#im gonna try to dip more than i usually do for like the next month probably btw

[ilostyou]

hey besties who missed me

[mistergoddess]

the way i'm going to be absolutely fucked by bills on the 1st ^_^ rent n utilities n student loan payment all the usual stuff but then also... car insurance renewing and i have... hrt check in appointment on the 1st as well... and no health insurance rn bc unemployed so ummmmm no clue how that's gonna go out of pocket, i'm def gonna call this week and see what my options are and like if it's possible to just get it refilled without going in but pprrrrooobbably not so i'll also ask like for a quote for how much itll be and if there's any idfk financial help i can get or like sliding scale? probably nnnoootttttt bc its fancy private clinic, which was great when i had insurance! but now is like oh fuck oh shit! but worth trying to ask what they can do auuhhhh... but im looking at like upwards of $1200 in bills all hitting on one day lmfao fmsbl

AAAAND im injured so job hunt/working rn is sketchy and need gas and need to refill my t before the end of the month which is gonna be expensive now out of pocket and groceries are stupid fucking expensive bc im Not Good About Food and have Special Needs when it comes to food which makes it rly expensive and it's so exhausting to be like wow i could really like save money on food AND be healthier and have more energy if my mental issues didn't make my ability to eat different things and cook like fucking. nonexistent so i spend so much just eating like my Autism And Depression Wombo Combo Safe Foods i.e. instant food like ramen and frozen dinners and tuna/chicken salad and sandwiches and snacks which isn't good for me or nutritious and sustainable anyway.

it's so fucking hard i don't think of myself as struggling financially bc i'm crazy good with my money... usually... and always work it out and keep my savings up when i need to to keep a big safety net under me for just this kind of stuff since it's so hard to hold a job and i take a long time between jobs so i can't afford to let my savings dip to where i'd be absolutely stranded between jobs and can breathe a little. but then i get here and i'm like yeah it isn't good huh like money is indeed an issue isn't it. and then i don't think of myself as disabled and it's like yeah well clearly i struggle with stable employment and i struggle with the food thing. and my issues make it hard for me to work out stuff like negotiating and accessing healthcare in ways that are more manageable and affordable, like i know trying to call my gyno this week about the hrt checkin is going to be a disaster and i'm not gonna be able to ask the right questions or know how to ask for what i need and just get discouraged and scared.

like i DO have special needs and am at a disadvantage to ppl who can cope better and are higher functioning. but i don't. idk. allow myself? that? it's so fucking exhausting bc idk people have it far far worse and far harder than i do and i am functional to a degree but those weak spots and the inconsistency just mean. i'm disabled but not disabled enough to like treat myself kindly over it and not disabled enough to feel like i deserve to ask for help because i can take care of myself sometimes but the times i can't are really scary and stressful

i feel like. i'm constantly balancing on a fucking tightrope. or sliding down a hill and barely clinging to the side and desperately trying to climb back up a few feet before the next wave of the avalanche hits. and the fact that i CAN climb up and gain some ground a little makes me feel like. well i'm not really doing as bad as the people at the bottom of the fucking ravine who actually deserve to be rescued so i should just get over myself and why am i even here and why can't i just toughen up and get over it and climb all the way up. and i feel so fucking guilty like ok also why aren't i helping the people at the bottom of the ravine. if i can afford to keep some savings under me for times like this and emergencies then i'm just hoarding money and not doing enough for people who don't have that luxury like. i'm a bad person for looking out for myself first and not distributing what i have. idk.

and i know these are all really common anxieties and stresses and feelings of shame and guilt and self depreciation and self sabotage amongst ppl who have variable or mixed needs and like the fucking impostor syndrome that comes with it... which helps me feel less alone but i feel really alone too and i am quite alone, i have 2 really key players in my support network who i'm endlessly grateful for but i don't have anyone taking care of me but me and it's exhausting just. staying afloat. but i don't see myself as worthy of that exhaustion. i don't have anyone i can rely on just for like. idk. sympathy and comfort and distraction bc i don't have any irl friends and i don't have a social life so it's just me like. either going to work and struggling a bit to maintain that or being unemployed and struggling really hard to gain ground again and get back to stable. i don't have a lot of joy or wonder or exploration or experiences in my life because it's hard enough just to exist and not spiral and lose everything i'm constantly working so hard for and not spiral and start wanting to kill myself.

[letstalkaboutfandomsbaby]

If you do Toji, I beg for some toji chubby chaser headcanons. I'm STARVING here😥

*dusts off shoulders and rolls up sleeves* alrighty, let's get to work

Tbh i lowkey don't like Toji's personality but i tried my best to make some general headcanons for you babe 🤧💕

CW: chubby fem reader, smut, not beta read bc im just a lil worm and i dont do that skskksks

Ok let's one thing straight

Mans is the biggest chubby chaser on the planet sksksk

He loves some extra cushion to grab onto so if you're curvy/plump/fat/whatever you wanna call yourself, he is THERE, he's right next to you asking for your number sksksk

Like if you've got a curvy milf bod, he's already looming over you and callin you mommy which? um? Hello? Police??

No but he loves thicc girls with his whole heart

There's so much to squeeze and grab and you best believe he's pawing at every inch of you like he's about to fall off a ledge and he's holding on for dear life

You're gonna be COVERED in marks babe, im sorry if you have somewhere to be, your best bet is to just cover yourself up

He is absolutely RUTHLESS in bed good LORD

He's gonna beat your pussy up so bad that they'll need dental records to identify her

I'm talking slapping, biting, smacking, gripping you so hard you get BRUISES jesus christ dude, if you don't chill out imma have you arrested for domestic violence i swear—

He rarely has soft moments

He's probably a fuck buddy at most bc let's be honest this man is not built for a relationship

It's not you babe! He's just trash sksksk please do not let him be any more than that bc he is gonna leave and break your heart and come back three months later to fuck and raid your fridge alexa play aint shit by doja cat sksksk

But by all means, keep him around for a good time every now and then bc you deserve to get your back blown out 😌

ANYWAYS

He's v good in bed and he's cocky about it too

He's way too good for a crusty nobody like him 😤

He finds your clit v easily and just plays with you until you're begging for his dick

And even then he doesn't give you want you want, he's a MENACE

Wants that pretty chubby pussy to squirt all over him before he fucks your brains out

He's obsessed with watching his dick push past your plump lips and slip into that ushy gushy pussy that he loves oh so much

He's got one hand on your chub at all times

Could be titty, ass, love handle, belly: he's just gotta hold onto you while he rails that pretty pussy

Likes pressing down on your belly and saying "im right here, baby. Ya feel me?"

Fav position: mating press are yall really fuckin surprised sksksks

Cmonnnnn, just let him push your knees up to your shoulders

He just wants to see your chubby bits fold up, your pretty plump pussy soaked and twitching helplessly :(

He's not gonna use a condom, don't even try to convince him bc he refuses

He wants to stuff you so full of cum that he can't fit his cock inside anymore 🤧

He mayyyyyyyy have a breeding kink sksksk like he loves creampies, the baby's just an epilogue

Shit, you already look like a milf, might as well give ya a baby pls don't have a baby with this man, take your birth control

Stretch marks make him hard sksksk

He sees those sexy tiger stripes and he's ready to risk it all

Tosses you over his shoulder way too often sksksk

Like "ayyyyyy babayyy, wanna see how strong i am? Ayee, want me to hold you up while we fuck? No? Too bad"

He's annoying and selfish most of the time but he's actually a pretty decent cook and makes you something most of the time before he dips

He acts like he doesn't care most of the time, but he still makes sure that you're alright after yall have sex

He'll pick you up if you're too weak to walk and keep you steady in the shower may or may not go another round if you're able to stand on your own

Usually jumps ship when yall are done fuckin, but over time he starts sleeping over, holding onto you tightly for at least a couple hours

He starts coming over to your place not just for sex, but to rest and recuperate, bringing along takeout and some drinks

He even invited you to the races (you said no bc who wants to go watch their fuck buddy lose all their money betting on horses?) which was weird bc he's never invited you anywhere before

He's protective of you too, always questioning who you're texting, mumbling something about how you shouldn't get involved with random guys bc they could be dangerous

You always brushed his actions off as normal "aLpHa MaLe" behavior, but you started questioning his intentions when he started grunting strange phrases during sex

"Look at you, so sweet and precious for me, my good girl"

"You love my dick, dontcha? Best dick you ever had, right? You don't need nobody else when I make you feel this good"

"Fuck, love this hot fat cunt. It's all mine, all mine."

"God, I love your body, you're so fucking good fer me. Fuck, I love you"

You never brought it up afterwards, pretending like you didn't hear anything he said or just didn't care

He's not a perfect man: he's reckless and cruel and selfish, but maybe if he grows up a bit and realigns his morals, you might join him to one of those lil races he's so fond of

[baroquebucky]

fool for you

bucky just wants to be with you forever

word count: 1.9k

masterlist

a/n: hi bffs !! hope u are all well <33 pls enjoy this v fluffy one shot inspired by own post :’ ) let me know what u all think !!

You were tired, your eyelids felt heavy and you struggled to pay attention to the tv. Your head falling to the side as you drifted off, eyes shooting open when you realized you were falling asleep. You got up quickly, splashing your face with water and settling back on the couch, rubbing your eyes and focusing on the tv again.

1:57 a.m.

You checked your phone in hopes of a “five minutes away :)” text from bucky, but there was none. You yawned again and changed the channel, flipping through some channels to try to wake you up before deciding to just switch to netflix instead.

You smiled as your favorite show played, nuzzling into the blanket bucky had given you and focusing on the show. The sound of keys rattling woke you up, you hadn’t even realize you had fallen asleep.

“shit” bucky whispered as the door slammed into the wall. “sorry” bucky spoke, apologizing to the wall before dragging his suitcase as quietly as he could. He kicked off his boots and his eyes landed on you asleep on the couch.

“buck?” you mumbled, willing your eyes open. Your vision was fuzzy and you could hear the tv still playing, you moved a little, forgetting you were on the couch and slipped off the edge. You couldn’t even process that you had fallen by the time bucky caught you in his arms, smiling at you.

“hi doll” bucky smiled at you, kissing your forehead gently and easily lifting you in his arm. He turned the tv off and carried you into your shared room, gently placing you on the bed.

“what time ‘s it?” You mumbled, rubbing your eyes and yawning, finally waking up.

“almost 3” he smiled at you softly, rummaging through his drawer and taking out a change of clothes. You nodded as he pulled out a black t shirt and some boxers, walking towards you and kissing your temple.

“I’m gonna shower doll, you can go to sleep” he assured you and you nodded, knowing full well you’d end up waiting up for him anyway.

“don’t slip” you smiled and he rolled his eyes, waving you off with a small smile on his face.

“it was one time!” He groaned before closing the door to the restroom.

You smiled to yourself as you heard the shower turn on, rolling over to your side and closing your eyes. The sleep that had been taking over you earlier was nowhere to be found. You kicked the covers off you and groaned, frowning as you stared at the ceiling. You grabbed your phone from the nightstand and scrolled through Twitter for a while, waiting for bucky to finish showering so you could cuddle up to him and fall asleep.

You could feel yourself growing hungry, glancing at the time on your phone you frowned a bit, it was already 3:07 am. you drank some water and tried to fall back asleep, cuddling into your pillow and letting out a soft sigh when you finally got comfortable. Right as you were finally going to sleep bucky opened the restroom door, the sound making your eyes shoot open and heart race. 

“did I wake you?” bucky whispered, a frown on his face as he heard your heart rate quicker than usual. You shook your head with a small smile. He knew you were lying but he didn't say anything, he just threw his dirty clothes in the laundry basket and settled next to you under the covers. He threw his right arm around you, pulling you closer to him and kissing the top of your head. 

“g’night doll” he mumbled and closed his eyes, already falling asleep from how exhausted he was. 

“goodnight buck” you replied softly, closing your eyes and relishing in the feeling of his arm around you. It was silent, with only the sounds of the city flowing through the Brooklyn apartment. 

Then your stomach growled, causing bucky to looked at you with wide eyes and you stifled a giggle. You mumbled a ‘sorry’ before closing your eyes again, hoping it wouldn't keep growling. 

You were wrong. Your stomach was relentless, and finally you got up, slipping from Bucky grasp and scurrying into the kitchen to find something to eat. Bucky felt your absence almost immediately, he opened his eyes and frowned, getting up and making his way into the kitchen. 

“didnt mean to wake you angel” you apologized as he walked towards you. He shook his head and wrapping his arms around you, letting his chin rest onto of your head. His eyes fluttered closed as you relaxed into him, your arms snaking around his waist and leaning your head against his chest. The sound of the microwave made you pull away from him, grabbing the hot cup of Mac and cheese and setting it on the dining table, Bucky soon following you and sitting next to you. 

“now im hungry” he frowned and you laughed, giving him some of your Mac and cheese which he gratefully ate. Within minutes the small bowl of Mac and cheese was empty, the two of you still hungry.  You stared at bucky, a small smile creeping onto both of your faces. You were both thinking the same thing. 

“no we shouldn't” you shook your head and bucky agreed. 

“yeah no its almost 4 we should get to bed” he replied, you both got up, making eye contact before bursting into a fit of giggles and smiles, heading straight towards the kitchen and definitely not bed. You pulled your phone out and put on some music. 

“you were thinking about French toast right?” you asked and bucky smiled, already opening the fridge for the ingredients, you grinned and you opened the pantry to get the other things you needed. You both sang along to the music softly, swaying to the beat. 

As bucky made the mix you grabbed the bread and two plates, heating up the pan and putting some butter on it, letting it melt. You moved easily in the kitchen with bucky, ever since you had moved in together everything just seemed to work for you guys. 

As you dipped the bread into the batter before putting it in the pan. Turning to bucky and using the spatula as a microphone, singing along to some 40s song you had added for bucky. You smiled as he took the spatula from your hand, setting it down and grabbing your hands, dancing along to the song. 

Bucky had the brightest smile on his face as you followed his lead, letting him twirl you around as the song played. You looked up at him as he danced with you, meeting his light blue eyes. Your eyes met and bucky couldn't stop himself. 

“I can't wait any longer oh my god” he rushed out, letting go of you and rushing back into the bedroom, leaving you along in the kitchen. 

You frowned, did you do something wrong? You focused back on the French toast, flipping the slice so it wouldn't burn before placing it on Buckys plate. You frowned as you looked for the powdered sugar. Realizing you hadn't taken it out you turned around to get it, your back to the bedroom door. As you searched for it your mind raced, was he breaking up with you? Was he just really tired?

Meanwhile Bucky was rummaging through all his drawers, wondering where the hell he put the ring he picked out with Steve seven months ago. His heart was racing as he heard you cooking the french toast, confused as to why he left you. Finally he found the black velvet box in the back of his sock drawer, smiling as he ran back out to meet you in the kitchen. 

Bucky saw you facing the drawer, so he wasted no time sneaking up behind you and getting down on one knee silently, opening the small box to reveal the ring. 

You finally found the powdered sugar, opening it and turning around. You turned quickly, eyes immediately landing on bucky, right in front of you. 

On one knee. With a ring.

You dropped the powdered sugar, causing it to land all over you, bucky and the ring. Your hands flew to your mouth as he smiled at you brightly.

“are you joking? this is a joke right?” you questioned and bucky shook his head, still on one knee despite having powdered sugar all over his shirt. 

“y/n I love you so much, I wanna spend forever with you. Everything feels so right with you I just- its like we’re just meant to be, I can't imagine a life without you. I wanna make you happy, I wanna travel the world with you, I wanna dance in the kitchen at 3 am and make French toast at ungodly hours with you for the rest of my life” he rambled, you felt your ears burning as he continued, your mind still processing that he was actually proposing. 

“-I love how competitive you are and how excited you get over anything and everything, I just love you so much-” he cut himself off when he looked at you for the first time since he started rambling, smiling softly up at you as you looked at him, fondness in your eyes and a tear rolling down your cheek. 

“will you marry me?” he spoke, breathless. 

Never in your life have you nodded so quickly. 

“yes, of course yes” you whispered and bucky smiled, jumping to his feet as you cupped his face, crashing your lips onto his, smiling into the kiss. You pulled away with a sniffle, smiling as he took your hand and slid the ring on, he blushed at the sight of it. 

You looked at each other with a smile, kissing once more before you realizing the french toast was cold by now. You pulled away quickly, grabbing the powdered sugar bag from the floor and sprinkling some lightly on your plates. 

“sorry about all that” you laughed, motioning to the powdered sugar all over the two of you and the floor. Bucky just grinned, waving it off as the two of you ate the French toast, a smile never leaving either of your faces. Both pf you giggling as the sun came up and birds began to sing. 

Not long after you finished Bucky cleaned up your mess, you changed into one of his t shirts and slipped into bed, a smile on your face as he walked into the room, taking his shirt off and slipping out of his sweats before moving into bed next to you. 

You wasted no time as he laid on his back, moving his arm so you could rest your head on his chest. He cradled you gently as you got comfortable, kissing the top of your head once you settled in. 

“love you so much angel, can't wait until we get to spend forever together” you mumbled with a smile on your face, already drifting off to sleep. Bucky smiled at your words, letting his fingers run through your hair. 

“and I love you more than yesterday” he whispered, “but less than tomorrow.”

Bucky meant his words. He meant them with everything he was. He fell in love with you everyday. He always found himself falling deeper and deeper, but he never complained. Now could fall in love with you for the rest of his life.

[patt-writes-stuff]

Beach Days with The Genshin Characters!

Wc: 1.7k+

Type: Headcanons

CW: umm nothing except mentions of alcohol and maybe people being creeps? (None of the chars or you tho it’s very brief)

A/N: HI IM BACK FROM THE DEAD! These were supposed to be a lot shorter but I got too excited. If you by any chance wanna see some for your fav character lmk! I know it says request are closed in my bio but since it’s just hcs it’s a lot less (and I really enjoyed writing these so ajdhdhdk)

🔥Diluc:

This man cannot swim. Tell me otherwise, I dare you.

Kaeya tried to jokingly push him off a lil diving cliff area when they were kids.

He almost drowned. Kaeya was in a lot of trouble.

So, good luck getting this man to actually get in the water. The most he’ll do is sit on the shore where it’s very shallow.

He usually prefers to just stay under an umbrella on the sand and keep an eye on you.

Calls you every two hours in advance and helps you reapply sunscreen.

He’s very pale so I feel like he burns pretty easily, meaning he needs to reapply super frequently otherwise he will become a tomato. He brings like three bottles of the good shit. Tch, rich boy.

If you ask him to build a sandcastle, he will pretend to be annoyed but do it anyways. Ends up finding it kind of enjoyable.

He has the maids prepare a nice picnic basket for the two of you!! It’s got all your favorite foods plus grape juice cuz y’know.

If any creepy peeps approach you, don’t worry. He brought his vision and his claymore.

Of course, he won’t have to resort to such violent lengths. Everyone in Mondstadt knows who Diluc is and they probably know you’re his s/o, so they’re usually smart enough to mind their own business.

If they don’t, don’t worry. Diluc’s glare is more than enough to scare them away.

All in all I definitely recommend a beach day with him! I’ll give it a solid 8/10 (-2 for not wearing floaties and getting in the water with you or letting you teach him how to swim.

🖌Albedo:

You guys definitely 100% take Klee out with you on a beach day.

You guys bring snacks, beach toys like buckets and shovels for optimal sandcastle building, a picnic blanket, etc.

Jean definitely packs a lot more stuff for you guys to take with you than you actually need.

It’s only cuz she’s worried for Klee and is nervous about not being able to go with you guys though! It’s very sweet really.

Klee tries to bomb the fish and cause havoc at the beach 😭

I think Albedo is a good swimmer and gets in with you and Klee so that he can help her (which is very cute omfg)

He’s set total workaholic, as we know, so it took a lot of convincing to get him to put down his experiments and accompany you to the beach (however, he’s particularly weak to yours and klee’s puppy dog eyes so he caved eventually)

Though, looking at you and Klee happily building sandcastles and decorating them with pretty seashells of all shapes and colors, he can’t really find it in himself to complain.

He, of course, takes this opportunity to take out his sketchbook and draw the waves, seagulls, you… Of course he won’t let you see the sketch book no sir. He’s a bit embarrassed to be honest, but an artist such as himself recognizes beauty when he sees it so he simply had to draw you. (God I love him so much)

If a creepy person approaches you,- well don’t worry. The sight of a small arsonist child blowing up fish is enough to scare them away 🥰

At the end of the day, all three of you are all ticketed out. Albedo has to carry Klee back to Mondstadt because the poor baby fell asleep the moment you started drying her hair with the beach towel. You’re, of course, carrying back Dodoco and your bags. (You also manage to sneak a peak at Albedo’s sketchbook and find some very pretty drawings of you and Klee with your sandcastle)

At the end of the day, you guys tuck Klee in and read her a bedtime story (she woke up and insisted). Afterwards Albedo takes you back home and thanks you for coming with you and Klee (which you ofc say wasn’t a problem because how could you not???)

All in all? I’ll give it a solid 10/10. You’ve got tasty food, fun times, your boyfriend and his cute kid adoptive sister (yes I am very biased idc)

🦋Xiao:

I think it would take a lot of convincing to get Xiao to go out on a beach date with you.

He’ll probably see it as a distraction getting in the way of his slaying of monsters and demons.

However, he also worships the grounds you walk on (hehe, simp XD), so I don’t think it’ll take that much convincing on your part (especially because it’s is self appointed duty to keep you safe so if you insist on going with or without him, he supposes he’ll have to go)

Is definitely a bit tense at first. He doesn’t know how to let loose and chill so while you’re sun tanning on a beach chair he’s like 🧍‍♂️ahdgshjsjd

Eventually calms down a bit though! You get him to relax and eat some almond tofu you brought along with you. It definitely gets him to perk up.

I don’t think he would mind getting into the water but I do think he’d rather walk along the shore and collect pretty seashells and sea glass.

He later gives the ones he deems pretties to you (he hands them over to you with a blush on his face and pretends it’s not a big deal and he definitely gets all pouty and grouchy when you coo at how adorable he is)

As for creeps, Xiao is both intimidating and well known in Liyue. No one is brave enough (or, let’s be honest, dumb enough) to approach you with any bad intentions.

Sure, Xiao has sworn never to harm a human/citizen of Liyue but that doesn’t mean he can’t scare the absolute shit out of them.

I think Xiao would definitely enjoy a beach day 🥺🥺. He’d find it very relaxing to go out with you and just hear the sound of waves and feel the sand under his feet.

He’d definitely hint at wanting to do it again later. Of course, he won’t tell you. No, that’s a foolish mortal activity and he has much better things to do.

Wait no, don't turn around, yes he will go with you next month.

All in all, I give Xiao a 9/10. It’s a very relaxing day (which he deserves 😤). And you get to see a whole new side of him.

💎Ningguang:

OK SO ORIGINALLY I WASN'T GONNA WRITE ONE FOR HER (at least not in this post) BUT THEN I THOUGHT OF LADY NINGGUANG TAKING YOU TO A WHOLE ASS PRIVATE BEACH

She knows you don’t care about how exclusive the beach you go to is (in fact, the fact that you don’t care about where you are or what you do is one of the things that make her fall more and more madly in love with you) but you deserve the best so she’s gonna go all out.

She’s a busy lady so days like this where the two of you get to go somewhere and be together are few and far between.

She knows it’s hard to be in a relationship with someone who is busy 24/7, so she appreciates how you remain by her side despite all hardships. (Y’all are a whole ass power couple istg)

The two of you spend your day relaxing. Sun bathing, drinking piña coladas, maybe taking a dip in the ocean. It’s all very pleasant!

Ningguang doesn’t quite feel like the type of person who would sit in the sand and make sandcastle, however you’re more than welcome to make some yourself. She finds it endearing <3

If you insist on her helping, she’ll eventually comply. She loves you too much to say no. I feel like she’ll either be terrible at it or like a total architect.

Sand is technically like tiny rocks right? So maybe she can use her vision to help her? If that’s the case, she’s making a replica of the Jade chamber out of sand.

If any creepy person comes up to you don’t worry. Ningguang will buy the whole beach and then use her right of admission as owner to permanently ban them from the beach you’re at.

The only downside to a day at the beach with Ningguang might be that there’s a big chance she’ll be called to tend urgent matters, seeing as she is the Tianquan of the Liyue Qixing and all.

If that does happen, she’ll be sure to make it up to you somehow, whether it be rescheduling or taking care of the matter as soon as possible so that the two of you can get back to your day of relaxation and fun.

All in all?? Lady Ningguang will treat you like total royalty and the two of you will have an amazing time! I give her an 11/10 (she would literally buy a whole beach for you to be comfortable I mean c’mon)

🍃Venti:

BEACH DAYS WITH HIM ARE SO FUN!!

Swimming? Yeah, he’d love to! Sunbathing? Sure! He’ll ever conjure up a light breeze for the two of you. Sandcastle building? WELL OF COURSE WHY DO YOU THING HE BROUGHT ALL THESE BUCKETS AND SHOVELS?

No but seriously, he might be the best person out of everyone here to go to the beach with. He’s fun, free spirited, and he’s a traveling bard who’s been alive long enough to know where all the best beaches in Teyvat are. (He also knows a guy- er, well, dragon I suppose- who is willing to fly them to any place).

He’ll play some soft tunes while you doze under the sun.

HE PICKS PRETTY SHELLS AND GIFTS THEM TO YOU!!!

He will bring booze. I’m pretty sure this is a necessity. If you’re a little upset about it, he’ll probably “eheh~” his way out of it. That slick bastard.

If you really insist on him not drinking, he won’t consume much alcohol.

If some creepy person approaches you and tries to ruin you your day of beach time fun, all of their stuff will suddenly be blown away, causing them to scramble back to their spot and (almost embarrassingly) flail around trying to catch everything. What a shame…

At the end of the day, he’d be a little sad to leave. Definitely makes plans about tbe two of you going back soon.

I gotta give him a 10/10 he’s just so fun omg.

[nemeseos-noctua]

Hey darlings! Can I request Xiao, Albedo and Diluc separately carrying reader around for a day because of a bet they lost? Love yall! <3

𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: diluc, albedo, xiao (separate) x gn!reader

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: not proofread

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: THIS TOOK SO LONG I’M SO SORRY ANON (i was busy and didnt feel like writing anything for like a month ☹ but im back and ill try and write more, esp since my school year ends in like a month and a half)

oh you could see so much 

Diluc was so tall.... it was great 

“is this what height feels like?”

despite you enjoying every second of it, the pyro typhoon was slowly suffering

HIS REPUTATION !! WHAT HAPPENS TO HIS REPUTATION ???

the answer is nothing (except that Donna is jealous and pissed)

“How much longer are we going to have to do this for?”

“The whole day, obviously! That was the bet!” you cheered, clearly enjoying where you were currently. His suffering for your enjoyment.

The red-haired man sighed and continued walking around, eventually drifting over to the giant tree in the middle of Windrise. 

He stops next to the base of the oak tree, slightly lowering himself down. You weren’t exactly surprised that he could carry your weight, since he wields a giant claymore as a weapon, but you couldn’t feel not just the tiniest bit bad for him.

you guys were playing a guessing game as Diluc took a shift at Angel’s Share last night

“how much is venti gonna drink tonight”

you won, obviously

that damn bard drank at least 50,000 mora’s worth in dandelion wine

HE DOESNT EVEN PAY FOR IT IN MORA 

and thats how you lose money in a business, children

You lowered yourself off of the man’s back, assuming that’s what he wanted. 

“Hey, sorry about the bet...” you trail off, taking a seat on the grass and letting the wind graze your face.

“It’s fine. A bet is a bet.”

“Yeah but--” you stopped. There was absolutely no way that you would win this debate. 

The pyro user looked at you after a few seconds of silence. You usually talked a lot more than this and strongly believed in sharing your thoughts, so what was stopping you now?

“You know what? Let’s just go to the winery and take a walk there together.” You begrudgingly got up from your spot from the cool grass and started to walk in the direction of the winery.

There were a few hurried steps coming from behind you, assumingly from Diluc, but you paid no mind to him. He probably just didn’t wanna leave you behind--

“Woah-- hey! Diluc, wh--”

“A bet is a bet.”

you found yourself on his shoulders this time

dude really ran up and lifted you onto his shoulders

like dipped under you

mans said “woOOP” 

you would kill him but hes too hot for that 😉

You sighed.

A bet is a bet. 

you were taller than the alchemist

not by much, but it was enough that it was wacky as hell

(i hc that Albedo isn’t super strong so he’s struggling even tho he’s a sword user-- tbh i thought that he was a catalyst at first lmao)

it’s so funny because Albedo is literally holding you like a baby being burped while doing some sort of experiment

“Stop kicking before I spill something on the both of us, (Y/N).”

“No.”

The blond sighed and continued to work on some kind of potion. 

It was comforting to be in someone’s embrace again. How long’s it been? Years, maybe...

And soon enough, you fell asleep while the scholar cradled you in his arms. 

i can assure you that he was FREAKING OUT

he was scared that he would wake you up if he put you down on the bed that the he occasionally would sleep on (he survives on caffeine)

but he needed to do this experiment 

like... NEEDED to 

“../N)..? (Y/N), wake up.” You whined in response, not really processing anything that was coming out of Albedo’s mouth. “You won’t be able to sleep later tonight if you continue with your nap.”

“..what time is it..?” you let out a large yawn and covered your mouth. Since you had just woken up, your brain had refused to function properly. And with that, it took you a while to realize that you were laying on a bed. 

Albedo was still working on something (you weren’t sure what) but stopped to wake you up.

he’s cute

but he almost blew up

impressive how you didn’t wake up

“Only around sunset. Come, I’ll make dinner.”

the least i could say is that Xiao was not pleased.

HE WANTED TO COMPLAIN SO MUCH

but he didn’t wanna hurt your feelings 🥺

karmic debt was nothing compared to you feeling sad /j 

karmic debt is horrible :( poor xiao

also being in crowded places was not fun for him

LANTERN RITE !!  he did think that the xiao lanterns were cute 

“Ooh, ooh, look! It’s a food stand,” you excited pointed out from on the yaksha’s back, “wanna get something? There might be almond tofu!”

“Only if there’s--”

“--almond tofu. Yeah, yeah, I know. It’s the only thing you can stomach. Mr. Dream Eater...”

That must’ve struck a chord in him. The “young” man kissed his teeth, showing a hostile attitude that he had never done to you. 

“Just because I agreed to let you win doesn’t mean that I won’t go back on it.” 

secretly he didn’t 

he really enjoyed your company and hates everyone else 

funny because he desires company and love but WHATEVER !

xiao loves you in some type of way 

he adores you and all of your stupidity

and sometimes you mess up and it’s fine

it’s just a “mortal thing” 

(he also makes mistakes but shh)

You remained silent until the two of you reached the food stand, filled with savoury smells and delicious aromatics. Though there was no almond tofu.

“You wanna try somewhere else? I don’t mind going to find a different spot.”

Xiao grumbled. Not like you were the one walking and exerting energy to get from one place to another. 

“Fine.”

“Look... I promise this is gonna be the last place. If we don’t find any, we can go back to Wangshu Inn and ask Verr Goldet for some,” you reasoned. 

The adeptus remained silent, but didn’t show any signs of displeasure. You took it as a yes.

“Wanmin restaurant has some, I think! It’s the best of the best in Liyue too.”

“This better be worth it.”

“Don’t worry, it will! I’ll even pay for it and everything!” He sighed, making his way toward the restaurant. Honestly, you didn’t wanna even get anything to eat. For the most part, it was just spoiling Xiao for once since he never went anywhere and only ate the almond tofu Verr Goldet made at the Inn.

I hope that you can be happy, at least for today.

[yikesharringrove]

Show Pony

Chapter 2: Legends Never Die

Read on Ao3

-

Billy was watching porn when Steve texted.

He’s never clicked out of a video so fucking fast in his life.

The message just read hey, this is steve :) which like, of course, the fucker uses little emoticons. Of course , he types out little smiley faces. It’s so dumb. It’s so cute.

And Billy just stared at it. One hand still on his dick, the other hovering over the keyboard.

What the fuck does he reply?

Obviously, Steve knows it’s Billy. Like. Duh.

So he just tapped out a little Hey.

Steve texted back almost immediately.

you have a good day? Billy found himself grinning maniacally, so he rolled over to hold his pillow close to his chest, burying his chin into it. He didn’t wanna deal with the fact that this stupid adorable cowboy was making him smile and flush. Stupid.

Yeah, it was nice. Way too hot, but nice.

lol try wearing jeans in that heat. sweatin through my damn saddle. Billy laughed into his pillow.

Jesus, you’re such a fuckin hick. Billy bit his tongue when he pressed send.

And Steve just sent back >:(. And God. He’s so cute. Billy. Hates him.

And then Billy’s phone buzzed twice, another brand new text from Steve.

One that made Billy’s heart fucking stop.

i have the day off tomorrow. no tiedown on the schedule. you should come by and we could hang

Which sounded like. A date. It sounded like a fucking date. And Billy wanted to ask. If Steve’s invitation was for a goddamn date.

But like, he can’t just ask. Can he? Is that weird? Okay, maybe he’ll just-

Should I bring Max?

Right? Like if Steve says to bring his little sister, then there’s no way it’s a date. Because, who would want their date to bring their little sister? People who are just hanging out as friends, that’s who.

was hoping it'd just be you and me

And hoo boy. Hoo boy. That’s. That’s a fucking. That’s a date.

Then yeah. Just you and me.

And Steve sent him another little :) because the fucker loves his emoticon smiley faces. They’re not even, like, actual emojis. Steve doesn’t take the time to use fucking apostrophes, but he does type out little faces.

And maybe Billy’s spending too much time thinking about the smiley little shits.

But, like. It’s just. It’s Steve. And it’s a cute fucking thing that Steve does.

Billy’s pretty much obsessed with him by now.

And maybe Billy should ask for, like, a time to meet. But he was halfway through a video and his cock’s still hard and kinda starting to ache, pressed against the mattress where it was. He rolled over, slid his hand back into his shorts, and wrapped his fingers around the base of himself.

So it’s easy just to, slide it up. Run his fingers along his length. Pretend his rough hand is Steve’s rough hand. Pretend the tight vice grip is Steve’s mouth. Hot and slick around him.

He could picture Steve, on his knees in the dirt, those tight fucking jeans beginning to stain at the knees, those big pretty eyes looking at him so reverently, so softly.

And he came all over his hand, pictured those pink pretty lips covered with cum. Imagined scooping it on his fingers, pressing them into Steve’s mouth, making him lick them clean.

It wasn’t even the most depraved fantasy Billy’s ever had. But it was for sure in his top five best orgasms. No doubt about it.

He wiped his hand on the sheets, turning onto his side, staring at the short little conversation with Steve.

Thinking about their fucking date tomorrow.

Max was on his ass the second he woke up.

She cornered him as he was coming out of the bathroom, making him startle and nearly smack her.

“The fuck you doing out here, Shitbrid?”

“What are we doing today?”

“ We aren’t doing shit all. I will be heading out. Soon.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, jutting her jaw in a way he absolutely knows she learned from him.

“Are you going to the rodeo?” she hissed through her teeth at him. “Are you going to see-”

“That’s none ‘a your fuckin’ business.” He pushed past her, lumbering down the hall, almost making it into his bedroom before she slipped inside with him, slapping his elbow and kicking the door closed.

“Are you going on a date ?”

Billy glared at her. He clenched his jaw, speaking through gritted teeth.

“Pretty sure we agreed not to fucking talk about this shit here.”

She pursed her lips, shifting her jaw.

“Just nod or shake your head.”

Billy kept his head very still.

She kicked him once in the shin before stomping out of his room, nearly slamming the door, catching it at the last minute, and closing it quietly.

Neil didn’t approve of doors slamming in his house.

It was rule number. Three probably. First rule was don’t be a smartass. Second rule was don’t be Billy. That was kind of an unspoken rule. But it was there.

And Billy was faced with his newest dilemma.

What does he wear?

Because it’s gonna be another hot fucking day, and his typical date outfits have more, more.

He’s got one clean pair of cut-offs left. Okay. Yes. And he puts on a printed button-up shirt. Leaves it almost all the way unbuttoned, because, like, of course, he does. He’s got a good body. He wants Steve to see it.

He’ll be mostly cool, and he looks better than he did last time he saw Steve.

Black Converse complete the look, and he maybe spends more time than he usually would putting his hair into a ponytail, using one of Max’s bright scrunchies.

She’ll get pissed if she notices it but. Whatever. He steals them from her all the fucking time.

He hasn’t looked at his phone all morning, figured he could head over to the rodeo, and whenever Steve texted, he’d play it cool and act like he wasn’t already there.

But, cowboy hick Steve was obviously an early riser. As the most recent text Billy has is from that cowboy hick Steve. At six. In the morning.

you wanna meet up around ten?

It was currently just past nine.

Does Billy head up there now and wander around the grounds for a bit?

Yes. Yes, he does. Because frankly, he looks gay as fuck in this outfit and he should probably dip before his dad sees.

He sends Steve a thumbs up and the three dots show up almost immediately, showing Steve typing.

you got a car right? can you pick me up outside of the parking lot? i gotta get outta here

And Fuck. Billy knows that feeling.

No problem. You wanna get breakfast? I know a good diner if you’re into that kinda thing.

hell yeah im into that :)

Ah, yes. There was that little happy face just in time to give Billy lots of nice heart palpitations.

Great. That’s what he needs. To get sappy and gross over Steve’s emoticons. Again.

He slipped out of his house without interference, taking a lap around the block just to kill time before setting off to the fairgrounds.

He was trying to make his car look presentable, shoving the few gum wrappers Max left by the gear shift into his pocket, brushing off any stray cigarette ash with one of the baby wipes in the glove box.

And by the time he reached the fairgrounds, he saw Steve skulking along the front of the parking lot, hopping over cracks in the sidewalk like the cutest little bunny.

It was the most adorable thing in the fucking world.

Billy pulled up next to him, blaring the horn and watching Steve startle at the sound.

He was wearing cut-off denim shorts like Billy’s, and a goddamn crop top. It had the silhouette of a horse on its hind legs, its mane flowing in the wind behind it, and Harrington American Rodeo brandished across his chest. It was cut just at his waistline, where his body nipped in right above his hips.

Steve smiled his pretty smile at Billy, just about skipping around the front of the car to slide into the passenger seat.

And Billy tried not to think about how fucking good Steve looked in the passenger seat of his car, those long fucking legs all on display, his thighs, thick and pale, covered in dark hair.

“Hi,” Steve was leaning with one elbow on the center console, putting himself in Billy’s space, and Billy was thankful for his dark aviator sunglasses, as his eyes went wide and probably panicked with Steve moving in so close.

Because if Steve was leaning in to kiss him, that kinda feels like a lot. And Billy’s not a prude, not by any means but he's, he’s got lines, and rules, and-

Steve just knocked his head into Billy’s shoulder, leaning back to buckle his seatbelt, like headbutting Billy’s shoulder was casual and normal.

And fuck.

Billy’s in so deep for this guy he barely fucking knows.

All he could do was push the car forward, and will away the flush on his cheeks. And pretend like he hadn’t jerked off to the person sitting next to him less than twelve hours ago.

“So. Billy. Tell me about yourself.” Steve shifted in his seat, turning to look right at Billy. “All I know is that you’ve got a kid sister, a cool car, and that you’re really hot.”

Billy smirked, turning to look at Steve over his glasses, found Steve biting his bottom lip demurely.

“Well, there’s not much else to know .”

“Oh, come on. Where are you from? How old are you? Shit, probably shoulda asked that sooner. Please, tell me you’re not fifteen or something.”

“I’m literally driving, right now. And relax, Pretty Boy. I’m eighteen next month.”

“Okay. Okay, good. I’m eighteen, by the way. Just so you know, that I’m not fifteen.” Billy shook his head, rolling his eyes with a smile. “But I still want answers to the other questions.”

“Well, I’m from here. Born and raised in San Diego. Uh, I graduated high school in May. And I work at the diner I’m about to take you to, which might be the lamest shit in the world, but they have good pancakes.”

“I like pancakes.” Steve was fiddling with some of the knobs in the car, turning the air conditioner up and down. Billy was just resisting slapping his hand away.

And then he reached for the volume knob on the radio, turning up the Ratt Billy had playing, and audibly scoffed.

“God, I should’ve known you liked this .”

“Yeah? What about it?”

“Just, you know. Sex charged drug-fueled hair metal.”

“Oh my God. What in the fuck ?” He gave Steve as incredulous a look as he could muster. “Are you a housewife from the fifties?”

Steve gave one of his excellent bright laughs at Billy, and Billy’s gut got a little bit gay and a little bit fluttery.

“Alright, Stevie. I’ll bite. What kinda music are you into? And if you say country I’m blowing my fuckin’ brains out.”

“Well, unfortunate then because, yeah. Fuckin’ country, man. Although, I prefer folk.”

“See, you call my music sex-charged and drug-fueled, at least I’m not listening to posers rant about their tractors.”

“Oh, no. I hate that shit as much as you do. I mean like, Johnny Cash. Willie Nelson, you know? Emmylou Harris, Marty Robbins, Miss Dolly. The good stuff. There’s like, a few modern artists that are doing the same kinda thing that I like. It’s all just stories and good music.”

“That’s all my music is. Stories set to music. And, you say my shit is drug-fueled, you do know that Willie Nelson is famous for being a stoner? And that Johnny Cash publicly dealt with addiction and all that?”

“Well, yeah, but they’ve got class.”

“Okay, Cowboy. I’ll let you die on that fuckin’ hill while I party it up on mine to some eighties metal.”

And Steve reached out to shove Billy lightly, laughing while he did it.

“Agree to fucking disagree then. Just take me to pancakes and don’t try to reason with me about shitty music.”

“Then change the subject. Tell me other things about you besides your terrible music taste.”

Steve leaned back in his seat, blowing out a puff of air.

“Uh, I mean. Jeez. I don’t do much besides the rodeo, you know? Just movin’ all over the country.”

“That must be. Exhausting.”

Steve reached out to brush his fingers against the dashboard mindlessly.

“It’s not so bad. I try to make friends in the towns, you know? Makes it kinda fun.”

“Where were you born?”

“Indiana. Really small town. My mom and I stayed there for three years while my father traveled around. I’ve been on the road since.”

“Holy shit. Since you were three? Did you, like, go to school?”

“No. Uh, I actually have a tutor that’s on the road with us, and I’m. You know. Supposed to get my high school diploma soon. I’m behind schedule since,” he waved his hand flippantly. He was staring at his lap, playing with the frayed hem of his shorts. And Billy was grasping for another subject as Steve’s cheeks went red. Because obviously school, had struck a nerve.

“What kinda horse is June?”

“She’s an American quarter horse. That’s the usual type for most rodeo events. They’re good ranch horses because they’re a little more compact. I’ve been with June for five years now, and she’s a beast. I’ve got two others with me, on rotation so that none of them get too tired doing the shows over and over. June, Patsy, and Loretta. They’re all quarter horses, and each one is only about fourteen and a half hands tall. I like my horses a bit smaller for tie-down.”

“I understood, honestly, like, nothing of what you just said.”

Steve tossed his head back, laughing loudly over the radio at Billy’s confusion.

He laughed a lot.

Billy liked it.

“Don’t worry, I’ll teach you rodeo slang. You’ll be a natural,” Steve said, reaching out to where Billy’s right hand was resting on the gearshift, wrapping his finger’s around Billy’s wrist.

“What about their names?”

“All ladies of country. Loretta Lynn, Patsy Cline, and June Carter. Carter-Cash, I guess. She married Johnny but had a career in her own right.”

“Jesus, you’re a fuckin’ hick.”

“You’ve said that before. Just because I’m in the rodeo-”

“No, it’s because you’re in the rodeo, and listen to country music, and wear fucking cowboy boots -”

“They are literally made for riding horses, okay? That’s why they were invented .”

Billy rolled his eyes again, but he was smiling brightly as he pulled into the diner parking lot.

It wasn’t too busy for a Sunday morning. Billy bets it’ll pick up in an hour or so for the brunch crowd.

He began working at the diner three years ago, bussing tables and washing dishes, getting paid under the table because technically, he was too young to work. He was a server now, usually taking the evening dinner shifts to miss that time when his dad was home from work.

The bell jingled above their heads as Billy held the door open for Steve, and Billy stuck his tongue out at the kitchen staff, leaning over the counter to swipe a few menus from the stack.

He led Steve to a booth in the back corner, waving at Lorraine, the older woman who was working their section, gesturing to the booth for Steve to take a seat.

“Wow. You’ve totally got this place on lock.”

Billy grinned at him, leaning against the wall to stretch his legs up on the booth next to him.

“I’ve worked here a few years. Kinda done all the staff positions. It’s a nice place.”

“Well, then what do you recommend?” Steve carefully opened the laminated menu, his big eyes flicking over the pictures on the side of every dish.

“Pancakes are good, so are the waffles though, if you’re into that. I like the full breakfast. Eggs, bacon or sausage, hash browns, pancakes, or toast. Kinda the best of everything.”

Steve snapped his menu shut, smiling softly at Billy.

“I’m trusting you with my breakfast here. It better be good .”

Lorraine approached their table, already pouring Billy a cup of coffee and sliding it to him along the table.

“You really love us that much you find your way in here on your day off?”

“Only you, Lorraine. Everybody else can fuck off for all I care.”

She shook her head, rolling her eyes at Billy.

“You want the usual cook-up?”

“Yes, please.”

She took his unopened menu, turning and smiling brightly at Steve.

“What can I get for you, Darling.”

Steve’s eyes were wide when he looked up at her, his cheeks starting to flush.

“Uh, just, the same as Billy, please.”

“You want a coffee?”

“No, Ma’am. Just a water for me please.” He handed his menu back, giving her a bright smile, his cheeks a soft rosy red.

Lorraine winked at Billy, nodding her head once in Steve’s general direction. Billy waved her off before she could say something embarrassing.

“Sorry, I get kinda weird sometimes.” Steve had pulled a napkin out of the dispenser on their table and was looking down at it, tearing off little chunks and rolling them into balls.

“That’s okay. Lorraine gets it. Plus, you were polite, and that’s all that matters. I wouldn’t be caught dead with you if you were an ass to servers.”

“Oh, God. My dad is such an ass when it comes to, really any staff. Like, servers, or, frankly, most of the people that work for him. Don’t even get me started on the animal carers. I mean, that’s probably the most important job at the whole rodeo, and he’s been trying to dock pay left, right, and fucking center.” Steve rolled his big eyes, huffing like Max.

“Wait, so your dad is like, the head of the whole operation?”

“My name is Steve Harrington,” and Steve pointed at his shirt, the name Harrington emblazoned over the horse.

“Oh damn. I thought that name was familiar when I saw the shirt. Figured I had just seen the rodeo name or something.”

“Nope. That’s me. A whole Harrington. My great-grandpa started the rodeo. He was, like, an actual ranch hand. Started one in the town we’re from. My grandpa was the one who got the idea to take it on the road. My dad came up through it like I did. He was in steer roping. And basically, his end goal is that I start running the whole show in a few years. Take over for him.”

“And, you don’t want to?”

“Nah. I don’t really have a brain for business. Don’t have a brain for much other than riding and tie-down, honestly. Don’t know the first thing about how to run a traveling rodeo.”

“Yeah, me neither.”

Steve smiled at him, but his eyes seemed sad, and his smile was tight.

“You got plans for next year? College or anything?”

“Nah. I think college is, on the horizon, but I’m taking a gap year. Saving up to move out and pay for school and everything. Probably gonna go to community college to save some money. And then maybe grad school?”

“That’s smart, you know? Finding ways to save up. My dad is debating pushing college on me. Like, if I do run the business, there’s some shit I should know going into it, right? But I think he also sees that I’m way too dumb for college, and, like, I don’t need a degree to get hired. I’ll just,” Steve made an upwards sweeping gesture with his right hand. A gesture that Billy understood to vaguely mean nepotism.

“What would you rather do? If not run the thing.”

“I like tie-down, and I could feasibly do it for a long time. I could branch into other events, too, like steer roping and all that. Same idea as calf roping but a different animal. Literally. It’s a steer. But I’d be content just doing the events until I croak. I have absolutely no desire to rise through the ranks, or whatever.” Steve rolled his eyes, balling up the little napkin wads he had made into another napkin from the dispenser. Billy appreciated it. He’s had to clean up crap like that from this very floor. “I just love being around the rodeo. The animals and all the people. I don’t really wanna be anywhere else.”

“At least you have something you love. Like, you’d be happy to do that for the rest of your life, and not in an I’ve got nothing better to do way, but in an, I’m passionate about this way. A lot of people don’t really. Get that.” Billy included.

It’s not that he doesn��t have passions, it’s just that they’re not necessarily sustainable to him.

He knows he’s dangling by a thread with his father. Knows after his eighteenth birthday, he should be ready to be kicked out or asked to pay rent at any time. He needs a career that’ll get him some fucking money if he wants to get out and cut off his dad entirely. He can’t be forced to go crawling back to him because he wanted to self-publish his gay ass poetry that never took off or drum in a rock band that went nowhere.

To name a few.

“Yeah, I mean. Sometimes I think that I probably would’ve never set foot in a rodeo if I wasn’t literally born into one, so I kinda wonder who I’d be if this wasn’t everything I knew, but I still really love doing it, and it’s something that I’m actually good at, which speaks volumes.”

They were interrupted by Lorraine returning, placing two identical plates in front of them, a glass of water for Steve, and pulling hot sauce and ketchup out of her apron pocket.

“You two let me know if you need anything else.”

Steve beamed at her, thanking her softly and Billy’s heart fluttered like a stupid idiot.

They tucked in, Steve shoving food into his mouth until his cheeks were bulging, chewing aggressively. It made Billy laugh and nearly spew coffee all over the table.

“I figured you’d have better manners, being the heir to a rodeo dynasty or whatever.”

Steve pulled a face, showing Billy the chewed-up food in his mouth.

“How’s that for manners?”

It was actually fucking funny watching him try to swallow everything stuffed in his mouth.

“It’s borderline painful watching you eat.”

Billy laughed as Steve flicked a piece of scrambled egg at him. It landed on his shoulder. Billy slurped it right off his shirt.

“See! Now, who's the one with no table manners?”

“Still you, Sugar. Still you.”

Breakfast was, like, actually fun.

Not that Billy was expecting it to be shitty, but he wasn’t expecting it to be as carefree, as easy, as it was. He and Steve just, kinda, clicked.

Steve was easy to talk to. He was easy to listen to, easy to laugh with, and even easier to look at.

He’s kinda, everything Billy has ever wanted in a person.

He slid his hand into Billy’s as they were leaving the diner, smiling shyly at Billy when he looked over at him.

And Billy stopped in his tracks, right there in broad daylight, tugging Steve by his hand closer to Billy’s body, sliding his hands up his arms, feeling over Steve’s shoulders, and down his back to settle on his hips. Steve wrapped both arms around Billy’s shoulders, leaning closer to him, almost pressing his whole body against Billy’s.

And it was easy. Kissing Steve was just as easy as talking to him, as laughing with him, as looking at him. It was simple and nice and made Billy feel something he really didn’t want to put too much thought into.

Something that was decidedly not easy.

They pulled away from one another, both their lips red and slick.

Billy opened the passenger door, and Steve folded himself into the seat with a ridiculous amount of grace.

And as Billy drove them aimlessly through the city, he tried not to think of the expiration date on this whole thing, on the dates listed on the back of Steve’s t-shirt.

They’ve got a little under a month together.

And Billy was determined to make that the best goddamn month of both of their natural lives.

[spencerreidimagines]

Chance Encounters

//Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: none

Prompt(s): Sharing an umbrella

'Ah, there it is...' Spencer thought to himself, a slight smile tugging at his lips. That lilting voice that would seep through his apartment walls throughout the day. It was so light, peaceful.

Spencer paused for a moment and shut his eyes, his ear turned to the door to salvage each note, the book that he was reading lightly resting down on his lap. With each breath that rolled through his lungs, he further released himself, and sunk into his chair, his ear perched and alert, hanging on every note. This bodiless voice has been a treasure to him ever since he'd moved in; everyday, around noon, he would make his way out to the living room with a book on hand, and await the song that seems to soothe his qualms and aches.

There were times when he wished he had the courage to go and introduce himself to the woman behind this lovely voice, but those times would pass as he would think himself into spirals of doubt, and settle on leaving things as they are. This is merely a highlight to his daily life, no need to complicate it with personal introductions.

Lost in his thoughts, he'd missed the abrupt stop in her singing, a thump as the door snapped shut after her, and a latch click followed by a light tumble of steps down the hallway. His phone beeped soon after that, causing him to startle a bit before digging into his pocket.

Morgan: You coming tonight, pretty boy?

Spencer furrowed his brow, and tapped back,

Spencer: We had plans tonight?

Morgan: Yes, my cousin is performing in a show downtown. Don't tell me you forgot, I just told you yesterday

Spencer: Oh, right! yes! I will be there.

Morgan: Well hurry it up, the shows about to start.

Spencer: Right. On my way

Spencer then shut his phone then scrambled to gather his things; It's not often that he has the opportunity to see live theatre, so he jumps at any time that he can to experience it. He then strode across the room, stepped into his shoes and fled out of the door, hoping to make it on time.

...

Upon a dazzling stage, a woman's spine bowed to the will of her partner's hand, as her dress fluttered about the white stage light above them, her legs dipping and curling like the wind and her arm stretched beyond her hand, held in an elegant point. Spencer's heart sped with an inward breath of surprise, his eyes glued to the stage before him and fluttering with every movement.

Derek bumped Spencer's shoulder, a knowing smile rested on his lips, "You digging my cousin, poindexter?"

Spencer startled and flicked his eyes next to him for a moment, "Shut, up, I'm trying to pay attention," mumbled, skirting around answering his question, a sporting half smile.

Morgan chuckled, "Hey, it's cool, man," he righted himself in his seat, "I'll introduce you two after the show,"

A twitch of his lips, and a spare glance confirmed Spencer's delight with his offer before they both righted themselves in their seats for the rest of the night.

….

As Spencer began to clap, he scanned the stage for the dancer that struck his mind the most. When he found her, her smile was so wide that her eyes nearly crinkled shut with mirth, and she clutched her stage-mates hand in thanks, and bounded off of the stage with the speed and determination of a newborn calf that had just learned to run.

Morgan sent a side-eye Spencer's way and flicked his head towards the openings on the sides of the stage. He went to step out of the aisle, then caught himself and leaned back towards his companion, "Don't be too nervous, pretty boy, you've got nothing to worry about." He then chuckled at the dissipating storm of doubt in Spencer's eye, then threw his coat over his jacket and sauntered down the aisle beside their seats.

Spencer's breath tumbled out of him as he processed Morgan's words, yet couldn't fight the hand that rose to brush his curls back from his forehead. He then gathered his coat in his arms, and fell into step after his friend backstage.

...

Spencer entered upon an embrace between the two of them, with (y/n)'s face spilling over in warm glee  peeking over Morgan's shoulder. The warmth from her smile spread to his cheeks as he absentmindedly followed the nooks of her crinkled nose.

"I'm so glad you could make it," she squeezed from her throat, her breath caught by the strength of their hug, "I was so worried that you were gonna miss the chance to see if all of my hard work paid off."

"You think I'd miss this?" Morgan asked incredulously as they pulled apart, "you've been talking my ear off about it for months" They shared a chuckle and he patted her head, "You did great kid, I'm proud of you."

Her smile merely grew, and her eyes lit up at this sentiment, "I'm proud of me too." She said then punctuated it with a sharp nod before catching spencer's as he awkwardly stood by the entrance and picked at the lining of his coat. Nerves were set alight as she met eyes with Morgan once more, and discretely pointed in his direction mouthing, "Is that him?" with a slight giddy smile ghosting across her lips.

Morgan nodded, sporting that same knowing smile from before, "Go get 'im, tiger," he said as he stepped to the side to allow her to pass.

With a steady breath, she wiped her already clammy palms along her tights, and feigned a confident walk in his direction, her nerves still rumbling in her stomach, 'I didn't expect him to be so cute,' she thought to herself, as she stopped before him and slightly waved her hand to get his attention.

"Hi, you must be Spencer," she began, offering an open handshake to him. He startled a bit when he heard her voice, then offered her a small smile as he fumbled his jacket around until he got a hand free to meet hers, "My name is (y/n), Derek has told me so much about you." She finished with an embarrassed chuckle making her cheeks warm.

"Morgan's talked about me?" he responded, surprised and confused as he looked up to Morgan for confirmation, and only getting a thumbs up and an wink before turning his eyes back down to the woman before him.

"Uh-huh," she confirmed, "all good things, don't worry."

He chuckled as he thrust his hand into his pocket, "I would hope so," they shared an awkward smile before their eyes broke as they searched the room for something else to say to each other. "You were amazing tonight." Spencer settled on.

(y/n) giggled a little, bashful that he had noticed her on the stage filled with so many others, "Oh, thanks. I'm sure Derek has talked your ear off about how much I would vent to him after rehearsals."

Spencer sucked in through his teeth and rocked back on his heels, "Oh, yeah, this piece really handed it to you from what I've heard."

"That doesn't even begin to cover it," she responded through rolled eyes and a sigh, "I had to curate an entirely new work ethic for this show...it was worth it though." she added as an afterthought, a light smile rested on her lips.

"Was it?" he asked, a curious wrinkle in his brow.

(y/n)'s smile grew slightly, "Mhm, the exhaustion feels earned rather than expected. It's honestly what keeps me coming back to this stage."

"Earned exhaustion, huh?" He muttered, more to himself than anything, "That's certainly a new description of something that's usually disliked by most."

"I guess I'm not like most people then," she responded, with a shrug, "I'm not saying that I'm in a rush to be tired, but this tiredness is usually a sign of a good show for me. If I'm not tired when I get back, then I didn't give as much to that night's show as I should've."

"Hm, that seems like a pretty harsh rating system."

"Believe me, many of cast mates would disagree," she said, her pushing a tasteless chuckle from her chest, "But the beauty of it is, if I feel I didn't do as good as I should've, I get to come back and do it better the next day."

He matched her smile with intrigue, he had been so oblivious about the vigor of this field, and he'd found himself yearning for more elaboration from (y/n); she seems to talk about it with so much warmth and distant glee in her eyes. And (y/n) found his forward yearning of her daily life so inviting that she would answer any asking question that he threw at her.

"I'm guessing that method only works when you're given the proper chance to rest?" He asked, soft intrigue piercing through her flushed thoughts.

"Oh absolutely," she responded, "I never sacrificed my sleep throughout this entire process; hard work can't really amount to anything if I don't give my body a chance to rest, it'll give out on me," she said with a shadow of dread, as if she had learned that the hard way, "which reminds me that I have to get back home soon."

She drew back from her words with a sorry gaze directed up at him, "I really don't mean to cut this short-"

Her words were sliced with a sharp clap of thunder, followed by rain slapping against the door of the exit. Both of their shoulders jumped at the sound, and soon after, (y/n) slapped her palm against her forehead with a heavy sigh.

Spencer watched this carefully, "You don't have an umbrella, do you?" He asked, to which she shook her head, and began to gnaw on her bottom lip as she thought through her options.

After a moment, Spencer had suddenly remembered the weight of his umbrella in his hand, and in a split second, made the decision to offer, "I could stand outside with you while you wait for a cab; I wouldn't mind."

She smiled, her cheeks growing warm at the thought of being so close to him, "That would be wonderful, but you don't have to, Spencer, I live like ten minutes down the street."

His brows shot up, "So do I." he responded, soft wonder in his voice peppered with nerves, "I, uh, can walk you home if you would like."

"Oh, um, sure." she said, a giddy grin spreading across her cheeks, "I would love that."

As they shrugged their coats onto their shoulders, they shared a rising giddiness in their stomachs at the prospect of being so close to each other under an umbrella, nearly sharing a breath. She didn't miss the shy hand that wrapped around her hip as they exited to the brisk night air, a gentle sheet of rain dribbling down onto them as they fell into step beside one another.

...

"Well, this is me," (y/n) said as they arrived at her apartment building, "Thank you for uh, walking me home." She said sheepishly. "I hope it wasn't too out of your way."

"Of course, and not at all," he responded, shaking out the umbrella and reaching into his pocket for his keys, "I wasn't expecting to be walking myself home too,"

"Oh, this is your apartment building?" She asked incredulously, "Wow, what a wonderful coincidence," she muttered, biting her smile back, "what floor do you live on?"

"Six," he said, as he held the door open for her.

"No way, that's my floor" she muttered, only bearing to look down at her shoes as they approached the elevator, "room number?"

"A5," he said, cautiously.

An airy laugh of disbelief left her lips as the elevator opened for them, "We live across the hall from each other." Her eyes were wide and eager as she stepped into it.

Spencer could only bear to turn to her, as a breath tumbled out of his chest, "You're the voice that I've been hearing," he said, a slight smile turning up the corners of his lips.

"You...can hear when I sing?" She asked, her cheeks burning with embarrassment, before her words began to tumble out of her, "I'm so sorry, I hope I haven't been disturbing you-"

"Oh, no, you've been doing the opposite, honestly," he said, rushed before she shrank back into herself, "I...look forward to hearing your voice from across the hall, i-it's beautiful," his words fell meek and sheepish as he darted his eyes anywhere but hers.

"Really?" She asked shyly, looking up to meet his skittering eyes.

"Yes," he said with a sigh, meeting her wide eyes, "I've...I've been wanting to introduce myself to you for so long."

She giggled and glanced down as the elevator took them to their floor, "Well, I'm glad that Derek has taken care of the hard part for us."

Once the door parted, and the both of them stepped out and made their way to their doors, (y/n) followed the urge to hug him before the night ended; and Spencer was washed in the smell of rain and cherry blossom as she whispered a small good night into his shoulder before entering her room. And for the first time in a long time, Spencer found it within himself to view the coming future with a tentative excitement bubbling in his core.

[megalony]

She’s a good girl- Part 14

I can’t believe how many parts I’ve written for this Murderer! Ben Hardy series, I hope you will all like it, feedback is always lovely.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez @jonesyaddiction @ambi-and-sunflowers @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me @peterquillzsblog @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg @allauraleigh

Series taglist: @onceuponadetectivedemigod @lelifesaver​

Series masterlist

Summary: (Y/n) is a good girl from a church-going family and her brother, Joe is trying to put Ben behind bars. But when (Y/n) starts to fall for the dangerous killer, things get complicated.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Well it's good news today, the abruption hasn't gotten any bigger, it's still very minor which is the best we could hope for at this stage." The smile on the midwife's face made (Y/n) feel like butterflies were being unleashed in her stomach and flying up to her chest.

They couldn't have hoped for any news better than this right now because the abruption wasn't going to heal or get better because the placenta couldn't just go back to where it should be. But if it hadn't moved and the abruption was still the same then it meant that they had better chances of the baby being fine and not being born premature or with any problems.

(Y/n) sat herself up a bit straighter before she turned her head to look at Ben who was sitting beside her. He would have stayed standing but standing beside (Y/n) like that made him tower over her more than usual and he looked rather intimidating to the midwife too by looming over her as well so he chose to sit instead. He was rubbing his hand over his jaw but it didn't manage to hide the smile on his lips that told (Y/n) he was relieved.

"Does this mean I don't have to be on bed rest?" The hope in (Y/n)'s voice was evident and she didn't bother to try and hide it. She didn't want to spend the next two and a half months sitting in bed or just being cooped up in the house doing nothing. It would be fine for a week or two but then it would just become too routine and too boring for (Y/n).

When Ben caught (Y/n)'s eye his lips curved into a small smirk and he shook his head at her. He just knew she would end up saying or asking something like that but he was afraid she wasn't going to get the answer she wanted to hear.

"It means for now you can do little tasks and try to keep up a normal routine, besides any heavy lifting, but I'm afraid bed rest will have to happen in a month or so. The closer to your due date you get, the more at risk you are of the abruption getting worse." 

(Y/n) looked back over at Ben again before sighing and looking at the monitor with a small smile. Now he heard that she knew he was going to make sure she went on bed rest and there was no getting around it.

"Alright, well I know you were unsure last time, but would you like to know the gender today?" The change of topic made (Y/n)'s smile more genuine and her eyes seemed to study the screen a bit closer like she was trying to figure it out for herself. When they last had a scan (Y/n) didn't really know if she wanted to know the gender, there was a big part of her that wanted to be surprised and keep guessing right up until the birth.

But the other part of (Y/n) wanted to know. She wanted to know if they were having a boy or a girl because that would make it feel more set in stone and it was tiring to keep wondering and contemplating. Ben on the other hand just wanted to know, he didn't like waiting around or guessing, he liked the facts and he wanted the answer.

When (Y/n) looked back at Ben he dipped his head down and motioned his hand out to her to say that it was her choice. It didn't matter whether he wanted to know or not, this wasn't something he wanted to decide it was whether (Y/n) wanted to know or not that mattered. He would go along with whatever she thought best. Ben could see the look in (Y/n)'s eye and the way she was biting her lip told him she really wanted to know now.

"I think we want to find out."

"Okay well... you're going to have a baby boy."

(Y/n) bit her thumb as she looked back at the monitor, trying to stop herself from smiling too widely. She knew deep down she would never care what the gender was but something about having a boy just made her heart jump in her chest. She wanted to know if he would look like a double of Ben- which was what (Y/n) was desperately hoping for- or if he resembled her. She wanted to know what traits he would have and who he would take after.

(Y/n) barely heard what the midwife said after that, her mind was focused on the news they had just received and her eyes were focused on the scan picture in her hands.

When they headed outside into the car park (Y/n) put the picture in her bag before looking up at Ben with narrowed eyes and her head leaning to the side like she was about to chide him. She watched as he pressed a cigarette between his lips and hid the end in his coat sleeve so he could light it without the lighter going off due to the light rain.

"Really? It's raining and you want a smoke?"

"I don't know when I'll get another smoke, can't exactly smoke in the office can I? And I can't smoke in the car around you and the baby."

Ben tipped his chin up to breathe out the smoke in his lungs but his eyes cast down to look at (Y/n). He was heading to the club soon and he could only smoke outside but he already knew there was a pile of paperwork for him to go through when he got there. He wasn't wasting this opportunity to have a smoke now when it could be hours before he got another chance. And he used to smoke rather a lot in the car but he couldn't when (Y/n) was in the car for obvious reasons.

"Alright, come on let's go to the club." (Y/n) shook her head with a small smile before she moved towards the car.

"Really? You want that argument right now?"

"Not in the rain."

Ben's lips curved into a smile but his words weren't any less serious. He watched (Y/n) raise a brow at him before she sat in the car, not wanting to stand around in the rain that was getting heavier. Ben shook his head and leaned his back against the car as he made a point of finishing his smoke before he got in the car.

"Are we going to work now?" (Y/n) turned in her seat so she could look over at Ben properly and she had to bite back a smile when he slowly craned his head to the left to look at her. He looked unimpressed and his lips pursed like she was a child he was going to scold for doing something wrong.

(Y/n) wasn't going to go to the club and try and do everything or overwork herself and Ben had to know that. She just wanted to get back into the routine of going to work and actually doing something rather than sitting around waiting for him to come home. She wasn't ill or at high risk of something happening or her getting any worse right now, (Y/n) was fine and the midwife just confirmed that for them. She didn't want to be treated like she was about to break when she wasn't.

"You think it's wise to go back to work now after we just got the all clear sign? The abruption isn't any worse because you've been resting, I don't think work will keep it that way, do you?"

"But I don't work as a boxer Ben, I'm not going to mess around and punch people or overexert myself. I can still do a lot at work, I can do the rota or the books or sit behind reception, please? If you take me home I'll just walk all the way to the club and walk right in."

(Y/n) didn't work like Ben did, she didn't sit in the office one day and then go out front and challenge the staff to a fight or spar in the gym like he did and (Y/n) didn't go out on odd nights and come back with split knuckles and a bruised face. All she would do was sort out the audits and books and count the money and the stock and she could stay in the office to do that if he really wanted. But if he kept saying no she would end up just making her own way down and using her key card to get in.

"If you walk all the way to the club from home I'll put you straight on maternity leave right then and there." Ben put the keys in the ignition and turned on the heating but he didn't start the car up or start driving yet because he didn't want to drive and argue at the same time.

He wasn't doing this to be rude or ignorant or to be controlling but if (Y/n) tried to challenge him like that he would give it back to her.

"If I put you on the rota and let you come back to work you have to promise me you'll do what the midwife says and go on bed rest when she tells you to. I'm being serious doll, if you make yourself ill or get stressed out he's gonna be even smaller than he is now and that will be a problem."

(Y/n) watched Ben's eyes drift down to her stomach before moving back up to meet her slightly stunned gaze. She moved her hand to rest on her stomach as she thought over what he said and how weird yet exciting it felt to hear Ben refer to their baby like that. The midwife had said earlier that their baby boy was smaller than he should be which was an effect of the abruption and it was likely going to stay that way. He would still grow and develop but the chances were that he would have a low birth weight when he was born. But Ben didn't want to risk that getting any worse if (Y/n) came back to work and ended up doing too much.

"Does that mean I can come back today?"

A sigh escaped Ben's lips and he shook his head with a smile, she was determined he would give her that much.

"Yes, but you're cutting down to half days and don't think you're coming in every day of the week either."

"You're the boss." (Y/n) bit her lip when Ben swatted her thigh, shaking his head at the sarcasm in her voice but he was happy that she was at least agreeing with what he was saying and not arguing over it. Ben really wasn't trying to upset her he was only trying to protect her and make sure she was okay.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Baby, what are you doing up? It's late." A tired smile formed on Ben's lips but there was a quizzical look in his eyes as he kicked off his shoes and walked into the living room. It was about half past one in the morning and (Y/n) was still up and if Ben guessed right he would say she was waiting up for him. He didn't want her to wait up this late for him, he didn't want her to think she had to wait up for him either.

He crouched down beside the sofa and leaned his arm on the edge of the sofa as he looked at (Y/n) with a fond smile. She was curled up with her knees as close to her rounded stomach as she could get and her arms held to her chest under a blanket. Her head was laid on a pillow and she looked half asleep so Ben was unsure if she heard him the first time or not. Ben wanted so badly to run his fingers through her hair to help her sleep and to carry her upstairs but he couldn't unless he wanted to get blood on her.

"Hey baby, why aren't you in bed?" Ben rephrased his question when (Y/n)'s tired eyes bleakly opened and seemed to become brighter and more awake when she looked at him.

"Couldn't sleep without you." (Y/n) rubbed at her eyes with the base of her hand, moving the blanket that was cocooned around her. Sleeping without Ben there was possible but (Y/n) didn't like it. She didn't like being on her own in bed and it didn't feel right or safe somehow without Ben there. (Y/n) had spent the whole of her life up until eighteen locked away and controlled and sleeping with Ben was one of the first adult things she had done. Going back to sleeping at night on her own was something (Y/n) didn't like.

"Well I'm back now, come on. And next time try and stay awake in bed rather than cramped down here."

(Y/n) rubbed at her eyes again before slowly pushing herself up into a sitting position and swinging her legs over the edge of the sofa. She smiled up at Ben until her vision seemed to properly focus on him when he stood up and she noticed the blood.

It was covering his hands and under his nails, there were streaks up his arms and onto his black shirt that was rolled up far past his elbows. He even had a bit of blood smeared onto his cheek like he had forgotten the blood was on his hand and rubbed his face. Ben looked like he had been painting and ended up fighting with the tin of paint or just dipped his hands in the paint tin up to his elbows.

This wasn't a normal sight for (Y/n).

It was normal to see him with busted knuckles, the occasional broken bone in his hand and a cut cheek or broken nose. Ben always had bruises here and there, he never went a week without a bruise somewhere on his body. But (Y/n) had never had him come home like this. It was as if all the time she had been with him, Ben was trying to shield her from a sight such as this. He was so different and loving when he was around her, it was only when they were at the club that (Y/n) ever saw Ben riled up and frightening and even then it was never directed towards her.

Seeing him covered in blood that was clearly not his own was a sight (Y/n) didn't like but one she thought she might just have to get used to. She knew what Ben did for a living, she knew what kind of man he was and she loved him despite all of that. But seeing him like this just made it real when it was so easy to forget what kind of cruel and horrid things he actually got up to.

It was an unspoken rule between them that Ben never brought that kind of work home with him and he never said anything about it to (Y/n) in case the police came asking. He didn't want her involved, he only wanted (Y/n) involved in the legal side of the club, not this side.

"It's okay-" Ben smiled to try and calm (Y/n) down when she looked a mix between unsure and scared but he quickly realised that smiling when he was littered with blood was a rather ungodly sight to witness.

"What happened?" (Y/n) pushed herself up to her feet and she wanted to reach out for Ben but the blood made her unsure whether to touch him or not.

"Someone bit off more than he could chew and I set him straight. No need to worry, baby, he isn't dead and I'm not in trouble I just need to get cleaned up. Okay?" Ben waited silently and patiently until (Y/n) eventually nodded to what he said and took a few deep breaths. She didn't want to panic and he needed to assure her there was no reason for her to panic. He may have beaten someone to a pulp but he didn't kill anyone tonight and the police wouldn't be involved.

(Y/n) felt herself slowly calming down when Ben kissed her temple before motioning for her to head upstairs. He followed close behind, turning out the living room lights as he passed.

Ben just wanted to reach out and keep his arms around (Y/n) but he didn't want to frighten or upset her by getting any blood on her. It was like an awful itch that he couldn't scratch, his arms were tense and his fingers were curling and stretching, desperate to take her into his arms after missing her for almost twelve hours now.

When they went upstairs, Ben was surprised when (Y/n) went into the bathroom and beckoned him in rather than going to bed. He followed her into the bathroom and sat down on the toilet when she motioned for him to do so. His eyes were full of intent and watched his wife closely as she started to fill the sink with hot water and found a flannel.

"You don't have to you know, you should go to bed."

"I know." (Y/n) spoke quietly as she reached out for Ben's hand and slowly started to clean away the blood that was mostly dry now like paint that was beginning to turn dark and flake off.

Ben smiled at how gentle (Y/n) was being with his hands that were far beyond anything to be treasured. His hands were rough, they were calloused and his skin was always hard or broken and flaking and his knuckles were never healed. Each knuckle healed and then the new skin was broken the same day, they were almost always bruised despite the tattoos that were just below them.

He watched the way that (Y/n) subconsciously smiled when she cleaned his hand and revealed the roman numerals underneath. Like she had found buried treasure and was cleaning the mud from the gold, unearthing his tattoos that had previously been buried under the blood.

Moving his legs, Ben hooked his feet around (Y/n)'s legs and gently pulled her closer between his legs until she smiled and took the hint to sit on his lap. He pressed his face into her shoulder and gently started kissing her skin, keeping his arms out in front of her as (Y/n) silently cleaned the blood away. Time seemed to disappear for them both as a calming silence enveloped around them.

When each speck of blood was gone from his arms and the sink was tainted dark red, (Y/n) got rid of the small drops of blood from underneath Ben's very short nails before she shifted to look at him. She cleaned the streak of blood from his cheek before moving her hands to check over his arms and chest, making sure there were no cuts or bruises or remnants of blood to be cleaned away.

(Y/n) could see that Ben had a cut on his left arm that stretched down near his wrist but wasn't very deep. He had a bruise forming on his neck and a rather dark one on his ribs suggesting he had been punched there a few times. He had a few more bruises and a slash mark on his abdomen but nothing that needed stitches or a trip to the hospital. Ben had a high pain threshold, he had been cut and needed stitches and it didn't bother him at all.

"How's he been today?" Ben stretched his tense fingers out, feeling (Y/n) cringe against him at the popping sound that came from both his fingers and his knuckles before he slipped his hands under her shirt to feel her stomach. He gently pressed his fingers against her stomach and slowly started massaging her skin. (Y/n) knew well enough by now to know that this was something Ben did to both make her feel better and relax but also to try and coax the baby to move. Ben seemed to have a fascination and a love for feeling their boy wriggling or kicking.

"Calm and asleep right until you came home." (Y/n) shivered when she felt Ben chuckling into her neck and shoulder, his hands still moving over her stomach since their boy was now slowly starting to move. It was like he was hypersensitive to Ben and started to get very excited whenever he was around.

"That's my boy. Now it's past one so I think we all need to get some sleep." Ben kissed (Y/n)'s cheek before he moved his hands to her hips to help her stand up. He kept his arms around her as they headed out of the bathroom and into the bedroom and he smiled when he felt (Y/n)'s hands holding into his own.

Just as (Y/n) was about to move over to the bed that was calling her name, her breath caught in her lungs when Ben's hands held her hips again and spun her around so she was facing him. Her hands held onto his upper arms to steady herself and she felt his thumbs smoothing over her skin but when she looked up at him, there was something in his eyes. It was like he was almost in pain that was pooling deep in his pupils but he was trying desperately hard to mask it with a gentle, uplifting yet almost sinister smile that only Ben could master.

"Baby, you know I won't make a habit of this, don't you? I won't keep coming home looking like that and I'll never bring trouble to the door- to you, or our boy. You trust me that I won't do that, don't you?"

Ben knew it rattled (Y/n) for those first few seconds when she looked at him and saw the blood. She'd never seen him covered in someone else's blood but he only came home like that because it was late and too much hassle opening the club back up just to clean up then lock up and go back home. He especially didn't want to waste that much time in case there was a chance (Y/n) was awake or worried where he was.

But he was never going to make this a habit, if he hurt, frightened, abused or murdered someone, he was never bringing it back home to (Y/n) or their baby. He was going to make sure (Y/n) was far out of the way of any trouble and any incriminating evidence or blood or gory like this, it was never going to come back to (Y/n). He never wanted to scare her.

"I know you wouldn't, I trust you." (Y/n) buried her face in Ben's chest and moved her arms up to link them around his neck as his arms moved to cocoon around her waist.

She knew this wasn't going to be an everyday occurrence, she trusted Ben with her life and she knew he wasn't going to bring any trouble home or try and frighten her.

He loved her far too much for that.

[imnottiredofgettingoveryou]

What about number 20 drinking hot cocoa and cuddling together on a cold night with Elliot that leads to smut? ❤️

Stop 1 on my apology tour! Sorry again that this took so long but I hope you enjoy :) This takes place around Decemberish.

Warnings: I listen to my requests: here, there be smut. Back to the Future/Donnie Darko discourse (that’s almost more offensive)

Word Count: about 2300 

Elliot was needier around the holidays.

He tried to pretend that all the Hallmark-style movies and Christmas ads showing smiling families filled with warmth didn't get to him. He knew it was the time of year when billionaires beefed up their coffers by exploiting those warm fuzzy feelings for profit, and he tried to focus on that- the rage.

Often, though, it was the loneliness at the forefront of his mind, his alienation stark against endless images of supposed normalcy.

You had snuck past his normal defenses and become a steady presence in his life over the last few months. Something about you made him feel comfortable, like he could talk to you about anything.

And Elliot had guts to spill, no doubt about it. But he rarely did so. He was still treading lightly with you, not wanting you to learn anything about him that would make you think of him as broken.

But some things were harder for him to resist. And once that unforgiving chill had settled over the city, it just felt way too natural for him to seek out your warmth.

Even on days when you don't see each other, you feel connected. You text here and there, or sometimes Elliot will just send you a picture of some nearby scenery he thinks is pretty, or whatever he's doing at the moment. Just to say "hey, it's me, I'm okay." Maybe a little bit of "I'm thinking about you." And sometimes, usually hidden a bit more deeply between the lines, "I'm not okay."

Like today, for example. It was a picturesque winter day outside, straight out of a painting. It was snowing but not too cold, the snowflakes on your face feeling more like heaven than hypothermia. Couples interlinked their bemittened hands, the approving 'beep' of credit card scanners echoed out across the city, and you knew - you just fucking knew - that somewhere, Elliot was curled up like a burned spider, depressed as shit.

It was only confirmation, really, when he texted you a picture of a single packet of Swiss Miss slumped against a styrofoam cup that looked like it had been stolen from an AA meeting. The text under the picture stated simply:

fEsTiVe

Oof. Yeah, he knew how you felt about that. He was fishing for a response, which meant he needed some company. You couldn't help but smile a little as you texted him back.

You: Don't tell me...

Elliot: im gonna make it with water : )

You: ASKLDJLKDFJ

You rolled your eyes. Yeah, that just wouldn't do.

You: I'm coming over & we're making hot chocolate like grownups

You headed in the direction to do just that, and thankfully he didn't leave you in limbo for very long before your phone lit up with an 'okay : )'

└[∵┌]└[ ∵ ]┘[┐∵]┘

When you got to his apartment, he opened his door just enough to look you up and down with one eye and scrutinize the contents of your shopping bag.

"You really bought hot chocolate mix in a mason jar?"

"Mhmmmm," you confirmed, raising an eyebrow at him.

"How much was it? Fifty bucks or something?"

"Don't worry about it, smartass."

He smiled and opened his door all the way for you, and you gleefully stepped in, took your coat off, and sat your supplies down in his kitchen.

You dug around the chaotic mess of his cupboards and found a lone saucepan, pouring in a mixture of cream and milk and setting it over low heat. You criss-crossed your body with your arms and tried to rub some heat into them. You were dressed appropriately in a sweater and thick leggings, but could still feel the chill in his apartment.

Behind you, Elliot sat on the couch queueing up the torrent player on his laptop. He looked up as you were trying to warm yourself up.

"Cold?" he asked.

"Yeah - good thing I brought hot chocolate to this fucking igloo and not popsicles." You gave the milk a quick stir, making sure it didn't boil, and unscrewed the jar of cocoa mix. You had started adding it little by little to the warm milk, watching the little pieces of chocolate melt, when Elliot approached you from behind and reached around your waist. Careful not to interrupt what you were doing, he drug his fingers lightly across the fabric that covered your belly and nuzzled into your hair.

"Is this okay?" he purred into your ear. "Are you gonna get distracted if I..."

"No," you breathed, continuing to stir.

At that, Elliot's hands splayed out on your stomach and he pulled you against him, his warm embrace smoothing your goosebumps as his chest pressed into your back. He rested his chin on your shoulder, and let his eyes fall closed.

You stayed like that for a few moments, just enjoying the closeness, before his hands slipped under your shirt. His fingertips teased the soft skin around your navel, and he trailed one finger slowly along the waistband of your leggings. When it dipped just underneath to graze your hip bone, you gasped and reached for his wrist.

"Okay, that's getting distracting babe."

Shit. You didn't mean to call him that, but when you turned your head and met the warm gleam of his luminous eyes, you thought he had probably been caught up in the moment too. Pretending to be normal.

The cocoa was well-mixed now, and you hoped it would taste as good as it looked. Elliot backed up and gave you some room to maneuver around the kitchen. You found two mismatched mugs and carefully filled them up over the sink.

"Better wait a few minutes unless we wanna scald our tastebuds off," you said as you added mini marshmallows to the mugs. "What do you want to do while we partake?"

"You wanna watch Donnie Darko?" he asked.

"Why? So I get scared and cuddle up to you? You're gonna have to try harder than that."

"No," he said, rolling his eyes. "Because it's Back to the Future fanfiction."

You stared at him, blinking twice before saying anything. "Excuse me?"

"I didn't stutter."

You lifted your eyebrows slightly, a little surpised that he was already teasing you back so early in the evening. "Okay, I'll bite. Let's watch it."

You grabbed the mugs and headed toward his couch, and Elliot went to pull the blanket off his bed. Then he stopped and turned to look at you.

"Do you just want to sit over here?"

You nodded and sat the mugs on the floor at the foot of his bed, then laid down on your stomach and got comfortable while he retrieved the laptop. Once all was situated, he laid next to you, matching your position, and pulled his blanket up over your backs.

"So tell me how this is BTTF fanfiction, exactly?" You scooted just barely closer to him, your body almost subconsciously seeking out his warmth.

"Well, there's a fan theory that Doc convinced Marty to sacrifice himself in the time jump so he could save the world. Sound familiar?"

"Elliot, I know downers are your poison, but you sound like a real crackhead right now."

"Then there's the Delorean reference..." You could see his little smirk in your periphery as he rested his hand on your lower back beneath the blanket.

"That's reaching."

"No such thing as coincidence."

You reached out and felt around the edges of your mug, testing the temperature. "I think we can drink these now." You handed Elliot his hot chocolate and brought your own to your lips carefully.

You were right, it was just hot enough and sweet and rich and-

"Good," Elliot confirmed.

"What can I say? Call me Gordon Ramsay." After you had both sat your mugs back down, letting your palettes recover from the rich taste, Elliot discarded his hoodie and laid down on his side, then pulled you against him so that his chest was pressed against your back. Your legs slotted together and he wrapped his arms tightly around you, making you melt into him as you settled in to finish the movie.

Between the hot drinks and your shared body heat, the temperature underneath Elliot's blanket warmed up quickly, and clothes slipped off until you were down to your leggings and undershirt and he was in his black t-shirt and boxer briefs. Once all unnecessary layers were shed, he resumed his position spooned snugly behind you, and it was only a matter of time before you grew comfortable enough to fall asleep.

You passed out for a spell, waking up to face a closed laptop and feel Elliot's steady breathing in your ear, his arms still wrapped securely around you.

You weren't sure how long you stayed like that, just relaxing against him, before his hands started to roam over your body in his sleep. You smiled as his fingers clumsily traced along your curves, until you felt them dig into your hips to pull you flush against him. Your breath caught in your throat at the sudden roughness; his hands didn't hesitate as they traveled back up your body, and you yelped when they found your breasts and squeezed hard.

Elliot rustled behind you at the noise and suddenly his hands were gone. "Fuck, sorry."

You reached around to find his hand and squeezed reassuringly. "It's okay. Good dream?" You couldn't resist grinding back against him a little, the answer to your question becoming quickly apparent.

Elliot's hand was back on your hip, his grip on you tightening as you rubbed against his arousal. "Yeah."

"Tell me about it."

"No," he stated simply. His lips grazed the outside of your ear, and when you shivered, he caught the lobe between his teeth. "I could... show you."

A pang of arousal shot through you at his words, vivid snapshots flashing in your mind of what he might want to do to you that had made him so hard.

You answered him by pulling off the rest of your clothes; he swallowed hard enough that you could hear it, then followed suit. His blankets rustled as the two of you scrambled to discard your clothing.

Elliot didn't miss a beat, pulling you back against his chest as soon as the two of you were naked, and he was still so warm from having been cocooned up with you that you couldn't help but relax into him. You pulled your hair to the side so he could suck on your neck while his hands roamed over your breasts, stomach, hips.

There must not have been much foreplay in his dream, you thought as he pulled your leg up your body for access. Not that you minded; the ache you felt for him was becoming hard to ignore, at any rate.

Elliot wrapped a hand around himself and rubbed the head of his cock against you until it was coated with your wetness. He teased the tip through your folds, grinding against you once he found your clit, but the stimulation quickly became too much for you and for him. He couldn't deny your pleas to fucking do something already and you felt him start to push in.

He was so much more patient than you when it came to this, and he never got tired of using it to his advantage.

He took his time working his cock into you, and once every inch of him was seated inside you, he didn’t move; he wasn't giving in to you completely just yet. You whined and squirmed and dug your fingers into the arm that he had wrapped around your waist, but he held fast. You had no control with him behind you - couldn't wrap your legs around him, couldn't pull him closer, pull him deeper - and you knew he liked it that way.

The thought made you clench around him hard. That got him moving.

You sighed in relief at finally feeling that sweet push and pull of him inside you. Closing your eyes, you relaxed and relinquished control to him, trusting him to take care of you. You were trying to be quiet, trying to tamp down your responses to the ripples of pleasure that washed over you each time he filled you; you wanted to hear him. Your efforts were rewarded as his little huffs and sighs against your shoulder escalated into soft moans.

Volume control became futile once Elliot adjusted his angle to hit your g-spot, your mouth falling open enough for broken moans to spill from your throat. Elliot lifted a hand up to your face to trace his middle and index fingers over your parted lips, then pushed them into your mouth. You sucked his digits hard, and he groaned in appreciation before he removed them and began a wet trail down the front of your body. Upon reaching his destination, he massaged your clit between his still-warm, still-wet fingers until your toes were curling against his calf.

"Elliot," you whined, "I'm--"

Coherence fell away as easily as quiet had as your orgasm overtook you, but you managed to cry out Elliot's name a few more times as you shook in his arms.

When he came, he bit your shoulder hard, and you were still too high on endorphins to notice it hurt before he was peppering the spot with sweet, soft kisses of apology.

Elliot gingerly removed himself from you, flinching at the lingering sensitivity from his orgasm. You gave each other space to breathe and cool down, and as your chest heaved you realized you hadn't even kissed him properly yet tonight.

Intent on remedying this, you rolled over and crawled towards him as soon as you were physically able, pressing your lips against his and not caring that he tasted like over-priced chocolate.

[pettyprocrastination]

Ok I have a major thing for handwriting idk so what do you think Ezra's handwriting looks like? (And on that topic, try not to think about love letters from Ezra when you're apart... Or do, I'd love to hear your thoughts bc I'm kinda dying here) I also feel like he's the kind of person to have just... a box of things you've written for him... Like literally anything. Shopping lists, letters, etc. and when he's away he takes them out and reads them :))

okay im feeling lonely and a little sad tonight so I immediately ran with this and uhhhhh this happened. (last bit is between him and reader from the thing “Stupid Man” that i posted earlier today. ) this ended up being a bit longer than expected sorry lmao

I’ve never written Ezra before please be gentle with me y’all

For this we're gonna say that Ezra is right-handed. 

I think Ezra had beautiful handwriting. Smooth, sloping neat lines ever since he was able to write. While other kids had to work on their penmanship, his was a natural gift. His handwriting was one that teachers would compliment in grade school, so distracted by the smooth strokes of his pencil that they hadn’t noticed the words used on his assignments weren’t even his, but that of the student sitting right next to him. The girls in his class would giggle and swoon at the albeit juvenile words of affections he’d write to them on secret notes passed back and forth between them, a habit he kept well into his adulthood. While he wasn’t proud of it, the harvester would leave notes of bittersweet goodbyes to lovers the morning after, remarking on how he would never forget the time spent working together on harvesting deposits as well as the intimate “and dare I say magical” nights they spent with one another. The women he laid with would be so enamored with his words and the rose tinted images his words painted, that by the time they would realize he’d taken off with their share of the harvest as well as his own, he’d be far enough into the stars all they could do was curse his name to the sky in anger. 

And then, one harvest in the Green, he had met a man named Damon and a brave little girl named Cee. 

These meetings, whether it was predestined or not, lead to him losing his right arm, and with it his beautiful handwriting. 

Learning to write again was frustrating, as a child it had come to him with ease, a natural gift. But as a grown man? Kevva alive it was enough to make him contemplate putting his fist through a wall. Until-

“Ez,” You poked your head into the den, eyes squinting and a blanket wrapped tight around your shoulders. “It’s three am, come to bed baby.”

You. 

You made it worth it. With every shy smile you wore each time he gave you a written proclamation of his love and dedication to you, no matter how messy his chicken scratch writing was you’d pepper his face with his kisses in gratitude. 

“My poet.” You’d coo in his ear. He’d feel that every moment of frustration was worth it, if he could see you like this every time. 

After losing his arm, Ezra became more appreciative of little written things. The notes you’d leave on the kitchen counter when you go to work, the way you doodle smiley faces and cartoon fruit on grocery lists, even the little slips of encouragement you sneak into his pocket when you thought he wouldn't notice. 

He did notice. He noticed every time actually. But he didn’t say anything out of fear that you would stop. 

Ezra had a little box of mementos about you, a ticket stub from the first movie you saw, an aurelac gem from your first dig together (one he swore to himself to never sell) and all the little notes, lists, and reminders you’d ever written. When one of you has to leave for a long period of time, whether it be work, or family or whatever reason. Each time he’ll open that box when he feels deepest in his lonesome, and his heart will lift just the tiniest bit. 

(next bit is just a little except with Ezra x Alien!Reader following this prompt)

Ezra must not have heard your key slide into the lock, or the door open at all. The washing machine was loud enough to drown it out, the damn thing was on its last life as it shook and trembled enough for you to send it a distasteful glare as if it were human. 

The wood creaked under your steps and yet, nothing. No thumping of excited feet to be met with a bruising kiss to your lips, mumbled “I missed you” against one another as you inevitably celebrated your return in bed with each other. 

You continued your trek to his bedroom as softly as you could. 

Maybe he was asleep?

He sat on the corner of his bed, his back to you and a box in his lap.

You found yourself staring at him with a smile, leaning against the door frame as you watched his sift through a box full of little notes and lists you’d written over your time together with a bittersweet smile. 

“Is this what you do whenever I leave?”

Ezra jumped, flinging the box from his lap and spilling all it’s contents onto the floor. A variety of emotions crossed over his face before one took over them all at the sight of you. 

Pure joy. 

He crossed to you in three quick strides. His hand found itself at the nape of your neck, pulling you to him for a heated kiss that you were all too grateful for due to your time apart. 

“Oh my darling warrior has returned.” He spoke between the feather-light kisses he laid all over your face, turning you into a fit of flustered giggles at the feeling of his scruff against your skin.

 “Were those diplomats as horrid and soulless as you claimed them to be?”

You pulled away and groaned. “Even worse. But that doesn’t matter now.”

“That it does not.” He agreed, his thumb rubbed comforting circles against your skin. “Not a day went by when I didn’t think of that shining smile or alluring voice, having you part from me is like robbing an addict of their temptation.”

You pressed your hand against his mouth. If he spoke any further you definitely wouldn’t be able to focus on anything other than taking off his clothes. “Enough of that smooth talker.” Your eyes went to the pile of notes across the floor. You spotted one, a tiny birthday card with a coffee stain on the corner, that was from the first time you celebrated his birthday together. It had been three months into your relationship. You stared up at him.

“You really kept them all?”

The look in his eyes, so soft and tender part of you was worried he’d break in your hands. But you knew better than that. 

“I’d be a fool if I didn’t, brave one.” He rested his forehead against yours, exhaling a shaky breath as he did. “I am afraid I’m not as strong as I first surmised I would be at your frequent departures-”

Guilt washed over you in a hot wave. “Ezra-”

“-but I am extremely grateful that you return to me each time.” He interrupted, a soft kiss pressed against your pulse-point to punctuate, your eyes fluttered shut and he smiled. 

“It is a blessing with no disguise that such a woman as yourself would go see the world and decide to return to the humble abode of a lowly, former harvester such as myself after each one. I do not need a reminder of that gift, but still, it helps the distance feel just a click smaller.”

You sniffed and bumped your forehead against his with a tear smile. “Stupid man.” You weakly scolded, your voice wavering and not holding its usual command of the room. 

Ezra smiled, oh how he loved to hear you call him that. Ever since you first found him years ago on your home planet, and witnessed him nearly get killed because of his lack of knowledge on the plant life there. You’d guided him throughout his dig, all while criticizing his stupidity, lack of preparation and “positively abhorrent attitude, you stupid man! Coming to a planet you know nothing of? Surely you want to die!”

Over time he learned that “stupid man” was your version of “I love you.”

“You know you’ll never be without me, Ezra.” You dipped your head down and pressed a kiss to his chest. “No matter how far I am, you will always have me with you. Please don’t ever forget that.”

His hand slid up to rest on your cheek, you didn’t miss the way his fingers trembled oh so slightly against your skin. 

“Oh gentle warrior.” He whispered with a warm smile. “I do not deserve you.”

You thought-no, you knew he deserved you and much more. But he hadn’t realized that yet. You believed that Ezra deserved the world. You couldn’t give him that, so you settled for your love, devotion and handwritten notes slipped into his back pocket when you thought he wouldn’t notice. 

He noticed every time.

[darkblueboxs]

howdy i love your aftg writing!! here’s a concept: i feel like once neil’s past is out, he has no reason to hesitate absolutely sucker punching someone. like we know he made neil a pushover because it raises less questions, but now that everyone knows who he is im SURE he’s just bitch slapped someone mid-game. no holding back, like if u say something fucked up he’s just gonna try to kill you!! do you know who this man is?? there’s no doubt in my mind that he knows some quick and lethal punches!

Oh yes, anon. Bruiser!Neil I can DEFO get behind. 

Here’s 3k of Neil punching stuff, and Andrew being wildly turned on by it. Read here or on AO3 (Check AO3 notes for content warnings, etc.)

*Edit* : In the original version of this fic, Nicky faces racist abuse in addition to homophobic abuse, and quotes the offensive language and slurs used against him. After concerns were raised regarding how I handled this abuse (specifically, the language used, the context in which the abuse takes place, and my position as a non-latine) I censored and subsequently removed the relevant dialogue. I sincerely apologise and promise to do better in the future. Please don't hesitate to contact me with any questions and concerns regarding this subject.

[01/06/2020]

All the Guys Love a Bruiser

Neil’s mother taught him how to throw a punch, of course she did. Their lessons took place anywhere spacious enough to swing a fist, in empty parking lots behind greasy gas stations or in dingy motel rooms if she thought the walls were thick enough to cover up the noises they made.

Mary had always been more flight than fight, an instinct she had forced into Neil over years of running. Even she had to admit, however, that sooner or later they would hit a dead end, and while that would spell certain death for both of them, it would be better to go down fighting than it would on their knees.

If their lessons ended with Neil aching black and blue, it was his own fault. He needed to be quicker, smarter, crueller. More like his mother.

Matt’s teaching style is different from Mary’s, as is his fighting style. It bears the hallmarks of professional athleticism, all stances and positioning and strategy. While his mother’s idea of a lesson in self-defence was to hit Neil until he figured out how to dodge her blows or hit back, Matt talks him through how to angle his body, how to make a fist in a way that won’t break his fingers. At the end of their first boxing lesson, the only bruises on Neil’s body are the light purple spreading across his knuckles.

That evening, he and Andrew take over the beanbags, TV muted in the background while they dig into ice-cream. The tub is pleasantly cool in Neil’s hands, and he rubs his knuckles against the sides like an improvised icepack. When the residual cold has melted away, Neil flexes his fingers, enjoying the faint tingle dancing across them. These marks are different from those his mother gave him; they weren’t inflicted on him unwillingly but earned with sweat and exertion. When Matt had let go of the punching bag and told him they were done for the day, Neil had been surprised by his own disappointment. He had never been sorry see the end of his mother’s lessons.

Andrew takes his hand suddenly, startling Neil from his thoughts. It’s a purely analytical touch; he turns Neil’s hand over and runs a finger across the blossoming bruises of his knuckles.

Neil bites back the I’m fine, knowing the look it would earn him. Instead he says, “I had fun. We’re meeting again next week.”

Andrew nods. It’s a few moments more before he relinquishes Neil’s hand, however. The heat of Andrew’s skin mingles with the singing twinge of Neil’s bruises like an after-print.

Next week, Andrew slouches into the gym after Neil. He ignores Matt’s invitation to join them, flopping onto a rowing machine and leaning back against the machinery so he can kick his feet up on the seat rail. They’re lucky that they chose unsociable hours for their workout, or a line of athletes would be forming to glare at him.

Andrew watches them train from across the room with apparent disinterest. He can feign boredom all he likes; Neil knows he wouldn’t have bothered following him to the gym without reason.

Matt, if anything, seems amused by Andrew’s presence. “Dan comes to watch me practice sometimes, too.” He pauses to correct the angles of Neil’s feet before nudging his arms into blocking positions. “She did it even before we started dating. She used to sit on an exercise bike and pretend she was cycling so I wouldn’t know she was there to watch me. It was never very convincing.”

“Why did she want to watch you?” Neil shifts his weight, trying to copy Matt’s position.

Matt’s face crinkles up with laughter. “That’s the most Neil thing you’ve ever said.”

“Everything I say is a Neil thing.”

“She liked it when I took my shirt off. C’mon, man, join the dots.”

“You don’t take your shirt off to box.”

“Yeah,” says Matt. “Don’t tell her that.”

Neil rolls his eyes. “Can I hit you now?”

Matt barks out a laugh, and training resumes.

“Enjoying the show?” Neil asks Andrew an hour later, dropping down on the gym mat next to him. Andrew hands Neil his water bottle with an unimpressed look.

“You’re awful.” Andrew flicks a look over to Matt, who is using their break to chat with the only other gym regular insane enough to be working out at the crack of dawn on a Sunday. “He could knock you on your ass with one right hook.”

“I know I’m awful. That’s what training is for.” Neil pauses to gulp down most of the bottle. A droplet escapes his lips and tracks down his jugular before falling into the dip of his clavicle. Andrew’s eyes track its path. “Matt isn’t going to hurt me. Is that what you’re worried about?”

“I’m not here to babysit you.”

“Huh.” Neil drains the last of the water before shaking the residual droplets over his head. The beads glint in the corners of his vision as they catch in his bangs and fleck his cheeks, mercifully cooling against his skin. Andrew is still watching him intently. His eyes flick to Matt once more, checking that he is still absorbed in his conversation.

“Yes or no?”

“Yes,” Neil replies, and he watches as Andrew takes Neil’s hand in his. The skin is flushed from strike after strike, not yet coloured in bruising patches but soon to be. Neil’s hands feel softer for it, sensitive to Andrew’s touch.

“I know my limits.” Neil isn’t sure why the gym suddenly feels three degrees warmer. “Really, it doesn’t hurt.”

“I know. I trust you.” Andrew sends one more look over Neil’s shoulder like he’s checking the coast is clear before pressing Neil’s knuckles to his lips.

The breath Neil was in the process of catching slips from his grasp entirely. “Oh.”

“Stop looking at me like that.”

“You like watching me fight.”

“It’s more interesting than watching you run.”

Neil leans in until he can see each individual freckle on Andrew’s cheeks. “Interesting?”

Andrew’s cool look is betrayed by the twitch of his jaw. “Something like that.”

If Matt notices Neil’s new vigour when they return to practice, he doesn’t comment on it. When he catches Neil’s eye, however, he grins knowingly. Perhaps Matt’s conversation had not been as absorbing as he made it out to be. Soon, however, the rhythm of the exercise draws Neil’s attention back to the task at hand.

Neil first learned to throw a punch because his mother believed that one day his life could depend on it. That isn’t the reason that he has resumed his training with Matt; it turns out that a good instructor and fewer death threats make the activity far more pleasant than Neil remembers. It may be a useful skill, but he values the challenge more than he does the practicality. The physicality, too – in fact, he likes boxing for the same reasons that he loves Exy. Quick, brutal, thrilling. He finally understands, too, why Andrew likes to spar with Renee whenever his emotions get on top of him. There’s a certain a sense of control that comes from putting his fist through a break-board. Not that he needs the empowerment as much as he once might have – most of Neil’s tormentors were killed long ago, his fears with them. Given his new life of safety and security, it’s likely that he’ll never really need to know how to throw a good punch.

It takes all of one week for Neil to be proven wildly, wildly wrong.

Opposition strikers – with one glaring, now very dead exception – are not typically Neil’s problem. Generally, if they end up playing on the same side of the court as him, something has gone wrong in the team’s strategies.

He can tell even from a distance, however, that one of the Terrapin strikers is causing difficulties. Not in terms of ability – of which Terrapin’s #13 has little – but in attitude. Thirteen is a vocal player, and Neil can hear snatches of his voice echoing across the court. No fists have been swung, which is an impressive feat for the Fox defenders, but perhaps only because the luck of substitutions has put Thirteen against Nicky more than anyone else, and Nicky is more likely to react to insults with mirth than anger.

Shortly before the end of the first half, Nicky is subbed off at the same time as Thirteen. Nicky passes Neil on the way to the court doors, clacking their racquets together with half a smile. “Give them hell, Neil.”

Thirteen passes them at the same moment, slamming Nicky’s shoulder as he passes. Nicky mutters a word under his breath that would have earned him a month of washing-up duty at Abby’s house before heading for the Foxes’ bench. Neil watches him go, eyebrows creasing together. Nicky isn’t easily upset by the cruelty of strangers; it’s the cruelty that comes from within his own family that is most likely to shake him from his good humour. The barbed insults of nameless players on the court, on the other hand, are usually brushed off with a rude gesture and no more.

Swept up in the rush of the match, Neil forgets about Nicky’s discomfort until half-time. The team pours from the court in high spirits; they have a decent lead over the Terrapins which should carry them through the second half when exhaustion starts to kick in. Nicky, despite having blocked more shots on goal than anyone, reacts to the arrival of the rest of the team with only a pallid grin. His grip on his water bottle is tight, and the cheap plastic crackles and caves in his hands.

Nicky is an easy read, and it doesn’t take long for the other Foxes to notice. After he brushes Renee’s concerned enquiry off, however, the team leaves him be.

When Neil returns to the court for the start of the third quarter, he breathes a sigh of relief to see that Thirteen is nowhere near Nicky. He’s standing closer to goal than Neil is happy with, but Andrew is more or less impervious to verbal abuse and Thirteen has yet to show signs of physical violence. As much as he wants to keep a closer eye on the situation, Kevin’s barked commands draw his attention to the match at hand. The best thing Neil can do for the Foxes’ defence is to spend as much time lobbing the ball at the Terrapin’s goal as possible.

Neil and Nicky are substituted at the same time; they collapse onto the bench and drown their exhaustion in Gatorade. Thirteen crushed Nicky against the wall moments before the substitution, and Nicky is uncharacteristically quiet as Abby examines the cut over his eye.

“You’re not whining about cramping your style,” she says as she presses a plaster in place. “Should I be worried?”

“Nah, this is great for my style. All the guys love a bruiser.” Nicky winks despite the blood crusting in his eyelashes. “Neil knows what I’m talking about, don’tcha, Neil?”

Abby makes a noise that isn’t convinced, but doesn’t press the issue. Neil waits until she’s out of earshot before saying casually, “I still have a few contacts in the mafia.”

“Your sense of humour is dire,” says Nicky, but he’s grinning, so Neil counts it as a win. “Don’t worry about it. I think Andrew’s drawing his fire now. Andrew handles that kind of thing a lot better than me.”

“What kind of thing?”

Nicky winced. “Don’t ask.”

“Tell me.”

“Let's just say he isn't exactly lining up to lead a Pride march.” Nicky snorts humorlessly.

The joke doesn’t land, and not because of Neil’s non-existent sense of humour. He may not be as obvious as Nicky in his preferences nor as dark-skinned, but he has still been on the receiving end of enough of that brand of bullshit to know how it scratches at one’s insides.

“I wasn’t joking about those contacts.”

Nicky sighs. “I was worried you would say that.”

Neil’s attention keeps slipping from the game and over to Andrew, who is standing in goal and ignoring the tirade of insults being thrown his way like a statue facing down a breeze. His non-reaction only seems to stoke Thirteen’s fury, spittle catching in the mesh of his helmet as he watches Andrew knock yet another attempt away from the Foxes’ end.

Andrew spares Thirteen no more than a second of blank indifference in the face of his tirade. Then he drops his stance, shoulders setting into a silent challenge that sends a hot bolt of excitement straight Neil’s to gut. Andrew is locking down the goal.

The Terrapins don’t score again for the rest of the match.

Neil is through the doors before the final buzzer has died, charging into the crush of Foxes at centre-court to join in their celebrations. Andrew, as usual, hovers at the edge of the throng, but he accepts the clack of Neil’s racquet against his. A light sheen of sweat dances across Andrew’s forehead and his lips are parted as he regains his breath after the exertion of locking the Terrapins out.

“Did Thirteen give you trouble?”

Andrew snorts derisively despite his breathlessness. “He tried.”

Neil gets to see Thirteen up close during the handshakes. He barely grazes the tips of each Foxes’ fingers as he passes one by one, but he stops when he gets to Neil. “I remember you. You were all over the news, weren’t you? The runaway Wesninski.” His expression speaks to his delight at the revelation. To no-one’s surprise, Thirteen is a sore loser.

Andrew barely moves, just a slight adjustment to his footing so that he presses a little closer into Neil’s shoulder.

Neil smiles. It is the kind of smile he has not had use for in some time. “Looking for an autograph?”

Thirteen snorts. “Bet you think you’re real bad. Bet you think those scars make you look tough. Too bad you’re still a puny little bitch.”

Neil flexes his hand before clenching it into a fist. “I do think I’m real bad, actually. Want to find out why?”

The striker waits for the hit to come. Neil doesn’t give him the satisfaction; the guy is a piece of shit, but he isn’t worth the trouble he’s clearly looking for. Neil drops his hands, meets his gaze, and waits for him to give up on getting his reaction and leave.

Most of the other players are moving off to their own respective sides, and their stand-off is beginning to attract attention. Kevin squints over at them, and at his side, Aaron pulls off his helmet.

“Oh shit. Twins.” Thirteen’s gaze swings from Aaron to Andrew, flashing with sudden recognition. “I remember you too.” His expression turns sharkish. “Now that was a story. So, which one is the murderer, and which is the brother-fucker?”

Andrew barely twitches. Neil’s reaction is less restrained.

It’s almost a play-by-play of decking Riko at the Winter Banquet.  The key difference between that punch and this one is hours of training with a borderline-professional boxer.

Neil squares his stance, draws back his fist, and puts his whole body behind the punch. He’s rewarded with the sickening crack of a nose breaking and a hot spurt of blood splattering his knuckles.

Thirteen staggers back, shock registering for a second before he spits blood at the floor. He’s swaying on his feet, but there’s still fight in his eyes.

Andrew’s hands go to his sheaths, but Neil waves him back. He wipes the hand bloodied by Thirteen’s face across his jaw unthinkingly, feels the wet, red heat clinging to his skin. “Hey. This one’s mine.” The smile he tacks onto the words is toothier than he means it to be. With blood still smeared across his chin, he can only imagine how he looks.

Andrew’s hand judders to a halt at the hems of his armbands. His jaw is clenched tight but roaring over the current of concern is something far darker. It creeps into his eyes, a weight to his gaze normally only visible in the privacy of their bedroom. Andrew’s gaze runs the length of Neil’s body before coming to rest on Neil’s mouth. His bottom lip catches momentarily in his teeth as he nods.

Thirteen’s first swing hits, and a burst of blood dances across Neil’s tongue as his lip is split open. Thirteen’s luck ends there; Neil blocks his second punch with a move Matt taught him the day before. He drives his free hand into Thirteen’s solar plexus, knocking the air from him.

Neil doesn’t get much time to appreciate how the striker falls on his ass as they’re rushed by teammates and officials who break them apart.

Neil stands placidly before Wymack and bears his row with the bare minimum of decorum. The lecture is undercut by Nicky, who’s expression alternates between elation, amusement and mock disapproval from moment to moment. Matt, at least, waits until Wymack is finished before applauding.

“I’ll give you some notes later, but all things considered it was a solid right hook.”

Neil brushes the team’s reactions off as best he can; he certainly didn’t do it for their recognition.

He takes his time showering, watching with a strange, sick pleasure as he rinses the striker’s blood away. It turns pink in the shower basin before swirling at last down the drain. Beneath the blood, Neil’s knuckles have begun to bruise, satisfaction burning them blue.

It’s at these times that Neil worries that he may have inherited too much from his father; the temper, the violence, the bloodlust. Then again, they all served as tools to his survival at one point or another. The key difference between Neil and his father is who they choose to turn their anger on. Neil’s father always set his sights on the underdog. Neil prefers to punch up.

No; if there’s one thing Nathan gave him, it was a distaste for bullies.

There’s a familiar tap at the door to Neil’s stall. The rest of the Foxes cleared out some time ago, still rowdy from the post-match high. Tonight was a home game; most of the team will be halfway back to Fox tower already, thinking only of booze and the weekend stretching ahead of them. There’s only one player who would have any reason to linger.

Andrew steps under the spray, his hair is plastered to his head by the steamy drizzle. He holds his hand out, and Neil offers his without question for Andrew’s inspection.

Andrew’s voice is dispassionate as he inspects the damage. “I don’t need a knight in shining armour. Nor for you to fight my battles for me.”

“The fight was for my own satisfaction. But I’ll stop if you want me to.”

Once again, Andrew presses his lips to Neil’s raw knuckles. The contact stings, sweet and savoury, pleasure and pain. “Would it kill you to make life easy for once?” The words tingle against the tender skin.

“I thought you liked to watch me fight.”

“Just because I find your stupidity entertaining doesn’t mean I encourage it.”

“It’s my stupidity you like, is it?”

“What else do you have?” Andrew’s eyes track the rivulets of water snaking down Neil’s neck.

“I’m sure I can think of a few things.” Neil says. Then, for clarity, “Yes or no?”

“Yes.” Andrew doesn’t let go of Neil’s hand, thumb running across the reddening knuckles once more before leading it to his chest. Neil leaves it resting there, marvelling at the colours bleeding between them under the shower’s onslaught, pink and brown and red and blue. Andrew soon tires of Neil’s staring, and is the first to bridge the gap between them.

Neil once compared Andrew’s kisses to a fight with their lives on the line. Countless kisses later, this fact has not changed in the slightest. Andrew leaves a bruising trail of kisses across Neil’s neck until he can’t remember which marks are from Exy and which are from Andrew. They all sting the same, sweet way.

Each kiss pressed to his mouth carries a metallic tang from Neil’s burst lip. He can tell from the fierce pressure of Andrew’s mouth against his that Andrew can taste it too, is feeding off the adrenaline rush just as Neil is. He catches Neil’s bottom lip between his teeth and with it sucks a groan from deep in Neil’s chest.

Andrew draws back to level him with an unimpressed look. “You’re far too into this.”

“You’re one to talk.” Neil raises his hand to Andrew’s eyeline, wiggling his fingers. Andrew’s eyes catch on the blooming violet patches. “You like this. Admit it.”

Andrew steps forward until his cheek brushes Neil’s fingers. Neil turns his hand automatically, cupping Andrew’s face.

“Yes,” says Andrew. His eyes stay on Neil’s, even as Neil’s hand drops lower.

It’s a small miracle, Neil thinks, that Andrew can trust Neil’s hands on him, after all he knows they are capable of. Maybe that’s part of the appeal, the evidence painted into Neil’s knuckles that Neil’s gentler touches are reserved for Andrew and Andrew alone. It’s strange that Andrew should love Neil’s fighting spirit as much as he does. After all, it was Andrew who taught Neil how to stand and fight in the first place.

It’s a fact that neither will ever let the other forget.

Neil leaves the shower sporting several more bruises than he entered with. Some are from Exy, some are from fighting, and some are from Andrew’s mouth.

He loves them all just the same.

 * Thanks for reading, let me know what you think! Still open to prompts etc.

[novacxlum]

skinny dipping

in which luke, the captain of the swim team and the boy who holds your heart, offers to work with you to prepare for swim season. antics ensue.

request: “hi okay so i really feel awkward requesting smut but like,,, ur writing is so good so like could u write shower sex w luke? tysm!” ps dont feel awkward i love u sorry this is so late and also got......a lil crazy

warning: another luke smut? truly just self indulgence if im being 100% honest, some hella lax choking, light dirty talk, technically public sex

a/n: someone tell me to stop writing for luke thanks. as always, feedback is very much appreciated :-) <3

When you get out of the lap pool, all your muscles are loose and weak. The chlorine has settled in your hair and its distinct scent surrounds you as your tired legs carry you to your towel; you drop into a chair as soon as you reach one, ignoring the cold metal beneath your legs as you delight in the relaxation. Your breathing is hard and your heart is pounding as you gulp as much water as possible from your water bottle. All summer you had meant to make it to the pool, you honestly had. But you had been so preoccupied with cutting a million things off your bucket list before school started that you just forgot.

You felt that regret now, wishing you had just gone a couple times a month. That would have saved you the next three days of sore muscles. Your knees are already beginning to bruise from neglecting the stairs out of the pool by pulling yourself up from the edge. When you try to run a hand through your hair, your fingers get caught in the knots created by the chlorine; you groan, not even close to ready to brush it out later. For now, you pull it into a scrunchie high on the crown of your head while you bask in your dread. You’re standing up when the door to the pool opens; it surprises you enough to make you jump, your tired muscles clenching in fright. You had made it a point to wake up early enough to get to the pool and finish well before the kids and their babysitters started pouring in. When you look at your phone, it’s only 7:15. You look up to meet eyes with a tall, grinning blonde.

“(Y/N)!” He exclaims, making you smile back widely.

“Hi, Luke!” You greet, wrapping your arms around his warm, bare torso when he pulls you in for a hug.

Luke was a senior this year, and captain of the swim team. The two of you had gotten pretty close last year as he had always volunteered to drive the underclassmen home in the minivan he had inherited from his mother. You had almost exclusively gotten the front seat, and you were always last to be dropped off which inevitably led to the two of you gossiping about the other people on the team. Luke had most definitely made your transition into high school much more comfortable, and you always made sure to let him know.

“You excited for swim to start?” He asks, and you glare at him with playful eyes.

“Take another look at me and ask that question again.” You deadpan. He giggles, his eyes bright and you can’t help but let loose a smile. “What about you?”

“Of course.” His voice is light as he sets his things on the bench next to you. You can’t help but watch as the muscles of his shoulders ripple and you avert your eyes quickly.

It was no secret to your friends that you had a big schoolgirl crush on Luke. The close friendship the two of you shared had tricked your heart into developing feelings for him and as much as you tried to deny it, you really did adore Luke with everything in you.

“I should’ve kept up on workouts this summer.” You scold yourself to him and he shrugs.

“I only started a few weeks ago. The season doesn’t technically start for another two months, and we don’t start practices for another month.” You stare at him and he laughs again, shaking his head. “You have time. And if you need motivation, we can work out together.” He suggests.

You struggle to keep the grin off your face as you give him a casual smile. “Yeah, that sounds good. When do you usually come?”

“Just around this time on Mondays and Thursdays. I’ll text you on Thursday and I’ll just pick you up on my way here. Sound good?”

You nod as your lips quirk up. You stand, grabbing your keys and your swim bag, bidding him a quick farewell and turning your back to him so he couldn’t see the face-splitting grin you were sporting.

Despite your sore muscles, you felt better that day than you had all summer.

Thursday morning, you’ve gone through all the possible scenarios in your head. You aren’t anxious, because you’re already close to Luke, but you are excited. So excited that you can’t sit down. Your swim bag has been unpacked and repacked enough times that you could take a mental inventory. You’re just putting on a loose shirt over your shorts and swimsuit when your phone chimes.

Luke: I’m outside :-)

You slide your jandals on and grab your bag and water bottle from your bed before rushing to the front door. You close it behind you, allowing the late summer air of the early morning wash over you. You turn to face Luke’s car, which had been replaced and was no longer a minivan.

A sleek black car sits in your driveway and your narrow your eyes in confusion, but your pace stays constant when you see Luke’s smiling face in the driver’s side.

“New wheels?” The words have fallen from your lips as soon as you’re settled in the soft leather seats. Despite how early it is, the air conditioner is blasting and a Hippo Campus song is pouring lowly from the speakers.

He chuckles softly, shrugging. “Been saving up for a few years and the minivan died, so there was no better time.”

He pulls out of the driveway and you look over at him, watching carefully as he taps his fingers on the wheel to the beat of the music. The car smells of leather and chlorine from yours and Luke’s duffel bags by your feet and in the backseat, respectively. You smile softly at him and turn away, looking out the window.

In an unfairly short amount of time, you’re parked in the parking lot of the indoor pool and you’re stepping through the doors, the humidity already hitting you. Luke smiles at the girl standing behind the counter, a girl you recognize as the teacher’s aide for your biology class last year. You think she’s in Luke’s grade, and you think you catch her with a disdainful look when she sees you behind the tall blonde. You smile at her anyway and walk through the doors leading to the locker rooms and the water. The two of you skip past the lockers and walk straight for the pool.

There’s music playing over the speakers, echoing around the room and suddenly, you’re nervous. You don’t understand why, because you’d swam with Luke a hundred times before, but for some reason, things were different now.

It’s almost two full hours before the two of you are ready to call it good. You’re sore, but not nearly as sore as you were on Monday. Luke’s giggling at you as you struggle to get out of the water, your aversion to ladders still very much apparent.

“C’mere.” He chuckles, moving toward you and outstretching a hand. You grip it tightly with both hands and he uses his other hand to grip your own forearm. With a foot as high on the wall as you can get it, Luke’s body pulls back and you’re suddenly out of the water, your feet on the slick ground as the tall blonde before you allowed his hand to fall from your arm to your back to ensure your stability.

Whatever snicker was once floating through the air from either of you had disappeared as you looked up at him, his hand firmly against the small of your back holding you to him as you gripped his hand in both of yours. He takes a deep breath, and suddenly both of your hands are off of him and he’s taking a step back. You allow yourself to laugh in order to lighten the mood, walking carefully to where your bags sat.

“Are you gonna shower, or do you just want to dip?” You ask, grabbing your towel and wiping off your face.

Against Luke’s better judgment, he decides to go straight home. You both towel off, pulling your clothes back on, pushing away the slight awkwardness by throwing jokes back at one another. By the time you get back to his car, the two of you are back to normal and you’re careful to keep your wet hair from dripping on his nice leather seats. The ride to your house is full of music and jokes and laughs. When he pulls into your driveway, he puts his car in park and turns to look at you.

“Do you want to you go out? Like on a date?”

You’re shocked at his words, and in a rare moment of bravery, you look at him with wide eyes. “Are you telling me this wasn’t a date?” You tease, making him groan. “Yes, Luke. I would love to go on a date with you.”

“Great. Is Saturday okay?” He asks, and you nod, a large smile on your face.

You lean across the center console and press a chaste kiss to his cheek before hopping out, swiftly making your way to the front door and letting yourself inside. With pink cheeks and a squeal, you can’t help but immediately begin planning.

“This isn’t lame, is it?” Luke’s voice breaks through the low chatter of silverware against ceramic plates and talks in the diner. You laugh softly and shake your head, the air conditioning blasting through the restaurant despite the fact that the sun was down.

“No, I love it here. You know that.” You assure the blonde boy sitting across from you. Maddy’s was a cute little diner that had been settled early in the sixties just down the street from your neighborhood. It was always packed full of teenagers, as it was the only restaurant in town that was cheap enough to go regularly and open 24 hours a day. You adored Maddy’s, and Luke was well aware.

“I wanted to take you somewhere new, but I forgot to make reservations somewhere.” He says bashfully. It’s rare for Luke to look so shy, and it almost takes you off guard. Almost. You smile softly at him from across the table.

“This is perfect.” You say. He grins.

The smell of hamburgers and fries arises quickly as Hallie, a sweet girl in the grade between yours and Luke’s brings your food to the table. “Alright, guys, is there anything else I can get for you?” She asks, and Luke shakes his head with a friendly smile.

“No, thank you, Hallie.” He says warmly. You watch Hallie fight the blush that takes over her cheeks as she nods and walks away. You look at him in awe and he looks back at you in confusion. “What?”

“How the hell do you do that?’ You inquire, and he furrows his brows.

“Do what?” He retorts, grabbing a few fries from the overflowing basket before him. You roll your eyes.

“Get every single girl you talk to fall at your feet.” You say, causing him to scoff loudly.

“I don’t.” He says, and you laugh sarcastically.

“You’re kidding. All you had to do was smile at Hallie to make her blush, and I’m pretty sure the girl at the pool wants to hang me by my ankles every time she sees us together. Every girl that’s ever laid eyes on you is automatically entranced, follows your every move right on your heels.” You say, picking at your own food.

“Not every girl.” He says. You look up at him, seeing a small smile play on his lips.

“Maybe some of us are resistant to your charm.” You tease. Luke chuckles, shaking his head.

“Have I told you just how gorgeous you look tonight?” He says, a smirk tugging at his lips as you kick his leg softly under the table.

“Laying in on a little thick there, Hemmings,” You giggle. “but thank you.” Luke catches one of your legs between his, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he smiles sweetly and picks up his food.

The two of you remained in the diner for several more hours, giggling loudly and playfully teasing one another. By the time you leave, Maddy’s is nearly empty. The only booth left, a group of boys, whoop loudly at the two of you as you step out the door and Luke glares hard at them, but you can’t help the soft laugh that falls from your lips.

The walk back to your house envelops the two of you in a warm breeze. Your arm brushes Luke’s every once in a while as the two of you speak softly. The walk to your house isn’t nearly long enough, and when the two of you are standing under your porch light, Luke pretends that he doesn’t realize how warm it is, his large hands rubbing your bare arms. “We should do this again.” He says. You smile up at him and nod. His eyes flicker to your lips, before he leans down and presses his lips to yours. You raise up on your toes, gripping the tee shirt at his waist while one of his hands fell to your hip and the other to your lower back. You moan softly as Luke pulls you into him, parting your lips slightly to allow him access.

He pulls away a few seconds later, his breathing slightly heavier than normal. “So, we’re still on for Monday?” He jokes. You laugh softly, resting your forehead on his chest.

“Yeah, I suppose so.”

He presses a chaste kiss on your lips before hopping down the stairs, sending a soft smile over his shoulder before making his way home.

You smile gently, letting yourself inside and ignoring your heavily beating heart.

When you wake on Monday, you get ready a little too quickly. You’re excited to see Luke after your date on Saturday, more excited than you are nervous. The part of your subconscious that doesn’t want you to be happy makes you worry that Luke has realized that you’re too immature for him, or not pretty enough, or generally not interesting enough.

You choose to ignore that part of your brain.

It isn’t long before Luke’s name pops up on your phone to inform you that he’s parked out front, so you grab your swim bag from the foot of your bed and rush outside to see him. The sun shines in your eyes and reflects off of the black car in your driveway, so you squint on your way to your seat.

“Good morning,” he sing-songs, and you smile sweetly at him.

“Good morning.” You mimic him. He chuckles softly, allowing his hand to fall to your thigh as he reverses out of your driveway.

“Are you ready for training today?” He asks, and you roll your eyes, your hand moving to rest on top of his.

“I’m sure I can handle whatever you throw at me.” You laugh, and he shakes his head.

“Don’t think I’m gonna go easy on you just because I think you’re cute,” he teases, and you ignore the blush raising up your neck. “I let you off easy on Thursday because it was your first workout with me, but today we’re working hard.”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine.” You assure him.

Less than half an hour later, you’ve sprawled yourself across the cement next to the pool, Luke staring at you from the water.

“Remember how confident you were that you could handle this?” He teases, and you move your head to glare at him.

“Fuck off.” You groan. He laughs.

“You calling it quits?” He asks you.

“God, yes. Put me out of my misery.” You whimper. You aren’t usually one to admit defeat, but you can barely breath. Luke pulls himself out of the pool and you watch him, blushing at the sight of his strong arms lifting him out of the water. He stands above you and you stare up at him, lazily reaching your hand out to him. He chuckles softly, gripping your hand and pulling you up as well. His hand rests on your hip, pulling you into him, much like Saturday night.

“Hello.” He teases, and you groan again, resting your head against his chest and sighing, allowing your breathing to slow.

“Why do you hate me?” You ask him sarcastically. He laughs loudly, hugging you close to him. Your arms wrap around him.

“I don’t hate you, I adore you.” He says, rubbing your back. “How ‘bout we go out to breakfast?” He suggests. You lean back, your arms still around one another as you stare up at him.

“Can I shower first? I smell like chlorine.” You say, and he scoffs with a smile.

“Yeah, we’ll shower.” He says with a nod, leaning down to your height. You grin, stepping up on your toes to press your lips to his. His tongue immediately runs along your bottom lip, urging you to open your mouth. You, of course, indulge him and part your lips, his tongue running across the roof of your mouth. You shudder against him, and in turn, feel how excited he’s gotten. He moans softly into your mouth and your hands grip his back, your fervor increasing. He pulls away with heavy breathing, resting his head against your own. “We’d better get going.” He says, and you nod.

Letting go of him, the two of you walk closely together until you get to the adjacent doors of the two locker rooms. “I shouldn’t be long, maybe ten minutes?” You say, and he nods swiftly, carefully trying to conceal his hard-on. You turn on your heel, walking quickly into the locker room behind you.

You’re only slightly overwhelmed because now you know that Luke is as attracted to you as you are to him. Also, because you know that less than twenty feet from you, he’s just as turned on as you are.

In a moment of uncharacteristic boldness, you turn around and walk confidently into the men’s locker room across the hall. “Luke?” You call out, already hearing the running water.

“(Y/N)?” He asks, and at the sound of his voice, all confidence that had filled you just seconds before has been lost as quickly as it had come across you as you blanch. This is weird, it’s so weird, and you’re embarrassed.

“I-um...I think I forgot m-my soap, so...do you have any extra, maybe?” It’s a poor excuse, and you know it before it even falls from your lips.

Luke laughs. He already knows. “C’mere.” He says, soft but demanding. You listen to him, walking timidly to the running shower. The air is steamy and you’re acutely aware of his swimsuit draped over the bench near his bag. With a quick glance to the clock, ensuring it was still far too early for any of the usuals to come, you reach his shower. His eyes lock on you immediately, his hand reaching out for you. You take a step forward, bringing yourself into reaching distance as he grips your hip and presses you against him. While you had avoided looking at his lower half when you stepped into the shower, you know now that you didn’t need to. You can feel him pressing against you. “Now, what’re you doing in here?” He asks, his voice significantly lower now than it had been before.

“Um...I don’t know, I guess. Looking for you.” You’re much shyer than you felt was appropriate, considering the two of you were one layer away from being completely bare against one another.

His fingers play with the zipper on your suit, looking to you for permission. You nod softly, staring up at him as he unzips it, pulling the straps off your shoulders. “Looking for me, huh?” He looks up just before your suit uncovers your breasts and closes the curtain behind him. He looks back to you with a sweet smile, the change in his demeanor sudden. His hands return to the top of your suit and, with one more look for the go-ahead, he pulls it down to your waist. His hands immediately move to your chest, leaning down to attach his lips to your exposed decolletage. He pushes the rest of your suit down and when you kick it off, he bends down, grabbing it from around your ankles and hanging it on the hook across from you.

You giggle at his care for your swimsuit and he smiles at you, before kneeling again and kissing up your leg. Whatever laugh was left on your lips is immediately cut off by the deep breath you take. His hands hold your hips tightly as his lips move right up to the crux of your thighs before moving to the bottom of your other leg. You can’t do anything to slow your heavy breathing as you watch him, your hand reaching down to wrap into his hair. He looks up to you, sees the desperation on your face, and smirks. His hand hooks around your ankle and throws your leg over his shoulder, leaving you exposed to him. He hums softly, before leaning forward and licking a thick stripe up your slit. You moan loudly and he leans back to look up at you. “Baby, you’ve got to be quiet.” He insists, and you nod with a lip between your teeth. He resumes, taking another long swipe over you slit before wrapping his lips around your clit, sucking softly. He moans against you and grips your hip firmly.

Your hand flies to your face to cover your mouth. “Oh, my god,” you murmured. The hand still curled in his hair tugs lightly to get his attention. He pulls away and you remove your leg from over his shoulder, pulling him up to stand before you. He licks his lips before he presses them to yours, the taste of yourself still lingering. His lean body presses you against the wall. Your hand reaches between your bodies, finding his cock and wrapping your hand around him. He gasps against your mouth as you lazily stroke him. You shudder at the size of him in your hand, breaking the kiss to look down at where you’re holding him. You moan outright at the sight of it, as does he. He kisses you chastely again before gripping your wrist and pulling your hand off of him. “I want to fuck you.”

Too turned on to say give a proper response, you say, “I’m on the pill.”

Luke silently thanks god. You thank your dermatologist.

His hand grips your thigh, hooking your leg around his hips. “Y’want me to fuck you?” He murmurs.

His words shock you and it’s all you can do not burst into tears. You nod fervently, “Please. Please, Luke.” Your hips move toward him, causing him to chuckle. His hips meet yours, rubbing himself against you without slipping inside. You whimper, both of your hands gripping his biceps.

“C’mon, pretty girl, can I hear you say it?” He asks, his voice sweet, a stark contrast against the way his cock is slipping through your folds.

“I want you to fuck me, Luke. Please.” You moan. The desperation in your voice is clear and he moans, gripping himself and pushing in.

Your fingernails dig into his shoulders, both of your faces screwed up in pleasure as he gives you a moment to adjust to him. As soon as he draws his hips back, you realize you’ve only felt half of him inside you and you whimper again, pulling him close to you. He pushes in again, settling fully inside of you. You moan loudly, biting your lips as Luke’s hand immediately covers your mouth. He begins to thrust, setting a steady pace. Your nails continue to dig into his shoulders as his dig into your hips, holding you in place with his free hand as he thrusts into you. The hand covering your mouth slips down to wrap gently around your throat and you have to force yourself to keep quiet. “Faster, Luke. Please.” You beg, one of your hands reaching to grip the wrist resting on your chest.

He complies, drawing his hips back and pounding into you. All you can hear is running water and Luke’s skin slapping against yours, and all you can feel is Luke slamming into you. The hand holding your hip moves to your clit, the speed and strength of his hips not subsiding. His fingertips rub your clit firmly as he leans in to speak to you.

You’re embarrassingly close for how short the two of you have been going, and the sound of his voice only brings you closer to the brink of your orgasm. “S’that feel good? You like when I fuck you like that?” He asks heavily, panting in your ear.

“Yes, Luke, fuck,” You moan, pulling him closer to you as you moan into his shoulder.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good.” He moans, and if you weren’t so close to coming that you were almost hysterical, you’d giggle at how vocal he is.

“Oh, my god. I’m close, Luke, please,” You’re babbling, but seeing him begin to lose control shows you that he’s close too. He hums, adding more pressure to your clit and attaching his lips to the junction of your neck and shoulder, and this is exactly what pushes you over the edge.

Your brows furrow and your head tilts back against the wall behind you as your orgasm washes over you. You walls clench around Luke and his hips stutter. “Oh, fuck, (Y/N),” he groans against your neck as you trigger his orgasm. The fingers wrapped around your neck tighten slightly as he comes in you, a loud moan falling from his lips. Your own hand covers his mouth, causing you to giggle softly as he twitches against you. “Jesus Christ.” He says softly. He pulls out and you drop your leg, allowing your body to rest against the wall behind you. Both of you are breathing heavily but this doesn’t stop him from pressing a kiss to your lips, pulling you close to him. “Are you good?” He asks after he pulls away, and you can’t help but smile at him.

“Absolutely.” You say, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder. The two of you stand under the running water for only a minute or two before Luke breaks the silence.

“So...breakfast?”

[nerdsies]

Goodbye From the Refuge

[saltedbutters]

Ok um I don't know anything about farms But I want 1920ish farm boys Kenny and Butters bunny au so let's pretend I know stuff It’s long so it’s under the cut (also I drew art for it here!)

So, everyone lives in a small rural farming community in the middle of fucking nowhere, and it's like 1920-30ish?? Like, phones exist, cars exist, but I don't want to deal with the great depression (cuz i know that was bad for farmers).

(Background)(im using this to break up how fucking long this is) The Stotch's have a very big and prosperous farm. They have lots of workers employed (and Butters used to play villains and super heroes and enlist the workers as his minions of chaos when he was little). While Mr. & Mrs. Stotch don't do much farm work themselves (more just managing the workers) they make Butters work to "build character". He receives private tutoring so he can successfully inherit the family farm Butters favorite work to do is taking care of the dairy cows, and he probably got the nickname Butters for being good at churning butter by hand or some shit. He probably makes really nice pastries and things with the fresh ingredients. They live in a nice big southern house and have a respectable place in the community.

Unlike the Stotchs, the McCormicks just have a small family run farm. Their crops/animals aren't very good and they don't make a lot of profit off them. They're looked down on by the community for being drunks, having no education, etc. Kenny goes to public school not cuz he has to or his parents want him to, but because he wants to be better than them. He takes Karen with him so she can have more options in life and maybe move out of the shit town. Also the McCormicks definitely grow weed (and Stephen Stotch tries so hard to get them caught for it, but Butters always calls their house to give them a heads up).

(bunny stuff starts here) Butters doesn't leave the property much except to go into the main town with his father or mother every so often for church or to check out the shops or make a delivery. He's friends with Eric who lives next to him (though a decent ways away still taking the size of the farm lands into account). Kenny also lives next to him (another reason Stephen doesn't like them is because he thinks they sneak into his fields and steal his crops, but rest it's just Butters giving shit away).

The first time Butters realized he has another neighbor his age (like 8yo) he wanted to be friends but his father wouldn't let him, but he'd still sneak out sometimes to spend time with Kenny. It was never much and despite the "Romeo and Juliet" vibe, and they never got that close in the end. Butters got more busy with his tutoring and farm work that he slowly stopped sneaking over to visit (like 11yo).

Once Butters grew to be a teenager (16 maybe) he was taking a walk and ended up a familiar path that went along the edge of the McCormick farm and of course he sees Kenny fucking chopping wood or some gay ass shit and he's staring cuz holy shit he got HOT. Butters doesn't even realize these bi feels but suddenly he reeeeally wants to go to public school and he begs and begs his parents till they give in. And now Butters gets to see Kenny a lot more often. Not every day cuz Kenny doesn't always show up, but way more than he saw him before.

The tan and the muscles Kenny gets from working on the farm BOIII Butters can't deal with these strange feelings.

He finds out Kenny kind of grew to dislike him because he though he was the same as his family and the reason he stopped visiting was because he's grown to dislike the McCormicks too. But Karen meets Butters and gets excited because he's the one who always calls to let them know about Stephen trying to get them caught for weed crimes (Kenny doesn't like Karen to be outside working a lot so she's usually inside and is the one to answer the house phone).

(bunny intensifies) Over time they get closer, hang out with Cartman, Kyle, and Stan too. But it ends up being just the two of them quite often. Sometimes they all smoke weed and get up to dumb shit like skinny dipping in the lake at night, and Butters doesn't realize how obvious his stares at Kenny are. Especially when Kenny steps out of the water and Butters goes beet red but doesn't realize he should probably look away. Butters thinks every scar and freckle and tan line is fucking gorgeous, meanwhile Kenny can't stop thinking of running his hands up and down Butters' smooth skin.

Neither asks the other out, they just kind of slowly tumble down this hill of getting more and more intimate, touches lingering, eyes meeting, and the space between them closing at their lips.

They have to sneak around, it would be bad in an innumerable amount of ways if they were caught with their hands all over each other, so they sneak and hide and it's exciting and Butters can't help his giggling as Kenny grabs his hand and pulls him off behind the general store to kiss him senseless.

They end up spending a lot of time in the hayloft on the Stotch farm, Butters doesn't have to worry about his parents going up there, but he can still hear them if they call for him. Kenny doesn't have to worry about anyone coming for him if he's not home. Sometimes he even sleeps in the loft if he doesn't want to go back that night. The smell of hay isn't exactly romantic but they get used to it. You can't be picky in choosing make-out spots when if literally anyone in this shitty small farm town caught you it would be the town gossip for months. If Stephen heard anything about Butters just spending time with a McCormick he'd be fucked, so any public time they spend together has to be under the cover of the other three boys too. (sad stuff) Kenny sees bruises and marks on Butters skin for the first time and knows exactly what they are from. They're making out in the loft and Kenny's hands wander and Butters urges him on without thinking. And Kenny's rough hands slide his shirt up only to suddenly stop when he sees ugly purple bruises blooming on butters ribs. And Butters is embarrassed, trying to hide them, he doesn't want that part of his life to exist in this perfect bubble he feels he's in when he's with Kenny. But Kenny can see these aren't new and Butters has been hiding these marks from him from the beginning and he gets so angry. He wants to go fight Stephen right there but he sees the way Butters sits in a tighter ball and won't look at him and immediately calms himself down because the last thing he'd ever want to do is scare his boyfriend more. And they just sit there in the loft together, Kenny's hand rubbing soft circles, occasionally playing with Butters hair until he falls asleep in his arms. They both feel so lucky and happy to have each other, even if they're the only ones who know it. (Harvest Dance!!) There's an annual Harvest Dance held at the town hall which includes food and games and all kinds of things, it's one of the town's best events and pretty popular for couple's. Butters really wants to go with Kenny, so Karen helps out in lending Butters a dress and things to turn him into the "new girl passing through town" Marjorine. Some of the guys are even a little jealous that McCormick of all people managed to win her over and take her to the Harvest Dance. And Kenny is so so SO openly flirtatious and he can't stop holding her hand and wrapping his arm around her waist, holding her close for all the dances. He doesn't care how it looks, what does his reputation have to lose? And Marjorine? She will be gone after the Harvest Dance has finished. Whatever the town's people think of her won't matter. They've never been more free than now.

(gets a little nsfw over here now) (It's gonna get dirty now so let me also add in that they've been together over at least a year now, getting closer over time and progressing in their relationship didn't happen overnight so they're like 17-18 possible even 19 depending on how the bday timeline is):

They sit down after a couple dances to eat and Kenny can't stop sneaking his hand up Marjorine's thigh, under her dress. And although Marjorine might be able to keep herself composed, Butters sure can't. He's getting a boner and the last thing he needs is anyone seeing THAT under his dress and becoming suspicious of who exactly this "girl passing through" is. Kenny is such a trouble maker he knows exactly what he's doing.

Marjorine says she needs some fresh air and drags Kenny off with her. It's night by now, and behind the town hall are a couple picnic tables and trees. It's not very well lit, but they see another couple getting handsy nearby thought it's too dim to tell who. And also they don't much care who it is because right now it's just Kenny and some girl no one knows shoved up against the side of the building. And Butters pulls Kenny flush against him, their limbs tangling as they grind against each other. Butters heart is going a mile a minute, he's so excited he wants to be seen, he wants to be caught. Because right now he's Marjorine and no one can tell him what to do. He's not Stephen Stotch's son, there's no one to report to if he's seen getting humped by the McCormick boy.

Kenny's absolutely intoxicated with how confident and bold Butters is being that night, he's so noisy with his moans as Kenny grinds against him and mouths at his neck, occasionally biting and sucking hickies into his perfect, soft skin, the only marks Kenny ever wants to be left on him. Butters will have to wear a bandanna around his neck for a couple of days but it's worth it it's so so worth it. And he'd probably look cute in it to top it off.

Butters' clinging to Kenny so hard as they grind up against eachother, he's panting loudly in Kenny's ear and it's driving him crazy. They don't last long, they haven't been fooling around for very long so neither can hold it together. Kenny keeps his mouth occupied whether it's on Butters' neck or lips because he doesn't want to risk moaning out his name and getting caught, meanwhile Butters is letting Kenny's name fall from his lips like it's the only string of sounds he knows.

Eventually they both cum and are left panting against each other. They regain their breath and slowly make their way back to Kenny's where Butters changes back into his clothes and they walk hand in hand to the Stotch farm where Kenny sends Butters off with a kiss and a promise to see him tomorrow.

(thats all for now) Okay wow that was a fucking LOT. This is the revised version but it's really not that far off from what I originally wrote (which was just a shit ton of messages to Austin while he was asleep cuz I was high and thinking about fucking farm boy??? bunny au). Kinda inspired by @/silkyskiies bunny drawing with Butters in overalls. That drawing snatched my heart. Flirtatious gay ass farm/gardener looking Butters owns my dick. I'm looking at the pic again and wanting to make more aus like what if Butters was a gardener, like flower shop au except it's a whole ass gardening store. I need to stop before I go off cuz I will and this post is long enough. If u like shit like this be sure to tell me or I’ll probably think no one is interested.

[nyctimus]

Text symbols meme thing for Ivanpez and Talix and like lit anyone else you wanna do it for.

Set in MB:R verse!

IVANPEZ-

MORNING text.

8:03 am [Kolya → Lyubimiy❤️] Hi handsome! Don’t forget you promised to meet me for brunch at that cute little bistro on main, okay?! Can’t wait to see your pretty face! 🥰

text that WASN’T SENT.

9:30 pm [Kolya → Lyubimiy❤️] My mother has enough money to cover the slack for us if you just quit your job

RUSHED text.

4:45 pm [Kolya → Lyubimiy❤️] I’m SOOO sooo sorry I’m running late :((( Got stuck in the goddamn metroplex traffic, swear to god I’ll move to the wilderness and abandon the city completely one day. I’ll be there soon! Promise!

DRUNK text.

3:09 am [Kolya → Lyubimiy❤️] Move in with me wuit your job. I’ll quit mine. We can go somewhere nice like ...  3:12 am [Kolya → Lyubimiy❤️] Whefe? Where you what to go 3:13 am [Kolya → Lyubimiy❤️] Beach? We c an skinny dip every night 3:13 am [Kolya → Lyubimiy❤️] Hou can buiold a nice beach hut an I will make nice curtains for it, okay?

SUGGESTIVE text.

2:57 pm [Kolya → Lyubimiy❤️] If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you insisted on wearing that skimpy little white tank to work in just to try and tempt me to tear it off of you. 

LATE NIGHT text.

1:15 am [Kolya → Lyubimiy❤️] Come here. I want cuddles, and my bed is nicer than yours

HATEFUL text.

5:44 pm [Kolya → Lyubimiy❤️] Peter. 5:44 pm [Kolya → Lyubimiy❤️] I don’t know what I’ve done to upset you, but I promise I’ll right it. 5:49 pm [Kolya → Lyubimiy❤️] What do you mean? Of course I have, why else would you have worn those atrocious, eye- searing shirts every day for the past WEEK if not to punish me? 5:51 pm [Kolya → Lyubimiy❤️] What? 5:51 pm [Kolya → Lyubimiy❤️] Don’t be ridiculous. Of course you’re punishing me. 5:52 pm [Kolya → Lyubimiy❤️] Still too angry to tell me what I’ve done, I see. Okay. I’ll try again later.

RANDOM text.

2:32 pm [Kolya → Lyubimiy❤️] Gold or indigo? I can’t decide.

SCARED text.

6:45 pm [Kolya → Lyubimiy❤️] Hey, I thought you’d be back by now? 7:02 pm [Kolya → Lyubimiy❤️] Pete? 7:13 pm [Kolya → Lyubimiy❤️] Peter??? Please pick up 7:26 pm [Kolya → Lyubimiy❤️] Baby please

LOVING text.

10:50 pm [Kolya → Lyubimiy❤️] Good night, sweet boy, I hope you have the very best dreams... I know you’re nervous about tomorrow, but you shouldn’t be... you’re perfect. 10:52 pm [Kolya → Lyubimiy❤️] You’ve got this. Now get some rest... don’t make me come over there 10:52 pm [Kolya → Lyubimiy❤️] Fine, then. See you soon

CURIOUS text.

3:13 pm [Kolya → Lyubimiy❤️] What are your favorite appetizers? Salty or sweet? Party hosting has become just a little more complicated since I started caring more about your opinion than my own. Feelings can be so pesky sometimes 😛

EXCITED text.

3:13 pm [Kolya → Lyubimiy❤️] Pete!  3:13 pm [Kolya → Lyubimiy❤️] Can you believe we’re leaving on our veeeery first vacation together as a couple together today? Even if it’s just a little two day getaway, I’m SO excited, I’ve been looking forward to this all week. 3:13 pm [Kolya → Lyubimiy❤️] Can’t wait to have you all to myself. You may be sick of me by the time this is over. Fair warning!

ACCIDENTAL text.

1:19 am [Kolya → Lyubimiy❤️] Oh, I don’t know. I think it’s entirely possible I’m just a way for him to pass a little time. And I’m fine with that. Obviously. Why wouldn’t I be?

HEARTBREAKING text.

1:19 am [Kolya → Lyubimiy❤️] Pete? 1:24 am [Kolya → Lyubimiy❤️] My mother just died. I.... I’m packing to head home to Paris now. Can you go with me?

/ / /

TALIX-

MORNING text.

5:25 am [Felix → Sweet Po-Tate-o 🍠] I know you’re sleeping and won’t even see this for another 6 hours or so, but if you come give me a ride home I’ll smuggle you a whole loaf of that cinnamon coffee cake you like. Please

text that WASN’T SENT.

10:17 am [Felix → Sweet Po-Tate-o 🍠] How do you do it? Live like that constantly? It was a ten minute experience two months ago but I’m still having nightmares

RUSHED text.

3:59 am [Felix → Sweet Po-Tate-o 🍠] K, I know Ellis would probably throw the entire knife drawer at your face if you show back up here but there are SO many drunk assholes here right now it almost seems worth it to beg you to come save me

DRUNK text.

9:42 am [Felix → Sweet Po-Tate-o 🍠] U just reality want you to hold me brighttnkw 9:42 am [Felix → Sweet Po-Tate-o 🍠] Plea.Se. And pet my hair, Anne kiss my nose. Ok?

SUGGESTIVE text.

4:35 pm [Felix → Sweet Po-Tate-o 🍠] I know this is fucked up, okay... 4:35 pm [Felix → Sweet Po-Tate-o 🍠] And idk if it’s the full moon or what, but I can’t stop thinking about you with your gun when I’m getting off 4:35 pm [Felix → Sweet Po-Tate-o 🍠] Your actual gun. Not your dick, love that one too but the one you... you know what I mean  4:35 pm [Felix → Sweet Po-Tate-o 🍠] The way you hold it. Your fingers. Those fucking veins in your arms, Jesus Christ

LATE NIGHT text.

1:32 am [Felix → Sweet Po-Tate-o 🍠] Are you okay? I know it’s silly to be afraid for you every single time the news mentions turf wars and casualties, but I worry about you. Text me when you can

HATEFUL text.

5:18 am [Felix → Sweet Po-Tate-o 🍠] Swear to fuck next stuck up ass businessman that walks through these doors, orders coffee and then wrinkles his nose when he tastes it is getting the whole pot poured on his fancyboy suit. Why do people come here wanting Starbucks? I’m going to scream

RANDOM text.

7:30 pm [Felix → Sweet Po-Tate-o 🍠] ...Pretty sure your kid is here staking me out right now. Not even subtle. Staring me down as I text this. Should I be concerned? Pretend I don’t know him? SOS

SCARED text.

4:06 pm [Felix → Sweet Po-Tate-o 🍠] I think someone’s following me. I keep seeing the same car. At work, outside my apartment 4:07 pm [Felix → Sweet Po-Tate-o 🍠] In the parking lot at Krogers. What should I do? 4:08 pm [Felix → Sweet Po-Tate-o 🍠] I know if they see you it might make things worse but can you come get me? Please. I’m scared

LOVING text.

7:31 am [Felix → Sweet Po-Tate-o 🍠] Hey, hot stuff. I’ll be dead to the world by the time you read this but I just wanted to tell you I hope you have a good day. Kick everyone’s ass. Don’t get arrested. 💖 xo

CURIOUS text.

9:22 pm [Felix → Sweet Po-Tate-o 🍠] What do you have planned for Thanksgiving? My brother’s hounding me to bring you back to the farm. No pressure either way. He’s kind of a lot. I think he wants to shovel talk you, so... feel free to be busy, haha

EXCITED text.

5:48 pm [Felix → Sweet Po-Tate-o 🍠] You know that cat I’ve been leaving canned tuna out for for like, the last month and a half? 5:48 pm [Felix → Sweet Po-Tate-o 🍠] SHE CAME INSIDE 5:48 pm [Felix → Sweet Po-Tate-o 🍠] And killed my favorite plant, but! SHE CAME INSIDE!!!

ACCIDENTAL text.

8:57 pm [Felix → Sweet Po-Tate-o 🍠] I know you’re just worried about me, and I get that 8:57 pm [Felix → Sweet Po-Tate-o 🍠] But you need to fuck off. It’s none of your business, man

HEARTBREAKING text.

6:22 am [Felix → Sweet Po-Tate-o 🍠] I know I’m being an asshole doing this over text 6:22 am [Felix → Sweet Po-Tate-o 🍠] But I’ve been trying for weeks to say it in person, and I just can’t. I look at you and it wipes everything else out of my brain 6:22 am [Felix → Sweet Po-Tate-o 🍠] I don’t know how to commit to a guy with a kid. 6:22 am [Felix → Sweet Po-Tate-o 🍠] And I know you warned me, first thing, and I know I’m being horribly selfish 6:22 am [Felix → Sweet Po-Tate-o 🍠] I just. I guess I’m looking for something else. 6:22 am [Felix → Sweet Po-Tate-o 🍠] I’m sorry.

/ / /

DONNY/GRAHAM-

MORNING text.

7:37 am [Graham → bitchboy] it’s cold, jackass. if you’re gonna fucking leave me here to freeze by myself you could at least turn up the heat wtf 7:37 am [Graham → bitchboy] inconsiderate motherfucker

text that WASN’T SENT.

7:36 am [Graham → bitchboy] please come back, i dont sleep as well without you

RUSHED text.

6:44 pm [Graham → bitchboy] fucking setup? target expecting me so find your leak

DRUNK text & ACCIDENTAL text.

2:57 am [Graham → bitchboy] i wasfn EXPECTING him, tyler 2:57 am [Graham → bitchboy] i mean everypnoes heard of him. what an asshole he is. cause he is. but hes this asshole who owns a TEDDY BEAR 2:59 am [Graham → bitchboy] of course you won’t believe nme but im not lyin i swear it on my mams grave 3:02 am [Graham → bitchboy] and its not his sons. its his. its so cute. hes cyte. ill stab your duck if you tell anyone 3:03 am [Graham → bitchboy] duck 3:03 am [Graham → bitchboy] duck 3:03 am [Graham → bitchboy] y ouknow.  3:04 am [Graham → bitchboy] god. 3:04 am [Graham → bitchboy] its’ terinle

SUGGESTIVE text & EXCITED text.

11:52 pm [Graham → bitchboy] finally finished up here. 11:52 pm [Graham → bitchboy] eta 47 mins, have your office clear and my reward ready ;)

LATE NIGHT text.

12:02 am [Graham → bitchboy] sometimes i feel like you’re intentionally giving me the lamest possible fucking targets. wtf. i like killing bitches that will stab me back, not pushing pathetic ass grannies down the stairs while her 50 cats watch me? im picking my own files from here on out 12:03 am [Graham → bitchboy] and im bringing the cats 12:03 am [Graham → bitchboy] maybe youll think twice before pulling this shit on me again

HATEFUL text.

6:26 pm [Graham → bitchboy] you sign my paychecks. thats it. you dont get to tell me what to do outside of that. dont get it twisted just because were fucking, asshole

RANDOM text.

8:32 pm [Graham → bitchboy] idc what we do for dinner but i really want cheesecake so

CURIOUS text.

4:30 am [Graham → bitchboy] idk what you and dj usually do for holidays. should i head out? i can crash at my old room at tys, i dont mind

SCARED text & LOVING text & HEARTBREAKING text.

4:29 am [Graham → bitchboy] idk, got me good thus time. pulling over. behind sunoco on 35. dont wnna crash but you should send someone to gt rid of the folders if not my body too by rhen. too much evidence sorry 4:30 am [Graham → bitchboy] im really sorry 4:30 am [Graham → bitchboy] i love you. sorry for not telling you until now . sorry. im so sorry