#so far it's been a bit over a year and a half

[cutielando]

a baku special | l.n.

synopsis: in which Y/N is there for the Baku GP

my masterlist

To say that Lando was excited for the Azerbaijan weekend was an understatement. Baku was probably one of his favorite tracks, and he was excited to finally be back after a year away.

He was especially excited that you were finally able to attend the race, having been stuck at work ever since you came back from the summer break. You were just as bummed that you had to miss the Dutch Grand Prix, especially since his family was there for Lando, but you finally managed to get some time off of work to join your boyfriend.

The entire team was grateful that you were able to tag along, frankly. They never failed to let you know just how mopey Lando was every time he had to leave you behind at home, how down he was and how much it took to get him to even smile or seem excited about the race.

Poking fun at him with Jon and Will was one of your favorite things, in truth. Even though he always got embarrassed, you knew he secretly loved seeing you get along so well with the closest people to him from the team. 

The weekend started very promising, to say the least. Both Oscar and Lando seemed very consistent and quick during the runs they did in the free practice sessions, and everything was looking very well for the qualifying session later that Saturday.

Lando had a very good feeling about it, jumping up and down in excitement in the last half hour he had free before he had to get in the car.

“You look excited as hell” you commented as Lando brought you with him as he started getting ready, smiling at how bouncy and energetic he was.

“I have a good feeling about this weekend, just wait and see” he smiled, giving you one last kiss before putting on his balaclava and his helmet, making you press a kiss to it before he made his way towards the car.

It had become your little ritual whenever you attended a race, giving his helmet a little kiss before he would get into the car. It made him feel more confident when you did that, reminding him that you were there with him, supporting him like you always did. 

But as the minutes ticked by during Q1 and Lando exited the garage with 2 minutes left on the clock, your heart started racing a little and panic started creeping into your veins. 

They had left it very late, and with the amount of yellow flags that have been shown during every single session so far in the weekend, you worried that something was going to go wrong and he wouldn’t be able to set a fast lap in time.

And, unfortunately, that was exactly what had happened.

He was doing so well, his lap times were so much faster than his previous lap and he was so close to the finish line when the marshals decided to wave that yellow flag for Ocon’s car, ultimately ending your boyfriend’s quali run in that exact moment.

Slamming on the breaks just mere meters away from the finish line, Lando slowly limped back to the pits, the session over for him much earlier than anyone had expected.

You didn’t need to see or hear him to know how gutted and disappointed he was by the pure bad luck he had with the timing of that yellow flag, the fight for the World Championship now more intense than ever. There was no room for mistakes, everyone knew that, but what could you do when things out of your control happen?

Will was just as disappointed as Lando when he had to tell him he did not have the time to start another flying lap, Jon was just as sad as you were to see him aborting and coming back 17th, and you… you had no words left in your body.

Lando got out of the car quickly, taking off his helmet and balaclava before accepting the water bottle you had been holding for him, his expression neutral, but you could see the turmoil happening in his eyes.

You slowly approached him as he drank from his bottle and stared off into the distance, pressing a hand on his back as you leaned in to whisper in his ear “Do you want to go back to your driver room for a bit?” 

He nodded, his mind still somewhere else but he allowed you to pull him with you, not even glancing at anyone in the garage. He felt bad enough as it was, he didn’t want to see the disappointed faces of his entire team, it would only make him feel worse.

You silently walked through the motor home, smiling slightly at people passing you and praying that none of them say anything to Lando. He just needed to be alone and away from everyone for a moment, he didn’t need to be bombarded with questions from the media just yet.

He deserved to be alone for at least 5 minutes following that qualifying.

The moment you got to his room, you locked the door behind you as he sat down on a chair, staring at his feet with an absent look on his face.

“Are you okay?” you asked as you kneeled in front of him, taking the bottle out of his hands and taking his hands into yours.

“The championship battle is over” he muttered, biting his lip as he sniffled. 

You shook your head, squeezing his hands into yours.

“Don’t say that, don’t you dare say that. You had back luck, baby, everyone knows that. You would have been P2 if that yellow flag hadn’t happened, and you know it. It had nothing to do with your performance, baby. It was FIA's mistake, don’t beat yourself up over it. You’ll come back stronger in tomorrow’s race and you’ll show everyone what a brilliant driver you really are” you said, punctuating every single word.

“What if I can’t do it? P17 is not really an ideal start” he said, but the corner of his lip threatened to lift upwards.

He was slowly coming back to you, slowly realizing that this wasn’t the end of the world, and it certainly wasn’t the end in his championship battle with Max.

“You will fight like hell and you will come back from this. I’m sure others will receive penalties and you’ll move up either way, but you’re a brilliant driver and this is nothing but another challenge to prove to everyone just how good you are and how much you deserve to have a quick car and win with it” you declared, your heart growing fonder once you saw the small smile Lando had on his face.

Just for the moment, he didn’t care about the race tomorrow, or about the fact that he had to start at the back of the grid. The only thing he cared about in that moment was that you were there with him, and that was all he needed in order to push through.

Just you.

♡♡♡♡♡

The morning of the race was very busy for Lando, having woken up a good while before you and left for the track so he could discuss the strategy with his team thoroughly. 

You didn’t wake up until 10am, having taken your time to get ready before heading to the track alongside Jon. 

Meeting up with Lando took longer than you had expected, him finally emerging into the motorhome an hour and a half before he had to be in the car to start the race.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” you asked once he came into your view, joining you as you were grabbing breakfast.

He sighed, resting his elbows against the table and his head against his palm.

“I’ve been up since 7, going over different strategies since 8:30. I’m starting 15th, by the way. Pierre and Lewis are both starting from the pitlane, so that’s some good news” he said, making you smile and squeeze his arm.

“Remember what we talked about yesterday?” you asked, making him nod. “This is just another day where you have to drive your best and show everyone just how talented you are with a good car. Don’t think about how many cars you have to overtake, just go out there and have a good time. I have faith in you” you smiled and kissed the side of his head, resting your forehead against his shoulder as your hand caressed the hair at the back of his neck, the soft curls waving between your fingers.

“Sometimes I don’t know how I manage when you’re not here with me” he said, resting his head against yours.

You smile sadly, wishing that you could attend every single race in order to be with him. 

The two of you had had some talks during the course of your relationship, with Lando suggesting that if you didn’t want to, you didn’t have to work because he had more than enough money to comfortably support the both of you.

But you liked your job, you liked the feeling of belonging to a place just like Lando belonged in the racing world, and you liked earning your own money (even though you barely used any of it because Lando always insisted on paying for everything). But when there came times like these, when your fiancé just needed you to be there for him, you wanted nothing more than to quit your job and just follow him around the world.

That was a conversation you would have after the race, though.

“I love you, never forget that. I’m always here for you, even if I’m not physically here. I’ll support you from whatever corner of the world I am at, never doubt that” you turned his head towards you and kissed him, pouring every single emotion into the kiss.

Lando melted at the feeling of your lips against his, the feeling of kissing you never having less of an effect on him than it did when you first got together. The butterflies were still there, and he still giggled on the inside whenever you two kissed, like a teenager in love.

Because he was in love with you, head over heels, and he would never get over it when it felt so good.

“I love you too”

♡♡♡♡♡

Frankly, the race was one of the most stress-inducing races you had ever attended personally. 

You were biting your lip every time the screen would cut to Lando overtaking someone, the sight of the walls coming at him at very high speeds making your heart jump every single time.

But seeing him climb through the order as fast as he possibly could made you prouder than you thought you could ever be.

The last sting on the mediums trying to catch and overtake Max had you the most stressed. You knew it was a pretty high gamble, one that both Lando and the team were willing to make, but you also knew how badly Max defended his positions, whether he had the car to do it or not.

Painful flashbacks of their fight in Austria came at you with high speeds, the unfortunate retirement on Lando’s side with just a couple of laps to go still haunting the both of you.

But then, he got closer and closer to Max, with fewer and fewer laps to go, and then he was in front of him. You didn’t remember cheering as loudly as you did in that moment with the team, not even when he won in Miami or Zandvoort.

Crossing the finish line in P4 was more than anyone could have wanted, and with Oscar winning the Grand Prix and McLaren leading the Constructors Championship, it was an amazing day for everyone in the team, every single person involved.

But especially for Lando.

You were anxiously and excitedly waiting for him to get back to the garage, ready to congratulate him on a superb drive that he should be nothing but proud of.

And then when you finally saw him approaching, you couldn’t stop yourself from running over to him, jumping straight into his arms, your arms wrapped tightly around his neck and your legs locked around his waist.

“I’m so fucking proud of you” you whispered against his neck, tears running down your cheeks from how proud you were of him.

“Who would have thought, right?” he joked, sighing against your neck as he took in your scent and your presence, his adrenaline starting to wear off as your presence calmed him down.

The world around you seemed to not even exist anymore, it was only the two of you locked in a tight embrace, ignoring every noise other than the steady breathing and heartbeat between you.

“I never doubted you for a second. I know what you’re capable of and you proved everything today on track” you lifted your head from his neck and took his face in your hands, not wasting another second before pressing your hungry lips against his, kissing him like he was your oxygen and your life depended on him.

And so, in those moments, after such a disastrous start to the weekend, the love of your life prevails, with you by his side.

Like always.

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[magniloquent-raven]

Day 3: Missing Moments

a little something for @bucktommypositivityweek 💜 tommy POV after their first date + buck calling about meeting for coffee

**

Tommy's not moping. He doesn't mope. Especially not over a relationship that wasn't even a relationship yet. It was one date. Arguably less. Half a date with a guy he's hung out with—if he's counting very generously—a grand total of four times.

A blip, as far as relationships go. He has more history with that guy he used to trade semi-frequent blowjobs with who's saved in his phone as Nose Ring.

...Come to think of it, he should delete that guy's number. They haven't spoken in years. He's pretty sure the last text in their message history is—yup. Dick pic. From Nose Ring. They'd gone six months without contact, then he sent a picture of his penis and nothing else. Tommy couldn't find it in himself to be even vaguely interested, and there's been no communication since.

And that's really that's the problem, isn't it. His dating history is riddled with guys like that. Dead-end hookups and bad dates with people he didn't click with no matter how much he tried to force it. And people who just...didn't care enough. Then Evan...

Alright, he's moping a little bit. He's only human.

He's been laying in bed, staring at the ceiling. Pretty much since he got home. It's not late enough that he's tired, really, but he's also exhausted. In a soul-deep sort of way.

It was nice. He had a nice time, sitting across from Evan, letting him stutter his way through all the usual first date talking points like he was reading them off a list in his head. It was cute, how seriously he took it, how he'd pause and smile and get that soft look in his eye when he was listening to Tommy talk.

It would have been so easy to be greedy and keep spending time basking in that warmth he seems to radiate. Evan was clearly willing to push himself way past his comfort zone, but. Tommy wasn't. Isn't. His stomach twists just thinking about it.

But maybe he's being selfish either way. He wants more than Evan can give him, so he's pulling away completely, retreating before he can get too deep into planning a future Evan isn't ready for.

He sighs, feeling around next to his pillow until his fingers close around his phone.

Maybe Evan will reach out again. Some day. Eventually. Once he's more at ease with himself. Or maybe Tommy already ruined what could have been before it even started. Probably safer to just assume the latter. Restrict himself to hoping they can still be friends after this.

He scrolls aimlessly through his contacts. There's quite a few numbers in there that he should delete. Names he's not sure he recognizes anymore. Ones he wishes he could forget.

For some godforsaken reason he still has Sam Westbrook in here. Just reading the name puts a pit in his stomach. He doesn't remember everything about the three horrible months they spent together, it's mostly just flashes. The taste of too much beer on his tongue, saturated and clumsy in his mouth. A sharp smile and a sharper suit, always pressed and starched and better-than-you.

Tommy was newly out and far too hard on himself about how difficult it was. Guys like Sam seemed to sniff that out, made his personal shame all about them. It didn't always work, but Sam was particularly good at it. He always left Tommy feeling gutted and guilty and far too willing to do whatever it took to make it up to him the next time they saw each other. It's not a relationship he likes to think about.

But it's a reminder that he did the right thing tonight.

And...

Maybe he'll call Evan. Not yet, not right away. Tommy needs time to square away his own messy feelings, but maybe in a couple weeks. Just to let Even know he's. Around. If he needs someone to talk to about all this.

They can be friends. He'll make it work.

He deletes Sam's number, and tosses his phone aside.

Two weeks.

—

It's only two days later when his phone rings, Evan Buckley written across his screen in big white letters. He stares at it through five long buzzes while his heartbeat pounds in his ears.

This...wasn't the plan. And to make matters worse, he's at work. He catches one of his coworkers side-eyeing him curiously, and that pretty much guarantees he'll have at least three people ask him what was up with the phone call before his shift it over.

Well. He should at least give them something to gossip about. A guy called me and I watched it go to voicemail isn't much of a story.

He swipes to answer, before he can make himself any more nervous.

"Hey."

"Tommy! Hey!" Evan's voice crackles a little through the phone with a surprised intake of breath, like he wasn't the one who called in the first place. The corner of Tommy's mouth twitches. "H-how's it going?"

Tommy spent four hours yesterday taking apart his neighbours' lawn mower because he'd convinced the man it was making a weird noise and he could fix it. There was nothing wrong with it, but he checked every inch anyways, and put it back together well-oiled and exactly as pristine as it was before. That morning he'd gone grocery shopping with a paper list and his phone at home so he'd stop obsessively combing through all his files trying to find things to delete.

So, he's having a very normal week, clearly.

"Good," he says instead of explaining any of that. "I'm actually at work right now, so—"

"Oh crap, I forgot you were working today, sorry. I—I can call back later if you're busy."

"No, it's okay. Slow day so far." He pauses. "One might even say qui—"

"Ah, don't jinx it!"

Tommy snickers. Apparently Eddie wasn't exaggerating. He's known a lot of superstitious people, but most of them didn't take it this seriously. Evan sounded less panicked about flying directly into an actual hurricane. "Right, the dreaded Q-Word."

"Did you hear about the power lines that fell on our engine?!"

"Yes." He'd seen the pictures too. Pretty much everyone had, the 133 were sending them around all day after they took that call.

"And then some guy stole it later that same day, y'know. It was a terrible shift."

He'd heard about that too, but not that it was the same station. Damn. "Alright, alright. No tempting fate."

"Well. Good. Too many things can go wrong with helicopters."

Tommy squints up at the rafters, feeling unbearably fond. Like he's full of something warm and syrupy and too big for his chest, like he's spilling sunlight between his ribs.

He should ask why Evan called. Polite check-in after their date ended so abruptly? Another storm he needs Tommy to fly into? Metaphorical or otherwise. Hopefully it won't involve stealing anything else. They got way too lucky the first time for Tommy to trust it working out again, and he kind of likes his job.

He slips his free hand into his pocket. "How are you doing, Evan?"

"Oh." He lets out a soft exhale that comes through as quiet static. "I, uh. Good, actually. B-better, um. Listen, are you free tomorrow?"

Tommy stops breathing, lungs seizing for a long moment before he very carefully reminds himself how to use them. "Yes."

"I wanted to. Talk. To you. Um. In person, preferably."

This really wasn't the plan.

But it's fine. It's more than fine. It's...

He'll just have to deal with wanting to kiss the living daylights out of someone who's off-limits, it's not like he's never had to do that before. If Evan needs something from him he's not about to say no, he just didn't expect it to happen so soon, if it happened at all.

"I, uh, would've just popped by your house unannounced, but I thought this might be more polite," he continues, a teasing lilt in his voice. Tommy purses his lips against the smile threatening to overtake his face. "Also, I don't know where you live."

"You could've asked Eddie."

"Oh, so you're saying I should have ambushed you then?"

"No, that's very rude. Who does that."

Evan's delighted laugh is bright and infectious, and has him grinning at his feet, sunlight spreading down to the tips of his fingers.

"So, coffee? Tomorrow?"

"Alright."

"Cool. Awesome. I'll text you the details?"

"Cool," he echoes, purposefully deadpan. "Awesome."

He can hear the smile in Evan's voice when he pretends to be offended by the mocking. It's there all through their goodbye too, and Tommy finds himself coiled up around his anticipation at the thought of seeing that smile again.

It's going to be a long 18 hours. But it's worth the wait.

[d1xonss]

Practice Makes Perfect

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Reader

✧ Era : Season 11

✧ Pronouns : she/her

✧ Genre : ⚠️ Smut (18+)

✧ Word Count : 8.9k

AN ~ Okay, so this was originally a request sent in by annon, but when I first uploaded it, I wasn't completely happy with the turnout. It felt a bit rushed and there were some things I wanted to change so I figured I would reupload and try again. So in other words, if you've already seen me post this once, no you didn't:) Hope you enjoy! xoxo

ps- Daryl's a sub in this so if you're into that, this is definitely for you;)

Daryl stood slumped over at the kitchen counter in the shitty apartment he now called home, the space oddly silent as the kids were off with Carol for the day. But the quiet was nice, it gave him time to think, time to let his mind wander as he slowly woke for the day. The smell of coffee hit his nose as it brewed softly from behind him, the light streaming in through the opened windows to let in the fresh breeze. 

Though his gaze remained downcast at the piece of paper that sat in front of him, his eyes rereading the words over and over again to the point where he had it memorized. The neat cursive of your handwriting, the small errors in your spelling, and especially the little heart you placed at the bottom where your name was signed. You had left it the first time you came over, and even though you didn’t have a clue in the world, he had kept it ever since. Mostly because he didn’t have the heart to throw it away. Though there might’ve been another small part of him that held onto it because it was something you wrote out for him, and him only.

He reminisced about how stressed he was that day, having just moved into the Commonwealth with two of his kids, trying to figure out the new community and routine they would have to grow accustomed to. It was all very surreal having to go back to a “normal” kind of life, Judith already asking for allowance before he even had his first day of work made his head spin. But then with just a soft knock on the door, came a sight that he never expected to see.

You stood there on the other side, all pretty and perfect, wearing a smile on your face and holding out a container of cookies as some kind of welcome. You explained that you lived just down the hall and heard about the new arrivals, wanting to do something special as you expressed your understanding for how weird it must’ve felt for him. And after offering your baked goods and assistance to whatever they might need, all Daryl could do was nod his head as he stared at you dumbly. He wasn’t trying to be rude, in fact he appreciated your words more than anything in that moment. However, he couldn’t help but ogle you as if you walked straight out of a Disney movie or something.

And it was safe to say those feelings never exactly went away. In fact every time he saw you they only seemed to worsen.

The kids however were even more hooked with you than he was, your cookies really winning them over in the beginning as they finished them within a day and a half. “Marry her.” was the first thing Judith told him after tasting the delicious treat, and he couldn’t deny he was amused. Though he obviously wasn’t looking to date or marry anyone ever, the idea of eating whatever you baked for the years to come...it tempted him a bit.

But the reality of it all was that he didn’t want to ruin his blossoming friendship with you, it was far too precious for him to ever risk. That, and he had absolutely no experience with relationships whatsoever. He had kissed a girl once when he was about fifteen, but other than that, he hadn't been with anyone in his entire life. Never even showed interest in any woman that attempted to flirt or touch him as he simply didn’t ever feel the need to want that. He always preferred to be on his own, that’s just the way that it was. 

But now as he stood there, reading over your note you left on top of the container of cookies all those months ago, he knew he was in way over his head with someone like you.

Just then the front door suddenly opened up, the sound causing him to jump a bit as your familiar voice called out, “It’s me!”

It had become a common occurrence for you to just walk into each other's homes without knocking, and though Daryl didn’t mind, now was clearly not the time. He scrambled to open up a random drawer, tossing the note inside before slamming it shut again, “Kitchen.” he called back with a huff.

He saw your head peek around the corner a few seconds later, smiling as you adjusted the strap of your purse, “Hey, you busy?”

“Nah,” he said as he awkwardly scratched the back of his neck, “Just…makin some coffee.” he gestured, offering you a thin lipped smile.

You nodded, “Where are the kids?” you asked, sitting yourself down at one of the stools across from him, “I found some things I think they’ll like, I figured I’d stop by and drop them off.”

“They’re out with Carol, she offered to take ‘em for a couple hours.”

“Oh.” you nodded again as you watched him turn around to pour himself a cup of coffee, “Well, that’s nice…you deserve some peace in the mornings every once and a while. I can just leave them here.” you suggested as you took the two little boxes out of your bag, placing them down on the counter.

He hummed a response before retrieving some milk and sugar to pour a decent amount into the mug, making you question everything as he was always adamant on having his coffee black. The way God intended or something. But then your expression softened a bit seeing him setting it down in front of you instead, making it the way he knew you loved.

“Oh, I don’t need any-” you tried to protest.

“It’s just coffee,” he said as if it were no big deal, “No roofies or anything, I swear.”

You snorted at his shitty joke, like you always did, raising the cup to your lips as you muttered, “Smartass.” just loud enough for him to hear.

He smirked a little at your response, pouring himself a cup of the steaming hot beverage as the two of you enjoyed it in the nice comfortable silence. His eyes never strayed away from you for very long however, almost as if he was casually taking in your appearance without you noticing too much. You always dressed up pretty, your hair styled to perfection, wearing some kind of boot or high heel, and paired with some fancy outfit that was far too much for the apocalypse. But Daryl never minded. In fact, he found it endearing.

Though he couldn’t help but let his mind wander a bit, noticing that it had been quite a long time since he had seen you. Usually the two of you would get together a few times a week simply because you had grown to love each other’s company. But recently you had been busy with other things, with other people. Perhaps that’s why he found himself staring at your note this morning, subconsciously missing you without even realizing it.

“You avoiding me or somethin?” he then broke the silence, his question lighthearted but a part of him was a little serious. His insecurities tending to get in the way of things.

Your brows furrowed a little, “What?”

He shrugged a bit, “Just noticed you’ve been busy lately…haven’t seen ya in a while. Miss ya.”

You gave him a sad smile, “Believe me, I’m not doing it on purpose, work has just been insane. We recruited a few new people who don’t know what the hell they’re doing, training them has been a disaster, and…” you trailed off as you looked at him, noticing the small smile he wore when watching you ramble on and on. “...I miss you too.”

“Then stay for a while.” he said, his voice soft, seeing if he could keep you a few extra minutes before you would ultimately have to go to work.

You sat up a bit straighter at the invitation, “Yeah? You want me to?”

“Course.” he reassured, though his statement made him feel a bit uneasy, roughly clearing his throat to slightly divert the topic, “Just…don’t get too comfortable cause you ain’t movin in.”

He heard you laugh softly, the sound being almost too perfect to be real, “Don’t worry, I know you like your little bachelor pad going on here.” you gestured.

He scoffed, “Yeah, when the kids ain’t hoggin it.”

You hummed before a slow knowing smile was brought to your face, gently setting down your mug, “You know, speaking of…I talked to Carol recently. She told me some pretty interesting things.”

He raised an eyebrow, whether it was one of concern or curiosity, you couldn’t tell, “Oh yeah? Bout what?”

“You. And…Connie.” you hinted.

A look of surprise crossed his face, “What bout Connie?”

You shrugged innocently, “She seems to think you have a little thing for her.” you said, taking another sip of your coffee as you looked around, “Maybe this won’t be a bachelor pad for long.” you winked.

Daryl was left baffled. Why Carol would think he had a thing for Connie, he had no idea. But she had gotten it completely wrong, and now the girl he had been pinning over was under the same impression from the misinformation. But he couldn’t necessarily correct you, not without you questioning why. This conversation couldn’t have been going any worse, and all because he just wanted you to stay for a damn cup of coffee.

He couldn’t help but chuckle nervously, running a hand through his slightly messy hair, “You and yer wishful thinkin, girl.” he tried to brush off.

You tilted your head a bit at his dismissive tone, “I just want you to be happy.”

The sincerity in your voice made his heart flutter in an unimaginable way, finding he couldn’t stop the smile that spread onto his face. This is exactly why he liked you, your heart was far too big for your own good. “Yer pretty sweet, ya know that?”

“I’m just being honest,” you spoke softly, “If anyone deserves happiness, it’s you.”

He scoffed lightly in response, “Well, I appreciate that…but I don't think that's somethin I want...it ain’t really that simple for me. I can’t just…do that with Connie. Or any woman really. I ain’t good at that kinda stuff, I dunno what the hell m’ doin. I never even-”

A lump formed in his throat as he suddenly cut off the last part of his sentence, feeling his face get hot with embarrassment at what almost dared to slip out. He hadn’t meant to say that much, he never wanted to admit this kind of stuff to anyone let alone the woman he was enamored by. But now he had gone too far, he became far too open and honest about his inexperience, and now all he wanted to do was crawl into a hole and die. 

Apparently, the conversation could get worse.

Though whether it was because of your innocence or the fact that it was early in the morning, you weren’t picking up what he was putting down as your face morphed into confusion instead. “Never even…what?”

Oh for the love of God.

Daryl cleared his throat awkwardly as he ran a hand over his face, the redness spreading down his neck as he debated on whether or not to tell you. It was mortifying, the fact that he had gone fifty whole years without touching a woman was absolutely the last thing he wanted you to know. Yet at the same time, he trusted you. He trusted you wouldn’t laugh or make fun of him for the matter. And anyway, he felt it was a little too late to back out now given the intrigued look on your face.

“Never had…y’know…” he trailed off with a gesture of his hand, hoping he wouldn’t have to actually say it out loud.

A beat of silence passed before your eyes widened a little as you connected the dots. Though you couldn’t bring yourself to believe it. No way this man was a virgin.

“Shut up.”

Daryl felt his cheeks burn brighter at your disbelief, “M’ serious…I ain’t ever…done that before.”

“You’ve never had sex?” you asked as if to make sure you were truly on the same page.

He blinked, “No.”

You slumped back in your seat with a breath, “Wow…” you muttered, watching as he grew more uncomfortable by the second. Though you weren’t trying to make him uneasy by admitting such a thing, it just genuinely surprised you that he had gone this far in his life without sleeping with someone. I mean…he was attractive, kind, somewhat of a smartass. It was hard to believe no one had fallen for that sort of thing, causing you to wonder just how much he had missed out on.

You nodded to yourself, “We gotta get you laid or something.”

His eyes widened in absolute horror, clearly not expecting that response from you, “No, no that’s- what?” he exclaimed in disgust, “You ain’t gettin me laid.”

“Why not?” you asked in mild disappointment.

He set his mug down on the counter with a soft slam as he grunted in slight frustration, “Christ (Y/N), cause it ain’t that easy. I don’t just wanna screw around with someone, that ain’t me. I would have to have…feelings for that person to get that far, y’know?” he asked, silently pleading with you to understand.

His outlook made you slowly realize that Daryl wasn’t like any other guy you’d ever met. Well, you always knew that, but hearing his genuine words seemed to make you falter for a moment as you just simply stared at him. Any other guy would absolutely dive head first for the opportunity to have a random and meaningless hookup, something to make them feel good before forgetting about the other person as a whole. Using them to just get what they wanted. 

But Daryl…was the complete opposite; probably the biggest sweetheart the world had ever seen. You knew he would want to love and cherish that person he would share such an intimate moment with, treating them with the most respect and consideration. He would probably take it as slow as possible, not only to prolong the intimacy, but to make sure they were truly comfortable. You imagined him to be gentle and kind, even after the deed was done, he would continue to take care of them, offering to get them anything their heart desired. 

Thinking about all of this caused an unexpected flutter in your stomach, one that you didn’t expect. But you couldn’t deny it was there.

You blinked a few times to snap yourself out of it, clearing your throat awkwardly, “I know that…I honestly wouldn’t expect anything less from you.” you smiled softly.

His shoulders relaxed a bit upon hearing your response, nodding in appreciation as he assumed the topic of conversation would end here, hoping to get out of this humiliating misery. But before he could speak, your gentle voice cut off his words.

“Is there someone you have feelings for?"

His eyes widened a little at the unexpected question, "...Huh?"

"Is there someone you’d want to, you know…experience that with?” you clarified.

He paused again, swallowing nervously as there was a certain heaviness to that question he couldn’t place. Of course there was. The way he felt about you was unlike anything else he had ever experienced before. In the beginning he denied it relentlessly, because he simply couldn’t accept the fact that he had managed to open up his heart to someone so special. But there was no denying it anymore, at least to himself. Though you on the other hand, could never know the truth.

“Nah.” he said simply.

You nodded slowly in understanding, quietly tapping your fingers on the counter as if you were trying to figure out what to say. “Well…if there comes a time where there is someone, and you need some advice…I’m always around.” you assured.

He nodded slowly, “Alright...” he said in appreciation, trying to mask how he was really feeling, his heart feeling like it was about to burst out of his chest at the thought of you seeing through him.

“Dropping the topic now.” you said as you raised your hands in surrender.

He chuckled gruffly, “Thanks.”

You smiled up at him, before catching a glimpse of the time blinking on the oven, “Oh shoot, I should go. I have to head into the infirmary in like fifteen minutes.” you said as you quickly drank one last mouthful of coffee.

Daryl tried his best not to let his disappointment show, nodding once more as his eyes followed you when you moved around to place your empty mug in the sink. Though the disappointment seemed to diminish when you turned around to give him a hug, your arms going around his shoulders as you gave him a soft squeeze. He found himself smiling at your familiar gesture, patting your back before he pulled away first, his hand lingering on your arm.

“Stay outta trouble, alright?” he mumbled.

“Always.” you promised in return.

An entire week had passed since that little talk the two of you had in his home, and it was safe to say that it had been plaguing Daryl’s mind ever since. He couldn’t recall the last time he was so open with someone, not being able to tell for certain if he regretted it or not. Though he couldn’t deny that your support and understanding wasn’t something to take for granted. But the longer he thought about the interaction, the more he wished he’d told you the truth.

Maybe he should’ve laid it all out there, but then again he had a lot to lose. Having no idea how you would react to his confession, he could potentially scare you off, and that was something he didn’t know if he should risk. He became a mess of emotions as he pondered endlessly over the things that clouded his thoughts. Although he couldn’t deny that he was slowly starting to find the idea of sex more and more appealing the longer he thought about it. Maybe having a little experience wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. But that also meant having to ask you for that experience, and he knew he would rather die than put himself out there like that.

Though as the days dragged on and he grew more restless, he physically couldn’t stop himself from thinking about it. This was way out of his comfort zone, he knew that, but he felt like he was going crazy at this point. At least if you said no then he could just move on and not absolutely spiral about the constant “what ifs.” So, with that in mind, he smoked an entire joint by himself in order to calm his nerves before gathering what little confidence he had left, and headed down to the infirmary where he knew you’d be at this hour. He couldn’t let himself think about the decision too much otherwise he knew he would surely chicken out. 

The door opened with a soft creak as he stepped inside, scanning the area for you. He disregarded the people sitting in the waiting area, clearly anticipating when their name would be called, opting out to peer around the corner to try and see if he could spot you. And sure enough he managed to catch a glimpse of your frame in the back, stocking up a nearby medicine cabinet as you organized a few pill bottles. You were wearing that little white doctors coat that he knew you hated, thinking it ruined your outfits. But he always found it quite attractive.

He awkwardly stood there for a moment as if debating whether or not to go back there, knowing he didn’t exactly have permission. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, letting out a small whistle in hopes to get you to look at him. It was a quiet, soft sound, but it caught your attention nonetheless, glancing over your shoulder to see him standing there lingering in the waiting room. He smiled a bit, gesturing with a hand as if asking if he could walk over to talk to you, to which you nodded almost immediately, waving him back.

Daryl let out a breath once you beckoned him to come over, silently slipping past everyone else to join you in your more secluded spot, “Hey.” he breathed.

You smiled, “Hey, what’re you doing here?”

Once you said that, it hit him. What was he doing here? He showed up to where you worked of all places to have this private discussion, not even considering the option to invite you over sometime to talk like adults. Maybe he underestimated how high he really was.

“Just uh…just wanted to see ya.” he said quietly, shoving his hands in his pockets as he figured there was no backing out now, “Can we talk for a minute?”

“Oh, um…” you trailed off as you looked around, making sure no one needed your assistance, “You might have to make it quick.”

He nodded in understanding, “Right, course…I promise it won’t take long.”

Your brows furrowed a little in concern, “What’s going on?”

He cleared his throat nervously, gripping the material of his jeans as he felt his palms begin to sweat, “You know, uh…you remember that morning you came over a few days ago? When we was talkin in the kitchen?”

“Mhm.” you nodded.

He swallowed thickly as his heart was beating concerningly fast, trying to force himself to just say it, “Well, I been thinkin…bout what you said and…all that,” he gestured with his hand, “Bout gettin some real experience.”

Your eyebrows raised a little, “Really? You changed your mind?”

“Yeah, I did,” he grunted, “I think it could help, y’know…get outta my comfort zone and whatnot. See what all the fuss is bout.” he joked dryly, purposefully dancing around the subject.

You smiled a bit in surprise that he was willing to take that step, knowing normally he wasn’t one for change or trying new things. But maybe this time he was really ready to put himself out there, and you couldn’t lie, you were happy for him. Though the more you thought about it, the more you became a bit discouraged at the thought of him with another woman. You didn’t know where it came from, this pang of jealousy, but you knew you couldn’t say anything. After all, you were his friend, and he clearly came here in search of the support you always provided.

So, you managed to push your lingering thoughts aside, smiling genuinely as you gave his arm a small nudge, “Well, I think that’s great.”

He hummed as he nodded his head, trying to force himself to just stop being a coward and ask, “But I also had…somethin to ask ya.”

You raised an eyebrow, “Oh? About advice?”

“Nah…not exactly,” he mumbled as he let out a heavy sigh, “I was just wonderin…if you’d…” he trailed off again as he took another moment to look at you. He knew there was no going back after he said this, questioning last minute if it was really worth it. But seeing that gleam in your eyes and the sweetness of your smile, the words just seemed to stumble out without his permission.

“If you’d be the one to give me some experience.” he said quietly, his tall frame leaning down a bit to mutter it quietly for your ears only.

Your stomach plummeted when you heard his quiet request, feeling as if the wind was knocked out of you as that was the last thing you expected to come out of his mouth. The way his tone dropped when he asked, the fact that he took a small step closer to tower over you more than he normally was. It was all doing something to do. The tension between you was there, thick enough to cut with a knife as you stared at him practically gaping like a fish, not knowing what to say.

On one hand, you were flattered, and a little turned on by the fact that he wanted you specifically to give him the experience he craved. But another part of you felt hesitant, as if you weren’t one hundred percent sure he knew what he was asking of you. You wanted him to get out there, escape his comfort zone, but you didn’t want him to do it just because you simply suggested it.

Though just as he was growing a bit worried at your silence, you finally spoke, “...Me? You…you want it to be me?” you whispered.

He let out a soft breath, “Well…yeah. I...I really like ya, and...I trust ya.” he admitted, gazing down at you with a certain gentleness in his eyes, “But you know…you don’t gotta if you dont want to. I ain't gonna pressure you or anythin, I just thought I'd...” he trailed off, realizing he was talking far too much.

But you didn’t feel pressured, quite the opposite really. You honestly just couldn’t believe this was actually happening, it was a lot to process, and you hardly knew what to say. Time seemed to be moving incredibly fast and slow at the same time as you stood there, staring at each other with a newfound feeling.

Though just as you were about to open your mouth to speak again, someone popped around the corner and called your name, clearly needing some help. Daryl silently cursed at the interruption, though it was to be expected. He was coming to the conclusion that this was probably the worst time to be having this discussion.

“Sounds like they need ya...” he said softly.

You tilted your head as you didn’t want to go, your expression turning sympathetic, “I’m sorry.” you whispered.

Daryl shrugged it off, “It’s alright.” he said, hesitating for a moment, before reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair back behind your ear. Your eyes widened a little at the gesture, the comfort of his touch, feeling yourself almost leaning into his hand before he took it away too quickly.

“I’ll um…I’ll see ya around, okay?” he said with a nod before turning to head out, not even giving you a chance to respond. 

You were a little shocked at his sudden rush to get away, but at the same time you understood. He must’ve been incredibly embarrassed and ashamed, especially since you hadn’t given him an answer. A part of you wanted to call him back, but you knew better than to do that, knowing he was already too far gone to hear you anyways.

Daryl couldn’t even begin to describe his regret as he walked back home, the distance between his apartment and the infirmary giving him way too much time to think. You didn’t seem completely disgusted, but clearly you weren’t a huge fan of the idea given the look on your face. He knew this was a bad plan from the get go, but he still somehow convinced himself to do it, now wishing he had never opened up his mouth at all. He felt a certain grief wash over him as he could imagine he had ruined whatever relationship he had with you, needing to learn to let it go. 

The remainder of the day passed by in a flash, ending with him taking a long, hot shower in an attempt to ease the tension in his muscles and the thoughts circling his mind. The water sprayed down on him like an element of lava given the harsh temperature, his fingers running through his wettened hair as he rinsed out the soap and bubbles. Perhaps the longer he spent under the running faucet, the more it would make him forget about the embarrassing events of the day. It caused him to wonder what you were thinking at this moment in time, but then again a part of him didn’t want to know.

“Daryl?”

His eyes widened in surprise when he heard the sound of your voice, momentarily considering it to be just his imagination, but the sound of the front door closing with a familiar slam convinced him otherwise. What the hell were you doing here? And with the worst timing in the world.

“Y-Yeah? I’m in the shower.” he called out without thinking, the door being opened a crack and just enough to where he hoped you could hear him.

You fidgeted nervously near the front entrance, hearing his slightly muffled words made you rethink your decision to come over, seeing it clearly wasn’t the best time. “Oh, okay...should I um…should I come back later?”

“No, no,” he quickly called out again, “Just…just gimmie a sec.” he said as he frantically finished up before you had the chance to leave.

With his reassurance in mind, you stayed put as you waited for him, briefly hearing the water shut off after only a few seconds. Your thoughts ran wild as you pondered over the things you wanted to say, having not been able to take your mind off the interaction for your whole shift. It was distracting, nerve racking…but it was also a bit enticing. You had no idea what you were going to say to him, but one thing was for certain, you weren’t about to deny that his request didn’t intrigue you.

The sound of his footsteps approaching is what snapped you out of your thoughts, your eyes widening a fraction as you saw him step into the living room in nothing but a towel. The truth was, he was just far too anxious to hear what you had to say to take the time and put on real clothes. Though now as he stood a few feet from you with just a thin piece of fabric shielding him, he felt a little exposed under your lingering gaze. But you couldn’t bring yourself to look away, his messy hair sticking to the sides of his face and the water droplets that clung to his skin, it truly was a sight to behold.

Had you always looked at him like this? From the moment you met, you always saw him as a close friend and someone you could count on for anything. But now it was like a switch flipped or something, nearly drooling as you saw him in a way you never had before.

“Somethin you need, sweetheart?” Daryl’s voice broke through the silence.

You blinked a few times as you were brought back to the current situation, nodding absentmindedly, “Yeah, uh…I was hoping we could talk.”

He shifted a bit on his feet, subconsciously tugging his towel up a bit, “Bout what?” he asked dumbly. He knew why you were here; he just didn’t know what else to say.

You gave him a look that made him feel stupider than before, “About earlier…” you trailed off after a moment, attempting to find the right words, “Were you…um…did you really mean all that?”

He shrugged, “Yeah…” he breathed, “You really think I didn’t mean what I said?”

“No,” you quickly reassured with a shake of your head, “It’s just…it was all really unexpected, you know? You’ve never done anything like this before, and now all of a sudden, you’re asking me-”

“I know how it looks,” he said as he dared to take another step closer to you, “But…I’ve had these feelings for ya ever since you first knocked on that damn door, alright? It’s new to you but it ain’t new to me.”

Your expression softened as he admitted this wasn’t some spur of the moment thing, not that you thought it was. But his confirmed feelings for you only drew you closer to him, hearing the assertiveness behind every word.

“Look,” he sighed, “Goin down there and askin ya that was me bein a fuckin idiot. I shouldn’t have gone about it like that, hell, maybe I shouldn’t have even asked at all...I don’t know. But I don’t want ya to feel like ya owe me a damn thing, cause ya don’t. If you don’t wanna do this-”

“I want to.”

Daryl paused for a moment when you interrupted him, feeling a bit shocked that you had made your decision just like that. But then again, you did have hours to think it over. Meanwhile he didn’t even have to think twice when it came to you.

“Y-You do?” he asked, not meaning to stutter. He was just thrown off and absolutely floored that someone as breathtaking as you would agree to something like this with him of all people.

You took a breath as you stepped closer to him, leaving just a few inches of space, “Yeah…I really do. Honestly, I’m...pretty flattered.”

He felt a sudden burst of nervousness in his chest as the reality of the situation began to set in for him. You wanted this too. He could easily see how genuine you were being as you moved to be closer to him.

Clearing his throat gruffly, he spoke again a bit quieter, “Yer flattered?” he couldn’t help but chuckle, “Ya don’t even know the half of it.”

You smiled a little, sensing both his eagerness and unease which you seemed to find charming, “It’s just me.” you reminded.

He nodded quickly, “Yeah, yeah I know…” he said as he hesitantly rested his hands upon your arms, as if to help steady himself. “I just…I don’t know what m’ doin.” he admitted a bit sheepishly.

“I know,” you reassured, “I’ll show you…you trust me?”

He nodded again, his heart beating rapidly against his ribcage as he grew more anxious by the second. Not because of her, but because of the unknown. But it was clear he was in good hands. “I trust you.”

With his simple nod of approval, you reached up to gently grasp the back of his neck, before pulling him down to meet you halfway where your lips clashed together. He gasped quietly against your mouth, the softness of your lips already addicting as his hands instinctively squeezed your arms, wanting to keep himself grounded. The taste of you was better than he ever could’ve imagined, heavenly, unreal…but what else did he expect from someone as perfect as you? As the kiss deepened, you slowly coaxed his mouth open so you could slip in your tongue, his groan in response to you only encouraged you to keep going. His kiss was hesitant and a bit sloppy, though you couldn’t help but love it.

Your free hand moved up to his wrist, guiding his hand down toward your hip as if silently encouraging him to touch you. Daryl received the message loud and clear, but he was still a bit clueless when it came to how, slowly allowing his hand to roam the curve of your back blindly. He then pulled you a bit closer to him, wanting to feel every part of you against his skin. But with his swift movement, caused his towel to nearly slip all the way off his waist, feeling him quickly grab it before it had the chance to hit the ground. 

He cursed quietly as he pulled away from your mouth, his breathing coming out in short, harsh pants as he grew a bit flushed at the idea of being completely naked in front of you. You allowed him to collect himself for as long as he needed, noticing the red that dusted his cheeks, but you still didn’t miss the blatant lust that filled his eyes.

Your hand reached up to gently brush some hair away from his face, “You don’t have to be embarrassed around me.” you spoke so softly, so patiently, leaving a few kisses on his cheek as if to help ease him.

He sighed shakily, trying to gather himself as his eyes fluttered closed for a moment at the feel of your touch, “I know, just…never been this exposed in front of anyone before.”

“I know,” you assured again, your mouth traveling to gently nip at his earlobe, “How about we move to your room? And you can take it off when you’re ready.”

Daryl hissed softly as your teeth grazed his ear, nodding frantically at your suggestion, “Okay…yeah.” he said breathlessly before taking your hand to guide you back down the hallway.

In a flash he had taken you into his room, shutting and locking the door behind the two of you before you gestured for him to sit down on the edge of his bed. He followed your suggestion without saying a word, willing to do just about anything you wanted right now with how incredibly turned on he was. Though he was extremely nervous, he couldn’t deny how badly he wanted you, how many times he had imagined himself in situations much like this one. Completely at your mercy.

His eyes followed your movements as you came to stand in between his legs, cupping his face to angle it up toward you. “Just relax.” you whispered before slowly kissing him again with a little more force than before.

This time he couldn’t stop the moan that bubbled up in his throat, feeling the smoothness of your skin on his aging cheeks, his body physically shuttering. His hands reached out to pull you closer to his bare chest, wanting your body flush against him as his touch seemed to roam a bit more confidently. You felt his hands travel down to squeeze your ass, groaning into your mouth as your tongue invaded his mouth to taste him again. At this point he couldn’t help but wonder if this was a dream, or some kind of sick hallucination, his mind tricking his body that this was actually happening with how fast they seemed to move. But he honestly couldn’t bring himself to care right now.

You smiled against his lips as he gently groped your ass, your hands moving up towards his hair to give the roots a gentle tug as your mouths worked frantically. A shiver ran down his spine, the action making his head spin. You were so good with him, so gentle yet so firm as well. He couldn’t stop himself from breaking away from your mouth briefly, his lips moving down your neck as if he wanted to trace and memorize every last bit of your skin.

You sighed softly as your head instinctively tilted back for him, “You sure you’re a virgin? You seem pretty good at this.” you teased lightheartedly.

Chuckling against your skin, he took his time to kiss the underside of your jaw a few times before responding roughly, “Just have a good imagination is all…”

“You’ve thought about this before?”

He nodded a bit timidly against your neck, growing a bit shy at the admission, “A lot, actually…”

A smile broke out onto your face as you looked down at him, “Well, now I’m even more flattered.”

He groaned in slight embarrassment as he buried his face in the side of your neck, the words just slipping out without him being able to stop. His mind was too far in the clouds to realize fully, the lingering effects of the weed he had smoked making his mind a bit hazier. But he desperately wanted to remember every little detail, his hands trailing down toward your thighs as if he was itching to memorize your body.

“Here...” you then spoke again, moving his hands up toward the buttons of your blouse, “Help me out.”

Daryl looked back up at you with slightly widened eyes, swallowing thickly as he gave a shaky nod, beginning to undo them one by one. His calloused hands, though rough, couldn’t have been more gentle when it came to touching you. He treated every part of your skin like it was delicate glass, a piece of art to admire, as he almost didn’t feel worthy of being in this position. How could he have gotten so lucky when this was the last thing he thought he deserved.

“Keep going,” you encouraged when you felt your top fall to the floor, feeling his hands hesitantly move to unzip your skirt.

The piece of fabric slowly slid down your smooth legs and bunched at your feet, leaving you in practically nothing as you believed bras were a waste of time and effort to wear. His eyes took in every inch of you, mentally trying to capture this moment as he was already reluctant for it to end. And yet it hardly even started.

“You’re so beautiful…” he whispered as his hands reached out to touch you again, his face filled with desperation.

You smiled as you looked down at him, “Yeah?”

He nodded instantly, “Yeah…I can’t believe this is actually happening.”

A laugh escaped your lips as you leaned down to be aligned with his face, “We haven’t even gotten to the good part yet.” you said sweetly before leaving a kiss on his cheek.

Daryl let out a breath as you kissed his cheek, the reminder that this was far from over was almost reassuring. His growing need and want was beginning to be unbearable, his hands gripping your thighs a bit tighter as he felt his erection start to ache.

“You wanna take that off for me?”

Upon hearing your request, the gesture of your hand that pointed toward the towel still around his hips, he grew a bit anxious. It was no secret that he was a bit insecure with the way he looked, he was older, his hair and beard a bit graying, his skin worn and scarred. He knew he was about to be fully vulnerable with you, that being both a good and a bad thing. He did trust you, but he just hoped you liked how he looked despite the fact that he didn’t.

It took a moment for him to build up the courage, to which you were incredibly patient, before he finally pulled the towel off of him, leaving him completely bare in front of you. But your reaction was far from a negative one. Your eyes widened a little as you took him in, not being able to see his flaws he was so worried about as you were solely focused on how breathtaking he looked. His arms could’ve been sculpted by gods, his toned chest rising and falling with every heaving breath, and as your gaze traveled south, you were shocked at the bragging rights he seemed to hold. 

But the thing you wanted him to know the most, was that he was just as perfect to you as you were to him.

Though seeing his pleading expression seemed to stir something inside you, quickly slipping off your thong before stepping forward to straddle his hips in a fit of impatience. His eyes widened at your fast actions, but he wasn’t about to complain, his hands immediately going to your hips to hold to in place as he loved the feel of your skin against his. He didn’t know what to do now exactly, but he did know that he wanted more of you.

“You’re so handsome.” you praised, your mouth coming down to suck softly on the side of his neck. "So perfect for me."

A small gasp escaped him at your praise, your mouth working against his skin caused him to nearly melt beneath you. He had been called a lot of things in his life, but handsome and perfect were never one of them. It was new, different…and he loved it. He soaked up everything he could like a sponge, wanting to ravish in your touch forever. But when he felt you begin to rock against him, stroking his length with every pass of your hips, he couldn’t help the strangled moan he dared to let out. His hips instinctively bucked up against you in return, unable to help himself as he craved more than what you were giving him. All he could feel was his heart racing, his skin burning up, and his dick twitching as he physically needed more. His face nuzzled in the side of your neck, breathing you in as shivers of pleasure ran through him like currents of electricity.

You hummed, “You like that?” you asked, your mouth hovering over the shell of his ear where your teeth grazed his sensitive skin.

Daryl nodded his head frantically against you, losing himself in the lust he had never felt before in his entire life, “Yes…yes, I like it.” he stuttered out desperately, gripping onto you as a signal not to stop anytime soon.

He had never felt so good, the rhythm mixed with your kisses and taunting praise, he felt he could’ve imploded right then and there. He wanted more, his body craved more of you, but he didn’t know how to ask for it. His breathing was ragged at this point as he tried to hold himself back, his face still hidden in the crook of your neck as his lips began to place soft kisses against your skin. But as your pace grew more tortuous and slow, he couldn’t help but writhe and moan beneath you, not being able to take much more of your teasing.

You felt him pull back to look up at you, a distressed look painting his face, “Please.” he nearly whined. It was a tone you had never heard from him before, finding that you loved the way he was falling apart for you.

“Please what, honey?” you asked sweetly as if you didn’t already know, cupping the sides of his face, “Tell me what you want.”

A soft whimper escaped him in your agony, knowing damn well you knew what he meant. He looked up at you pleadingly, the smooth skin of your hands on his face feeling so good, but not good enough. “You…” he whispered needily, “I want you…please.” he begged.

Whilst he was beneath you, whimpering and pleading for you to fuck him, you on the other hand learned something new about yourself. The scene that played before you was something sinful, but you loved it far too much to feel even a little bit guilty. The burly man you had come to know as tough and stoic, just whimpered because of you. And for that, you had no choice but to give him what he so desperately needed.

In an instant you slowly sunk down onto his length, the size of him causing a moan of your own to escape through parted lips. Though Daryl on the other hand groaned loudly as he felt your tight walls enveloping him, his head falling back as he bit his lower lip in an attempt to silence the noises you threatened to pull from him with one simple move. It felt like he had just walked through the pearly gates of heaven, the feeling so surreal and pleasurable he couldn’t help but let it cross his mind.

As you adjusted to him, you looked down and studied his face, his brow already lined with sweat and his expression one of pure bliss. “You look so good like this.” you whispered, your finger gently tracing his jawline.

He wanted to scoff at your comment, thinking that he no doubt looked like a mess in front of you, but he couldn’t help but feel prideful at the thought of you loving it. It made him feel good, perhaps more confident even though he was fully flushed and exposed.

Though as he felt you begin to move, his eyes rolled to the back of his head and a low moan left him in response, feeling the heat in his stomach already beginning to build. His hands moved from your hips down to your thighs as if to encourage you to keep going, giving them a firm squeeze as he panted to try and catch his breath. He felt as if he were going insane with the waves of pleasure washing down upon him, the feeling like no other as he knew he was a goner from the moment you agreed. His head was spinning though he tried to concentrate, not wanting it to ever come to an end as he watched you steadily pick up the pace from above him.

His mind was lost on him as your movements quickened skillfully, his hips pathetically trying to match your pace though he was failing miserably. But he didn’t care. It felt too good to care. His fingers nearly dug into the soft skin of your thighs as he whimpered and squirmed, feeling himself already starting to chase his high. He felt a little embarrassed that it had taken him close to nothing to reach his peak, but then again, he couldn’t bring himself to tell you to stop.

Daryl grew desperate to say something, to warn you that he was getting more and more overwhelmed with the feeling of ecstasy, though he wasn’t able to form any coherent sentence. All that managed to come out were pathetic whines and moans as he desperately tried to pound into you, looking up at you with widened eyes in hopes you would get the message.

And you did. You understood completely. With a simple kiss on his lips and encouraging words, you let him know that it was okay. “I know, honey, I know.” you said sweetly, “Let go for me.”

He whimpered against you lips when you kissed him, hearing your words made him feel a bit more at ease as he felt himself just on the brink of losing all control he had left. But he couldn’t help the way you were making him feel. With his mind beginning to cloud and the desperate movements he made, he finally felt himself release deep inside you, burying his face in your neck as he came. You slowed down your pace a bit as you guided him through his high, trying to make it last as long as possible for him as he just gripped and thrusted into you harder. Near sobs began spilling from his lips as he clung onto your limbs, his chest rising and falling with labored breaths as his body was practically vibrating.

He hadn't meant to be this much of a mess, completely falling apart from underneath you as he chased his high so desperately. But with how unbelievable you made him feel, it was like he had no control over the noises he made t or the emotions he felt. Like you had complete control. And he loved it more than he was willing to admit.

It took him a while to come back down to earth, but you waited patiently the whole time, running your fingers through his tangled mess of hair as he collected his hazy thoughts. Though he couldn’t help but feel a bit ashamed and a bit vulnerable, knowing he didn’t last as long as he would’ve hoped. When he finally gathered the courage to look you in the eye, he feared your reaction, as if he expected you to regret what just happened.

But instead you smiled, “You okay?” you asked gently.

All he managed was a small nod in response, letting out a breath as it was clear you weren’t upset in the slightest. But as his mind wandered a bit, he began to feel selfish, realizing he couldn’t make you feel as good as you made him feel. Leaving him overthinking the things he could’ve done differently.

“I’m sorry.” he then whispered gravely.

Your brows furrowed a little in concern, “For what?”

He blushed a bit with embarrassment, almost not wanting to explain his reasoning for speaking up in the first place. But your gaze remained expectant, and he knew he should answer. “For not…makin ya feel good.” he said sheepishly.

“Hey…” you said softly as you titled his head up to look at you, “You did make me feel good.”

The truth was you enjoyed yourself, even if you didn’t finish, you didn’t care. He was still new at this, and that wasn’t something you were about to shame him for.

He grew a little surprised at your admission, “But…you didn’t…” he trailed off, almost not wanting to say it out loud.

You smiled a little at his lack of words, “It was your first time, Daryl. Don’t be so hard on yourself.” you said, kissing his cheek reassuringly.

He sighed, “I know…but I wanna make ya feel good too.” he tried to explain.

“You will,” you nodded, “Practice makes perfect, right?” you said with a small wink.

He perked right up at that, the idea of doing this again with you hadn’t even crossed his mind. He assumed it would only be a one time thing, but hearing you say that sent a spark of excitement through him.

“So…there’ll be a next time?” he asked, trying to hide his hopefulness.

You laughed softly, “Only if you want there to be.”

He quickly nodded, he would have to be an absolute fool to say no to something like that. “Course I do…I want ya…as many times as you’ll let me have ya.”

Your smile widened as you leaned in to kiss him, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck to bring him flush against you. He groaned softly as his hands danced across your back, suddenly feeling very grateful. He almost couldn’t believe someone as kind and understanding would actually want him, but he couldn’t bring himself to question it for very long. Just simply wanting to live in the moment and not take it for granted.

“Wanna go again?” you asked against his lips.

“Mhm.” he hummed immediately as he deepened the kiss, his response not having any hint of hesitation. It made you laugh softly, feeling him already getting excited all over again. It was safe to say it was going to be an eventful night.

~ Thanks for reading!

[only-1-a]

Imagining this within the first week of Charles and Edwin knowing each other. Charles has helped Edwin catch up on a BIT of what’s happened in the last 70 years, but Edwin can tell that Charles’ knowledge and strengths are not in history (finding out there was an even worse world war right after The Great War was certainly horrific though). So Edwin decides his best bet is to look in the public archives. Charles is sitting in the room with him absolutely bored out of his skull when he comments “Wow, you weren’t joking about not being great at people, were you?”

To which Edwin’s patience runs out, and he snidely responds, “Evidently not. If my researching the events of the last seventy years is so off-putting to you, then you can leave.”

Edwin was expecting some kind of token protest, but instead Charles just hops up, and says, “Cheers mate. See you.” Then LEAVES. Just like that. Edwin would like to be offended, but he supposes he did tell Charles to go. He just thought there would have been more to it than that? It almost feels…anticlimactic. At least he and Charles barely knew each other. Better to cut their losses now than get attached. Even as he thinks it he can’t help but feel maybe he was already growing attached.

So he spends the whole day digging through the archive and he learns so much about the past half century. It’s amazing and daunting just how much as changed. No wonder Charles hadn’t been able to go over even a fraction of it. It’s like the world is a completely different place.

He’s engrossed in his research when a head pops in through the door, and violently startles him with a cheerful, “Hey mate!” Edwin doesn’t have a heartbeat, but if he did it would be running a mile a minute from that fright. Charles is just grinning as he walks through the door. “I have to say, that’s my favourite part of being dead so far. I can just walk through walls.” Charles continues to chat happily, completely oblivious to Edwin’s shock.

Eventually Edwin gains enough of his senses back to interrupt Charles and say, “You came back.”

Charles just cocks his head, but he’s still smiling. “Yeah bruv. You’ve been here ALL DAY. The sun’s started going down. I know we don’t need to eat or sleep, but I figure you should take a break. Plus all the people playing football at the park left, so I got bored.”

Edwin doesn’t quite know what to say to that. He’s still working on the fact Charles came back. Charles hadn’t planned on leaving in any permanent way. He just went to do his own thing while Edwin did his. Yet instead of anything intelligent coming out of his mouth, he says “Football?”

“Oh c’mon! I know you had football even a thousand years ago. Yeah, I went to play with some other guys at the park across the street.”

Edwin snorts at that, and isn’t that a strange and wonderful feeling, laughing after all this time. He doesn’t even know if he did it often before he went to Hell, but here Charles has been making him laugh on and off for the week they’ve known each other. “Yes, we had football. You’ll have to explain how you managed to play a team sport without being seen by either team. You are right though. If it’s getting dark out, they’ll be turning the lights out in here soon. We might as well leave for the day.”

“Cheers. Mostly it involved messing with the ball so it went the wrong way when they kicked it. Oh! I kicked one over a fence. Do you think we can go grab it? How about your day? Learn anything exciting?”

Edwin leads them out, and now in a much better mood he shares something he thinks Charles will enjoy. “As a matter of fact, there was quite a lot about how music evolved, and styles from the Americas really took off since the 20s.”

[fortheloveoffanfic]

Anywhere That You Are

Hozier x fem!reader

Author's note: Inspired by that picture (as seen below), my new favorite song (That You Are) and an idea sent in via asks.

Summary: A scene of Y/n and Andrew enjoying their vacation in a secluded spot in the mountains of Italy.

Warnings: NSFW/SMUT, semi-public sex (sort of?), so much fluff.

They’d bickered for a while over where to go. She wanted somewhere quiet and secluded – because after two entire years of sharing her man with the world, Y/n wants him to herself. Andrew, on the other hand, had simply requested somewhere near water – the beach, a lake, a pool, anything he could swim in. So they met in the middle; two weeks in a rustic, little one bedroom cottage tucked away in the mountains of Italy, within walking distance of a vast, jewel toned lake. The house is perched on a jagged hill, overlooking the serene landscape, and sunsets wash the area in a gentle, golden glow. They’ve witnessed three so far, and each one has been nothing short of magnificent – though Andrew has argued that there’s at least one view that he appreciates much more.

Her, standing on the open porch, wearing nothing but his shirt as that warm light hits her face, making it seem like she’s glowing. Like something ethereal; an angel on earth sent just for him. Or even better, his own, personal heaven.

He’s thinking about that as he sits there, in one of the two wicker chairs with an acoustic guitar propped in his lap, fingers absently grazing the delicate strings. At first, he isn’t playing anything in particular. Andrew’s eyes are trained forward, taking in the view of rolling hills and aged trees while his mind strays to the thought of his love, just past the window behind him, moving around in their rental’s charmingly quaint kitchen. Humming softly as she fills the kettle, moving around fluidly as she takes it to the stove before prepping a pair of matching mugs out of the small cupboard over the wooden counter as it boils. She’ll fill up the mugs at the end of the process, and bring them out, all without spilling even a drop – because she’s more graceful that Andrew could ever dream to be.

Because if he is a perilously tall stack of china plates, just waiting for a breeze in the right – or wrong – direction to end in a clumsy disaster, then she is silk, moving freely through calm water.

As thoughts of Y/n take shape, Andrew finds himself playing the notes of a familiar tune, humming along to it as he does. A wedding present, written with a new friend for someone he loves so dearly, and so deeply, that even the most beautiful words, tied together with threads of gold, could only express a fraction of what he feels. But she’d loved it, and that was what had mattered most to him. Because if she loves it, then chances are, she knows.

She knows that if he had his way, they would be together – always. No oceans would separate them for months on end. There wouldn’t be months between kisses and neither of them would endure the heartache of seeing that other on screens without being able to touch even the barest tips of their fingers. No bed would stay half cold, and no terrible joke will be told through text. They’d go on walks every evening with fingers laced and her head leaned on his arm.

He would be anywhere – and everywhere – that she is. Because he always finds that he makes a bit more sense when Y/n is around.

So lost in the inner workings of his mind, Andrew completely misses the whistle of the kettle, the subsequent clinking of a metal spoon against the ceramic and finally, the tell-tale creak of the front door. He’s only pulled out of his thoughts when Y/n sets the pair of mugs down on the small, round table between the two chairs and comes to stand behind him. Her hands begin at his shoulders, spending a brief moment messaging them before sliding forward, fingers sprawled on his chest.

“What’s on your mind, huh?” Y/n probs, bring her lips to his cheek in a much-too-short peck.

Freeing one of his hands, Andrew places it over hers. “You,” he offers softly, shifting his head to meet her lips.

“Mm, yeah?” She smiles, “now, why would you think about me when I’m right here.”

“Because,” he tips his head so their noses are touching, “you’re my favorite thing to think about.”

Y/n giggles again, walking around until she’s in front of him. Andrew allows her relieve him of the guitar, watching as she carefully lays in in the vacant chair before climbing into his lap, her legs astride his thighs. “That’s all?” She pouts dramatically, “just think about.”

Chuckling, his hands find her hips, clothed in a gray t-shirt stolen from his suitcase – not that he’s complaining, his clothes look much better on her anyway. “Not just think,” he promises, catching her mouth.

“Yeah?” Her arms go around his neck as she melts into his chest, words escaping through their tangled lips, “what else?”

“Favorite person to kiss,” his lips travel along her jaw, and then down her neck, where he presses his nose to the warm skin near her pulse, “favorite smell,” he nips at her throat, leaving little, telling bruises, “favorite person to do this with,” and then, as of to examine his work, or just freshen the image of her in his mind, Andrew pulls away, broad grin splitting his cheeks. “Favorite person to see wearing my clothes.”

She is really just his favorite everything.

“Our clothes,” Y/n corrects pointedly.

“Oh, of course darlin’,” he plays along with a chuckle.

“I’m glad we’re here,” she says suddenly and the mood sobers a bit. A soft smile still plays at her lips, but there’s a twinkle in her eyes that are indicative of those private moments where one of them says something that is only meant for the other. A surge of emotion pools in her chest, and there’s a lump in her throat. It doesn’t matter how long they’ve been together – five minutes or ten years – it isn’t the distance that makes her heart grow fonder, its the moments spent in their own little bubble. When he’s close enough for her to throw her arms around his neck or lay her head in his lap. When the sound of his voice isn’t skewed by the speaker of her phone.

When she can open a door and find him on the other side of it.

Those are the moments that make her heart swell so much that Y/n thinks it may burst out of her chest. They are the ones that remind Y/n of how much she loves him, only because he’s him. There isn’t another person in the world that could rouse such an intense feeling within her, or even a fraction of the certainty she feels it with.

Lifting his hand to the side of her face, Andrew mirrors her expression. “So am I,” he returns with the same ease, “you have no idea how much I’ve missed it just being the two of us.”

Y/n huffs a chuckle and leans in conspiringly, her forehead pressed to his while his thumb caresses the apple of her cheek, “I’m willing to bet I do.”

Still cupping her cheek, Andrew tilts his head and closes his mouth in over hers again. His other hand, the one on her hip, searches blindly for the hem of the t-shirt. “We’re outside,” Y/n’s mumbled admonishment melts against his lips when he flattens his palm on her upper thigh, gradually inching it upwards.

“Just us up here,” Andrew returns, then adds, “do you wanna go inside?”

Clumsily, she undoes the plastic buttons at the top of his shirt, “not really,” Y/n’s hands slip into the top of his flannel shirt, fingers dancing along his skin, leaving sparks in their wake. “God, I love this shirt on you.”

“I’d like this off you,” he starts lifting the oversized t-shirt over her head, not caring where it falls when he tosses it off to the side. She isn’t wearing much under it, just her underwear, and Andrew’s eyes fall to her unrestrained breasts after discarding the t-shirt. His gaze is steady as he trails the tips of his fingers up her spine, and its more his feather-light touch than the temperate evening air that causes the dusting of goosebumps along her exposed skin. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he rasps, and Y/n feels her cheeks warm under his stare; a heady combination of tenderness and longing darkening his eyes.

There’s something about the way Andrew looks at her – and just looks – that never fails to rouse a sensation in the pit of her stomach. A warmth that she’s never really associated with sex; its more like the warmth of a hearth, reaching upwards. Embers spreading to the most hidden parts of her body. It's gentle, and comforting. It's not the rush of being desired, but the peace that comes with being wanted.

Its not fast and explosive. It doesn’t fizzle out when they’re spent.

It stands up against time, steadfast and true.

Andrew looks at her, and Y/n doesn't feel as if he's forgotten that there are other women in the world. Instead, she knows that of all of them, he will only ever choose her – want her.

“I love the way you look at me,” she whispers, still loosely clutching his shoulders as she leans forward.

Andrew’s grin broadens and he flattens his hand on the center of her back, “well, I love looking at you,” he returns in the same, hushed tone. A sound between a delighted chuckle and a hum of contentment falls onto his lips from hers. He tastes of the beer he’d taken out with him earlier, and something subtly sweet that makes her toes curl.

In a sequence of clumsy, fumbled movements, Y/n lifts herself off Andrew’s lap for long enough for him to tug her underwear down, and get it of one leg before they hastily undo the button and zipper of his jeans so they can shove them down to the middle of his thighs. A fit of laughter erupts from her throat, at some point during the jumbled mess of movements, and as she throws her head back, he laughs too, rendering their attempts efforts even more maladroit

It probably doesn't look like they’re in a movie, or even particularly sensual. But its the one of the things he misses the most when they’re apart. Not the act itself but the being with her like that; when they’re so caught up in how it feels that nothing else matters. Bodies in awkward positions or a stray comment that has nothing to do with anything at all, none of it matters because he's with the one person that it all makes sense with.

When Y/n sinks down onto him, her lewd moan is cast into the crook of his neck, and Andrew lolls his head to the side, pressing his cheek to her hair, the fruity fragrance of her shampoo flooding his senses. “God,” he rasps, reveling in the way she feels wrapped so tightly around him.

“Just like that,” he encourages, gentle grip on her hips guiding Y/n into steady pace. Rocking her hips against his in pronounced, languid motions, her back arches slightly, creating in a balletic curve. She looks much like art, Andrew thinks.

Just like that, so simple and unhampered. With a couple stray strands falling over her face and her head thrown back. Practically melting in his hands. Through his hazy, lust-blurred vision, he sees the most beautiful person he’s ever known transform into something that can only be other-worldly. Every bit of her has been carved by the gods with the purpose of being the truest personification of beauty.

What must he have done in some other life to be afforded the privilege of her company?

It's really the tangible that’s keeping him grounded; reminding him that he’s real enough to share that moment with her. The warmth of her silken skin under his rough fingers, the clench of her core around him, the tips of her fingers sunken into his shoulders.

The pressure of Y/n’s forehead against his, the heat of her breath when she ellicts his name in a husky moan. “God, Andrew,” there’s a waning smile tugging at her lips as she quickens ever so slightly. His hips buck to meet hers, and every time they connect in a heady, jerked movement, her breath hitches audibly.

God, he loves that sound. That little, whined, “uh.”

Y/n’s fingers curl into his shoulders as her thighs start burning, a direct result of Andrew’s light wash jeans rhythmically rubbing against her skin. That fiery friction coupled with the usual tingle that accompanies being stretched around him is enough to run her breaths shallow and ragged. There’s a light sheen gathered on his forehead when she presses hers to it, and from that angle, Y/n swears she can feel him in her stomach.

Vaguely, she registers when Andrew moves one hand from her waist, bringing his thumb to her sensitive bundle of nerves, while he lowers his head to press his mouth to the swell of her breath. Curling her toes at the new sensations, one of Y/n’s hands slide out from under his shirt and reaches for the back of his head, fingers tangling in his hair, disturbing his haphazard bun. Andrew's tongue flicking at the top of her breast, incits the most thrilling sensation in the pit of her stomach, and the way he's working her nub is dizzying; the combination quickly guiding Y/n to the cusp of release.

“I need to feel you,” Andrew grits, edges of his teeth dragging along the ample flesh. “Let me feel you,” he pleads urgently, the upward motions of his pelvis growing erratic as he tries to prompt Y/n to quicken her pace. “Come’on sweetheart,” he encourages, tone low and dry.

"Andy….Andy….” Y/n yelps, crescent-shaped nails grazing his scalp as her legs start stiffening.

“That’s it, darling” he entices, thumb working on her numb more vigorously now. Andrew needs to feel her squeeze him; like she’s putting every stray part back into its place. He’s aching for the kind of release that only Y/n can bring, the kind that empties his mind completely and leaves him seeing stars for the next few minutes.

Twin kaleidoscopes are painted onto her shut lids as it happens, and Y/n can’t help but blurt out a string of cried praises muddled in with the obscene repetition of his name. A sinful prayer shared between lovers. Her legs, no longer able to support her own weight, become jello and Y/n struggles to keep moving through the cloud of her release.

“Fuck,” Andrew heaves, lifting his head as Y/n quakes around him. His breathing is heavy as he follows along, mind now far too tattered to properly enjoy the way she looks when she’s completely in ruins. So instead, Andrew hastily pulls his hand from her center and cradles the back of Y/n’s head, pulling her towards him so he can crush his lips to hers, the fervor of their kiss matching the thick warmth swirling around them.

That gorgeous scenery that they’ve been enjoying over the past few days – trees that soar towards the dimming sky, the bellies of green hills and the occasional burst of colour owed to wildflowers, all dusted by that golden evening hue – blurs around them, completely forgotten.

Even as they come down from the very top of it, Andrew’s breathing remains heavy, and he can feel Y/n’s heart pounding against her ribs.

“Jesus,” Y/n suspires when they break, shoulders slumping. Andrew chuckles briefly at her exclamation before sagging against the back of the chair, throwing his head back so he can stare up – but not really – at the ceiling. Looking down at herself, Y/n can’t help but feel the heat return to her cheeks upon noticing that she’s completely unclad. He’s seen her like that maybe a hundred times by now, if not more, but there’s always the tiniest bit of self-consciousness that sneaks up on her when he’s completely dressed and she’s….well, not

Abashed, Y/n throws herself against his chest and buries her face in the side of his neck. Andrew can feel her smile on his skin, and the way her fame shakes slightly with bashful giggles. “What?” He smiles, one hand settled on the small of her back while the other reaches for the side of her face, urging Y/n to look at him.

“You're still wearing all your clothes,” she giggles, tugging her lower lip between her teeth as she meets his gaze.

Briefly, Andrew glances down at himself; the first four buttons of his shirt are open, and his pants have made it to the middle of his thighs, but otherwise he’s still entirely clothed. “Shit, yeah,” he laughs softly. “Tell you what,” he meets her lips in a punctuating kiss, “gimme ten minutes, and then we’ll fix that.”

[kings-highway]

haikyuu ships but its really soft fluffy kiss edition. basically tooth-rottingly sweet ficlets.

daisuga: it is the peak of summer, and theyve been at the beach all day and there's sand everywhere, and they're sunburnt and exhausted. Half the team has gone off to find a place for dinner, the other half is asleep under umbrellas. Suga and Daichi are sitting a ways away, toes in the water, popsicles melting rapidly. Suga has been laying his cheek on Daichi's shoulder for a while - he's sleepy and he never wants this day to end. So he turns his head, lazy and giggly and kisses a soft line across his shoulder, up to his neck. And Daichi smiles and laughs and asks what he's doing but Suga just shrugs and tells him its nothing, he's just really, really happy.

iwaoi: they work really hard and everyone knows it but Oikawa is always going to take losing really hard. Some days harder than others. On a particularly bad day, Oikawa is crying and curled up on his bed and he's been ranting about how mad he is but Iwa knows that anger is mostly directed at himself. So when Oikawa finally takes a breath, and Iwa stands up to go get something for dinner, because he knows Oikawa will forget until real late otherwise, he stops before the door, and turns back, and takes Oikawa's head in his hands, holding him delicately, and leans down to kiss his forehead, letting it linger far longer than he had planned. And Oikawa is still crying but Iwaizumi mumbles that it'll all be okay, and he can't help but nod along with him, and maybe he even starts to believe it.

ushiten: tendou takes pride in his position on the team, and always commits to his blocks, which means during practice it's not uncommon for him to get his fingers jammed trying to block Ushiwaka. It hurts more than usual this time, the nail having torn up a bit at a bad angle. Ushijima feels terrible, and excuses himself to help, apologizing over and over and over again as they sit on the bench, and he helps him wrap the tip of his finger to keep it protected. Then, when he's finished with the tape, holding Tendou's hand oh-so-delicately, he lifts it up to press the softest, most careful kiss to his finger. Tendou absolutely melts, incoherantly stumbling over trying to say he accepts his apology with the most pathetic, lovestruck expression.

arankita: its over spring break, they've been out a lot with the twins and Suna and each other, really making the most of their last year of high school, and they keep promising to make time to just hang out together, and it just does not work, but the spring is so lively and fun they cant be mad. They go with the team to a theme park, and Aran really wants a chance to get Kita alone and maybe tell him how he feels. The whole day passes, though, and they never do, and eventually theyre saying goodbye. And Aran thinks all is lost, but Kita pulls him back, and pulls him down, and kisses him just an inch from his lips, soft and warm and lingering, and he pulls back slowly but keeps a hand on his jacket, and thanks him for always being there. And they definitely shouldnt invite the team next time.

kagehina: they spend their free day out in a grassy field in a park, tossing a volleyball around because neither of them can ever get enough. But they do need to take breaks, to catch their breath and drink water. Kageyama sits down on the grass and sips from his bottle and watches the bugs that are flitting about. One thing turns to another, and what was just a water break turns into a long rest, laying in the sun together and laughing over every stupid thing. When Kageyama catches Hinata staring at him, he tries to act annoyed and wave him off, but Hinata is fast, and leans forward to kiss the tip of Kageyama's nose before laughing and bouncing back to his feet to say that its time to get back to the game. Kageyama turns pink, grabbing at his nose as if offended, but he cannot help but smile back.

[triangle-dog]

TW pet death

(Not one of mine, don't worry. You won't miss anything if you skip this post.)

I will always and forever be a collar and tags person (or, look, if you are really concerned about strangulation then a harness & tags person or a breakaway collar or whatever). Microchips are great, all my beasts are microchiped, but if one of them gets out I want to be able to find them and bring them home no matter what has happened to them.

Two years ago, almost exactly I think, friends and I were three miles into a beautiful autumn hike with the dogs. The leaves were turning, the wildlife was active, and there was a crisp breeze. We rounded a corner and immediately saw a body floating out on the lake, a dog, its long black fur drifting back and forth in the small waves. After some deliberation on what to do, and if it was safe, I waded out to the dog while the others in the party held our dogs way back from the lake in case the water was bad. He wasn't that far out really, but it felt like it took forever to get there because I was fervently hoping he'd have tags. I could actually feel the relief wash over me when I got there and saw patches of blue collar peeking out between the drifting fur.

I towed him into the shallows by the collar. I'm the most familiar with bodies, which is why I was the one who went out to him, and I know that they age differently in the water but by my judgment he'd died farily recently - less than a day ago. When he's in close enough to shore that I don't think he'll drift away any time soon, I unclip his collar and return to the group. We sit down and strategize for a few minutes. How do you make a call like that without raising their hopes? (Answer: you can't - just the phone ringing will be enough).

"I'm very sorry," I say, "but I found a dog in the lake and I thought you would want to know." She tells me she was half expecting a call like this, that the gate didn't latch correctly and both dogs got out but only one came home. She tells me that they were so worried he wouldn't be able to find his way home in the storm last night. She tells me he was very old, that his mind had been going for awhile now. She tells me that most of his life, until the last few years as his body became less able to manage the walk, they would come down to a beach near here and that he loved to swim. She tells me she hopes he at least got to relive those memories for a bit before he went.

I give her the coordinates, it's not too far from a road if you bushwhack - certainly less than the 3mi we did, and tell her we'll bring him to shore. I pick him up out of the shallows, he feels frail, yet he's so so heavy from the weight of the water in his fur. He's much smaller than Nova, yet lifting Nova has never felt like that. I lay him gently on the rocky beach in what I hope is a natural looking, less-traumatizing-to-the-kids position. I clip his collar back on, with the fur no longer drifting around in the water obscuring it, you can now see the little tag saying "Poochie" on the front. We head back the way we came. That was walk enough for all of us, it would feel wrong to seek a different ending, and it was an out and back trail anyway.

Ever since then, every dead cat or dog I see reminds me of those lakeside discussions. We are all overly dedicated animal people, we're fully aware of microchips and all of our own pets are microchiped, but carrying a waterlogged body 3mi to the car to drive it to the vet's office was just not feasible - I don't think it would occur to most people that that was even an option. Even if they did think of it, most people would be opposed to putting a dead animal in their vehicle. I'm just gonna make it easy on people and put my phone number on my animals.

(Sorry, that post was so much longer than it needed to be, but my brain must have recorded that experience in a different kind of memory than usual because it is so so clear and comes all as a set like that so that's what you got too)

TLDR: OP found a dead dog once and has big feelings about it. Put collars/etc. on your pets

[vodika-vibes]

Hey Vodika!

I hope you're feeling better. I don't know if you accept requests, but I'll leave this here. Could I ask for a story with Commander Neyo? The situation would be that Neyo is eavesdropping on her S/O's conversation with her friends. He hears her friends say that she should break up with Neyo because he is a harsh, cold, uncaring clone and that she will not be happy with him. Neyo hears this and is devastated. He knows he may not be the best when it comes to feelings, but he loves his S/O. His S/O finds him and learns that Neyo overheard the conversation. That's why she wants to do everything to prove to him that she loves him and wants to be with him no matter what. 💓

Take care of yourself!

People Who Matter

Summary: Neyo overhears a conversation between his cyare and her friends after returning home from a long deployment.

Pairing: Commander Neyo x F!Reader

Word Count: 1082

Warnings: Toxic friends

A/N: Hi there! I do take requests almost constantly, even if it might take a bit for me to get to your request! I hope you like this!

Click HERE to be added to my taglist!

 Commander Neyo is an asshole.

He knows it. His men know it. His General knows it.

It’s a carefully cultivated persona that keeps his brothers from prying too much into his private life and keeps him from getting too close to men who probably won’t survive the year.

That might make him a cold person, but being raised to die in a war will do that to a man.

The one good thing in his life, the only good thing in his life, is his cyare.

So far as he’s concerned, she’s perfect in every way.

His cyare isn’t a Coruscant native. She’s from some small planet in the mid-rim and came to Coruscant for school. And, once she graduated, she just refused to return home.

He once asked why, late one evening, and she just laughed and told him that she was happy on Coruscant, happy with him, and she was not quite ready for the responsibility that came with returning home.

Neyo didn’t push at the time, and he still won’t push now, if she’s happy then that’s enough for him. Though a large part of him can’t quite understand why she’s so happy with someone like him. 

But, right now, he’s not going to question it.

Because her love for him means that he’s allowed to decompress from the war in an actual apartment, with a proper bed and an even better shower. Not to mention home-cooked meals and as many kisses as he could ever want.

Silently, Neyo keys in the code to the apartment that he half lives in, and he pauses in the doorway, just before he calls out to his cyare. He hadn’t warned her that he was returning early, wanting to surprise her, though now he feels like he should have.

Since the shoes piled at the door suggest that she has company.

He steps into the laundry room, which is right next to the front door, and tugs his armor off, setting it on the shelf that she bought for that very purpose. Then he peels off his blacks and pulls on the casual clothes that she leaves in the laundry room for this very scenario.

It’s not much, a tee shirt and dark red lounge pants, but to him, they’re more comfortable than the softest shimmersilk.

Only then does he step back into the hallway and head towards the living room. However, he stops before he opens the door.

He stops because he hears his name.

“So, the reason we invited ourselves over,” Neyo scowls at the comment and the voice. That is Nalia, his cyare’s oldest friend on Coruscant, and, in his humble opinion, the worst person in the galaxy. “We wanted to talk to you about Neyo.”

There’s no reply for a moment, and then his cyare speaks, “You want to talk about Neyo?” Her accent is thicker than it normally is, and Neyo knows without having to ask that her “friends” have been bothering her about things again.

“We do.” Another woman says. That’s Linly, another one of his cyare’s friends, though she most often plays the role of Nalia’s flying monkey. “I know that you love him.” She almost sounds concerned. Almost.

“You need to break up with him.” Nalia interrupts.

“...I beg your pardon?”

“Listen, he’s cold and mean and uncaring and he’s only using you for your body—” Nalia lists.

“You don’t know him, at all.” His cyare counters flatly, “I’m not breaking up with him.”

“Look,” Linly interjects, “He is very handsome, but if it’s his looks you want, he has millions of identical brothers—”

“Enough.”

“He’s not good for you,” Linly continues, undaunted. “He doesn’t deserve you.”

Neyo winces. As much as he loathes these two women…they’re right. He doesn’t deserve his cyare. He never has. She deserves someone as amazing as she is, and that’s definitely not him. 

He grimaces and rubs the back of his neck, he shouldn’t be listening to this. This conversation isn’t for his ears. And he’s about he walk away, when his cyare replies.

“You don’t get to decide if someone deserves me or not.” Her voice is flat and unimpressed, “The only person who gets to decide that is me, and I’ve decided that Neyo is perfect for me. And now I’d like you to leave.”

“Look,” Nalia says with a sigh, “We’re not leaving until you agree to break up with him.”

Oh.

Oh, absolutely not.

Neyo decides that he’s heard enough, and he slides the panel door open and steps into the living room. Immediately, he feels bad for not interjecting earlier.

His cyare is pressed into the corner of the couch, her hands curled into fists, while her “friends” loom over her.

“She said she wants you to leave.” Neyo says flatly, throwing every ounce of “unimpressed Commander” into his countenance as he can.

“Neyo!”

His gaze flickers over to his cyare as she pushes between her friends and hurries to his side, her arms sliding around his waist and burying her face against his shoulder. Neyo doesn’t bother to stop himself from lazily rubbing her back, pleased to have her against him again.

“You can leave,” Neyo says, his tone just on this side of polite, though the death glare he’s directing at them is enough to have them scurrying out of the apartment.

He doesn’t relax until the front door slides shut, and the lock automatically clicks into place. And then he’s wholly distracted by his cyare’s arms sliding around his neck.

“Welcome home,” Her smile is soft and small, and Neyo leans in to press his forehead against hers.

“Glad to be back,” He replies, his gaze scanning her face for any signs of distress, “You alright?”

“Yeah,” She shifts and lightly rubs her nose against his, “Just annoyed.” Her arms tighten around his neck, “They’re not right, you know?”

“About?”

“You not deserving me. You deserve everything and more.”

“I don’t want everything. I just want you.” Neyo counters with a small smile. “But you know, you could do better than me.”

“Never. Not in a million years.” She corrects, shifting once more to brush her lips against his.

Neyo doesn’t let her get away with that, pulling her closer so that he’s able to kiss her properly. “You need better friends, cyare.” He mumbles against her lips.

“A problem for later,” She replies as she tugs on the collar of his shirt, “I need to welcome you home now.”

@imabeautifulbutterfly

@n0vqni

@bad4amficideas

@justiceandwar98

@Mira-Loves-Star-Wars

@tiredbi-peach

@dukeoftheblackstar

@trixie2023

@kimiheartblade

@padawancat97

@falconfeather23435

@etod

@bb8-99

@kiss-anon

@continous-mistakes

@yoitsjay

@liz-stat

@cc--2224

@adriennelenoir

[athforskz]

Sticky Dates - Bang Chan

Masterlist

type: drabble, angst (?)

wc: ~800

not proof-read

warnings: crying, loneliness, yearning, olfactophilia

a/n: wow something that isn’t explicit. also absolutely convinced that this man would smell like heaven.

Enjoy lovelies!

The place you called home felt empty, quiet, voided. It had become a shell of itself ever since you were the only one stepping through the threshold at night. Some days you couldn’t even bear to come back to the small and cozy apartment because it meant you’d be sleeping another night alone. It wasn’t that you couldn’t handle being on your own, it was more so about the constant reminders of him that these four walls held.

You loved the memories you created with Chan, the good, the bad, all of it. But maybe you loved them to a fault. Too much to the point where you can’t stay while he was away. Maybe that was another flaw of yours; depending on him so much. It couldn’t be helped though. That’s just the kind of love you two shared. Chan loved to be needed by you, and you loved to need him. Honestly, it was a dangerous game to play considering his job and now you were paying the price for it.

A heavy sigh left your chest as you entered the darkened apartment. This was the first time you’d been back in three days: opting to stay with your best friend to avoid coming back home. Home? No, your home was gone, he was out traveling the world for the next six months on another world tour. This place was simply a shelter while Chan was away. Nonetheless, you had to face the reality, he had already been gone for a month and you still hadn’t gotten yourself into a routine to make the quiet, well, less quiet.

You made your way into the bedroom and stared at the bed where he normally slept. The sight of the empty space made your heart clench and pull out your phone to stare at the lockscreen of you two. It was a photo of you both laughing together at the beach that was taken on a trip while visiting his family. He had you wrapped up in his arms and his nose was all crinkled with laugh lines, you could still hear his little squeaky laugh playing in your head. If only you could actually hear it again right now. Maybe you should call him?

Your thumb hovered over Chan’s contact debating on if it was a good idea or not. It felt like an hour passed before you finally decided against it, you didn’t want to bother him. He’s probably busy, besides he said he’d call when he had the time. Chan always called, in fact, you spoke with him this morning, but now that you were back in the bedroom you two shared the need to hear his voice became overwhelming.

Dammit, when did you get so clingy? You shook your head to steel your resolve. You’ve gotta get it together if you’re going to get through half a year with Chan being on tour. Just one step at a time, you thought to yourself while entering the attached bathroom. A shower should do you some good.

The water cascading down your body felt heavenly, you hadn’t even noticed how tense your muscles had gotten before the warmth and steam enveloped you. When you had turned to grab the body wash your eyes landed on the half empty Lush bottle on the shelf, it was one of Chan’s favorite scents. A pout formed on your lips when you opened the bottle and inhaled, it smelled just like him. It sent a rush of mixed feelings through you, the smell of him making you think he was so close, yet he was still so far. You lathered the soap all over your body savoring the smell of Chan flooding your senses. Maybe this would end up becoming your favorite scent too.

Eventually, the water ran cold after spending such a long time in the shower. You were trying to soak up every second possible in your makeshift Channie scented sauna. You continued with the theme of ‘Chan-ifying’ yourself by spritzing a bit of his cologne on your neck and even putting on one of his black t-shirts to sleep in. Anything to make the illusion of him last a little bit longer.

Your mood had been content until you had slipped into his side of the bed, then the weight of how much you missed Chan hit you. You buried your face into his pillow and a whine left your throat as your eyes watered. There was nothing more you could do besides face the emotion of missing the love of your life. It’d get easier as time went on, it had to, right?

Just as a pitiful sob was about to make its escape, your phone began ringing. It was like your whole world lit up again when you saw his contact flashing across the screen. You answered the video call without a second thought. The lazy smile on Chan’s face instantly warmed your heart.

And for a little while, you felt at home again.

Taglist: @doitforbangchan @jehhskz @laylasbunbunny @oc3anfloor @crybabykurominho

[miiserableee]

( 𖤘 ) ▸ tumbling the tumbled : scaramouche x fem! reader !

scaramouche have always found you to be a pill he can't seem to swallow . you were always too hard to ignore , too easy to wish for . he spent his whole highschool thinking you'd remain being nothing as he so desperately hopes , but is now oftentimes sleeping with dreams of you and how you've tumbled his existence .

(!!!) mentions of reader being a cutie patootie ! tsundere to the highest level scara ! cuddly reader & scara ! modern!highschool! au again cause that's all i can ever write AHAHAHAHAHA lmao :D ooc characters ! 1.5k words !

"Oi , wake up ." scaramouche was never the most decent , but he's long since learnt to mind his own business . so , why does he bother with you ? sleeping so leisurely by the far corner of this massive library .

well , maybe it's because , it's been more than half an hour since the bell rung . it's way past lunch break . you ought to be in class . just as him . he isn't quite sure if you're as uncaring of being late or absent for a period or two . he's seen you wake up on time countless of times like clockwork , like a bot programmed to be up and about at the most appropriate of timestamps .

scaramouche , aggravated , scratches at his scalp and messes up his own bedhead . he had also just woken up from his nap . fuck , this really itches him the wrong way for some reason .

he can't seem to walk out , trust him , he's tried .

he glares at you , like that'll do anything while you're playing sleeping beauty . perhaps looking for a needle to prick you with will give him the best outcome , and ability to sweep his meaningless frustrations under rugs .

"Wake up , L/n ." he rearranges his words for the , god knows who time . you remain with no showing of signs of being the least bit disrupted by this , attempt of being awoken . and that's on the said attempts not being in the gentle side either .

one more glare and he'd probably have digging knives for eyes . he clicks at his tongue and took his phone out . it seems it's been 35 minutes , well , it doesn't really matter if he goes to class or not . his classmates were raring in the groupchat , about how their teacher was busy attending on a sick student to practice any lectures .

the vibrations of the notifications having been what awoke him . he looks at the sleeping you again and wonders if he could set his phone vibrating and wake the hell out of you too .

he chose against it as he remembers your close bond with one of his friends . a nagging fit from two chatterboxes will have to grate at his ears for a long while . heizou and kazuha really have a knack at befriending odd people . you setting the best example yet .

there's venti too . that guy really loves your every atom .

right , xiao is kind of way past just knowing you too so he'd really have to go through it if he did something atrocious to you , or at least that's what kazuha will word anything of what he does as a teasing to you would be in the aftermath .

aether would probably join the nagging crew .

he sighs and sits himself on the seat by the right to you . you didn't budge despite all the noise his intentional display of being inconsiderate have played too near you .

cupping a hand to a cheek , he rests on his elbow and ponders over nonsensical things . what else to do when you have almost an hour to waste until the next period begins ?

he looks at your face .

he's seen that face multiple times this year . it's a bit annoying how often , but he's gotten used to it .

you came from the same reading club as the five guys he hangs out with . he was ushered to join said club too but he'd rather do other things .

you didn't have much going on for you . plain and quiet , always on your heels and never at all looking directly at him . well , at least until the formal introductions done by venti was laid ahead .

your e/c eyes really struck at him that time . your eyes feeling oddly perfect being on line as his . it's a shame that your eyes are closed now , as you sleep .

seeing you sleeping so deeply he wonders if your sleeping position is really any that seemingly comfy . he copies you and dives more into pondering .

there were moments wherein you two only had each other as company , excluding this one . the majorities of these was when you two slept hours in the library , reasons and spots utterly different but that's besides the point .

there was a moment when he had to aid you with a wounded arm from an incident in class , he even had to attend to your wound himself . there was that time he gave you a handkerchief of his own when he walked in on you crying in class , at dawn , the class yet to begin , the classroom empty , you with a book and weeping silently .

you two were also paired for a project once .

all those moments together , vulnerabilities and opportunities leading doors of creaking opening , yet you never felt all that special to him , he never felt the need to pry those doors open fully . since to him you were ,

just , some girl his friends are all sheeshaw-sheesh over .

saying you were the most responsible , strong and capable person they know .

scaramouche could only scoff in mind . if only they knew how much of a vulnerable , naive and careless of an existence you truly can be at times .

helping someone from falling badly and hurting yourself in the process . crying just because a character wanted to buy his mother's favorite croissants but couldn't . staring aimlessly at everything the moment you're left alone . saying the most unnecessary things with just a whiff of awkward silence .

he stares at your braided hair .

that was one of those rare acts of yours , you were never one to tie your hair .

he feels sleepy again . he didn't even feel his eyes close . thinking of you is so tiring , it drags on for too long . at times , it even comes to points where he just thinks about you all day long .

"Scara ?"

scaramouche blinks , hearing your voice . he blinks again and again , in a daze . "You dozed off ." you were sitting between his legs , his arms around you .

oh right , you slept here last night and you both woke up past afternoon and decided to have food delivered and watch movies while , eating .

the delivery must have taken so long that he fell asleep . what a deep dream , he almost forgot all his rage in his stream last night .

"Sorry . Is the food here ?" he asks and you shake your head , leaning back after and landing said head on his shoulder . that's good , he didn't want you to eat alone .

your phone back on the table as you reach for his cheeks and squish at them . "Not yet , a few more minutes , the driver said ."

instead of his brows twitching at what you said , he only asks you to sit the other way around and face him .

that , you did . so different from how you would've flinched before at every touch on you he did .

you sit with your legs rested on his thighs and your hands on his shoulders . you tilt your head to the side a bit and smiles .

"You haven't had enough cuddles ?"

"I just , want more ." he kisses your cheek before he pulls you closer to him . arms around you and massaging your back . he leans on the couch and sighs .

"Are you hungry ?" he sounds a bit worried . "For cuddles ? Now that you're being all clingy , yeah , yeah I am ."

"I was asking if you were famished for food , but that's good to know ." scaramouche was never at all near to thinking that your relationship of just being too-far-to-be-friends would now be , this intimate .

"What did you dream about , anyways ? You kept grumbling ."

"I dreamt of that time we slept in the library until it was time to go home ."

"Oh ? High school , right ? When we were 2nd years ?"

"Yeah ,"

"I was wondering why you were beside me when Venti woke us up . They wondered too and asked why you were there and was sure you were awake because you had seen-ed in the gc hours before . Then you said you didn't leave , just because . But like , why really ?" what a detailed recollection , nothing beats your memory after all .

"I don't know . I must've been attracted to you some way even in those moments , despite not being completely aware yet ."

you pull back from him with your brows meeting and he laughs before you say a thing . "Didn't you ask me out before we graduated High School ? You mean , you've liked me since we were in our 2nd years ?!"

"Why are you so shocked ?" the two of you now were 3rd years in college . struggling to even be 4th years next semester , or maybe just you .

"Because ," you trail off and pause completely . "Because ?"

his thumb press a bit on your sides , his hands on either side of your waist . keeping you there , he feels you want to just stand and walk out .

"Because , oh ! The delivery's here ! I'll get it !"

he watches you hurry your way to the door and stays there for a bit . smirking to himself . seems to be stuck in the memory train today , he remembers one thing one of the guys said after a month or two of you two being introduced to each other .

"You know , Y/n seems interested in you ."

perhaps , heizou is worth believing sometimes .

SCARA-LiNE / WORK NAVi !

[accio-sriracha]

Sirius was gone for twelve years.

Twelve years he'd spent rotting away in that fucking cell.

He'd had every bit of hope drained from his body and he had nothing to carry him through it but the image of his best friend's corpse.

Nothing but the reminders of everything that had been taken from him.

For years he'd stewed in his anger. He'd been driven mad with rage and hatred and betrayal. Of the injustice of it all.

Eventually, he learned to stop feeling all together. To protect himself.

The demontors tormented him less this way, when he was already so void of anything remotely human.

He turned into a dog to control his thoughts. Animals were easier in a way, they had very primal needs and required little else.

No longer did he think of James. No longer was he haunted by everything that used to be, everything that could have been...

He refused to feel it.

He'd gone so long without a single tear he wasn't sure he was capable of them anymore. All those years without emotion made him clear minded. All that remained was one single thought.

He needed to kill Peter Pettigrew.

That was all that ever mattered to him anymore. Not his grief. Not his sadness. No. Just the desire to finish what he should have started all those years ago.

He did not mourn his old self. He did not miss feeling emotions the way he once did.

Emotions were a disease. They'd beaten him half to death and back again.

They tore through his system like a drug, wrecking everything they passed.

And they burned. They burned him the way his lungs would burn when they screamed for air.

The human mind was next to incapable of suffocating itself, did you know?

He did.

He knew that in his fits of panic and rage his heart would beat far too quickly, struggling to adjust under the crushing weight on his chest. This- this guilt that he carried so long it had woven itself into his very soul. But he couldn't seem to hold his breath long enough.

Maybe that meant a piece of him was still alive, fighting for survival.

Or maybe his brain was just a traitorous beast with a plot of its own.

Either way, he lived to see the day he escaped.

And when he was free, when he had found Pettigrew in his hiding, he still refused to feel.

He refused to feel even as he drug his godson's best friend through the once familiar tunnel to the shrieking shack.

He refused to feel even as he heard the snapping of his bones.

He managed to keep himself emotionless, even as he transformed back into himself. To Sirius. Someone he hadn't been in a long time.

And when Harry stood in front of him, accusing him of the murder of his parents, he thought maybe he should feel. But he remembered the pain.

He could see it in the boy's eyes. He could feel the phantom of it's fingers ghosting at him as they reminded him of a brilliant witch he used to know.

No. He didn't feel. He wouldn't.

Not until Remus.

When Remus walked into the room Sirius swore his lungs had collapsed. He swore his heart could not possibly be continuing to beat.

When Remus reached out a hand and their fingers touched, that's when Sirius knew what was happening to him.

He was feeling.

And he hated it. He hated the way his body shook with fear, how his mind replayed memory after memory of all he had repressed.

He missed the numbness that had enveloped him. It was gone and left him bare and exposed to the new, to this torture.

He missed the static that saved him from his thoughts. He missed the cell that bore no reminders of his past.

When Remus embraced him, for the first time in over a century... Sirius broke.

Never before had he felt so much.

He felt unwillingly. He did not want these feelings back. He did not ask for them. He did not want his soul to burn any longer. He did not want this.

But his feelings were here, and they were overpowering, and they were real.

And among them was the strongest sense of relief he'd ever known in his life.

Remus... Moony.

Sirius realised then what he had been missing. Like the last piece of a puzzle finally working its way into the picture. Remus completed him.

He gasped, clutching onto Remus as tightly as he could manage with what little strength remained.

Remus' eyes met his and they were so full of understanding.

Remus knew. Remus believed him. Remus loved him.

The words repeated in his head like a mantra.

Remus loved him, Remus loved him, Remus loved him.

And never again would Sirius take those feelings for granted. No matter how hard or overwhelming everything got; he would never again forget his love for the boy he'd held under the stars all those years ago.

Remus loved him.

And that was enough to make him stay.

[iwriteasfotini]

September Full Moony Excerpt

I am so excited to share this story with everyone. Waiting is SO hard. In celebration of the full moon tonight, here is a subtextual Wolfstar moment from The Bonds of Friendship, Chapter II - A Trip to Diagon Alley. Read it and then tell me you couldn't picture it perfectly in your imagination. :-P

James and Sirius have spent the summer together and are in Diagon Alley doing their school shopping. 

[James and Sirius] ordered the ‘giant’ sized bowls, which allowed them to choose five different flavors of ice cream and three toppings apiece. Sitting under a colorful umbrella outside the shop, they watched the bustle of shoppers, and searched for their other two best friends. 

James spotted Peter first, accompanied by his mum. 

“Pete!” James called, waving energetically. Peter beamed and hurried over. James wrapped him in a hug and Sirius also stood to hug Peter across the bench seat. 

“Blimey, those are the biggest bowls I’ve ever seen,” said Peter, eyeing their ice creams, which were about halfway finished. 

“Here, sit down, and you can have some of mine,” James offered.

Peter looked to his mum for permission, and she said, “oh go on Peety, I’ll go shop for you. Just stay in this general area.”

The three boys smiled widely at her and Peter took a seat, digging into James’ ice cream with gusto. 

“Why did you have to get chopped nuts?” asked Peter, chewing thoughtfully. 

“Because I like chopped nuts, and I wasn’t choosing with you in mind.” 

Peter shrugged, and picked around the remaining nut pieces. 

It wasn’t long before a head of tousled light brown hair caught James’ eye, and his eyebrows shot up as Remus and his mother came fully into view. Remus had grown. A lot. He had already been as tall as his mother last term, and now he was half a head above her. 

Sirius nearly upset their table in his haste to rush out onto the cobbled street, shouting, “Remus!”

“Where’s the fire,” scoffed Peter. 

But James was right behind Sirius, and he wrapped his arms around both Sirius and Remus in a tight embrace. 

When they broke apart, Remus’ mum looked quite pleased. 

“Mam,” said Remus, “this is James, and Sirius.” Pointing at each of them. 

“Peter’s over there as well,” James said, Peter gave a wave when all heads turned in his direction. 

“Alright. It’s so nice to finally meet you all, Remus talks about you so much at home. I am grateful he has such good friends at Hogwarts.” Remus’ mother smiled kindly at them. 

“Oh and this is my mam, Hope,” Remus said quickly. 

“Nice to meet you Hope,” Sirius stepped forward and kissed her on the cheek. James and Remus exchanged an amused glance. 

“Oh, there’s lovely Sirius.” Hope was blushing and seemed rather taken aback. 

“Is that a pureblood thing?” Remus asked bluntly. “Or are you desperate to get in my mam’s good graces?” 

James reached over and smacked Remus on the back of the head. It was actually over and up, because yes, Remus actually was that much taller than him now. Remus retaliated in kind, while Sirius looked a bit sheepish, and Hope suddenly had to dig something out of her handbag. 

“Look,” said James, breaking the awkwardness, “we were just finishing up some ice cream, care to join us Remus?”

“Er, I need to shop with my mam, she’s not used to wizard money and shops.”

“Of course.” James internally chastised himself for forgetting Mrs Lupin, Hope, was a muggle. 

“Meet us when you are done?” suggested Sirius. 

“Tidy.”

“We might poke around the shops, but we won’t go far,” James said. 

Remus and his mother left to shop, while James and Sirius returned to their table to find Peter had finished off both of their ice cream bowls. 

“Hey! I didn’t offer you any of mine,” Sirius objected. 

“Whoops, sorry,” said Peter. “We can go to Sweet Fangs, I’ll buy.”

So they headed off to the sweet shop across the way. 

…

Find out more about this series in my pinned post.

Ahhh, the anticipation is killing me! It’s like waiting for Christmas Eve, my favorite day of the year. I post a writing update every week. This excerpt is from the third installment titled The Bonds of Friendship which will begin daily posting on AO3 on February 14.

[shinysteph]

Girl what am I going to do with myself when my hero academia is done

[kuromi-hoemie]

i am once again thinking about The Boy

not the movie lol

[familyofpaladins]

You've heard of [person/character/show/story/media/art] living rent free in your head right?

Now get ready for: that, but each is a little bird in the nest of you mind, some birds are there for a long time and some just a little while, as they come and go and theres some you feed more than others And it's not until you realize that suddenly "theres less birds here" "where'd the other babies go?" That the bird you started to feed a couple days ago is Cuckoo bird

[aroaessidhe]

2023 reads

The Princess and the Fangirl

YA contemporary prince & the pauper set at a convention

follows a fan who wants to save her fave character from being killed off, and the actress playing her who’s desperate to be free of the intense franchise

when they’re mistaken for each other they instantly hate each other - but after a script is leaked, they swap places to try solve each of their problems - and start to see the fandom from the each other’s perspective

light (since they know each other for like 2 days) f/f & m/f

this is so deeply mid-2010s fandom tumblr. lmao.