of lullabies <3 | part three | masterlist

cw: sex sex sex love making ❤️ no other warnings really, it's pretty gushy

word count: 2.6k

taglist: @princezty @somethinglikero @jimihendrixpopfigure @the-imperfectgirl-blog @l1nd3n xo

Hours later, the buzz of the alcohol had completely fled my system, leaving me with a residual fatigue and a love struck smile. It felt wrong, but simultaneously, nothing had ever felt so right or natural. Like the sense of deja vu that confirms you are exactly where you're supposed to be.

"Hey," he gently shook my arm from where I was sitting in a booth, almost unable to keep my eyes open. "You 'right?"

"Mhm," I grinned, fighting back a yawn. "And how are you, hotshot?"

"Overwhelmed," he huffed, extending his hand to me. He never enjoyed crowds despite their tendency to form around him everywhere he went. "Let's go home."

I let him lead me out, warmth flooding my cheeks at the simple gesture. The bite of the cold was sharper than earlier, my teeth instantly chattering. He, of course noticed immediately, shucking himself of his jacket, draping it over my shoulders.

"Andy," I shook my head trying to fight him off, but it was no use. "Now you're gonna get cold."

"I have at least three layers on at all times, the cold fears me," he joked, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Thank you," I pouted at him, overwhelmed at such a small gesture. But it wasn't small to me. Everything Andy did was grand in my eyes. "So chivalrous."

"Well, you know me," he shrugged, stifling a grin of his own.

I started humming the chorus of tonights' song as we walked, unable to remember any of the words other than imagine being loved by me, and the beautiful melody that was sure to hang around for days.

"Don't do that," he laughed with embarrassment, slinging his arm around my shoulders and pulling me close.

"Why not? It's a beautiful song, after all," I shrugged, unable to hide my smile that stretched from ear to ear. "And wasn't I the inspiration?" I teased, and it was now his turn to glow red.

"Mhm," he grinned, eyes focused on the road ahead of us. We were nearly back at the car, and the adrenaline was beginning to flood my bloodstream. "That's why you liked it, 'uh?."

"So good," I agreed, walking a bit closer to him that now our arms bumped occasionally. "Did you mean what you said? In the song?"

"'Course I did," he chuckled, unlocking the car and opening my door for me. He even helped me buckle my seatbelt. "Don't worry, it's just a song."

He climbed into his side now, the faintest pink tint to his cheeks, but otherwise, unbothered. I, on the other hand, was trying to get my stupid heart to slow back to normal.

I was fighting the urge to climb over into his lap and beg him to do all the things he'd been imagining. Instead we drove in what would appear to be comfortable silence from an outsiders' perspective. Obviously I didn't know what he was thinking, but I can promise you there was no trace of innocence in my thoughts. The air in the car was thick with desire, leaving me on the verge of choking on the tension.

We exchanged few words on the drive back to his, stealing bashful glances here and there. When the car stilled to a park, I couldn't keep my mouth shut any longer.

"Andrew?" My heart continued to pound in my ears, his brows raising slightly in encouragement. "I want you," I confessed.

He turned to face me and I could see his quickening pulse through the thin skin of his neck. He swallowed thickly, pupils blown so wide I could scarcely see any green.

His gaze flitted between my lips and my eyes, and I'm sure I too was all pupil at this point. I couldn't help myself, leaning over the centre console to feel his lips on mine. My eyes fluttered shut, as did his, and I swear something inside of me had come alive for the first time in my life.

He was better than I had ever imagined.

Lips warm and soft, adding the perfect amount of pressure that made me crave more and more. His hand slipped up the back of my head, cradling its entirety in his palm.

He pulled back slowly, his hand still at the base of my skull. His lips were plump and looked absolutely delicious, my heart aching at the loss of contact.

"I want you, you know that," his voice was lower than before, our faces still close enough that I could feel the tickle of his breath ghosting my lips. "But you just got out of such a long relationship."

"You've treated me better these past few weeks than he did in six years," I reached my hand up to cup his face. His skin was warm and soft, the scratch of his stubble in my palm pulling me back down to Earth, reminding me that this wasn't just another daydream of mine. "Please, kiss me."

And he did, pulling me in as close as the confinement of his car would allow. It felt like coming up for air after holding your breath under water, like the relief you get when a siren finally stops blaring. His scent, his warmth, his gentle breaths exhaled through his nose, mingling with mine as we moved in synchronicity, as if we'd rehearsed this a million times. I'm starting to suspect he must have been having similar dreams of me.

I pulled away this time, giving him my best doe eyes through hooded lids as I suggested, "shall we go inside?"

Without a second thought, Andy was out of the car, opening my door for me. Within moments, our lips were connected again, my arms draped around his neck, his hands quick to grab my waist. He lead me into his house, our mouths moving fast, passion coursing through our veins like electricity. I squealed in surprise when he lifted me, wrapping my legs around his waist as he carried me up the stairs. We were a mess of giggles and laboured breathing, bumping into walls, and desperately grabbing at one another.

Despite the desperation in our actions, he softly laid me onto his bed, crawling in between my thighs before kissing me again. I ran my hands up the sides of his torso, feeling him shudder slightly under my touch.

I could feel his hard on digging into my thigh, and suddenly my clothes were the biggest inconvenience known to man. "Show me, Andy," I breathed in between kisses, his lips now on my neck, my knickers well on their way to being drenched. "All the things you've been wanting to do to me."

He let out a deep, guttural sound somewhere between a strangled moan and a whine. He reluctantly pulled himself from me, slipping his shoes off in two fluid movements. He knelt before me, my entire ankle easily in the grip of his hand. He unbuckled my heels, slipping them off with a kiss to each of my calves. He slowly ran his hands up my legs, planting a trail of kisses upon each inch of skin he touched, the heat in my core beginning to boil.

He looked up through his head of curls, eyes dark and hungry. "You sure you want this, darlin'?"

I nodded desperately, hands instantly finding their way into his hair to bring his lips to mine again. His tongue prodded at my bottom lip and I let him in my mouth without hesitation, allowing him to explore. This only caused my desire for his tongue elsewhere to grow insurmountably.

All of my senses came to life when I felt his hand moving toward my inner thigh, opening my legs wide for him to grant him full access. His fingers made their way to my core, a soft groan fleeting from his lips. "Fuck," he breathed against my lips, slipping a ridiculously long finger inside of me with ease. I moaned into his mouth, one of my hands reaching down to grab his wrist, encouraging him to insert another. He did, curling his fingers with such precision that if I my brain weren't staticky from the feeling, I'd question how many lovers he'd had. He continued to pump his fingers in and out of me, kissing my neck as he did so, eyes glued to my face as if he were memorising every expression he pulled from me.

"Need to feel you," I choked out breathlessly, desperately cupping his face. "Please."

He smiled wickedly, kissing my lips once more before pulling his fingers out, dipping them straight into his mouth. My jaw nearly detached from my face at the gesture, my stomach flipping harder than ever. I watched in awe as he pulled his shirt off, his pants soon to follow, absolutely shocked that the shy, awkward, nerdy Andrew I thought I knew did not exist within these walls. I could see the outline of his cock through his boxers, swallowing hard. How on Earth was that going to fit? I sat up to rid myself of my dress, allowing it to pool around my ankles as he watched on, cock twitching beneath the thin cotton.

I made my way to him, helping him remove the last bit of clothing keeping us apart, eyes nearly bulging out of my head when I saw him. All of him. He may be the most beautiful man I have ever seen.

His hands quickly found my face, reeling me in with those lips once more before laying me on the bed again. His eyes searched mine again for any doubt, not finding any, but something else. "You okay?"

"Yes, just preparing," I laughed, only half joking.

"You're okay, you can take it," he kissed my cheek softly, lining himself up with my entrance. I gasped at the sharp sting of the stretch, holding my breath briefly. He halted all movement, no doubt used to this happening. "Tell me when, baby."

I rested my hands on his shoulders, taking a deep breath before nodding. He slowly slipped the rest of his length in, our beautiful harmonisation of moans filling the air.

It was only painful for a moment before I was practically begging for more. He was as long and thick as you’d expect, but God, nothing could have prepared me. He began to form a steady rhythm, thrusting in and out of me while I whined under his touch.

To feel his body weight on mine, his warmth, his scent, his love - I had ascended from my human form. I caved, begging him for more, begging him to fuck me how he wanted to.

He captured my lips with his mid way through a thrust, his cock slamming into that spot that made my brain fuzzy. I dug my nails into his shoulders, gasping into his mouth, “just like that.”

He obliged, one of his hands steadying himself with the headboard, the other cupping the back of my head. I wondered why, until he really found his rhythm.

With each delicious thrust, he would effectively hit my g-spot, making me weak as jelly under him, barely able to form words. My head was hitting his hand with the sheer force of each thrust, and I’m sure the thought of him protecting my skull would make me swoon if I weren’t on the brink of tears, producing noises I didn’t know I was capable of.

“Andy, Andy,” I chanted his name breathlessly, unable to even open my eyes as pleasure cradled my entire being. I’d never heard my voice this desperate ever, to the point that I had no autonomy over my words and vocality, like my soul was speaking without getting confirmation from my brain first. “You- feel- so- good,” I was near crying between each thrust, my mouth completely dry from all the panting.

“You feel good too, darlin’,” he grinned, removing his hand from the bed head and dropping it down to my clit. “So fuckin’ good.”

My jaw went slack, no coherent words falling from my mouth, just rhapsodies of praise in the form of whimpers and laboured breaths.

"Want you to cum for me," he breathed, his thrusts growing sloppy ever so slightly.

"Keep going," I barely got the words out, the coil in my stomach tightening as he dragged me closer to the edge with every word, every thrust, every skilled dance of his fingers over my clit. "Andy," I warned loudly, the high pitch of my tone sounding foreign to my ears, unsure if had even fallen from my tongue. "Oh, my God, I'm gonna-"

Within an instant, I unravelled beneath his touch, moaning a string of curses I couldn't even hear as the static in my mind grew overwhelming. I shook uncontrollably, every muscle of mine growing limp yet tensing and spasming at the same time. My back arched and my toes curled, crescent moon shapes from my fingernails marking his beautiful skin; a reminder to us both of how euphoric he had made me feel. My orgasm rippled through me like waves in a storm, pummelling me over and over as I couldn't stop my eyes from rolling into the back of my head, unable to open them, unable to close my mouth as a slurry of cries dripped from my soul. Unsure of what came over me, I begged, “please cum in me,” wanting nothing more than to feel every ounce of his loving.

When I finally came back down to Earth, the waves crashed into him, the most angelic sounds flooding the four walls we were confined to. Overstimulation wracked my bones, panting into his mouth as he rode out the rest of his high, a clash of tongue and teeth as he kissed me once more. He pumped into me a few more unsteady times, his arms shaking as they struggled to hold his weight any longer.

He pulled out of me slowly, the loss of contact leaving me with a hollow feeling, immediately clinging to him the second his head hit the pillow beside me.

“Andrew,” I breathed in disbelief, titling my head to see the tired smile on his face. “I don’t even have words.”

“Could say the same to you!” He sighed, content with his arm around me, our bodies gently slowing back to normal. “What an angel.”

You are the angel, is what I wanted to say. Instead, I basked in his warmth, his scent flooding my senses as my soul unwillingly reconnected with my body.

“Write a song about this, would ya?” I laughed against his skin, tracing shapes into his chest, feeling like I was the main character in a cheesy rom-com.

“Way ahead of ya, love,” he grinned back, pressing a soft kiss to the top of my head. “Wanna have a shower? Or is that too much?”

I looked up at him with furrowed brows and pursed lips. “Andrew. There’s a chance you just knocked me up. No, showering together is not too much.”

“Don’t even joke about that,” he groaned, abruptly rolling out of bed, picking me up bridal style and carrying me to the bathroom. He laughed devilishly at the squeak he elicited from me, kissing my face while I smiled and giggled like a fool.

Fuck.

He towered over me, the beads of water dripping from his hair onto me. He looked beautiful, contented in serenity, similar to how I was feeling, I'm sure. He lathered my body in soapy suds, nothing remotely sexual in the gesture. I did the same for him, enveloped in the warmth of his skin, acclimated to the same temperature of the water. If this were my last moment on Earth, I would die happy. Andrew had a way of making me forget every bad moment of my life. Every poor decision, every tear cried for a man who only thought about himself. Surely, this was too soon to be labelled as love. But it sure felt like it.

"You are so beautiful."

i hope u liked it if u didn't tell me if u did leave requests of something you'd like to see in this next xo and i'm aware of all the run on sentences, i'm sorry if that makes it difficult to read. i will not shut up! even in text