#like genuinely- as long as i try i have a chance of success !!!!!

[girl-bateman]

Exchange semester in the Netherlands???? Hello ???? Fall of 2024 ???? I got accepted ???

[appocalipse]

Grand Gesture | eddie munson

summary: catching feelings for your best friend was never in your plans. when you start distancing yourself from him to protect your heart, eddie vows to do everything in his power to keep it forever.

“Come over for dinner tonight?” Eddie asks, trying to sound natural but maybe not being quite successful. “Wayne misses you, you know.”

It's a lie and he knows it — not that Wayne doesn't like you, far from it, but Eddie is painfully aware he's the one who misses you the most. He feels like a part of him is missing. His uncle, on the other hand, is a man of actions more than a man of words, and judging by the way he always ordered your favorite pizza flavor when you'd come visit Eddie, or how he'd give an understanding smile whenever Eddie did so much as mention your name, it was safe to say he considered you as much family as he did Eddie himself.

But that was before. Eddie now has to be quick if he wants to talk to you between classes. Most of the time you're no more than a blur to him — the ghost of his childhood best friend.

You look up at him very quickly — as if your eyes would burn if your gaze lingered too long, even — and you shove some books out of your backpack into the locker with little care. You smile, but Eddie knows all of your genuine smiles and this isn't one of them.

“Uh, well, I can't today,” you say. "Sorry."

"Tomorrow?"

"Busy too."

You seem to be calculating an escape route as you look down the hall. Eddie feels terribly pathetic when he asks again, "What about next week?"

“I have a test next week, I'll have to study.”

“Oh,” is all he manages to say.

Eddie doesn't remember any tests happening the following week. He twirls a ring around his finger nervously and tries to convince himself that it might be from a class of yours that he doesn't attend.

“Thanks for inviting me anyway," you close the locker and smile that same smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes. "Say hi to Wayne for me, okay?”

“...sure.”

You're leaving once more. Eddie feels panic rising in his throat, swallows hard, and says, before he can stop himself, "You're still going to The Hideout on Tuesday, right?"

Tuesday. It was something you and him had agreed on a while ago; Corroded Coffin played at The Hideout every Tuesday and most Tuesdays you'd go see them, but if you couldn't make it every time, the deal was that you'd go at least once a month. And you hadn't been there for the last three Tuesdays, which made this your last chance to keep your promise.

You look over your shoulder at Eddie, saying, "I'll try." And wave before rushing off to your next class without looking back.

He immediately knows you won't come; it's remarkable how much distance you've managed to put between the two of you in such a short amount of time.

On the other hand, you know you can't go to The Hideout on Tuesday.

Not because you have an appointment you can't reschedule or because you've already made plans you don't want to miss…but because being in love with your best friend feels awfully like getting a thorn into your foot. You could go weeks without seeing him, slowly forgetting the thorn was there…and then you'd just spend 2 minutes with Eddie and the damn thing would re-enter your skin three times deeper.

So no, you can't go to The Hideout on Tuesday, you decide. Watching Eddie play guitar wouldn't do you any good.

And you don't go. Not this Tuesday, not the next, not the one after that. Time goes by too fast but somehow the days seem to drag on terribly. And then days become weeks, weeks become months. Well, month, singular, but Eddie feels like he's lived a lifetime during the time you're not talking to him. It certainly feels like months.

36 days. Not that the two of you are counting. Definitely not.

Eddie is sitting on his throne in the middle of a Hellfire session, babbling his lines and running the campaign almost robotically, when he thinks of you again. The Eddie from before, the Eddie who still had you in his life, would have been ecstatic as he awaited the day to share this campaign with his little sheep around this very table. Now he's having trouble keeping track of what's going on.

He remembers the general idea; a curse, some monsters, an object capable of saving the world that lies in the power of a female elf the party has to find and convince to help. Yada, yada.

It's the third time he's lost himself inside his own head.

"Dude!"

Eddie looks at Dustin as if he's just been slapped. "What?"

“You're being ridiculous. Just talk to her."

"How dare you-"

Dustin realizes Eddie is about to go on a rant about getting out of character mid-session. He's not sure where all this courage is coming from (maybe it comes from the fact that he really cares about his Dungeon Master's happiness) but Dustin reaches out and lowers the screen in front of Eddie.

“You gotta go find your elf, man,” he says, encouraged by the murmurs of agreement rising from the others in the room. "Like, right now. Looks like your world is coming to an end.”

Eddie has an answer on the tip of his tongue as he looks from face to face and back to Dustin's.

"I'm the Dungeon Master here, Henderson." He doesn't care if he sounds defensive or silly or if the other boys will realize he's purposely pretending not to understand what his friend means. He doesn't care in the least.

“Oh, for God's sake,” insists Dustin, apparently the group's representative now that the subject is Eddie's personal life. "You know very well I'm talking about her."

Eddie makes a move to lift the dungeon master screen once again in hopes of ending the conversation. Dustin pulls it out of his grasp with little care.

"I have no idea what the hell you're talking about."

“You should go after her, man,” suggests Lucas, very quietly.

“Yeah,” Mike agrees, working up the courage to say something when Eddie doesn't say anything. “Believe me, it took some time to figure out my feelings for El, too. But at least I got it at some point, you know.”

“A grand gesture is what you need,” Lucas adds with newfound confidence. "It's what I do when Max doesn't want to talk to me."

He cowers slightly when Eddie looks at him, an appraising brow raised. Dustin is nodding his head emphatically in agreement, though.

“We want our Dungeon Master back,” Gareth says, trying to lighten the mood.

There is a silence that seems to last for years. Then, not quite realizing what he's doing, Eddie stands up, nearly toppling his throne in the process, and pretty much jumps toward the door.

Behind him, the boys shout words of encouragement and whistle with exaggerated excitement.

Grand gesture, huh?

"You should ask Eddie to go to the movies with you."

"Mom," you scold for what feels like the hundredth time tonight, helping her into her coat.

"I just don't like leaving you home alone."

"I'll be fine. I'm practically an adult now."

Of course, you are. The discussion is not about that and you know it. She knows it. But none of you say anything. This conversation has played out several times in many different ways over the past thirty days, and it doesn't look like she's going to stop insisting anytime soon.

Your mother gives you her best puppy dog eyes. "Are you really going to be okay?"

"Yes, yes!" You emphasize, gently pushing her out the front door and smiling as convincingly as you can. "I swear I will. Now go have fun!"

She smiles and kisses the top of your head affectionately.

"Lock the door behind me, okay?"

You do. But you might as well have left the damn thing open, because two minutes after you lock it and just a second after you sit down on the couch, you hear a knock.

You run to the door, key in hand.

"Mom, did you forget something agai-"

But it's not your mom.

"Eddie," you mumble, voice barely a whisper.

It shouldn't be possible, but he's right there in front of you, hands in his pockets as he looks at your face with a nervous smile.

"Hi," he says, voice husky and warm just as you remember.

You feel like your heart is about to find its way out of your rib cage somehow.

Clearing your throat, you finally find your voice. "Aren't you supposed to be at Hellfire?" you ask.

"I left halfway through the session," he says, as if that explains everything. Eddie Ditching Hellfire? When you don't say anything else, standing there looking like you want to slam the door in his face, Eddie quickly adds, "Can I come in?"

"I don't think it's a good idea."

"We need to talk."

"It's not a good time," you say without looking at him, a little upset because, damn, how are you supposed to forget a guy who keeps showing up?

You start to close the door slowly, almost without realizing you're doing it.

Eddie puts his foot in the gap to stop you.

"Please," he begs. "Ten minutes?"

No, no, no. Say no.

Cursing inwardly, you step back and let him in. "Five."

You gesture for him to sit around the small kitchen table and lean against the counter, keeping a safe distance from him, your arms crossed tightly in front of your chest.

You ask him if he'd like something to eat or drink and he denies, hating how he's become a guest at your place, an outsider, someone you no longer have that familiar intimacy with.

You're staring at the floor like it's the most interesting thing you'd ever laid eyes on. "What did you want to talk about?" you ask.

Eddie places both hands on the table, twirling the rings around his fingers anxiously.

"I want…I need to…." he licks his lips and looks at your face, trying to turn thoughts into words and not understanding why it's suddenly so difficult to do so. "Why do you suddenly hate me?"

You can't say you didn't expect to hear a question like this at some point. That doesn't mean you don't get slightly lost when you actually hear it, though.

"I don't hate you, Eddie."

"You didn't talk to me in weeks, you didn't come to see my band," he holds up a finger as he points out each of your actions, "you run the other way whenever you see me in the school hallways…"

His gaze diverts to the space beside you.

“Christ, you even ripped our picture out of your fridge, apparently,” he lets out a completely humorless chuckle, a hint of sadness behind the irony you know all too well.

You look into the empty space he's indicating and suddenly feel guilty. A picture of the two of you the first night Eddie played at the Hideout with the band used to be there.

"I don't hate you," you repeat, silly. "I'd never hate you."

"You don't even look at me."

"Of course I do." You weren't looking until now, but you force yourself to do so even though it's hard. There's something very intimate about looking Eddie in the eyes, you think, something awfully familiar. "I'm looking at you right now."

"Yeah. For 2 seconds, I bet."

You shift your weight from one foot to the other, take a deep breath, and try to keep your thoughts clear.

"Did you come all the way here to tell me to look at you?"

"No," he says. "I came all the way here to say I miss you."

A very long time passes without you saying anything, your chest rising and falling faster than usual. Eddie realizes he's surprised you.

A spark of happiness you shouldn't feel warms your heart. You try to smother it.

In a small voice, he insists, "Don't you miss me?"

Your heart screams yes, but you don't say anything. Eddie stands up, the sound of the chair scraping against the floor sounding alarming to your ears.

“We've been friends for…what? Twelve years? And you're going to tell me that you've simply decided that you don't like my company now?”

“Eddie,” you finally say. "Stop."

You uncross your arms, using your hands to lean against the kitchen counter behind you instead, fighting the urge to run. Whether in Eddie's direction or the opposite, you're still unsure.

"Why? So you can go back to erasing me from your life again without saying anything?” he asks, putting the chair back in place before moving towards you. “You can say it to my face, then. Say you hate me.”

"I don't hate you."

"You certainly don't like me."

"I-"

“Or think of me.”

“I never said-”

"If you tell me to leave now, I swear I will and I won't come back," he promises and you know it's true. But then, slower, lighter, almost whispering, he adds, “…but that's not what I want.”

You should tell him to go away, to leave. You know he won't give up if you don't tell him to do so, but you can't bring yourself to be cruel to him, not even to protect your own heart.

So instead, the spark of hope becomes a flame inside your chest and you find yourself asking, “And what do you want?”

For a good five seconds, Eddie looks at you like he's facing a crossroads. Then he comes closer and places his hands over yours, one on either side of you, any definition of personal space momentarily forgotten as he moves his face closer to yours.

“I want…,” he begins, and it's thanks to the way you can feel each word that leaves his lips that you're made aware of how close you are, that you're between him and the kitchen counter. That he's about to kiss you. “I want to-”

His forehead rests against yours, his eyes slowly fluttering closed. The words he wants to say never make it past his mouth.

He is about to kiss you, right?

“Eddie-”

Eddie leans back just enough to consider the expression on your face, eyes big and brown and warm.

"You want me to go?" he whispers.

“No,” you're not surprised at how quickly you respond. Your hand slips from under his to brush a dark curl out of his eyes. "I broke our promise, though."

"It's okay."

He leans in. You feel his lips at the corner of your mouth and let out a sigh. "I'm sorry. I'll go to every single one of your gigs from now on-"

“Please,” he begs, a distinct hint of affection behind his words. "Stop talking."

"What you're doing?"

His upper lip touches yours. You can feel his reluctant smile when he says, “A grand gesture, I hope.”

And then, Eddie closes the gap — your breath catches the very moment his mouth meets yours, his kiss gentle, slow, a step too big to be taken all at once. He leans in and you feel his chest against yours, one hand sliding to the small of your back and pressing you even closer, another moving up your arm, over your shoulder, to the crook of your neck and your jaw. He holds your face and you sigh against his mouth, your lips parted invitation enough for him to deepen the kiss.

And God, being kissed like this does feel like a grand gesture.

He tastes exactly like you thought he would and somehow entirely different at the same time — something familiar, something safe, but also something new and fiery and wonderful.

You're breathing heavily — Eddie not much different — when he finally breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against yours, eyes still closed.

“Tell me to stay,” he whispers. In the silence of the empty house, it's more than enough. “Please tell me you want me to stay, sweetheart, 'cause I have no fucking idea how to stay away from you.”

You're still coming to your senses, all too aware of the hand he keeps tightly on your waist, of the gentle movement of his calloused thumb against your cheek.

You wrap your arms around his neck and smile the most genuine smile he's ever seen on your face.

“As if I’d ever let you go after this, Munson.”

[xo-cod]

https://www.tumblr.com/xo-cod/738798264594415616/141-k%C3%B6nig-sex-bloopers

sorry yeah that's it i meant irl it's not perfect and stuff happens sometimes :) whatever ignore this im silly

you're not silly, i loved this :') <3 this might be cringe and it's ooc/rushed/headcannons but LMAOO i tried my best :") nsfw/sfw ahead!

part 2

the not so sexy moments of sex with the 141

price trying to be all sexy and suave loosening his top and removing his bucket hat in an act of seduction which results in him stubbing his toe and yelping in pain for a good few minutes

gaz panicking at the thought of his cum going into your eye after a blowjob and proceeding to scare himself for days on the off-chance you develope some sort of eye infection

soap after getting slightly confused with what he was doing grabbed a diagram of a vagina and made you hold it so he could have better success rate of making you cum

simon screeching loudly after snapping on his latex condom a little harder than recommended. bear with him, he has to take a few minutes, his body took a screenshot from how intense it was

price ending up falling asleep during a hand job but in his defence he was on five days with three hours of sleep and a whole bunch of coffee that was keeping him going

gaz very confidently and with that half smirk of his, mid way giving you the best head asking you if you're about to have an organism

soap realizing very quickly that food play is not like the movies and that it stings/burns, proceeds to awkwardly hop and waddle into the bathroom

simon trying be all cute and romantic which results in him spooning you close to his body, only to proceed to hack and choke when he inhaled your hair by accident

price having the lack of coordination after he tried to undress himself trying to come over to the bed and ending up face planting into the floor with a huge thud and a string of curse words following by (this mans just stays falling LMAO)

gaz genuinely ashamed about tearing your expensive lingerie in his excitement that he gives himself a time out and learns the true meaning patience

simon, bless his heart, already breaking the bedframe in his excitement when he grabbed you and pinned you against it.

gaz frantically trying to get it back it up, cussing his cock out and trying to awkwardly laugh but it comes out as a cry for help

simon slamming his forehead into the doorframe when he tried to be all hot and sexy, proceeding to cut himself and cuss everything out within a 10 mile radius (never you though :3)

soap's confidence absolutely obliterating when he was so turned on he ended up cumming while trying to get inside you

gaz making you take a survey after sex and telling you to rate the experience and what he could improve on next time

simon absolutely enraged at the mark on your neck thinking someone had hurt you, completely forgetting he was the one to leave it on you and it was a hickey

soap falling asleep while trying to go down on you after he finished a long mission. his head was buried between the warmth and comfort of your thighs and his eyes fell like shutters, nuzzling deep unconsciously into your heat

simon just zoning out when staring at your tits, lost in a trance and you're wondering if he's going to actually touch them. he does so but after a good 15 minutes

price squeezing your tiddies to paw at them and get them all perky but ends up feeling your ribs in the darkness and gets excited.

soap just poking at your nipple mid thrust in pure curiosity. not even to flick or pinch them, just a small poke before he goes back to doing what he was doing

gaz having a sneezing fit when he tried to lick your neck and chest only to be allergic to the perfume you were wearing

[lucky-slice]

Do you understand how much kevin respects neil? And i don't mean when it comes to exy, like sure there's a whole lot of you're not good enough followed by you will make court bluh bluh bluh, i mean fundamentally as a human.

Kevin and Neil's conversation after the truth of Neil's father is revealed drives me absolutely insane because I think it highlights a lot about how Kevin views Neil.

so indulge me for a bit....

I think a lot of people forget, in light of Andrew choking Kevin for not telling him the truth, that Kevin's initial reaction was to tell Neil to run.

*sorry for the quality - these are all screenshots off my phone

Kevin's instinct is to tell Neil to save himself, despite what that would mean for the team's success and for Kevin himself. This is significant to me for two reasons.

It highlights that Kevin genuinely cares about Neil outside of his exy potential. For most people, this would be a pretty obvious response to finding out your teammate has a guaranteed death sentence if they stick around, so it might not seem all that meaningful, but Kevin was raised in such an environment were you continued to play no matter what - even at the risk of death. Kevin is unflinchingly callous when it comes to exy and his teammates (*see his reaction to Seth's death), but he is frantic in his concern for Neil in contrast to his fairly passive response to basically anyone else's wellbeing outside of exy. Neil's death will have no real impact on Kevin. If Neil dies or goes to the ravens, nothing changes for Kevin. He is not at a greater risk of being hurt by Riko or the Moriyama's nor will his exy career be effected. That's not to say he would tell Neil to stay if he cared about him any less, but there is a desperation that implies a depth beyond just that of a teammate.

The fact that Kevin is frantic and desperate for Neil to leave, gives weight to his decision to keep teaching Neil in the aftermath of the revelation.

Neil doesn't want to run - he wants to be Neil Josten until the end. He gave Kevin his game and now he's asking him to keep it and Kevin obliges.

This is essentially Kevin promising that he will keep Neil's secret. He will allow Neil to wear his mask and continue teaching him despite the fact that Neil is essentially a dead man walking. This, to me, is Kevin ultimately respecting Neil and his choice. At any moment, Kevin has the ability to got to Wymack or Andrew and give Neil the chance at surviving, but that would mean betraying Neil.

Some people (certainly the foxes) would view refusing Neil's request as the proper and morally correct thing to do. But I think Kevin's immediate acceptance of Neil's decision is both immensely meaningful to Neil and also a signifier of a shared understanding between to two.

Imagine how impactful it must be for Neil, who has never had autonomy over his own life and has been marked for death basically since he was born, to be told that not only will his decisions and his autonomy be respected, but there is someone who will stand by his side on the court, knowing the whole truth, until the very end.

Kevin doesn't have much to offer Neil at this point. He can not give him a future - he'll be long dead before he can ever make court, and Kevin is a coward - he is not andrew, he can't stand up against the Moriyama's or Riko or Neil's father. Kevin can not protect Neil in a way that matters. All he can do is promise to keep Neil's secret and offer him a few more months of being Neil Josten.

I'm not including this to disparage Andrew or to suggest that he does not respect Neil, but this highlights that Kevin knows the decision to keep Neil's secret is one only Kevin would make. Andrew without a doubt would immediately try to get Neil to leave or attempt to get him into protection. I'm not passing a judgement of morality on what would've been the right thing to do, but I do think Kevin's reaction is indicative of the fact that Neil and Kevin understand each other in a way that no one else really will.

Neil and Kevin are a parallel's in a number of ways. Kevin lived the life that Neil was supposed to have and they are two parts of one story.

To them exy is not a game, but it's not really about exy either. It's about deciding to stay just to play for a couple more months even though you'll wind up dead because playing means you finally get to live after years of being a ghost. It's about playing to be the best no matter what, even though the consequences are having your hand smashed and the life you know completely demolished. It's about playing even though you're shaking with fear and anxiety because you need proof that your life, whether it be running to survive or living under an abusive hand, was not a waste.

Kevin agrees to keep Neil's secret because if the roles were reversed, Kevin would like to believe that he'd be strong enough to ask Neil for the same thing. This is obviously conjecture and a heavy heavy reading between the lines, but I'd like to think there's some truth there.

Finishing up with this line because it makes me a little emotional.

Kevin starts the conversation by calling Neil "Nathaniel" and ends it by calling him Neil again. Its right there in the text, "it was a promise". Kevin is offering Neil a life that is fully his - not his father's, not Riko's, but Neil's to do with what he would like, even if its only for a couple more months. If that's not respect, than I don't know what is.

[h0ney-gl0ws]

Hades Boys! Kiss Headcanons!

Hello! Here are some headcanons about how/where the hades boys like to kiss/be kissed. Now including Dionysus and Ares! Hooray! Thanks for reading, and be mindful of the content warnings. CW: Mentions of PTSD and Panic attacks for Thanatos’, Intoxication for Dionysus (Obv), and mentions of blood with Ares’, oh and angst all around, read with caution!

Word Count (Approx): 1,765

Thanatos Hand Kisses|Soft

After a long shift of reaping souls Thanatos’ hands can get tired of holding his scythe. He’s not one for showing his emotions outwardly, and because of that they can seep through in more subtle ways. For instance, when Zagreus says something ignorant, or when he has to deal with a mortal whose not ready to go, or even when he runs into an Olympian he often finds himself subconsciously gripping his scythe tighter.

He does not realize until the time when he returns to your arms and he can catch his breath, the strain it puts on his hands. Aching and tired after long hours at work. Which is why he appreciates your kisses so.

You delicately ghost your soft lips across his knuckles in a most soothing way. He thinks your kisses are reminiscent of that of a butterfly’s wings. How fitting.

He would cup your face with a tired smile as you press a kiss into the palm of his hand. “Gentle kisses for Gentle Death!” You would proclaim in an attempt to make him laugh.

“My, I often wonder what it is that I did to deserve someone as kind as you…” Thanatos would say in return.

He does so much for the house the least you can do is try to relieve some of the stress. You may not be able to make less work for him, but you can show your appreciation to him by giving him the love and affection he deserves.

On certain days when Thanatos’ mood is dampened due to memories of terror from Sisyphus dirty tricks, the nights he wakes panic stricken with the phantom sting of shackles against his wrists. Your delicate kisses to his wrists help to soothe the burn. Snapping him out of his own mind into reality where he is safe, and you’re there to comfort him.

Your kisses are not only comforting to him, but you are a genuine anchor to him. He does not know how he was able to exist before you came into his life. And he is forever grateful he has you now.

Zagreus Cheek Kisses|Affectionate

For someone who so rarely sees the sunlight he certainly challenges Helios for being the embodiment of it, and his kisses reflect that.

Bright and happy is he as he presses kisses into your cheek at every chance he gets. When he passes you in the hall you bet he’s taking a detour to give you a peck before he has to continue on. When he greets you after coming back from a successful run a celebratory kiss on the cheek is practically mandatory haha.

He loves it when you celebrate with him, nuzzling your face into the side of his. It’s such a small but caring notion that makes Zagreus feel as if he’s falling in love with you all over again.

When he’s preparing to head out for another run you meet him in the courtyard to wish him luck and see him off. He smiles when he catches your figure out of the corner of his eye dashing up to you for a final embrace before he returns once again. You give him another fond kiss on the cheek there whispering in his ear to give it all he’s got and to kick Theseus’ butt once again. Earning a laugh out of Zagreus and the promise that he will dedicate his next victory against the pompous champions to you.

On nights when he has scuffles with his father, or when he’s missing his mother, and words are too much in the moment. He wants nothing more than to relish in your embrace with your kisses there to provide the comfort his parents could not.

He often doesn’t let his inner turmoil bother anyone else, and did not have anyone to confide in until you came along. There’s a lot of things left unsaid, but you will be there for Zagreus to love and support him until he is ready. Even if that day never comes, you’re glad you can a least help to alleviate his troubles for a short amount a time.

If what he needs from you is not words, but doting kisses. Then kisses he shall receive. And when Zagreus is ready to speak with you, you will listen for as long as he needs. Zagreus is so glad to have found you, and would trade anything to be able to be by your side for the rest of eternity.

Hypnos Forehead kisses|Loving

Whenever you get excited to share some news with your lover and rush to go tell him only to find him fast asleep per usual, it’s hard to not let an adoring smile come across your face as you decide to let him rest and that the news can wait, but you can’t just leave after coming all this way to see him. This often results in you giving him a caring kiss on his forehead followed by whispers for him to have sweet dreams.

Unbeknownst to you sometimes those sneaky kisses of your actually wake the sleep incarnate. He does not mind though, in fact its quite the contrary. He is able to discern your footsteps from others, and sometimes he is actually awoken but hearing you approach. Occasionally, he would pretend to be asleep if not for a bit longer in order to gain one of your tender kisses.

He doesn’t do it out of malice of course, it’s simply the thought that even when he supposedly can’t hear your or react to what you have to say, you are still kind and devoted to him.

Yes, he hears the whispers of Zagreus and his brothers. Even his own mother talks about him with distain, but when you are given the option to say or do whatever you want to him without repercussion you choose to be caring and loving.

Perhaps that is why he is so drawn to you, and why he appreciates your kisses in secret. It’s nice to have someone who genuinely loves him for him. Not someone who talks to him so “no one else has too” Nor gives him constant sarcastic and petty remarks when he’s honestly just trying to help.

Another addition of why he loves your kisses so, is they remind him of a sort of motherly love that he did not get from his own. Why when he was younger she was kind to him, yes, but as he grew and her attention divided he noticed that she began to treat him more as if he were a burden on others. Your kisses bring him back to a time when his mother still saw him as her son. It’s a warm, fluffy feeling Hypnos is always chasing more of.

So for now, he will continue to let you believe that only you can hear your words of love and adoration for him as well as your caring gestures of your love, at least until he can return the favor tenfold.

Dionysus Lip kisses|Sloppy

Where Dionysus goes jolly festivities and merriment follow, as well as you of course. And what are these festivities if not without a little bit of wine. It’d be absolutely preposterous after all to attend a feast without an offering you know.

And we all know how Dionysus is with wine. You see, when you attend a feast with Dionysus by the hands of the mortals, or any feast with Dionysus for that matter, he loves to show you off. Constantly gushing about what an amazing partner you are.

And with that showing off can come with a bit of possessiveness. So when Dionysus gets to be clingy, you remind him just how much you love him with some kisses.

Dionysus loves to kiss you as he swears he can get more drunk off of your lips than the wine. He reminds you constantly of how you taste better than the finest ambrosia.

You don’t mind his kisses yourself. Yes it can be messy, with Dionysus being constantly in a state of intoxication, but you can always taste the remnants of the contents of his everlasting goblet against his lips. Making the sweetness of his kisses worth all of the awkward nose bumps and accidental teeth clashes.

All in all if Dionysus were to have to choose between never drinking wine again and you, he’d choose you every time, as you provide all the happiness he could ever need in his lifetime.

Ares Neck kisses|Passionate

When the fires of war are blazing so are the fires of passion.

Yes, Ares loves nothing more than to watch the bloodshed of a raging battlefield with you by his side. He caresses your waist as he presses fiery kisses into your shoulder, trailing them slowly up to your neck.

The clashing of swords satiating his hunger for blood in the most intense way, leading him to sometimes get a bit too rough with you.

There are times when the battle can get to his head and that can cause him to almost lose himself, if only for a short moment. A bite, too hard for your liking. The sting against your neck intensifying the raging action on the war zone below. You gasp and flinch away, causing him to realize what he’d done.

He’d apologize by kissing you much more softer, but finds it hard to restrain himself when he seeing the droplets of blood seeping through the wound from his bite mark against your neck.

He holds back to the best of his abilities as he cleans the wound with his lips. It causes you slight pain, but this time you feel as if it is more tolerable when he is caring for you rather than going feral.

You know he never intends to hurt you, and if push comes to shove he will always try to fix it and take care of you afterwards. All you can do is be there when he needs you, when the hunger becomes too much for him to handle, and he needs someone to pull him back to reality.

He’d be lost without you, a friend, a lover, and a lifeline. He would fight to the ends of the earth for you, and you would do the same. Truly, all is fair in love and war.

[henrioo]

°•*⁀➷ TIMELESS: MONKEY D. LUFFY

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : "Many things are taken away by time, power, money, life... But pure, genuine and true love is always timeless. Surviving every hardship that may come, and Ace and Sabo could see that clearly between you and Luffy.

꒰ WARNINGS ꒱ : angst! Ace death! Male reader! (Can be trans or not), Pre time skip Luffy! Alabasta arc, Dressrosa arc, SPOILERS!, gay relationship, Luffy and reader are clueless, Sabo still depressed about Ace

꒰ WC ꒱ : 2,5k

꒰ NOTES ꒱ : So this was one of stories I had finished a long time and I now I'm posting them. It's not totally angst because nothing bad happens in the Luffy and reader relationship, but still sad. Fem dni or block and enjoy :))

Everyone quickly starts working on the tents before the terrible cold of the desert makes them freeze. You were finishing helping Nami with the girls' tent while trying to ignore Sanji cursing you for stealing his chance and calling you a pervert.

“Thank you (y/n)-kun” Nami said, satisfied with the end result while Vivi was placing the necessary items so that they would have a makeshift bed.

You just nodded and went after the boys to see what they were doing with their tents. Sanji clearly had a stable tent although it was kind of small, you thought about asking but your theories about his perverted goals made you shudder so you just ignored him and went to the other group.

Usopp was busy trying to make a tent himself and he was determined to show that he knew how to set one up, but he didn't. Zoro was lying on a sheet on the sand and using his backpack as a pillow, while Luffy and Chopper seemed to be having fun listening to the stories of the captain's older brother, Ace. “Usopp, do you want help?” You asked, approaching everyone. Since you still had some energy it wouldn't hurt to help others before going to your own tent to sleep, after all you were the first to set up your shelter which consisted more of a roof and pillow cloths and a sheet, you weren't much demanding and thought it fair that the girls had more fabric to work with.

“Hm… no… I… I'm almost there” he said, too focused to look at you, trying hard to make the poles that were supposed to hold the tent upright… obviously without success.

“Zoro?” You decided to leave the shooter alone, either he would make it or he would give up. The experience of success or failure was worth it then it was no longer your business.

“I'm fine, it's not too cold,” he said calmly. You would doubt if a normal human was truly capable of withstanding that cold, but it was Zoro and you knew he didn't think like a normal human, so you just shrugged it off.

You approached the other three boys who seemed very excited even after a long day of travel. Ace was a good guy, he definitely cared about Luffy and he had been very kind to everyone when they found out that you were his beloved little brother's crew. What bothered you was that he looked at you in a kind of strange way, especially when you interacted with Luffy.

It made you a little nervous and paranoid, but it didn't make you treat him any differently.

“Do any of you need help in the tents before I go to sleep?” You offered everyone, as always being very helpful.

“Oh! No! I’ll stay with Usopp!” Chopper declared happily and looked at his companion, but upon seeing the situation in the tent he was a little… well he was definitely something but you still weren't very good at reading emotions in an animal. He just sighed, getting up from Luffy's lap "I better help him" the reindeer said as he went towards his friend.

“I’m fine, fire advantage” Ace smiled and you had to admit he had a good charm. To prove his point he lit his own hand with his flames and you almost felt envious of the natural heat he was able to provide.

“Okay, then I’m going to get some sleep” you said, yawning, already feeling the tiredness finally catching up with you. As you turned to walk away you felt something grab your wrist and turned to see Luffy with a huge upset pout and his stretchy hand reaching out to hold you back.

"And me?" He asked in such a hurt way that he looked like a puppy abandoned in the rain.

“Huh? What about you Luffy?” You asked a bit confused.

“Aren’t you going to ask where I’m going to sleep?” He said it as if it were his duty to do it, a kind of genuine obligation.

“Oh! I thought you were going to sleep with Ace…” you said confused looking at your older brother. Since it had been a while since they had seen each other and Ace produced heat, you figured the two would just sleep together like brothers usually do.

“I don’t want to sleep with Ace!” Luffy grumbled, letting go of you and crossing his arms, he seemed almost offended by his assumption. “He snores!”

"Hey!" Ace said in protest at the small offense.

“Okay… what do you want to do then?” You looked at the boy with amusement, Luffy was always a bit clingy towards you and little by little you learned to give in to all his requests.

"I want to sleep with you!" He declared with a big smile and with so much confidence that it made your cheeks heat up and you looked away in embarrassment.

“Okay…whatever you want captain” you said shyly and practically ran to your tent to avoid hearing whatever Ace might say about that interaction.

Soon you were lying in the sand under your tent and trying to calm your racing heart, why did Luffy have to be so cute?! It only made it worse that he didn't know the effect he had on you... what an unfair life. When you were almost falling asleep you felt his warmth on your back, he wrapped his rubber limbs around you a few times as he held you tight against him, almost as if he wanted to make sure you wouldn't leave. He moved a few times, adjusting himself and then placed his head on your back, starting to sleep soon after. You sighed, deciding to follow his actions as you yawned one last time and also let sleep overcome you.

Outside, Ace watched as his brother practically skipped over to his tent with a knowing smile on his face. He wasn't an idiot, he knew Luffy very well and had good experience with romance, he knew exactly what was going on between the two of you. The way you smiled at Luffy and seemed to always be around him, the way the boy was also clingy to you and always seemed like your validation… who would know that Ace's whiny little brother would grow up enough to fall in love.

“Huh… those two then?” He laughed knowing that Zoro was the only one who was still awake, it wouldn't hurt to know more about his brother's boyfriend, after all it had been a long time since they had seen each other and Ace wanted to know all the news.

"Actually no." Zoro said quickly turning around to face Ace, he still had his eyes closed but was definitely awake.

“Huh? How not? They are literally sleeping together!” The man said, confused.

"Put two idiots together who are incapable of understanding what it's like to be in love and you get these two" Zoro yawned in his seat but he had an amused smile. “They definitely feel something, everyone knows”

“Let me guess, everyone knows except them?” Ace laughed knowingly, that was just like Luffy.

"Bingo... (y/n) is a little smarter, but I think he just doesn't want to accept that he's in love with the captain himself" that was a good theory, you always showed a lot of respect for Luffy's position and maybe you didn't want to mix things up things.

“He… huh, has problems with men?” Ace didn't know exactly how to ask if you weren't out of the closet without seeming rude, wouldn't it be weird if you didn't want to confess because you didn't feel comfortable liking a boy. Although that seemed a bit unlikely with the way you acted around Luffy.

"No, he's always made it clear that men are his type... Luffy isn't exactly the type of person who cares about gender either." Zoro pondered "I think it's just... They maybe don't think it's really love, the way they are they should just think it's a good friendship and that's it"

“No, (y/n) knows she's in love with Luffy” the third voice was Sanji's who was outside his tent smoking. "He just won't confess because he thinks Luffy is like that with everyone."

Ace sighed feeling empathy for you, Luffy could be very dense and his friendly manner probably confused you. But he knew that his brother definitely loved you, loved you in a very romantic way even if maybe he didn't know exactly what that was or how to express it.

“Well, I worry less,” Ace yawned, adjusting his hat to cover his face. “Luffy will eventually understand that he is in love with him, when that happens he will confess and make his love clear… he just needs a little time” the man laughed. He could already imagine the scene, Luffy would probably be a great boyfriend if he was already extremely loving with you now, as an older brother he felt very happy knowing that his little brother was having his first love and that luckily it was still reciprocated. You would work out, you just needed time until your feelings became clear and you could finally accept and accept them.

Sanji had already retired again, leaving Zoro to be the only one awake, he lay on his back facing the starry desert sky. Yes... You two just needed time, everyone could see how much you both loved each other much more than friends and mainly cared about each other. It would definitely be very interesting to see this unfold, he was just glad that both of his friends were in love with good people who would take good care of them.

You stroked Luffy's black hair, he was lying with his head in your lap recovering after the difficult battle against Doflamingo. You were all at Kyros' house so that Law and Luffy could have more time to recover, soon you would leave for Zou and then for Wano, so all the time to recover was essential now.

The straw hat on your head cast a certain shadow on your eyes, you didn't want to fall asleep, too worried to take your eyes off Luffy. But it was obvious that tiredness was also taking its toll on you, after all you also participated in your own battles to help the entire city from collapsing, now all your body and mind wanted was a little rest.

“Hey! Bro, you should get some sleep, you look like a zombie” Franky laughed as he continued the repairs on his body, you laughed weakly believing his words.

“Don’t worry, this one won’t wake up anytime soon” Zoro said, assuring you that you could take some time for your own rest.

“Okay… wake me up in case anything happens” you yawned, leaning better against the wall and finally resting completely, the straw hat fell against your face giving you greater coverage. You couldn't feel it, but Luffy turned a little, laying on his side and using his elastic arms to wrap himself around you, holding you close to him.

“It seems I came to say goodbye at a bad time” Sabo smiled entering the house, he would really love to spend more time with Luffy to recover everything they lost, but the revolutionary army needed him and it was time to go back. "It seems like some things never change, Luffy was always sleeping as a child."

“This one just doesn't sleep more than he eats,” Zoro said, making the other members who were there laugh a little.

"That's good, I'm glad he's still like this..." he smiled nostalgically, a part of him was happy that Luffy had managed to recover after Ace. A guilt still lingered in his chest for not being there, but they would have plenty of time in the future to come together again.

The blonde boy was going to say something else before starting his final farewell, but that was when he stopped to pay a little more attention to his brother and the man who slept with him. Luffy's precious straw hat resided on the man's head while his brother was wrapped around him in the same way he was wrapped around Sabo and Ace as children. No, it wasn't the same way, there was something different. The smile on Luffy's face, the way he was snuggled up to the boy Sabo knew was called (y/n)... Oh, he knew what that was.

“So both?” Zoro's eyes widened in surprise, it seemed that the brothers were much more alike than he imagined. He smiled nostalgically thinking that Luffy's two brothers really care about him a lot, it seemed like a great déjà vu from that same night in Alabasta years ago.

“No, not yet” he laughed looking sideways at the two “But they are already better than before.” That wasn't a lie, now that you and Luffy were reunited you were much more open to his displays of love, probably due to being apart for so long. The only thing “missing” was a label, but it wasn’t like you and Luffy seemed to care about that.

“Ah, I see… Luffy is more dense in these things” Sabo smiled happily, looking at his brother so comfortable.

“I'm happy that it's reciprocated, for both of them... I'm sure they'll work out, they just need a little time.” He was sure of it, it was obvious how much you liked each other, a little time would be enough for the two of you to take on whatever was necessary and nothing else would come between you “Well, I need to go, thanks for looking after my little brother, I promise we’ll see you again soon.” Sabo turned to leave but was stopped when he heard Zoro's voice.

“Huh… Ace said the same thing” Sabo's heart stopped for a second. "Not just about taking care of Luffy... About the two of you, you two were pretty confident that with a little time they would work out..."

Sabo had to hold back his tears, taking a deep breath to keep his control. He said happily without looking back "Then that must be a good sign, big brothers are never wrong." That was the small blessing for his brother's future relationship, he knew it would work out, Luffy could be dense in romantic relationships but Sabo knew that the day he fell in love with someone and was reciprocated he would never let that person go.

Leaving the small house he faced the sunny day feeling the wind on his face, wiping his tears and ruffling his golden curls.

“Hey Ace… It looks like our little brother grew up huh?” he said excitedly looking up, could his brother see him now? “I'm glad you had the chance to see them too... (y/n) is a good guy, I'm sure he'll be good for Luffy” he smiled confidently, after all he had seen how you took care of your brother when he passed out after the battle. “Luffy will also be good for him… Ah… I wish you had the chance to be here to see them finally together” he bit his trembling lip, unable to stop himself from crying “But it's okay, I know you can see us there, so please take good care of them… Our little brother deserves to be happy.”

And inside that house Luffy was still hugging you tightly, you yourself were smiling with your hand in the boy's hair, patting him even though you were sleeping. You might not have admitted your feelings, but that didn't matter, you and Luffy both knew that you loved each other and that you would never let anything happen to each other. And everyone around you, especially those two proud older brothers, knew that nothing would stop you two from enjoying a beautiful romance.

[hustlerose]

by popular demand, i've been giving hades a second chance, so here's my thoughts

god mode made the game fun for me. i would've never beat the final boss without it. i like that it's only a small boost, just 20% to start. it's given me the opportunity to learn a lot about how all the enemies work, and i can tell my skills have genuinely improved

compared to other roguelikes, hades is a LOT less gleefully punitive. for contrast, take brogue, a very traditional roguelike. you can easily play brogue for 1000 hours and die every run. if that's too harsh, you can turn on easy mode anytime, which reduces enemy damage by 80 PERCENT. but the game penalizes and shames for doing this. it calls call you a cheater. there's no middle ground between "weenie hut jr" and "sisyphean hopelessness"

hades doesn't do any of this. i was able to progress the story, master weapons, buy upgrades, and earn achievements, without getting kicked in the dick over it

i got on a long winning streak where i could consistently ascend without using any death defiance. so this last run, i turned god mode off. and for extra spice, i switched to a weapon i've almost never used: the sword. i'd been playing with the zeus shield (another "easy mode" the game provides) but i figured if i could make any progress with this pos weapon, i'd know i had improved

i died in the final phase of the final boss. success! i feel sharper, smarter, more in control than i used to. this is the feeling roguelikes are supposed to provide. "i died, but i feel good cuz i learned something new! i want to try harder, push further!" i rarely get that feeling, and the genre at large has always turned me off. now, i finally get to experience it...

does all that mean the game is objectively great? if you're a hardcore roguelike masochist, maybe not. but for me, it's one of the most accessible games in the genre. it feels like a roguelike made for people like me.

it helps that supergiant is fucking excellent at combat design, but that's a post for another time :)

[ciakina]

A Second Chance

Viktor Hargreeves X Fem!Reader

Viktor reconnects with one of his past lover

A/N: I love Elliot page, and I think it is a CRIME that there isn't more Viktor fics out there. This is in the timeline of season 4 which I WILL rewrite bc idk wtf I watched but it wasn't Tua.

(Y/N will be used but won't be described)

"Viktor has officially ran through every woman in the town" A guy announced in the bar making everyone laugh. "Okay that's enough" Viktor said taking the keys a woman had slammed on the counter. Viktor walked back behind the counter to pick up the ringing phone "What is it Luther-" Luther's words faded as he looked at the entrance to see a woman walking in. The woman walked up to the bar leaning on the counter, watching Viktor put the phone away without saying goodbye.

"Hi Viktor" "Hi Y/N"

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

2 months earlier

"That's absolutely ridiculous V" Y/N laughed watching Viktor make breakfast. "I'm being so serious; we went back in time" Viktor giggled. Y/N took bacon from the pan "Okay so where are your so-called powers" Viktor rolled his eyes "I told you we lost them" "You lost them after coming out of a rich hotel with a killer bodyguard" Y/N busted out laughing realizing how stupid it all sounded. "It's not funny" Viktor wrapped his arms around her waist pulling her closer. "But it kind of is" She placed her hands on his cheeks.

They stayed like that for a moment, just enjoying being in each others arms. "So what else did your powers do" Y/N asked playing with his necklace "It was like energy blasts, vibrations and stuff" Viktor replied. A smirk grew on Y/N's face "Did your hands vibrate too" Viktor looked at her confused then sighed when he realized that she was thinking of "You're so annoying"

"You know you love me" "I do"

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

2 weeks earlier

"I can't do this anymore" Viktor said looking at his feet. "Come on, it's just a burger. You can finish it" Y/N giggled. Viktor looked at the woman in front of him. She was everything Viktor could wish for. She was perfect. Too perfect. It scared him. "I mean i can’t do... This." He gestured toward him and Y/N.

"Are you breaking up wit-" "Yes" Viktor interrupted. "Why? I thought we were okay, no actually. I thought we were great" Y/N stared trying to understand where they went wrong or what she could of done to make Viktor not love her anymore. Viktor had no explanation other than he was scared of falling in love with her. Even though he already has. "It's just.. too complicated. Your parents already don't like me and i have to run the bar, we barely even see each other." Viktor lied looking at his plate. Y/N had made them burgers and cake because of the success of the bar. And for their 5 month anniversary.

Y/N knew he was lying.

"I bring you lunch every day at the bar and I'm always awake when you come back. I even offered to help out. YOU were the one that said no." Tears started to fill her eyes trying to find an answer in Viktor's. He refused to look at her. Like she no longer mattered. "V. I've told you so many times that I don't care what my parents think. Or anyone else. It's my life, I choose what I do, and I can love who I want." Viktor needed to leave. He knew if he had looked at her everything would go wrong. Viktor headed for the door of Y/N apartment stopped when he heard Y/N's final words.

"Viktor, I want to love you... because I do but you- You have to let me love you."

Viktor left leaving Y/N with confusion and tears.

A/N: sooo.. should i delete myself and my page or keep going...🌚 PLEASE tell me what you think i genuinely don't mind advice as long as it's respectful.

[ourmadmusings]

a/n: bc anon asked for a part three, and im super cheesed about it. I wasn’t gonna post it until tomorrow, but what can I say, im a generous god. 

Take me far enough to say we’ve gone - 

Miguel O’Hara was also a nervous man, as it turned out. He was nervous for you, afraid of what the light in his chest had to offer when he saw you return from a successful trail-run. His bluff was called, it seemed, and you passed with flying colors, earning a wide smile from Peter B. as he dropped you off, once again in O’Hara’s main quarters. The heavy glow from all of his screens casts him in an ever-intimidating light, that seems to be his theme with you. Scary.  He’d watched you with rapt attention on your little assignment, not sure why he’d anticipated the worst to happen to you - worst-case was Peter stepped in and bailed you out, but he’d informed Miguel that he hadn’t even needed to give any advice, a silent watcher, only coming down from his perch on a near building to show you how to activate the force-field device and ring in for a transfer.  “Well, looks like you’ve earned a permanent position amongst our ranks, huh?” He’s mumbling a little, he seems a little deflated as he says it. “Isn’t that a good thing?” You’re raising a brow behind your ever-present mask, nary a ding on your suit. He can tell how much confidence the mission had given you, your shoulders not tilting inwards like they had the last few times he’d loomed over you. Your back was straight, and your hands pressed firmly on your hips in the shared stance every spider-person adopts when they know they’ve done well.  “Of course it is, but these missions aren’t always gonna be so easy, kid.” He mirrors you, standing up straight, leaning down slightly to make his point, “there’s gonna be a mission for each of us that we can’t come back from, you know that, right?” It’s almost threatening, the way his red eyes bore into your white eye-covers. He watches your chest deflate a little at the comment, a pang of remorse runs through him for saying it in such a harsh way. Truly, he just wanted you to be aware of the risks here, the sacrifice that you may be called to make one day. Each of them was expected to lay their life down for the greater good, and he wasn’t exempt from that, either. In his mind, he was offering you an out, a second chance to save your own hide if that’s what you really wanted, before taking on such a lofty responsibility. You jump a little when you hear the door slide open behind you, “jeez, Miguel, as pleasant as ever, aren’t’ya?” It’s the Peter that came with you, “Mayday is asleep-” who? “-Why d’ya always try to scare the new kids, don’t you think she’s proved herself enough?” He looks at you with a warm smile, the kind a father would wear as their kid rounded home for the first time, “I think you killed it, kiddo, don’t let him take the wind from yer sails. I was impressed,” you feel your cheeks heat up at his blatant praise and mumble a sweet thank-you, absent-mindedly kicking a pretend pebble as he claps a warm hand on your shoulder. He doesn’t stop, “why don’t you take your mask off and breathe a little, huh? It must feel terrible in there after the long day,” you can tell he’s being genuine when he asks, bending down to stare right into your mask with a slight tilt of the head, but you can’t help the itch on your forehead when the mask isn’t there, especially thinking about having to make direct eye contact with O’Hara.  He cuts in, “she says she’s more comfortable with it on, Peter.”  “Well, that sounds like a lie, she’s probably just terrified of you, chief. Especially when you go around making threats like that on a debrief.” They carry on like you’re not standing right there. “It’s not my fault if I want them to be aware of the risks, Pete.” How informal of him, using a pet-name, you think. “Yeah, well, the least you can do is thank’em for once. Not everything has to be so life and death. It’s no wonder our turnover is so bad, I have to wonder what our unemployment payout looks like.” They’re not stopping, you really consider making a quick escape while the two men, obviously very good friends based on Peter’s razzing, carry on talking over your head.  “I want to think you’re joking but-” “Tax fraud is no joke, ‘El, you know that.”  You’re…Uncomfortable now, he was right, your mask was kind of stifling after working so hard to have a no-loss mission, there’s still sweat dripping down the back of your neck as the two of them chirp on and on, back and forth. The heat from all the monitors has your vision swimming a little and you start to get a light headed trying to keep up, eventually heaving a heavy sigh of your own. A small, shaking hand makes quick work as you tilt your head down, hair messy as you shake your head, finally getting a good breath of fresh air from outside your protection. Both men stop mid-sentence and stare.  Peter is the first to speak up, not missing a beat but teasing as ever, “there she is, as pretty as ever,” he’s smiling-still. “Feels better, right? Don’t worry about it, we all know how to keep a secret kid, you’re safe here, with us.”  O’Hara just lets a heavy breath fall from his nose and turns away from the two of you, “I have work to finish, Peter, can you get some food for the two of you, please? Consider it a celebration, since you’re so keen on rewarding everyone for just doing their damn job.”  Peter mumbles something as he steps behind you, guiding you with hands on your shoulders, pushing you a little from your spot in the middle, “yeah, yeah, come on.” His head snakes around to smile at you again, “not to brag, but the food here is amazing.” 

It’s quiet after you leave and let the door slide shut, Miguel takes a shaky breath in, and out. He couldn’t help the pang of...jealously? Remorse, maybe, that he couldn’t be the one to tell you that you were safe with them, reassure you, tease you the way Peter was so confident in doing. The way your rosy cheeks looked so pretty, like Pete had said, plays over in his head time and time again for much longer than he’s proud of. He wanted you to know you were safe with him. At the end of it all, he wanted to make sure you were safe.  He’d seen you on his monitors for weeks before calling you to help them, walking around your New York in your street clothes. When Jess had caught him staring at you with such a heavy scowl, he’d said he just wanted to make sure you were keeping it above the wire, doing his due diligence to make sure he wasn’t hiring some loose-lipped kid. She only smiled at her feet, seeing right through his little lie. 

He was even more curt with you after you became comfortable enough to venture the halls without your mask, usually late at night when you knew less folks were around, but pluck his eyes from his skull before he admitted to the dull ache his ability to give you comfort enough to be maskless gave. He really did try to be more inviting with you, even briefly considering taking you on a more risky mission with himself and Jess. Of course, the anxiety that bubbled dashed any hope of one-on-one time in the field. He’d ask you about your canon events, trying to find a way to connect with you. However tight-lipped he was, you were moreso. Mumbling a quiet affirmative or negative, then steering the conversation back to work, against his best efforts. He thought it must feel that way with him, sometimes, when folks try to talk with him. He found himself missing your wry jokes, not as jovial as the run-of-the-mill spider, still keeping a shred perspective on your life of sacrifice. He, of course, knew all of your canon events, he could lay them out by dates and times if he wanted, he’d spent more time than he’d ever admit to on his little…Obsession with you.  It worried him, how fond of your company he’d become in the short time you were helping him. He was really trying to connect, honestly, but every time it felt like he was putting his hand on a hot-plate, and every time he was reminded of what his job meant - sacrifice. And God himself couldn’t convince him of the idea of sacrificing you for this chosen life.  He, as a result, decided to pull back. Treat this as a little passing fancy, maybe you just reminded him of being young again, careless, caution to the wind and so on. 

Months trickled by, trying his best to get you to smile at him despite his resolve to let it all go, to hear your laugh at least once was all he needed to get through his day, it seemed. He was embarrassed, in all reality, he was still technically your boss, no matter how informal that seemed in the walls of the citadel.  “-well, at least that’s what I thought, but Hobie said she was quite the up-and-comer.” He tried to listen to you, but the way you licked your lips made his skin tingle, “I may swing by and meet her, he seems super excited.” You’re leaning over his desk while you talk, Miguel had lost the plot, though. “As excited as someone like him can be, y’know.” “Yeah, send out the welcome wagon, no?” He smiles a little, typing away at some code that needed fixing.  “Ha - well, it’s not like you’re one to do it, you’ll scare her off like a wolf would a hare.” You’re staring at the screen when his fingers stop, hovering over the keys like he’d lost his train of thought, “what’s that supposed to mean?” He turned to face you, eyeing you with a heavy scrutiny, as he was wont to do. “No, nothing bad, I guess. You’re just so dramatic sometimes, it’s weird until you get to know ya’.” There’s a chuckle hidden between the words spilling from your mouth, he wonders if you realize how much he loves when you tease him. It makes him feel more human, less isolated.  “I’m just making sure they all kn-”  “-All know the risks involved, yeah, I’ve heard it all before. I think you’re just pretending so no one knows you’re a big softy.” His fingers haven't moved from above the keys. He leans back in his chair, his straight back finally relaxing a little, “and where do you get off thinking you can talk to me like that, kid?” There’s a stark lack of actual annoyance in his voice, a few months ago, you’d think he was actually offended you’d speak to him that way, but the keen look in his red eyes betrays him these days. “I think Peter is starting to rub off on you.” You laugh a little and smack his shoulder, “someone’s gotta keep you in check around here, right? He can’t shoulder all the burden of your grumpy ass!” You’re smiling down at him, having moved at some point to lean closer. He feels the tips of his ears heat up a little.  “Yeah, well, tell anyone and I’ll have to do somethin’ about it, kid.” You’re a little surprised at him, in the best way. He’s got a full smile, just like the one he wore when you told him about the dryer sheet below your mask, your cheeks heat up and you move to hop off the platform, “hey” a finger pokes at his shoulder -  “don’t start writin’ checks there, boss, or I’ll have to ask you to cash’em some day.” You don’t turn around to face him as you continue, “it’s our secret, I guess. For now, at least.” You pull your mask back over your head as you walk out the heavy door.

He groans a little as the door slides shut, leaving him in the soft hum of all of his monitors - he doesn’t finish the line of code before he shoves himself away from his desk and starts the long trek back to his own private room for the night.

a/n: big man said feelings are for dummys. Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Pt. 4-

[mikaela-the-slut-expert]

yayyyy 💕 then can i ask for a scenario in which the reader, who’s a trans guy, volunteering to be the bride in the ghost groom scenario and threatening to stab anyone who says anything about him looking like a girl with platonic feng xin + mu qing and romantic hualian? (or just xie lian, since technically hua cheng is only there for like, .5 seconds lol)

(💥 anon)

Masculine Bride?

HuaLian x ftm(?)reader

IM SO SORRY 😔 I'VE HAD THE WORST FEW MONTHS OF MY LIFE BUT I LIVE I WILL BE COMPLETING REQUESTS AGAIN THANKS FOR NOT GIVING UP ON ME AGAIN GUYS ☺️🖤

____________________________________

☀️Feng Xin didn't want to be in this ridiculous mission at all. He has to deal with Mu Qing in disguise and he has to see Xie Lian who was once his best friend. So it feels a little awkward to him but he gets to see you too! So he's quite happy to see you and Xie Lian again

☀️When he finds out that the plan is to disguise as a bride he immediately says Nuh uh. No way he's doing that, Mu Qing would never live it down.

☀️But when you offer to disguise as the bride, since you do looke somewhat androgynous he's like great!

☀️He doesn't have to do it and he can protect you if you all get in harms way

☀️Honestly he's surprised you volunteered so quickly. Feng Xin knows you'd rather stay in your male form and he knows you don't like appearing feminine much these days. Gods do it all the time so Feng Xin doesn't mind. Have you seen Shi Qingxuan?

☀️So everything was going great, they got you dressed and the one village girl did your makeup so you didn't look like a clown. But then they ran into those annoying men again.

☀️ They were congratulating Xie Lian, Mu Qing, and Feng Xin for finding a pretty bride and even wanted to join up, but they all knew the men just wanted to eat off their success.

☀️So when you laughed and explained you did make a good bride even though you're a man, No one really laughed. The men had genuinely thought you were a woman sooo they try to call your bluff.

☀️You did in fact change forms to look more like a bride but it doesn't feel good to have every single feminine feature to be pointed out. You're used to it so you weren't going to say anything but the group of men freeze and their skin pales when you hear a crack behind you

☀️Feng Xin may or may not have broken a pillar. May or may not have damaged his own temple. . .

☀️it succeeds in shutting the men up because what man is able to just break a God's pillar?!

☀️Feng Xin has to admit he's pretty irritable, but hearing the group of men bully you just pisses him off. He knows he's supposed to be in disguise and not gain your attention but he can't stand by and watch you be passive about it.

☀️ When the men practically evacuate the area you only laugh softly and link arms with him saying, "I found my guard!" You already know it's Feng Xin🙄

🌕Mu Qing was also your best friend and you never really gave him the chance to distance himself from you like he distanced himself from Xie Lian.

🌕Mu Qing has been with you a long time and he knows you're more comfortable identifying as a man. He has no issue with it. It took some time getting used to but he doesn't care as long as you're happy.

🌕so hearing the group of men start pointing you out so blatantly ticks him off. He knows he can't harm mortals but he sure wishes he could.

🌕It's not against the rules to threaten them though, so when he threatened to cut off their hand because it's rude to point isn't against the rules either.

🌕You were surprised honestly, Mu Qing doesn't care about a lot of things and doesn't usually get violent unless it's with Feng Xin.

🌕but you laugh when the group of men run off and you lean on Mu Qing. Saying you're so happy to have your own personal protector

🪷Xie Lian doesn't really fight. It's not that he can't he just doesn't see a point to do so.

🪷but that doesn't mean he'll let people bully you either

🪷 You've stuck with him for awhile so you're used to just taking mean words in stride. Xie Lian has never let them get away with it though.

🪷So it comes as a Surprise to you all when Xie Lian uses rou'ye to tie the group of men up together and he "advised them to go away before something unfortunate happens"

🪷You smiles and kiss his cheek, linking arms with him with a smile.

🪷"You're cute when you're protective"

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Rosemary Kirstein’s “The Steerswoman”

I'm touring my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me TONIGHT (May 4) in VANCOUVER, then onto Tartu, Estonia, and beyond!

For decades, scammy "book doctors" and vanity presses spun a tale about how Big Publishing was too conservative and risk-averse for really really adventurous books, and the only way to get your visionary work published was to pay them to fill your garage with badly printed books that you'd spend the rest of your life trying to get other people to read:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/07/04/self-publishing/

Like all successful grifts, this one worked because it wasn't entirely untrue. No, mainstream publishing isn't filled with corporate gatekeepers who relish the idea of keeping your brilliance from reaching its audience.

But.

But editors sometimes make bad calls. They reject books because of quirks of taste, or fleeting inattentiveness, or personal bias. In a healthy publishing industry – one with dozens of equal-sized presses, all commanding roughly comparable market-share, good books would never slip through the cracks. One publisher's misstep would be another's opportunity.

But after decades of mergers, the population of major publishers has dwindled to a mere Big Five (it was almost four, but the DOJ blocked Penguin Random House's acquisition of Simon & Schuster):

https://www.justice.gov/opa/pr/justice-department-sues-block-penguin-random-house-s-acquisition-rival-publisher-simon

This means that some good books definitely can't find a home in Big Publishing. If you miss with five editors, you can exhaust all your chances with the Big Five.

There's a second tier of great publishers, from data-driven juggernauts like Sourcebooks to boutique presses like Verso and Beacon Press, who publish wonderful books and are very good to their authors (I've published with four of the Big Five and half a dozen of the smaller publishers).

But even with these we-try-harder boutique publishers in the mix, there's a lot of space for amazing books that just don't fit with a "trad" publisher's program. These books are often labors of love by their creators, and that love is reciprocated by their readers. You can have my unbelievably gigantic Little Nemo in Slumberland collection when you pry my cold, dead fingers off of it:

https://memex.craphound.com/2006/09/25/gigantic-little-nemo-book-does-justice-to-the-loveliest-comic-ever/

And don't even think of asking to borrow my copy of Jack Womack's Flying Saucers are Real!:

https://memex.craphound.com/2016/10/03/flying-saucers-are-real-anthology-of-the-lost-saucer-craze/

I will forever cherish my Crad Kilodney chapbooks:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/19/crad-kilodney-was-an-outlier/#intermediation

Then there's last year's surprise smash hit, Shift Happens, a two-volume, 750-page slipcased book recounting the history of the keyboard. I own one. It's fantastic:

https://glennf.medium.com/how-we-crowdfunded-750-000-for-a-giant-book-about-keyboard-history-c30e24c4022e

Then there's the whole world of indie Kindle books pitched at incredibly voracious communities of readers, especially the very long tail of very niche sub-sub-genres radiating off the woefully imprecise category of "paranormal romance." These books are landing at precisely the right spot for their readers, despite some genuinely weird behind-the-scenes feuds between their writers:

https://www.theverge.com/2018/7/16/17566276/cockygate-amazon-kindle-unlimited-algorithm-self-published-romance-novel-cabal

But as Sturgeon's Law has it: "90% of everything is shit." Having read slush – the pile of unsolicited manuscripts sent to publishers – I can tell you that a vast number of books get rejected from trad publishers because they aren't good books. I say this without intending any disparagement towards their authors and the creative impulses that drive them. But a publisher's job isn't merely to be good to writers – it's to serve readers, by introducing them to works they are apt to enjoy.

The vast majority of books that publishers pass on are not books that you will want to read, so it follows that the vast majority of self-published work that is offered on self-serve platforms like Kindle or pitched by hopeful writers at street fairs and book festivals is just not very good.

But sometimes you find someone's independent book and it's brilliant, and you get the double thrill of falling in love with a book and of fishing a glittering needle out of an unimaginably gigantic haystack.

(If you want to read an author who beautifully expresses the wonder of finding an obscure, self-published book that's full of unsuspected brilliance, try Daniel Pinkwater, whose Alan Mendelsohn, The Boy From Mars is eleven kinds of brilliant, but is also a marvelous tale of the wonders of weird used book stores with titles like KLONG! You Are a Pickle!):

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alan_Mendelsohn,_the_Boy_from_Mars

I also write books, and I am, in fact, presently in the midst of a long book-tour for my novel The Bezzle. Last month, I did an event in Cambridge, Mass with Randall "XKCD" Munroe that went great. We had a full house, and even after the venue caught fire (really!), everyone followed us across the street to another building, up five flights of stairs, and into another auditorium where we wrapped up the gig:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ulnlSRbH80Y

Afterwards, our hosts from Harvard Berkman-Klein took us to a campus pizza joint/tiki bar for dinner and drinks, and we had a great chat about a great many things. Naturally, we talked about books we loved, and Randall said, "Hey, have you ever read Rosemary Kirstein's Steerswoman novels?"

(I hadn't.)

"They're incredible. All these different people kept recommending them to me, and they kept telling me that I would love them, but they wouldn't tell me what they were about because there's this huge riddle in them that's super fun to figure out for yourself:"

https://www.rosemarykirstein.com/the-books/

"The books were published in the eighties by Del Ray, and the cover of the first one had a huge spoiler on it. But the author got the rights back and she's self-published it" (WARNING: the following link has a HUGE SPOILER!):

https://www.rosemarykirstein.com/2010/12/the-difference/

"I got it and it was pretty rough-looking, but the book was so good. I can't tell you what it was about, but I think you'll really like it!"

How could I resist a pitch like that? So I ordered a copy:

https://bookshop.org/p/books/the-steerswoman-rosemary-kirstein/7900759

Holy moly is this a good novel! And yeah, there's a super interesting puzzle in it that I won't even hint at, except to say that even the book's genre is a riddle that you'll have enormous great fun solving.

Randall wasn't kidding about the book's package. The type looks to be default Microsoft fonts, the spine is printed slightly off-register, the typesetting has lots of gonks, and it's just got that semi-disposable feel of a print-on-demand title.

Without Randall's recommendation, I never would have even read this book closely enough to notice the glowing cover endorsement from Jo Walton, nor the fact that it was included in Damien Broderick and Paul Di Filippo's "101 Best Science Fiction Novels 1985-2010."

But I finished reading the first volume just a few minutes ago and I instantly ordered the next three in the series (it's planned for seven volumes, and the author says she plans on finishing it – I can't wait).

This book is such an unexpected marvel, a stunner of a novel filled with brilliant world-building, deft characterizations, a hard-driving plot and a bunch of great surprises. The fact that such a remarkable tale comes in such an unremarkable package makes it even more of a treasure, like a geode: unremarkable on the outside, a glittering blaze within.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/04/the-wulf/#underground-fave

[midnightdevotion]

Anyone Else

Requested: Can I get either a Bradshaw!reader or Mitchell!reader x Robert 'Bob' Floyd fic where the reader dated Jake before she ever met Bob, so when she meets the Dagger Squad as Bob's girl, it's the first time she's seen Jake since they broke up? Reader would be engaged or married to Bob and her and Jake would have ended on really bad terms. If this isn't up your alley and/or makes you uncomfortable feel free to ignore this request. Lots of love regardless! 🥰🥰🥰

Pairing: Bob x Bradshaw!Reader, Past jake Seresin x reader

When bob first got called back to top gun you panicked. Not only was your husband called back but so was your brother and the closest thing you ever had to a father. You stressed everyday, hoping they would be safe and sound.

Two and a half weeks later when the mission was successful and bob had thankfully made it home safe and sound, he called you to let you know that the dagger squad was being made permanent and he would be coming home to help you pack up your house and move you both down to San Diego. Nothing sounded better than living near everyone you considered your family. In a whirlwind you two had packed up the house, put it on the market to sell and made an offer on a new house.

It didn't take long to sell your old home thankfully, and you two found a perfect home five minutes from the beach and close to work for bob. It all seemed like everything was falling perfectly into place.

Letting out a dreamy sigh as you look around the open floor plan for the home you just got the keys too, your husband turns to look at you.

"everything okay dear?" you can't help the grin you let shine on your face when you turn to look at your husband's concern.

"Everything is perfect." He gives you a soft smile and kiss on the forehead then continues voicing his thoughts on where you should hang the tv for least amount of glare during the day.

You listen to him rant about where he wants to put the couch and how he wants to hang your wedding photos, giving an occasional hum of agreement.

"oh and also I want you to meet my squad" this causes you to raise an eyebrow. Usually over protective bob keeps you away from the dirtbags in the airforce he's typically assigned to deal with. You didn't question that too much, because you have upfront experience with how most air force men are.

"you do?"

"Yeah- these guys- they're different and I want them to meet the most important person in my life"

"awe, of course I wanna meet them honey and I'm glad you are finally part of a team that aren't just egotistical assholes- though I know how Bradley can be" He laughs at your joke, but he knows how excited you really are at being able to live near everyone. Too often the navy drags people away from the ones they love, so you are both grateful for the chance that it brought you all together.

It's about six days later- after everything is unpacked and settled that you are meeting the rest of the dagger squad. Say what you want but bob is nothing but efficient when unpacking- and bossing maverick and Bradley around for help.

When you arrive at the beach- you are delighted to see Penny and Maverick rekindling their love. However, before you make it over to them Bradley rushes over.

"I have something I need to tell you and I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier but I didn't think you would come and-"

"What is it?" you furrow your brow trying to look over your brothers shoulder. Bob looks just as confused as you do unsure as to what is making rooster so frazzled.

"Jake is here."

This confuses bob even further- because of course Jake is here?

"w-what" It feels like you take a shot of icy hot. both heat and freezing cold rushes through your veins.

"Does someone wanna clue me in?" You swallow and look up at your sweet husband- living proof that the sweet soft genuine love you always wanted does exist and you have it.

"Well- about 5 years ago, Jake and I were engaged..."

---Flashback---

It's late on a Friday night and you and your fiance Jake are laughing at an inside joke you two have. Your heart has never felt so full. You're both ignoring whatever movie you had turned on in the background- enjoying the night together instead.

In fact you remember spending the whole weekend like this- so wrapped up in each other- so in love that nothing else mattered. Laughter echo's the walls in your shared apartment.

That Sunday night- you giggled as he traced each of your features. Adamant that he would be able to memorize every piece of you, mind body and soul.

You just laughed at him and told him you'd be there for him to study every night. You didn't focus on his smile not reaching his eyes, nor the shaky breathe he let out.

You went to bed after a weekend that felt like a dream- a montage in a movie really.

And you woke up to a note on his empty bedside table saying I'm sorry- with his silver ring sitting on top.

-----

Bob knew the story- he knew everything about you and your past. Losing your father, losing your fiance and every other thing your brain would ever think of telling him.

He just didn't know that Jake was the ex fiance.

"I think I need a minute" Is all bob said- rubbing his hands down his face as he turns in the opposite direction for a walk.

"bob wait-" he turns and you can see the worry on his face- all his anxieties displayed right there.

"Honey- It'll be okay I just need a minute to process I promise"

and you understood- of course you did. If roles were reversed you don't know how okay you would be coming face to face with bob having an ex fiance and then it turning out to be someone that you would see everyday.

So you heave a sign and turn back to face rooster. Only he's twenty feet further away then you expected and he's blocking one very frantic Jake Seresin.

"Bradshaw just let me talk to her" You could see Bradley shake his head, but honestly you needed to clear the air. Hell you were married and happy- you've moved on.

"Bradley it's okay" your brother tenses his shoulders. You watch him tell Jake to stay put for one minute and he comes over to you.

"Are you sure? because if you're not sure or not ready to deal with all of this then say the word and we will go home and you can meet everyone another night" You laugh at his over protective big brother tone and shake your head.

"Bradley it was five years ago- I'm happily married I don't need to eat ice cream and cry about the past." you watch his serious face and he nods more than necessary

"Okay okay, but I will be right there and you just holler if you want me to kick his ass, I never got to the first time so" You just shove him away and watch as he does the I'm watching you signal to Jake.

You watch as Jake makes his way over to you, stopping with about three feet between you. The silence stretches for a minute, and he clears his throat.

"I- um Hi"

"hello" and you don't give anything more than that- the way you see it, you were ready to share every part of you for life with him and he threw it away. You don't owe him any more of you. You watch him- seeing the struggle in his green eyes you once knew so well. The ones you had nightmares about after he left. You watch as he heaves a sigh and tugs on his blond strands.

"I- I know words will never explain or show how truly sorry I am for how I treated you back then- for how I.... For how I ended things between us, I just want to say I'm so sorry. Genuinely I am so sorry and everyday I wake up and for a blissful three seconds I forget every stupid mistake I ever made and think I get to roll over and see your face but I never do..." His words shock you a little more than you thought they would. You never expected him to regret when he walked out that night. You figured he was a navy man through and through and navy men alway choose their jets over everything else.

You know that's not fair- that bob would choose you everyday of the week, but you watched it all your life. Jake knew that you watched Maverick choose his jet over ever settling down, you watched Bradley do the same, and then when Jake of all people did it to you- you never thought you would be able to mend that heartbreak.

The Irony of it was not only did you heal, you still chose a navy man who was in jets everyday.

When you first met bob you were smitten- so was he. However when you found out what he did and he watched your face turn sour- he thought he would never have a chance with you. He watched you distance yourself from him and bob was never good with confrontation so when he showed up drunk at your door asking why you suddenly didn't want him after you made him fall in love with you- you spilled everything.

Here the very reason that bob drunkely confessed to being in love with you stands before you and you can't help the heartache that surges through you. Not because your unhappy now- or that you would even change anything.

No the heartache surges through you because Jake looks lost. Like he left himself in your apartment that night and you left him there too when you moved places and moved on.

"Look Jake, did I hate you for a long time for what you did? Yes, but I've moved on, for so long I wanted this day to come- this apology to spill out of your mouth. Thinking someway the words would heal all the hurt you caused, and it doesn't. The hurt still happened, the pain is still a memory for me, but it grows more distant everyday and I'm really grateful. Jake as much as I loved you- I deserve someone that would choose me even when it's hard."

you watch as he swallows hard, nodding his head. You see the exact moment his eyes land on your left hand, the furrow in his brow and he takes in the shining diamond sitting delicately on your left hand. You see the shaky exhale he lets out.

"you found that then?" it's phrased as a question but you know it's more of a statement.

"yes, I found that" he nods and he looks everywhere but you.

"In another life... I would do things differently"

"I know" and you do, you can see his regret all over his face, you can see the heartache in his eyes- the same heartache that stared back at you in the mirror for months on end. You also know he will be okay, that he will heal and move on just like you did. You step closer, and rest your hand on his shoulder.

"things work out Jake, you'll be okay" and with that you step away, and make your way towards the rest of the group.

----

It takes bob a while to join the group again, and it has you worried. You never would've thought bob would be so hurt by this when he knew the story.

So when he joins the group in dog fight football but doesn't greet you know something isn't right. You try and let it going knowing when he is ready you two will talk but as the night progresses and he continues to ignore you, you start to get frustrated.

It's nearing the end of the day- bob just help score the last goal and his team won, the boys lift him up and start chanting his name which makes you grin.

They finally all make their way back over to you and Penny- who has been a great soundboard for how stressful today has been for you.

"That was great honey" you send bob a sweet smile- hoping that playing whatever insane version of football that was helped get his frustrations out.

"thanks." and he turns to talk to Phoenix. Penny shoots you a glance and you just sigh.

When everyone moves inside the bar to keep the party going, you make your rounds in getting to know everyone now that they aren't running around like maniacs.

However, during this bob strategically always seems to be on the opposite end of the bar from you. When it reaches a point that you are socially drained and talked to everyone you move to the bar, and sit by yourself nursing whatever drink penny concocted for you.

You're starting to get tired but whenever you try to get bobs attention he turns his body another direction. It reached a point where you are so frustrated that you call an uber.

"penny I'm gonna head- If bob asks I got an uber home" her eyebrows shoot up in surprise but she agrees to pass on the information, and watches you leave.

---

Now bob might've been mad- not really at you and he knows that. God he knows that, but he's so mad because he didn't realize jake was the Jake and he's mad at himself because he feels so insecure. How could you want someone like bob over someone like Jake.

He's really mad because he's scared. He is so in love with you, but what if you want jake back? What if you want to leave him now because your real love, your first love was never really bob?

What does he do when every time he looks at you, he sees you saying your leaving him, that you're sorry but it was never him and it never will be?

So when he turns around because he has been checking on you every five minutes- he has a timer on his watch so he doesn't do it too often and your gone he panics.

His eyes frantically search the bar- and he hates that when his eyes land on jake standing with coyote he's relieved that you aren't right there.

He searches the bar high and low, and still nothing. He waits, because maybe you just went to the bathroom but when ten minutes have passed and he realizes that is unlikely he anxiously makes his way to penny.

"penny where is she" and penny doesn't even have to look up to know it's bob asking about you.

"she went home"

"home- but- I drove"

"she took and uber" he swallows hard at that. Thinking of every time he saw an article about a woman getting attacked in an uber- You were alone out there with some stranger all because bob couldn't get his shit together.

So he hightails it out of there, and he drives home maybe a little quicker than he should. He gets home and all he sees is the light you left on in the entry way when you left, and he panics even more- where are you?

He rushes to your room, feeling like he is going to vomit up his own heart any second now. He sees the bathroom light on to your shared bathroom and the rush of relief cools his veins like he just got a cold glass of water in the Sahara.

He flings the bathroom door open and sees you jump as you wash your face.

"god bob you scared me" you mutter, trying to rid the soapy bubbles from your face.

"I am so so sorry honey" this causes you to look at him through the mirror.

"for scaring me or ignoring me today." your statement isn't angry, just blunt.

"both... god I'm sorry I was an ass today"

"yeah you were, care to explain?" you watch and he swallows.

"I'm so sorry darling, I was just so gutted with fear when I realized that Jake was your Jake and I realized maybe--- maybe you would want to leave me and take him back and god why wouldn't you he looks way better than me and then i go and treat you like shit on top of it, makes it an easy choice doesn't it and-"

"bob" you cut him off from his rant.

"I do not want to get back with Jake. I married you because I love you, with my whole soul, you make me laugh and you make so so very happy, even my best days with Jake don't compare to how happy I am with you every day." you watch his shoulder sag in relief. You make your way towards him, and pull him in close for a hug.

"I never want to hear you say that you aren't attractive, honey you are the most attractive man I have ever met, physically, emotionally, and in every other way imaginable." you hope he can see all the love you have for him shining in your eyes.

He hugs you back and squeezes like he really thought you might disappear on him and that breaks your heart more than anything else ever could.

"when I said I do honey, it's because I wanted to be with you for the rest of my life, nobody else. I love you more than anything or anyone else in the world and that will never change."

"I love you so much darling, I am so sorry I was stupid.... Please never uber anywhere again though they are so dangerous and I would've given you a ride" and you laugh at his antics because even clouded in his own insecurity and heartache he was worried about your safety.

Maybe that's why it was always meant to be bob, not anyone else. Bob may have bad days just like everyone else but above all else he cares so much it just scares him. You needed someone like bob to care for you after losing so much and he needed someone like you to choose him and soothe his worries away when they get to be too loud.

"it could never be anyone else"

you repeat the words a million times that night, and when you think about it, even the best weekend you ever had with Jake doesn't compare to everyday you have with Bob. It really could never have been anyone else.

Taglist:

@alanadetigy 

@luckyladycreator2 

@multiplefandomsmess 

@tkmarvel-divergentbish

@ohh-to-be-a-frog

@roosterschanelslut

@americaarse

@malindacath

@atarmychick007 

@trikigirl271

@lustfulseonghwa

@smoothdogsgirl

@elenavampire21

@jstarr86

[rock-and-roll-hell]

July 25, 1980

Unmasked Tour

Palladium - New York City, NY

Eric Carr’s live debut with KIϟϟ wearing the first version of his “Fox” makeup. While heavily featuring the 1979 and 1980 studio albums, it is somewhat strange to consider that the set included three covers: “2,000 Man,” originally recorded by the Rolling Stones; “New York Groove,” originally recorded by Hello; and “King of the Night Time World,” originally performed by the Hollywood Stars (though never commercially released). “Is That You?” while not written by the band had also not been commercially released by the writer or other artists. The only United States “Unmasked” era concert and contemporary performance of material from that album. This show marked the live debut of three songs from “Unmasked” including “Is That You?,” “Talk To Me,” and “You’re All That I Want.”The Palladium was the renamed Academy of Music, where KIϟϟ had made their industry debut in December 1973. KIϟϟ spun their appearance at a smaller venue: “It was a night of nostalgia for Ace, Paul and Gene. And a dream come true for Eric Carr. KIϟϟ planned a special performance at the Palladium in New York to introduce Eric to its staunchest home town fans. There was very little publicity. The one-night-only show was mostly a word of mouth affair. Although small for KIϟϟ today, the hall was chosen for sentimental reasons. Most of the fans, as well as the band, were remembering the historic night KIϟϟ played its first important New York performance on that very stage… the show was a resounding success”.

From local press: “KIϟϟ performed at the Palladium on Friday night, which was unusual; the group usually plays venues the size of Madison Square Garden. Slipping popularity may account for the Palladium date to some extent, but KIϟϟ could certainly have filled the theater several nights running and chose not to do so. The show’s primary purpose seems to have been the introduction of Eric Carr, the new drummer, to the band’s hard-core fans. A few diehards yelled for the departed Peter Criss, but not for long. This listener kept trying to remember what Mr. Criss used to sound like, but the effort proved fruitless. Before long, he became accustomed to Mr. Carr, who played a somewhat elaborate drum kit and was sometimes a little floppy but kicked the music along nicely. The band had installed its flashy stage set and resorted to a number of its tried and true visual gimmicks, but with the scale of the event reduced, one tended to focus more on the music. It wasn’t bad. It was heavy-handed, macho to an almost comical degree, rife with bombast and excess, everything one expects heavy metal to be, but the playing was tight – much tighter than the last time the reviewer heard KIϟϟ, at the Garden – and most of the songs weren’t padded with unnecessary solo noodling. Whether KIϟϟ fans will take to Mr. Carr remains to be seen; one would think they’d be satisfied with Gene Simmons’s tongue-wagging and fire-breathing and Ace Frehley’s flaming guitar. In any event, and for what it’s worth, Mr. Carr’s addition to the band seems to have been a positive step, though it isn’t likely to make KIϟϟ’ music ‘genuinely important to life’” (New York Times, 7/27/80).

Another: “Carr proved to be a capable drummer but no Peter Criss. The show wasn’t quite the visual extravaganza I’d anticipated, nor was it the Sodom and Gomorrah meets 'The Night of the Living Dead’ I’d feared. Instead, it seemed like the 'Wizard of Oz’ gone awry” (Aquarian).

From a mainstream review: “It was apparent from the appearance and playing of Carr that KIϟϟ one of the most successful rock acts of all times, was not taking any chances with the music or the formula now that original drummer Peter Criss has departed for a solo career… So it was almost the typical KIϟϟ show. But with the new drummer now more in the background, the focus was more on the front three… And although performing on a smaller stage than usual, the show was basically the same” (Billboard, 8/9/80).

From a regional review: “KIϟϟ concerts are a little like Christmas. The anticipation is half the fun, and everyone was up for this one… KIϟϟ crashed through their 20-song set with the delicacy of a chain gang” (London, CT, The Day, 8/1/80).

[splitster]

answering a bunch of asks on the pom wraith au!! CHECK IT OUT↓↓

AAUUUGGHHH THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! i appreciate the support for the idea and for my art .... 🥺💖 i genuinely wasn't expecting the reception this idea has gotten but i'm so glad y'all enjoy it!! i love pom as a Creecher... and she's gonna make FRIENDS!! I wanna draw more interactions with her and the crew, i think it's really funny and ripe for (silly) drama

i... YEAH let's go with yes. i didn't think this part through. the fact that wraiths can shapeshift is just a little silly meta nod at the fact the MC can look like anything in the games, i didn't think about it any further than that hehe. it does open up the door to silly shapeshifting shenanigans though

YEAH YOU GET IT yonny is the first one to become suspicious of her but until the rest of the crew catches on, they just all think she's odd. a little weird! except for dingo. he's not the brightest he probably he just thinks that rookie is trying to show off!!

actually thinking off the top of my head, collin would probably be a runner up behind yonny in terms of finding her suspicious. it's weird that she can knock out a mission during the day, a night expedition right after, and be ready to hit another mission the next day without any sleep...

WAHHHHHH THANK YOU GHRHGR... while i'm definitely drawing more (and i have more queued up to post), I am actually also writing a drabble in this AU.

the premise is that Yonny discovers what she is, and she has to convince Yonny not to sell her out before time runs out. i wrote it to share in the server, but if y'all have any interest in it i could post that... (disclaimer: i'm not a strong writer. but it's fun!)

GO FOR IT!!! if it inspires you and you want to, have fun with it!! if you (or anyone else reading this) makes any sort of creative work inspired from what i made, please let me know!! i'd love to look!!

oh she absolutely does get exposed...

whether it turns out bad or even worse depends on who finds out, and whether she's become strong enough friends with her fellow rescue corps buddies...

the water wraith would have to stop trying to run her over too long enough for her to say something! although, she'd be incredibly wary of the other wraiths. she's terrified of somehow being exposed, and she doesn't know if they could do something to reveal who she is. she'd rather not chance it, and simply get TF out instead!!

of course!! i always welcome more creativity. if i inspire anyone to get creative i call that a success💖

thank you he is the fruit wraith

[heavenbarnes]

hi!! i’ve never done this before but id like to request a sydney adamu x femreader :) like maybe with the reader being a new sous chef at the bear or old culinary school crush or smth along those lines haha or literally any other ideas u might have!! there’s an unfortunate lack of sydney fics in general so i’ll rly take anything lol. also LOVED the one you wrote recently (im losing it lately) i have been re-reading it over and over again omfg

Already better for knowing you

Sydney Adamu x female reader

Warnings/Contains: swearing, syd is so fucking awkward, carmy is a meddling shithead, mature themes (involving fruit), beginnings of a praise kink, no actual smut (can you believe it?!)

Thank you so much for requesting this, I thoroughly enjoy writing for Syd! Also sorry that I always write her the same way (awkward-lesbian-munch) but I genuinely think that’s how she’d be. Also cannot believe you’ve read my work multiple times! I didn’t know if you wanted this to be smut so I only hinted, but lemme know if you want more. Anyways, hope you like this!

Sydney and Carmy had to have the difficult talk.

With the success of The Bear, how much it had taken off with their hard work, it was time to bite the bullet.

They needed more hands in the kitchen.

Experienced hands, they needed someone that Syd could rely on. She could give an order and that person would follow.

She needed a sous chef.

They put up the ad and, sure enough, they had a number of chefs in for the interview. They were keen, mostly young, hungry for the chance to break out into their first kitchen.

Both Syd and Carm knew you had to start somewhere but they both really needed the experience, the trust, the reliability.

Their last day of interviews rolled through and Sydney couldn’t help the feeling of helplessness creeping in her chest. Last day of interviews and still no closer to a new sous.

Were they being too picky?

As she shuffled her papers of interview questions and old CVs, she watched Carmy scratch the back of his neck as he read over the last applicant’s details.

“Well, she sounds good on paper.”

Syd couldn’t help the snort she let out, elbows on the table and head resting in her hands. “They’ve all sounded good on paper.”

Carmy shrugged his shoulders at that, but nevertheless sat down beside his chef de cuisine still reading over the paper.

“Says she’s worked in a couple restaurants, out of state- she’s only recently moved to Chicago.”

Syd listened to him speak, trying to find herself a little bit more excited at the prospects.

“Graduated from the CIA, experienced with-“

That perked her up a bit, knowing it was a long shot with the number of campus locations and students that came and went from the institute.

But there was still a small chance.

“What’s her name?” She turned to read the paper over Carmy’s shoulder as the sound of the door opening filled the space.

It all happened so quickly.

The door opened.

Carmy said your name.

You appeared before her.

Still as beautiful as the last time she saw you.

As if she could forget that day, for a few reasons. One, it was graduation, obviously she was going to remember it. Two, well, you were there.

If anyone cared enough to ask, she could tell them what you wore. The way your smile shone under the stage lights. The way you smelt as you hugged her and wished her the best.

Sometimes, when things got quiet, she’d play that moment over in her head.

Sydney thought she might’ve been dreaming when she saw you striding across the auditorium right towards her. You smiled, bright smile, hand coming up to give her a quick wave.

She’d even looked over her shoulder, trying to find out who you were even waving at. By the time she looked back towards you, you were smiling harder and giggling a little.

“Yes, that was for you.” You’d teased, making a heat grow on Syd’s cheeks.

“Yeah- yeah, I knew that.”

Your smile turned into a smirk as you nodded knowingly. “Course you did.”

Then you both stood there quietly, Sydney couldn’t really focus when you were dressed like this. Granted, it was just your chefs whites, but she couldn’t deny you wore the hell out of them.

You’d been wearing them nearly every day, and it still took her breath away every time she saw you. She didn’t even notice you were speaking until you shifted to get into her eye line.

“Sorry- what was that?”

“I said I’ll miss seeing you in the kitchen.”

Syd nodded, earnestly, face softening as she spoke. “I don’t think I’ll enjoy cooking as much without you there.”

She’d surprised herself with her confidence, actually being able to say it. She was pleased to see your smile growing. There was also a glint in your eye that she couldn’t place.

Her chest tightened up as you stepped forward, hands reaching out to pull her into a hug. She melted into you, taking a deep breath to remind herself of your sweet scent.

“Soon as you make it big,” You spoke knowingly, like it was inevitable. “I’ll come find you.”

And here you were now, standing before her in her own restaurant.

You’d found her.

Her mouth fell open as she tried to find the words she’d wanted to say to you all this time. How are you? I’ve missed you? I’ve thought about you every day since the last time I saw you?

Instead, she just stayed silent. She closed her mouth, blinking up at you with those beautiful eyes of hers.

“Syd,” Her name sounded at home in your mouth. “How long has it been?”

“Three years, eight m-months.” She’d only realised how quickly she’d answered when she saw your eyebrows raise.

Carmy shifted beside her, too. It snapped her back into reality, the reality where you were standing right before her and she was acting like a fucking dickhead.

“Well, here’s hoping I’m right on time.” You didn’t look put off, you assumed that same smirk you’d given her all those three years, eight months ago.

You were, you were always right on time. Always in the right place. Always just right.

Syd managed to pull herself together enough to stand up (for whatever reason) and gesture to the seat before her and Carmy. You graciously accepted, sitting down and placing your hands on the table.

Her eyes were immediately drawn to them, the way your fingers intertwined together, the lines coming off your palms. Sydney remembered back to the institute, the distractions she’d face watching you handle a knife or split a citrus fruit.

She couldn’t think of the latter right now.

The way your fingers would pierce the skin, pulling it apart with juices spraying up your wrists. You’d scoop out the flesh with your bare hands, not caring for the way it’d leave you sticky and dripping.

You’d look up at her, finding her watching you and not minding the way she stared. The fateful day you threw the rest of the grapefruit into the scraps, bringing two fingers to your lips to lick the excess off before you washed your hands.

Sydney was completely and utterly-

“Obsessed,” Your voice brought her back into the room, only for the second or third time in the short span of time. “Obsessed with what you’ve done with this place.”

She saw Carmy smile out the corner of her eye, his cheeks blushed a little at your words. You had that effect on most people. Sydney knew better than anyone what you could do to a person with just a few words.

“Well, we’re quite impressed with your CV,” He responded, laying it out on the table. “Aren’t we, Syd?”

By the time she looked away from him, she found you were already staring at her expectantly. She nodded, mumbling an affirmative sound to the both of them.

“Really impressed, seems like you’ve done a great job since graduation.”

You lit up, that’s the only way Sydney could describe it. It was as if your heart was swelling in your chest as your cheeks rose.

“Thank you, that means a lot,” She had assumed you were referring to the both of them until you finished. “Coming from you, Syd.”

If this was how she was at the interview, lord help her in the kitchen. There was no doubt you were getting the job, that was an absolute given. But Sydney would have to think hard about how it’d work practically.

Her sous chef. Following her every move. Responding to her every word. Reliable, obedient, willing, responsive.

Syd had seen you in action at the institute, but never following her own orders. She didn’t know if she’d be able to cope with hearing your “yes, chef” and knowing it was directed at her.

Even the way you were looking at her now, so expectant, hanging on to everything she was saying. She knew that look in your eye, on your face, you’d given yourself away just a little earlier.

“Coming from you, Syd.”

Praise. You were looking for her praise.

The thought sent Sydney into overdrive, forcing her to stand up abruptly and knock her knees into the table as she did.

Both you and Carmy looked up at her in confusion, your mouth opening to ask if everything was alright.

Syd cut you off, babbling as she walked away from the table. “I just remembered- remembered that the stove is on and- that’s the number one cause of kitchen fires- and I will be right back!”

She kept talking as she eventually made her way into the kitchen, hiding in the space right next to the oven (that hadn’t been on all morning).

Sydney knew she was fucked. Royally, totally, well and truly fucked. The crush she’d had on you at the institute had been debilitating and, whilst she’d missed you, these three years and eight months had meant she was finally able to focus.

Now here you were, in her kitchen and looking like everything she’d ever wanted.

Syd had no idea how long she stayed hiding in the kitchen but sooner or later Carmy came through with a stupid smile on his face, leaning against the bench.

“Think you handled that really well.”

“Shut the fuck up, I’m begging you.”

He laughed, laying the brown folder he’d been carrying down beside him as he crossed his arms. She looked up at him, wincing a little as she already knew what was coming.

“You gave her the job, didn’t you?”

Carmy laughed louder, looking down at the heap of Sydney on the floor. She could kick his shins right now.

“Of course I did,” He responded, pushing up from the bench as he turned to leave. “Have fun training your new sous chef.”

Fucked. Completely fucked.

[604to647]

Mi Galleta (Part 2 - White Chocolate Macadamia)

7.5K / Modern AU Grumpy Bouncer!Pero Tovar x Sunshine-Rich Girl!reader

Summary: Pero helps you out with a sticky situation at the restaurant and you get to know him better.

Warnings: 18+ Content (MDNI please), very minor angst, unwanted physical touching (not from Pero), petnames (Cookie, baby, princesa, etc.), kissing, oral (f receiving), unprotected PiV (discussed), cum eating, reader can wear Pero's jacket and it's long on her, Biker!Pero comes with his own warning.

A/N: I don't know anything about bikes! (Also does anyone have any non-dark biker romance book recs?) Series Masterlist

Pero doesn’t call.  Or text.  Not that night.  Or over the weekend.  By the time the work week rolls around, you make a vow to yourself that you won’t go to visit him during the day unless he does, and consequently you don’t go at all.

Feeling a little hurt, you wonder if maybe you made a bit too much out of what you thought was mutual flirtation.  It was his job, after all, to make it hard to gain access to the restaurant; perhaps he thought that your time together and all your efforts with the cookies and lunches were just a means to an end, and that once you were successful, desire on either of your parts to interact should cease.  That thought makes you even sadder; even though you were trying to find a way upstairs, your daily meet ups with Pero had become more - you had liked him.  He was gruff for sure, but you had enjoyed getting to know him and the discovery that he seemed to be softer than he appeared.  You had thought he enjoyed getting to know you as well.

“I’m sorry he didn’t call, babe,” Dorothy laments, giving you a big hug.

“It’s okay,” you pout, crushed, “…maybe I read too much into it.”

“You’re always so sweet, giving people the benefit of the doubt,” says Eloise, “He really ought to have messaged.”

“Do you think… you would be up for going to Lin?  To eat and drink, I mean,” Dorothy asks, sheepishly.

“Dorothy!!” exclaims Eloise, “We agreed not to-”

“Not to what?” you ask, curious.

The two women look at each other; Eloise looking exasperated and Dorothy trying to look innocent. “Okay, out with it,” you grin.

“So… you know how my friends from college are coming in from out of town this weekend?  I thought… it might be nice to take them to Lin!  It’s this super hot restaurant, still so exclusive, and the food was soooo good last week!  We all loved it!  And they have that extended cocktails list we said we wanted to try, remember?  I feel like it would be such a perfect place to take them!” Dorothy finishes in a hurry.

“You’re right,” you say softly.  You would have given Pero a similar rave review if you had had a chance, “They would love it.  You should totally take them there.”

“The thing is…” Dorothy chews her lower lip, which is generally a sign that she knows she’s about to ask something completely unreasonable, “… we still don’t know how to get it.  Just because we got in once, does that mean we automatically get in again?  Regardless… our chances of getting in or even just finding out how to are probably better if… you’re there?” 

Eloise shoots Dorothy a death glare.

“…but if you rather not see the bouncer guy… it’s totally okay,” Dorothy adds on quickly.

You sigh, but it’s not one of exasperation but of indulgence.  You know if you refuse, the girls would truly let it go, never holding it against you.  But… it’s also such a simple thing for you to do, you can’t really find it within yourself not to acquiesce.  You’ve always been this way: not a people pleaser per say (it’s not in your nature to do anything that truly makes you uncomfortable or against your character), but genuinely happy to extend yourself for others.  If you were to really analyze things, it’s probably that deep down you feel that with the advantages you’ve been afforded, your true grievances in life are little to none; the little things that may be troublesome to you are nothing compared to life’s real misfortunes that you’ve been lucky enough to have avoided.  Why not help if you can, your grateful heart always asks.

And, it’s not like you have to see Pero for more than a minute or two. 

“Ok, we can go,” you smile.  The way Dorothy’s face breaks into an expression of pure joy confirms for you that you’re doing a good thing.  Eloise is a little more cautious; she triple-checks with you later that you’re sure, and you reassure her that you really, truly are.

Pero recognizes Dorothy right away when she strides into the building lobby.  She’s heading up a good-sized group, maybe seven or eight people, and he’s hoping that you’re among the crowd.  As the rest of the party starts to file into the elevator bank, his heart leaps when he sees you bringing up the rear. 

You make brief eye contact with Pero as you pass his desk; the look in your eyes unreadable, but he thinks they’re missing a brightness he’s used to.  Pero wants to talk to you, ask you how you’ve been.  Tell you it’s only been a week but he’s missed you.  Apologize for not calling.  But then he sees Paul’s hand on the small of your back, guiding you after the group.  As he follows, he can’t take his eyes off the sway of your hips and the way this guy is touching you with such familiarity.  Who is this guy, anyways?  Is he your date?  Your boyfriend?

Seething, he reaches in the elevator to swipe the fob and press the button to the restaurant floor, keeping eye contact with you as he wordlessly steps back out into the hall.  You can’t look away from Pero either; you’re not sure if this is the scowl he normally wears to maintain his bouncer authority or if he’s genuinely displeased.

“Man, I’d love a mindless, easy job.  Thanks, pal,” chirps Paul.

You nearly snap your neck turning your head so quickly, unbelieving of Dorothy’s old classmate’s rudeness.  It seems that everyone but Paul takes notice of your horrified expression; you turn to face Pero again, hopefully conveying an apologetic look as the elevator doors close.

---

Pero decides he’s done for the evening.  He calls in someone to cover the rest of his shift and goes upstairs to clock out.  He saw via the computer that you and your friends have been seated in a private room, and he’s sure that you’re in for a fun night of cocktails and good food, maybe even some dancing – he’s not in the mood to see you come downstairs after a night a reverie with that smarmy guy hanging all over you.  Who the hell was that asshole?

Getting his backpack, Pero exchanges his suit jacket for a motorcycle jacket before going by the kitchens to say goodnight to the kitchen and wait staff.  That’s when he spots you.  You’ve tucked yourself against the wall at the very end of the kitchen serving window where the overhang of the counter creates a little nook you’re sinking into.  Pero watches you play on your phone, periodically looking up and scanning the hallway that leads back to the dining room, and that’s when he realizes you’re hiding here.  He can’t think of anything down this way for restaurant goers: there are no patron washrooms, and you don’t appear to be in need of any assistance – there are plenty of staff coming and going but you haven’t made any movement to flag anyone down for help.

Pero takes a moment to admire how beautiful you look tonight; maybe even prettier than he remembers.  Despite not knowing where the two of you stand, he doesn’t think he can pass up this opportunity to speak to you; and although he’s finding your somewhat squirrely behaviour to be adorable, he tells himself that it’s his gentlemanly duty to make sure you’re okay.  Never mind that the dress you’re wearing is doing wonders for your curves, and absolutely nothing for his self control. 

“How come you’re hiding by the kitchen?”

Surprised by Pero’s sudden appearance, you answer a little bit haughtier than you intend, “I’m not hiding!”

“You are!” He can’t help but be playful with you, “Why else would you be tucked away down this-” Pero cuts himself off; he’s just noticed that you’re fidgeting with the hemline of your dress, and not just tugging it down, but wrapping your fingers around a large piece of torn fabric, “How did your dress get ripped?”

You look up at him, eyes wide; you didn't realize it was that noticeable.

“Who did that, Cookie?” Pero’s voice is tight, barely masking his anger, but his eyes are soft, full of concern, “Are you okay?”

Suddenly you don’t care that he didn’t call - Pero’s here now and he looks like he’s about to kill someone for you; maybe that’s why you drop the hem of your dress and reach for him.  When your hand connects with his chest, it feels so solid and comforting; your body automatically follows, wrapping your arms around his waist and laying your head against his chest.  Though caught off guard by your actions, Pero instinctively takes you into his arms, pulling you in close; he brings his lips to your hair and rubs your back soothingly.

“What happened, Cookie?” he asks again when you pull away to look at him with your beautiful, shining eyes, “Who do I have to hurt?”

“Don’t hurt anyone, please.  It’s not worth it,” you lay your head back on Pero’s chest.

“Will you tell me what happened?”

You nod, but you seem tired.

“There’s a little terrace where some of us go to take breaks, you want to talk there?” Pero offers.  A quiet spot sounds lovely to you.

Pero keeps his arms encircled protectively around you as he guides you past the kitchens, through what looks like the staff locker room and lounge and onto an adjoining terrace, “No one will bother you here, Cookie.  I promise.”  You sigh comfortably as you take a seat on the patio seating; Pero takes the suit jacket he was wearing earlier out from his backpack and drapes it over your shoulders.

You smile at him gratefully, his presence alone relaxing you.  Pero waits for you to tell him what happened; he doesn’t press or push, just sits across from you and holds your small hands in his.

Taking in a deep breath of fresh air, you feel finally comfortable enough to fill Pero in, “The group I’m with tonight, most of them are Dorothy’s friends from college.  They’re fun and nice enough, but there’s this one guy that’s always been a bit handsy.”

Pero’s eyes darken as you continue, “Dorothy, Eloise and I call it ‘octopus hands’.  Just always touching and trying to grab.  Suckers for hands practically. He’s been like this every time we get together with that group, which thankfully is not very often.  Anyways, I had had enough of having to dodge him, so I pushed him away… he grabbed onto my dress and it ripped.  It was an accident.”  You shrug, as if describing the actions of a petulant child.

“And you were hiding from him because you think he might try something?  Get aggressive?”  If he were an animal, you would definitely describe Pero’s hackles as being up. 

You chuckle, “No, I told you I’m not hiding!  I’m avoiding the room.  It’s totally different.”

“Is that so?” smiles Pero.

“I’m trying to avoid the room because I don’t want to try to act like I’m not pissed.  Pretend like things are cool, because that feels annoying to do and I probably won’t be able to do a very good job at it if I’m being honest.  And then there would be a scene,” you say, making a face.

“You don’t think Dorothy will take your side?”

You wave off this concern, “Oh no, I’m not worried about that.  She’s got my back.  And I’ll definitely tell her about it, but I don’t think it’s the right time right now: in front of other people that are friends with Paul, and where everyone has been drinking.  I’d rather not put myself or Dorothy in that position.”

Pero admires the care you’re showing for your friends; if you appeared more upset or avoidant of what had happened, he might gently push you to ignore their feelings and give yourself more consideration.  As it is, you seem fairly in control of your feelings and the situation, so he doesn’t push.

“So, I was just waiting by the kitchens and thought I would go back in with our food when it was ready.  That way I would have something to focus on… instead of punching him in the face,” you finish.

“I’d like to have seen that,” grins Pero, “Is this the same guy who was touching you in the elevator?  The one who wanted an ‘easy job’?”

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry about that, Pero.  That was so unbelievably offensive, I was ready to sock him then.  Yeah, that’s Paul.  I’m sorry,” you look pained at the memory of Paul’s rudeness.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for, Cookie.  Glad to know that’s not the kind of guy you go for.”

“Nope,” you scrunch you nose up good-naturedly, “I only go for guys who take my number but don’t ever text or call.”

“Oh princesa, I’m so sorry.  I wanted to text, I really tried… I can’t find your number in my phone,” Pero looks down, embarrassed.

“What do you mean?”

Pero unlocks his phone and holds it out opened to the Contacts app, “I looked under your name, then I tried ‘Cookie’, then I just started looking for different cookies: Chocolate Chip, Sugar, Ginger Molasses… I couldn’t find you.”

You take the phone from him and look at him dubiously but ultimately decide that he’s being sincere, “I put it under the cookie emoji.”

“The emoji? Where is it?” Pero really couldn’t look more confused.

Scrolling to the bottom of his contacts list, you show him it’s under ‘#’ and you when you pull it up, the top of the screen displays the silly selfie you took as the contact photo.

“Oh, Cookie… I feel so dumb.  I’m sorry,” Pero looks so much like a dog that’s been scolded that you soften and forgive him immediately. “I should have just texted you right away when you gave it to me,” he types out a quick message and sends it with a whoosh. 

When the notification comes in, you look down at your phone:  I’m sorry.  Forgive me, Cookie? :(

You laugh so hard.  Who would have thought that the scary bouncer with the menacing scar over his eye could be so adorable.  And sweet.  And protective.  And hot.  Your body moves with a mind of its own; to answer his question, you close the space between the two of you and kiss him.

Pero doesn’t know how it’s possible, but your lips are sweeter than your cookies.  He kisses you back softly at first, a gentle introduction of your mouths as he becomes increasingly familiar with the plush feel of your lips, the curve of your soft smile.  When your mouth relaxes into a sigh, followed by an oh, he presses deeper, tongue seeking an invitation; as you open up for him, he pulls you closer and lets his tongue do the talking, saying all the words that he wasn’t able to this past week.  Your hands wrap around his neck and thread through Pero’s hair as you let out a soft hum of contentment; Pero smiles at the sound and strokes your tongue with his a few more times before pulling off your lips, chasing after them with a couple of light pecks.  Opening your eyes, you answer with a flutter of soft kisses to the corner of his upturned mouth before snuggling in under his jaw, “You’re forgiven.”

“Do you want to get out of here, princesa?”

You begin to nod but then stop yourself, “Oh, I would love to, Pero, but… I already ordered and I wouldn’t want that food to go to waste.  Also, do you think I could just pay for it separate so I don’t stick the others with the bill?  Still… it would be a waste.  I hate food waste.  Plus, I can’t just ghost Dorothy and Eloise… I have to at least say good bye…”

“What did you order?” Pero asks, simply.

“The Chilean sea bass.  Oooh noooo… just thinking about it is making my mouth water.  Ok, I’ll admit it, I don’t want to leave because I want to eat it so badly,” you joke.

“Will you let me take care of it, Cookie?”  You nod even though you don’t know what he means to do.

“I’ll be 5-10 minutes, you can stay out here or in the lounge if you want.  No need to hide by the kitchen.”

“I wasn’t hiding,” you smile as Pero bends down to kiss you lightly.

“Fine, you can avoid in here if you want.  I’ll be back soon, hermosa,” and he leaves before you can ask about this new nickname that he’s added to the ever-growing roster.

When Pero is gone, you check your phone and see a few messages from the girls:

Where did you go?

Are you okay?

Was Paul being weird?

You type back a quick response: I’m fine!  Yes, he was being a weirdo!  But Pero found me, so…

A string of exclamation points and celebratory gif responses come in in quick succession.  You’re giggling and typing out responses as fast as you can when Pero returns with a heavy paper bag in his hand, “It’s all taken care of, princesa.”

You peek in the bag while Pero puts on his backpack, “I didn’t order all that.”

“I have to eat too, you know,” Pero pretends to scowl at you before kissing you quickly, “plus there’s a few appies and a dessert thrown in there, too.”

“Can… I pay?” It looks like a full feast.

“Don’t worry about it, Cookie.  Staff perk.” 

Not sure you believe him, you look at Pero skeptically, but he cups your face with his hands and strokes your cheek gently before giving you a deep kiss that leaves you dizzy, so you decide to just go with it.

“Ready to go say goodbye to your friends?”  Nodding, you take Pero’s outstretched hand; he gives your hand a reassuring squeeze before leading you back to the dining room your friends are in. 

When you walk through the door, Pero drops your hand in favour of curling his palm around your waist protectively and walking a step behind you like a watchful guard dog.  You can only imagine the glower on his face as the room quiets and everyone stares at you; you would roll your eyes and laugh if not for the fact that you see Paul get up from his seat, only to sit down immediately with one glare from Pero. 

“I’m going to go, babes,” you say apologetically when Dorothy and Eloise come to give you hugs.  They both give you big smiles and so many kisses, never begrudging you for leaving – their only request that you promise to text when you make it home.  Blowing them kisses and waving to everyone, even Paul, you breeze out of the room tucked under Pero’s arm with his lips pressed to your hair. 

In the elevator on the way down, Pero helps you button up his jacket that you still have draped over your shoulders before pulling you in by his collar for another searing kiss that lasts the entire way to the ground floor; still light headed from his affection, it takes you a moment to register that he’s walking you towards to a sports bike parked just outside the doors.  Pero is pulling a black bike helmet out of his backpack when you stutter, “We’re going on that?”

“You ever been on a bike before, Cookie?” Pero smirks.

You shake your head, shyly, “Just scooters and stuff… never… a crotch rocket.”

Pero laughs uproariously, “I’ll take good care of you, I promise.”  And you believe him.

Taking a walk around the bike, you can’t help but admire its sleek design as you run your fingers over the letters on the front frame.  Even though the engine is off, you can feel the bike’s power emanating off the metal; you don’t know anything about bikes, but you can appreciate a well-designed machine when you see one.  You can tell that a lot of care and time has been poured into this vehicle - loving upkeep and carefully selected mods (even though you have no idea what those would be); this motorcycle is clearly a labour of love and you’re starting to feel excited about getting to take a ride on it.  Pero watches you as you take in his bike, appreciating the way your gentle fingers skim over the frame, the handlebars, and then the seat of his Ducati; he spies the glint in your eyes go from trepidation, to awe, to excitement and suddenly he can’t wait to take you out on the open road.

“How do I get on?” 

Pero points to the little foot peg over the back wheel and holds out his arm to help you up.  You’re incredibly grateful for the extra coverage from the length of Pero’s jacket as you grab a hold of Pero’s steady forearm, hike up your left leg to step on the foot peg and swing yourself over the backseat as you would a horse.  Planting your foot firmly on the peg on the other side of the bike, you immediately close your legs; you’re almost thankful for the rip in your dress since it provides you with a little more give to spread you legs over the smooth back seat slant without flashing everyone on the street.  As it is, your dress is hiked up near the top of your thighs and you’re depending on the flaps of Pero’s jacket for some semblance of modesty.  Pero is kneeling next to the bike putting the food in his backpack when he sees you drop your foot from the peg and let your bare leg dangle down, lightly swinging it without your heels ever touching the ground.  He doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything sexier in his whole life.  You’re using both your hands to hold your dress to the seat, leaning forward following the natural decline of the seat and smiling broadly at him, “Where are we going?”

Straightening up, Pero grins, “I can take you anywhere you like, princesa.  If you want to go home and have dinner by yourself, I’ll take you.  But if you’re up for it, we can go to a nice terrace with a view and have ourselves a little picnic?”

You nod at that option and bite your lip a little at how cute Pero looks as he puts on his backpack so it sits on his front like a baby carrier.  Then he does something a little unexpected: he reaches out with his helmet in both hands and holds it over your head, “Cookie, I only have one helmet, so this will have to do, okay?”  When you nod, Pero slowly lowers the helmet over your head then pops open the visor so you can still see him as he adjusts the strap under your chin.  It’s not bad but there’s definitely a little room for your head to wobble around; the inside of the helmet smells vaguely like Pero’s cologne and you feel a warmth spread through you as breath his scent in – when Pero leans back to inspect his handiwork, you give a little giggle and wobble you head around, “I’m a bobblehead.”

Pero laughs and reaches in through the visor opening to pinch your nose, “Ok, when we’re riding, keep your legs on the pegs and hold on to me tight, okay?  If anything’s wrong, tap my arm, and if you want me to slow down, tap my leg.  Ready?”

You give him a big smile that you’re not sure he can see and an enthusiastic thumbs up; before Pero flips down the helmet visor, he definitely sees your bright eyes shining with excitement.  Even though he knows you’re perfectly capable, he makes a show of helping raise your leg up and placing your foot back on the foot peg.  One of his strong hands holds onto your ankle while the other gently runs up your calf and brushes your knee, sending a shiver down your spine.  When Pero repeats the action with your other leg, you let him have complete control to handle and position you any way he wants and he feels his crotch start with how good it feels to have you soft and pliant in his hands.  Once satisfied with your positioning, Pero skates his hand up your thigh, skirting your raised hemline, and when he gives you a light squeeze to let you know he’s done, you inhale sharply and clench down on nothing. 

After Pero swings his leg over the frame of the bike and puts on his gloves, he waits for you to wrap your arms securely around his middle before starting the ignition.  As the bike roars to life, you give a little squeal of delight that Pero can hear even through the helmet and he smiles to himself.  Revving the engine a few times for effect, he takes off carefully but still feels you grip him tighter as you’re jerked back slightly; he can’t say he’s sorry.  Picking up speed as he weaves through the streets, he feels you rest your helmet on his upper back and his chest swells at how easily you’re taking to riding.

After about 15 minutes, Pero pulls up to another office building and cuts the engine.  Helping you take off the helmet, he finds you giddy with a big smile on your face; as you smooth down your hair, you exclaim, “That was so much fun!!”  The ride had been thrilling; you know Pero wasn’t going that fast for your sake, but you found the rush of the wind blowing past you and the freedom and danger of being so open on the road to be exhilarating all on its own.  The hum of the engine had been an unexpected comfort and the vibrations of motor reverberating through you had kept you alert and excited throughout your short journey.  Not to mention that being so close to Pero and his warmth, sinking in to the feeling of security he provides, has you turned on and tingling.  Finding your enthusiasm infectious, Pero helps you off the bike and leads you up to the building to which he gains access with a swipe of a fob he produces from his jacket pocket.

“You have one of those fobs for every building in the city?” you tease.

Pero puts his finger to his lips, “Restaurant industry secret, shhhhh,” he says with a twinkle in his eye.

A short elevator ride later, Pero brings you to an empty terrace with a beautiful view of the city lights; you gaze around in awe as he starts laying out the food.

It’s a wonderfully romantic dinner.  The conversation flows easily, and you learn a little more about your grouchy bouncer.  You’re only initially surprised to learn that William, the restaurant manager and sometimes host, is Pero’s best friend, and that the two of them have worked together for years at various different restaurants.  Remembering William’s easy smile and friendly demeanor from when he sat your party both of the times you’ve dined at Lin, you giggle at the obvious dichotomy between the two friends.  If only potential restaurant patrons knew that big golden retriever energy awaited them at the end of the elevator ride should they make it past the scary Cerebus downstairs.  When Pero asks you what you’re laughing at, you simply ask him if he and William have always worked their current roles; apparently not - they both started out as bus boys and worked their way through the kitchen, though Pero’s never had the inclination to work front of house the way William has.  “You don’t say,” you jest, to which Pero gives you his most fearsome glare.  You’re not the least bit intimidated, especially when he follows up with the gentlest forehead kiss.

Between bites of the mouthwatering sea bass, you’re happy to discover that in addition to a common love of food, you and Pero have also both travelled extensively; to your mutual delight, you realize that somehow, you’ve eaten at some of the same restaurants in Europe and Asia.  When you both claim to know the best udon shop in Toyko, you agree to say the name at the same time - doubling over in laughter when you both name the same hole-in-the-wall in Shinjuku.  Throughout the easy flowing conversation, Pero finds ways to stay close and you welcome his every touch: a caress of your hair near the ear, a stroke of your knee under the table, a kiss to your hand.  With the sun now fully set and the chilly evening air giving you goosebumps, Pero pulls you close to his side - tucking your bare legs in between his to keep you warm as you finish dessert.  Pero looks into your eyes with longing as you both savour the last bites of the rich lychee flavoured flan.  When he helps wipe away an errant sugar smudge near the corner of your mouth with his thumb, he brings his face so close to yours that you’re caught short of breath.  He really is so handsome, you think before his mouth descends on yours and you get lost in the way he licks and softly groans into you.  Your tongue chases his as you open for him, and you gasp when Pero, palm under your ass, pulls you into his lap fully one handedly. 

Wrapping you arms around Pero’s neck to run your hands through his hair, you moan as his hands roam your back, pulling you closer against him still.  The kissing is downright urgent: a mirage of open mouths, panting, devouring.  Needing air, and a break if you’re honest with how close you are to just sinking down on him on this terrace, you bite down on Pero’s lower lip and nibble a little before murmuring, “Pero, please take me home.”

Pero’s eyes never leave you the entire time the two of you pack away the containers and make your way back to his bike, his look dark and wanting.  If he takes his time helping you on the bike, letting his hands trail up and down your legs, eyes lingering on yours before he flips down the visor, who can blame him.  If you press yourself tight against his back while he weaves through the streets, inching your hands lower and lower on his torso, seeking out his upper thigh for purchase when he accelerates, who can blame you.

By the time Pero parks in front of your building, the thrill of the ride and the hum of the bike between your legs has only amplified your want; you’re positively dripping for him.  You can barely keep your hands to yourself on the elevator ride up and Pero is on top of you the moment your front door closes.  Your hands fly to take off his jacket, his shirt, reaching down to frantically unbutton his pants without shame; stopped only when he insists on undressing you first, growling, “Need to take this dress off, hermosa.  Don’t want you wearing anything another man has touched for a minute longer.”

You step right in Pero’s space, locking desperate eyes with him as he reaches behind you to undo your zipper; he drags it down slower than necessary, drawing out the process.  When you whine at how long it’s taking, Pero chuckles, “Patience, princesa,” before pulling the zipper down the rest of the way and letting the fabric slip over your shoulders and pool around your feet.

“Holy shit, Cookie,” Pero breathes as he takes in your matching black lace lingerie set, “I think my heart just stopped.”  Suddenly shy under his gaze, you turn away to lead him to the bedroom, but he stops you and pulls you back so suddenly you crash into his chest.  Holding you flushed against him by a strong hand on the back of your neck, Pero uses his free hand to tip your chin up to look at him, murmuring, “You’re so beautiful,” before kissing you like his life depends on it.  His lips crush to yours, tongue mapping every slope and dip of your mouth, his one hand now gently gripping your neck under your jaw - caging you within his hands so that you’re left to the mercy of his desire.  One rough palm moves down your body to explore all your soft curves, lightly groping and claiming all the spots that make you moan into his mouth.  Pero walks you slowly to the couch in the middle of your living room so gradually you don’t even notice until the back of your legs hit the cushions.  He releases you at this same moment so that the soft impact has you toppling back, sat on the couch with a light bounce; you can only watch with lust hooded eyes as Pero lowers himself down to the floor onto his knees in front of you. 

“Pero,” you whisper, needy.

“I’ve got you, princesa,” breath hot, Pero kisses down your neck, hands holding your legs open so he can slot his wide frame between, getting as close to your body as possible. 

“Ohhhh, god, Pero… baby,” you whimper as his mouth worships your neck, nipping at your décolletage, then licking a wet stripe down to the valley between your breasts.  When his hands abandon their grip on your thighs to trail up, cupping your breasts, you can’t help but buck into his abdomen, seeking more of him.  Face buried in your chest, Pero chuckles, “Such an eager, pretty girl.  Tell me what you need, Cookie.”

Pulling down the cups of your lace bra so that your tits spill out, Pero gropes you roughly before his fingers zero in your nipples, alternating rolling, pinching and tugging on your peaks in an excruciating delicious pattern.  Smiling devilishly at you, “I’m waiting, princesa.”

“Fuc- oh, Pero, please.  Please.  Need your mouth, please,” you plead, desperation lacing every word. 

Without warning, Pero dips his head to take a breast in his mouth, and you gasp in pleasure, hands flying to bury themselves in his hair to grip his soft curls as his nibbles and swirls your hardened nipple.  Back arching off the back of the couch, you try to muffle you moans as Pero’s efforts with his mouth and hands electrify you to your core, heat pooling in your underwear. 

“Don’t do that, hermosa.  Want to hear you, want to hear what I do to you,” Pero comes off your breast with an obscenely wet smack of his lips before switching over to your neglected breast, his hand taking over for where his mouth left off.

“OH!  Pero, feels so good!  Right there, oh, ow!  Oh god, yessss,” the sting of Pero’s attention on your peaks only adding to your ecstasy.  Pero uses your lifted back to his advantage, his free hand now able to claw down your spine, grabbing and massaging your ass.  Having his hands so close to your pussy is sending you out of your mind; Pero’s hands and mouth seem to be everywhere at once and you don’t know what to focus on.  It’s almost too much and you gently push him away so you can catch your breath; the dopey, shit-eating grin he gives you tells you that he knows exactly what he’s doing to you. 

He does know, and Pero’s damn proud of it.  He’s never seen anything sexier in his life than you splayed out in front of him with eyes glassy from near over stimulation, tits pulled out of your bra and lightly bouncing as you pant, all while you pussy tries to grind down onto him for some friction.  He’s rock hard and he hasn’t even tasted you yet. 

Pressing a sweet kiss to your lips, swollen from where you bit them to keep yourself from crying out, Pero moves back slightly so he can admire you some more.  He can’t believe he’s here right now, that he gets to be the one that makes you feel this good; another smaller, possessive part of him triumphs that Paul never stood a chance - that you were always going to be his tonight.  And now he’s about to show you he’s worthy.

When you look back down at Pero with a lazy grin, breathing more even, Pero presses forward, “I’m going to taste you now, okay Cookie?”  Your soft ‘yes, please’, is all Pero needs to hear before he dives forward towards your dripping core.  Pressing hungry kisses over your panties, Pero growls when he feels the soaked through fabric on his tongue, “So fucking wet, princesa.  Is this all for me?”  All you can do is moan in assent as Pero continues to make out with your pussy.  His mouth never leaving you, Pero tugs off your underwear; tossing the wet scrap of lace aside to reveal your glistening cunt.  Running his fingers through your folds to spread your arousal up and over your clit, he takes a moment to drink in your near pornographic sounds before he lowers his mouth and positively feasts. 

You’re entire being feels like it’s been lit up.  Pero’s tongue presses against your seam, dipping in and out, teasing you with broad strokes and indulgent swirls.  His nose nudges at your clit over and over, as his entire head moves up and down, focused only on bringing you pleasure.  You think he’s giving you a break to collect yourself when he butterfly kisses up to your now throbbing clit, but reprieve is the furthest thing from Pero’s mind.  Just as you’re crying out his name in a heavenly melody, he breaches your tight hole with two of his thick fingers and seals your clit in between his lips and sucks.  You squirm, trying to get away from the sudden onslaught, but Pero lays his other arm across your stomach to hold you down so that all you can do is take, take, take.

“I-I-. I’m so close, Pero.  Ohhhh nghhhh, baby, ohhh, so c-close,” you’re simpering, eyes closed and head thrown back, desperate for more while simultaneously sure you can’t handle it. 

“Open your eyes, princesa.  Eyes on me while I eat your perfect pussy,” Pero commands, nuzzling your aching clit with the tip of his nose to get your attention.  When you look down, you lock eyes with Pero as his takes your nub between his lips again, lightly flicking his tongue while his curls bouncing against his forehead from the force with which his fingers drive into you.  When you grab onto his hair and pull him deeper into you, he hums his approval and the vibration does you in, you step off the cliff and let go as your orgasm washes over you, wave after wave.  Pero continues to finger fuck you through your high while rising on one knee to palm at your neglected tits and kiss you long and tender. 

“Oh, Pero. Ohhh, that was- oh god,” you can barely string together your words; you’re completely wrung out and spent.  You’re now Pero’s pliable fuck doll, good and ready for his cock and not much else. He lifts your legs and maneuvers you into a laying position on the couch and it’s all you can do to try and keep your eyes open while you wait for him undo his pants and free his hard cock.  He’s magnificent: long with an impressive girth, a thick perfect vein runs along the underside of his length, ending at a bulbous weeping head; you want to feel the heft of him on your tongue.  Your hunger must show in your eyes and the way your plush lips instinctively part because Pero chuckles, “Another time, Cookie.  Right now, I’m going crazy every second I’m not in this tight cunt.”  He looks around the room looking for his backpack to get a condom, when, as if you’re reading his mind, you offer dreamily, “Pero, I’m clean.  If you want…”

His dick jumping at your words, Pero want you to be certain, “I’m clean too, hermosa.  Are you sure?”

“Want to feel you, baby,” your eyes dark with lust, “Fuck me bare, Pero.”

How’s he supposed to last when you have a mouth like that? “Fuck, princesa,” he breathes as he runs his tip through your dripping folds, adding to the sheen of leftover slick he transferred from his fingers; Pero fists his cock and coats it in your release to ready himself for your tight hole.  Hovering over you, he lines himself up to your entrance and captures your mouth in a passionate kiss as he slowly pushes in.  Every quick inhale of air you take to replace what he pushes out of your lungs is music to Pero’s ears.  Your tight walls almost choke him as he feels you spread your legs further, one leg now dangling off the edge of the couch in order to accommodate his size.  Pero is remiss to leave your lips, but he’s unable to resist the temptation to lean back and watch your face as you take his full length.  You hold his gaze amid your lust-filled haze, a blissed-out smile spreads across your beautiful face that cracks only when you lips form a soft ‘oh’ before relaxing again; Pero is hypnotized by this pattern repeating itself over and over as he pushes in deeper into your cunt.  When he finally bottoms out, you let out a breathy ‘Fuck’ before pulling him in for a slow and patient, soul affirming kiss.

Full. You feel so full.  “Taking me so well, princesa.  God you feel so perfect around my cock,” purrs Pero,  peppering your face and neck with soft, soothing kisses; waiting for your go ahead to move.  When you give it, he starts slow; dragging his cock nearly all the way out, before pushing back in with the same tempered control – you reward him with a call of his name and praise on how good it feels to be split open.  Over and over, he thrusts into you with the restraint of saint until he feels your arousal start to drown his cock, and only then does he pick up the pace; you wrap your legs around his back, heels digging into his back to press him deeper, encouraging him to fuck you harder until he’s driving his cock into your cunt with a force that punches the air out of your lungs every time.  His grunts combined with his filthy words affirming how you were made for him, how he wants to stay buried in you, how you’re creaming so pretty around him, push you closer and closer to your edge again.

Snaking his hand between your bodies to toy with your sensitive clit, Pero feels you clenching down, “Come for me, Cookie.  You look so perfect when you come, need to see you come on my cock.”  You want to please him so.  You’ll give him everything he asks for, so long as he never stops looking at you the way he is right now: wrecked, desperate, devoted.  Doubling down on his attention to your pulsating bud, Pero draws perfect circles with his thumbs as he continues to rut into you with abandon, chasing both of your releases.  This time, when you come, your back lifts off the couch and Pero catches you, pulling you close as you shout out his name over and over into his shoulder, biting down and sucking into his skin so to muffle the string of obscenities rolling off your tongue.

The sting of pain from your teeth brings Pero to his precipice, and he manages to choke out, “Where do you want me, princesa,” before laying you down gently and pulling out.  Still lightheaded and cock drunk, you gaze through your lashes at Pero and almost shy, request, “Paint my tits please, Pero.”

Fisting himself furiously, the timidness of your tone in contrast to the lewdness of your words sends a tightness through Pero’s whole body right before he jerks and splashes ropes of cum all over your pretty breasts.

When he’s done, he steps off from over you and kneels by your head, kissing you appreciatively.  He reaches to grab a box of tissues but when he offers them to you, you giggle and swipe your fingers through his milky spend and pop your fingers in your mouth, sucking them clean.  Pero feels his softening dick make a valiant attempt to jump back to life as he watches you clean every last drop of his cum from your chest, licking your fingers and swallowing with a hum.  After he helps you up to your feet, you cup Pero’s face in your hands, stroking his scruff with your thumbs, and he melts under your tender affections.  “Stay over?” you look up, doe eyed. 

Grabbing you at your waist and sweetly kissing you as he walks you backwards toward the bedroom, Pero grins wickedly, “Of course, Cookie.  I’m not done with you yet.”