#the first of many things I would like to write up

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 6 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: After you and Bradley make a mess and clean it up, your first wedding anniversary is in the books. There are so many changes going on, it's hard to keep track of everything. But some things seem like they will always stay the same, like the love you feel for him.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, cum play, food play, swearing, pregnancy

Length: 4100 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

The sound of the ocean and the twinkling of the stars in the night sky were the only things Bradley recognized in the dark besides your body. You were on his lap, rolling your hips slowly against him, teasing him with your warmth and your voice as your lips met his ear. 

"You're the best husband, and soon you'll be the best daddy. The Nugget and I decided we're going to keep you around."

Bradley groaned softly as he rubbed his palm along your belly. "Yeah, you ruined that for yourself as soon as you fed me. I'm not going anywhere. Ever."

You laughed softly before pulling your lips away from the side of his neck. "I forgot to ask. What's in the bakery box?"

"Huh?" he grunted in response as you pressed your soft thigh against his erection through his jeans. He thought he was supposed to know what you were talking about. It sounded familiar. A bakery box. But your hand was unzipping his pants now, and he was a lost cause.

"The bakery box, Roo," you whispered, voice laced with amusement. "On the backseat?"

"Oh," he sighed as you stroked him. He couldn't read your expression in the darkness, but he knew you must be smiling. "I got you a cake. A confetti cake for our anniversary."

"You did?" You sounded delighted as you added, "I want to see it."

Bradley let his head tip back against the side of the interior of the Bronco. You already pulled your hand back out of his pants and started crawling away from him. "Sweetheart," he whined. "I thought I was just about to get lucky."

He felt cold where your warmth had just been, and he let himself be annoyed for a few seconds until you softly squealed, "Ouch!"

"Shit, what happened?" he asked, realizing he wasn't sure exactly where you had crawled off to. He put one leg up to block the open tailgate while he dug around in his pocket next to his hard cock for his phone.

As soon as he turned on the flashlight, he realized you were already looking over the back of the seat, digging around under the blanket to find the cake. "I pinched my finger. I'm fine," you muttered. "Let me have your phone."

He handed it to you before he flopped down onto his back. You used the flashlight to locate the dome light as well, and soon that was shining directly into Bradley's eyes as he palmed himself for some relief. "Can't the cake wait until we get home?"

You turned and looked down at him over your shoulder with a little pout on your lips. "But I'm hungry again."

He would never deny you anything you wanted. As he got to his knees and scooted over next to you, he kissed your cheek. "Did you look at it yet?" Bradley reached down onto the seat and carefully opened the box to reveal the pretty, round cake with white icing and rainbow sprinkles. Then you started laughing. Apparently, in his horny state, he'd also forgotten what he had the baker write on it.

Happy First Anniversary. Thanks for marrying me and having awesome tits. I love you.

"Bradley!" you wheezed. "You made someone write that on a cake!"

He grabbed you up without putting too much pressure on your belly and said, "It's all true." He kissed down the side of your neck and back up to your ear as your laughter turned to a soft moan. "Now, can we turn off the lights and get back to where we left off?"

Your stomach growled so loudly as you met his eyes, it was almost comical. "I'm sorry, but I'm just really hungry, and I think Rose the Nugget is, too."

Bradley was absolute putty in your hands as soon as you used her name. He kissed you sweetly and whispered, "Then let me make sure my girls are well fed."

He guided you over the pavement in the darkness and got you buckled into the passenger seat. Then he opened the back door and said, "You know, I never ever let anyone else eat in the Bronco before you. I still don't even eat in here." He cut into the cake and put a slice on one of the paper plates he brought along. "But apparently I have no boundaries when it comes to my wife and my daughter."

When you turned around, he handed the piece of cake and a fork up to you, and you beamed back at him. "Thanks, Daddy."

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to get his body under control so he could drive home. He closed the back door and walked around the front of the Bronco. You were smiling and licking the frosting from the fork when he climbed in with his pants still unzipped. He was still almost painfully hard, and he was desperately praying there was still hope for some relief on the horizon.

Bradley drove carefully around the orange cones and out onto the road that ran along the main strip of Coronado. The indecent little sounds you were making had him jealous of the cake, and then you held out your fork to him. "This is so good. You need to try it."

"I told you I don't eat in the Bronco," he muttered before opening his mouth wide for you to feed it to him. "Holy hell. Gimme some more."

"Right?!" You fed him another bite and another one. By the time he was parking in the driveway, there was icing in his mustache, and he was still unbearably horny.

Bradley handed you the keys, kissed your lips so hard you gasped, and said, "Go unlock the front door." He watched you scamper up the walkway as he grabbed the bakery box from the backseat before following you inside. "Now get undressed," he said, giving you a firm smack on your ass that left you biting your lip as you looked at him. "I'm serious, Baby Girl. Take it all off and wait for me in the kitchen."

"He's so demanding," you said, either to yourself or to the baby, and regardless he laughed as he pretended to throw a treat out the back door so Tramp would go outside. Then he was right on you with the cake in his hands as you pulled your dress over your head and let it drop to the floor, leaving you in nothing but your little Mrs. Bradshaw panties. 

"Those are some awesome tits," he whispered, setting the cake down and running his hands up the soft swell of your belly and all the way up to stroke your nipples.

"You're obsessed right now," you told him. You weren't wrong. He was about to bring his lips down to play with you, but he narrowed his eyes and reached for the cake instead. "What are you doing?" you gasped as he dunked his fingers into the icing before spreading it all over your breasts.

"I'm still a little hungry, too," he murmured, tracing your nipples slowly with his messy fingertips until you were trying to grind yourself against him. He slipped his thigh between yours, and you moaned his name as he brought his lips down to taste the exquisite icing on your perfect skin. Everything was sweet and warm as he buried his face in there, licking and sucking on you until you were as far gone as he was.

With your arms around his neck and your pussy rubbing against him, you begged for it. "I need you to fuck me. Please!"

He couldn't say no to you on a regular day, but especially not on your anniversary. He spun you around, pulled your satin panties to the side and bent you over a little bit over the counter. He got his cock free, and with a snap of his hips, he thrust himself inside you, and he was rewarded with his name echoing off the kitchen walls.

"Feel good?" he grunted as he slipped one hand in the front of your panties and squeezed your gorgeous breasts with the other. 

"So good," you whispered as he rocked himself into you a little harder. 

He pressed his nose to the back of your neck and inhaled the smell of your skin and the icing which he got everywhere. "I thought we'd have slow and sexy anniversary sex. I didn't know I'd end up fucking you hard over the kitchen counter."

"Blame it on the cake," you whined, reaching for his hand which was on your tits and guiding his sticky fingers up to your lips. Bradley had no idea how he was still going. You'd had him wound up all night. And the way you were circling each digit with your tongue was so fucking hot.

When he pinched your clit, you bucked back against him. When he did it again, he soothed you with some slow circles, and he knew you were getting close. He could feel you starting to clench him a little tighter as your moaning got louder. You sucked on his fingers while your pussy treated his cock to your orgasm.

"God, you feel good," he gasped, fucking you through your highest peak. But he still had some left in the tank. You seemed to be a little surprised as you looked at him over your shoulder, and he was sure his eyes were wild and his face was red. 

You spun to look at him as he stared down at his hard cock, bobbing excitedly and glistening from your wetness. You took his chin in your hand and kissed him on the lips. "Is it my turn to have a little fun?"

Bradley nodded, because he didn't even care what you did right now, he knew he was going to love it. This time you were the one coating up your fingers with icing, and you jerked your hand up and down his length while he gripped the edge of the counter. Just the idea of the confection mixed with the flavor of your pussy had him bucking into your hand. "Let me taste it," he whimpered, and your bright eyes grew a little wider, but you brought your hand up to your own mouth first. "Please," he begged, watching you lick your palm.

"Oh my god," you gasped, eyes drifting closed as you dipped your index finger between your lips. 

"Please," he asked one more time, afraid he might just cum all over your body and the floor. You looked up at him and reached out to part his lips with your thumb, and then you carefully placed your index and middle fingers on his tongue. He sucked at the flavor and swiped his tongue between your fingers. He swallowed it down, convinced that this combination was one of the best things he had ever enjoyed in his life.

He cleaned off your whole hand as you watched in awe, and when you realized he was still hard, you used his help to get yourself kneeling on the floor in front of him. Bradley lasted exactly eight seconds with your tongue circling his cock while you licked at the icing and sucked on him. "Fuck!" he barked, tapping the back of your throat as he came. "Holy shit." Then you had the audacity to show him the mess he made on your tongue before you swallowed him down.

"You taste very good mixed with icing too, Roo."

Bradley was so fucking in love with you and everything you did. He would marry you a hundred times over just to get all of the sweet and filthy moments with you. "Why don't you get back up here and let me try it for myself?"

You were all too happy for him to help you to your feet so he could slip his tongue between your lips. You were absolutely right.

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

When you woke up on Sunday, you were a little sore. Bradley was still sound asleep, and he looked exhausted himself. The Nugget was rolling around on your bladder, and you had to quickly shimmy walk to the bathroom. Your husband did a bit of a number on you in the kitchen with the rough sex. 

You reached for the toilet paper and mumbled to yourself, "Maybe he was right. Maybe anniversary sex is supposed to be a little calmer?"

"Blame it on the cake, Sweetheart." You looked up as Bradley strolled into the bathroom completely naked. His cock even looked impressive when he was soft, and his hair was wild from the way you'd been running your fingers through it before you fell asleep last night. He grunted as he yawned. He was perfect to you.

"I can't believe we've been married for a year," you whispered as he leaned down to kiss your forehead as you sat on the toilet. This was probably peak domesticity right here, and it made you smile.

"How's my Nugget?" Bradley asked before kissing your forehead once more.

"Almost made me wet the bed," you told him as you stood up. "I slept very soundly last night, but she woke me up by thumping on my bladder."

His brown eyes lit up as he put his hands underneath your shirt. "Is she still thumping?" You knew immediately that he was able to feel her as a smile bloomed on his lips. "Hey, Rose. It's Daddy."

"So that's really her name? We're definitely going with that?"

"Mmhmm," he hummed, eyes closed as his palm circled your belly button. 

You kissed his cheek and then his temple. "Your excitement always makes me even more excited."

When he patted your belly again, he asked, "Are you going to brunch with Cam and Maria?"

"Yeah, but I don't need to be there for another hour. Do you want me to make you breakfast first?"

Relief filled his features as he turned on the sink and looked in the mirror. "Please. Then I'm going to try to finish up the playset. And don't forget Bradley Ross is coming over after work tomorrow." Bradley Ross. Bradley Ross. The name was familiar, but you couldn't place it. "The contractor? For the attic?"

"Oh! Yes, of course. Bradley Ross," you told him, having completely forgotten that your house was about to become a construction zone. "I hope he can finish it before my parents come out for Christmas."

"That's the goal," Bradley muttered as he looked at his hair. "We can throw them upstairs so I can do whatever I want to you in our room all night long. The separation will be key." You snorted as you started to get your toothbrush ready, and then he turned to you and said, "Nat commented on my gray hairs the other day."

He looked perhaps a little bit concerned. "Did she?" One thing you really appreciated about your husband's best friend was the way she picked on him. It was good for him to have a friend who gave him shit. It probably helped build character in him, similar to the way Cam usually gave you a hard time. But you wanted to make sure his feelings weren't hurt, especially not about his. "What did she say?"

He shrugged, trying for nonchalance. "That it's getting a little noticeable. At my temples."

"It's so fucking sexy," you told him, reaching up with your fingers and running them through his hair. "God, Roo. Women eat this shit up."

"They do?" he asked, perplexed.

"Oh, definitely," you promised. "A handsome man with some gray hairs? Jesus, I'm going to have to start keeping a closer eye on you when we go out to the bar."

Bradley rolled his eyes. "You'll have to do nothing of the sort."

"That's right," you whispered with a smile. "Your sexy hair belongs to me, Bradley."

He stood behind you while you brushed your teeth, and he kissed your neck. "I'm afraid you're stuck with all of this."

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

You were sitting in the kitchen after work on Monday, eating a sliced up apple that you were dipping into hot sauce while you talked to your parents over FaceTime.

"We could come out the Tuesday before Christmas," your mom said for the fourth time.

"I already told you, just let me know when you're coming, and we'll pick you up from the airport," you said, also for the fourth time.

Your dad was already in his pajamas since it was three hours later on the east coast, and you could tell your mom was annoying him as much as she was annoying you. "I sincerely hope you eat a real meal besides that," she said, looking at your snack in disgust.

You wanted to roll your eyes. You were about to call Bradley in from the backyard where he was throwing a tennis ball for Tramp so you could make him deal with her for a little bit. "I'll eat a real meal later, mom." Just then, there was a knock at the door and you hopped up. "Oops, that's probably the contractor. I'll talk to you later! Bye, love you!"

Saved by the distraction, you shouted out the back door for your husband to come in. And that's when you met Bradley Ross. He kind of reminded you of your own Bradley, just a little bit older. When the three of you ended up in the attic space, he looked around at it like it was the most beautiful diamond in the rough he'd ever seen, when in reality it looked like a disaster that your husband demolished. 

"Wow," he told you, measuring along each wall. "This is going to come together perfectly. What a beautiful space. I'm sure you'll cherish it."

"Right," your husband told the other Bradley while you tried not to laugh. "Look, having a cherished attic is great and all, but we just really need a space for my wife's parents when they come out to stay, especially after the baby is born."

"You'll have both," he promised.

Your husband rubbed lazy circles on your back as you wrote out a check for the deposit on the kitchen island and listened to Bradley Ross go over the detailed plans. Two more bedrooms and a full bathroom? Part of you couldn't believe there was enough room up there to accommodate all of that, but you would just have to trust this man's life changing vision.

You handed him the check and took his business card. "I'll be back on Wednesday to start the project," he said as you entered his number into your phone.

Once he was gone, you looked up at Bradley and said, "We should probably get a Christmas tree soon. And maybe some lights? I'm used to us going to my parents' house. We never decorated before."

He chuckled. "I haven't decorated for Christmas since my mom died, but if you want to, then I guess I'll get into the holiday spirit."

"You better get used to it," you informed him as he tugged you toward the bedroom across the hallway from yours which would become the nursery. "After Rose is born, you're going to need to go overboard with it."

"I love going overboard," he told you, as if you didn't already know that about him. "Speaking of which... all of the stuff we ordered on Friday got delivered today. Wanna take a look?"

You squealed with excitement as you saw that he had opened up the boxes and set everything on the floor in the empty room. "Roo! The crib bedding is adorable!" When you went to kneel on the floor, he insisted on helping you get down comfortably. That's when you opened the bedding and ran your hand over the pastel airplanes. The fabric was soft, and your eyes got a little misty as you imagined your baby snuggled up on them.

Bradley knelt down next to you and kissed your cheek. "I was thinking your dad and I could put the crib together when they come out in a few weeks? I know how much he likes working on little projects like that."

You threw yourself into his arms so quickly, he grunted in response. "He would love that, Bradley. He would absolutely love that." And now it was too late to try to get your hormones under control again as you started sobbing in his arms. 

He kissed your ear and whispered, "That will give me time to paint in here while you're out of the house. Maybe you and Nat can go see a movie and go shopping or something. I don't want the paint fumes to bother you since this room is so close to our bedroom."

"You're so fucking considerate." You hugged him tighter and straddled his legs, and soon he was on the floor underneath you as you both laughed. "Can we start calling it the nursery? Rosie's nursery?"

"That's music to my ears, Baby Girl. And you know what? I also kind of feel like picking out a Christmas tree now."

"Yeah?" you asked in excitement.

He nodded up at you and let his hand slip down to your belly. "Yeah. How about we go look at paint colors and trees? I want an enormous one that looks like it's covered in snow." He gave you a little shrug and said, "You know, since we're hardy east coast people."

"And we're having a hardy east coast baby."

The two of you ended up at Home Depot until they were closing. Bradley picked out an eight foot tall tree and string lights, and you decided to ask your parents to bring out some of their ornaments with them. You also had approximately fifty little paint samples in your hand while you watched Bradley awkwardly shove the tree into the back of your red Bronco.

"I'm leaning toward this lavender? Or maybe a light gray? Blue could be nice though, so it looks like the sky."

"Let's hang them up in Rosie the Nugget's nursery for a few days before we decide," he crooned as he buckled you in.

You already thought you might melt onto the floor as you ate a little snack while he drove home, and then you realized he would soon have someone else to buckle in. "Bradley," you mumbled around your granola bar. "I can't tell if I'm horny, emotional or just starving again, but the way I need you to install car seats in both Broncos while shirtless is absolutely essential to my wellbeing."

He chuckled and said, "I'm certain I can do that for you."

You crunched through the rest of your granola bar in contentment.

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

The month of December brought about a routine of sorts that Bradley was kind of in love with. You were just about to start your third trimester, and it seemed as though your belly was growing noticeably every day now. You came home from work so horny most days, the two of you ended up sneaking off to your locked bedroom for a quickie while Bradley Ross worked his magic upstairs. Then inevitably there was a more leisurely round of sex before bed where more time could be spent admiring your perfectly round belly and delicious tits. 

"Which day are your parents flying out again?" he asked you as he peeled your underwear slowly down your legs leaving your soaking wet pussy bare for him. 

"The twenty-first," you whimpered as he stroked you and kissed along your tattoo. "Can we talk about something besides my parents while you're down there?"

"Sure," he replied smoothly. "How about you tell me what you want for Christmas?"

"Roo," you whined as he licked your clit to your exact personal preference. "I want a million orgasms."

He smirked with your clit between his lips and said, "Already wrapped and under the tree for you. What else?"

Your hands tangled in his hair as he worked you up. You were babbling incoherently so he intentionally slowed his tongue, and you started to panic. "Everything I want is for the baby or the nursery! But maybe we can go on a little babymoon trip?" 

Your eyes were wild as you were looking at him over your belly, begging him to keep going. But honestly, your idea sounded pretty great, and he was going to look into it. "Anything you want, Sweetheart. You get to have it all." He proved it to you by letting you have one of the million orgasms early.

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

Oof, these two are really enjoying her pregnancy hormones and her cravings. Up next we have a California Christmas with Roo's in-laws, and honestly so much more. Thanks for reading! As always, if there's something you'd like to see in this series, shoot me a message! Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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[thegnomelord]

me very patiently waiting for that mothussy :3

oh and here’s another wittle thing i thought…i tend to hc price as a bear hybrid or other so i think he would go into hibernations,, since hes still on duty he wouldnt go into a long-term one like other bears, but simply sleep a LOT of the day…i would wanna cuddle big bear price so bad awaawaewfgwh 🥺 hes really hairy but instead of it being coarse hair, its more fluffy cause its the winter!! so his facial hair puffs up a bit…and his chest hair…and the happy trail…you get the idea :3 idk i just like bear price i want him to pound me into the mattress and suck my cock until it falls off hug me!!

-❀

Give me like a couple more days lol, I got ghost and soap more or less done in a rough draft format, just need to write out price and gaz then a quick rewrite to clean up the draft. Cause rn all mini drafts are about 1k and very rough so when I clean it up they're probs gonna be bumped up to like 2k? Just knowing me and how my drafts end up doubling in size lol.

Also duuude you are a treasure trove of ideas lol. I want bear price now and now I'm horny so here's a bunch of bear price

Help a Bear Out

CW:NSFW, MDNI, daddy kink, dom/sub, oral, somno, edging, foodplay, cockwarming. Bear Price x Top Male reader Ao3

Imagine Bear Price who is by no means a small man any time of the year, bear genetics + having to be physically fit to take down terrorists leads to him having a very strong and imposing build befitting a Kodiak bear. The fur only adds to the striking image, making him look larger and his arms appear thicker, letting him scare many young boars from trying to tussle with him lest he crack their skulls.

But he turns massive in winter.

He can't help it; There's no escaping the iron clad control nature has over his body as his dark fur thickens and gains a fluffy golden color. No evading the instinct telling him to eat and rest and grow fat for winter until his hard earned muscles disappear beneath the cloak of fat. No ignoring sweet lull of sleep's song when he's yawning every five minutes and the words on the report swim in his blurry eyes.

Imagine Bear Price who, in his younger days, used to be self conscious about the changes his body went through. Growing up surrounded by humans was tough, dread would start building in his heart the moment the first leaf from the trees would fall. He's lost count how many times the kids would laugh at him when he'd show up to school after winter break with a chubby face and barely able to run a lap with how tired he was.

As he grew and started being curious about sex, it only got worse. He'd snatch the porn mags his sisters would buy behind their parents back, spending hours looking in the mirror and comparing his pudgy belly and fat thighs to the chiseled abs and lean muscles of the models. He'd spend hours exercising and trying to loose the weight he'd gain, but it would be all for naught.

And it didn't stop when he graduated and went into the military. His superiors may have tolerated the extra sleep and rations Price needed because he was a monster on the field, but they by no means were happy about it. He'd end up with thrice the amount of work and run ragged in training until he returned to his pre-winter weight.

Imagine Bear Price who doesn't give a shit about how he looks like now. Why would he, when he sees how you look at him? How you touch him? How you worship him?

Your hands wind around his waist and the groan you let out when you realize the space between your fingertips has gotten bigger is hungry. Your face burrows into his chest, his soft fluffy fur tickling your face as you nuzzle his pecks. The way his pudgy belly and love handles jiggle under your wandering hands makes you wish you had more arms so you could feel every part of him.

A content growl rumbles from the bottom of his chest, eyelids open just enough to watch you. "My boy's forgotten his manners." He chuckles, but there's no way to hide the wagging of his little bear tail. The reverent way you touch him makes him feel like a king.

"Sorry sir." There's absolutely no shame in your voice or your actions, not when your mind is held captive by the soft fluffy fur and the warmth of his skin. Without thinking you slide your hands up to grope his chest and you groan — the squishy fat covering his muscles and makes his pecs so large they don't fit in your hands anymore, fat plumping up between your fingers and his flesh jiggling as you press his pecs against your head and motorboat him.

The surprised laugh you earn is like ambrosia to sweeten the heaven you're drowning in.

Imagine Bear Price who gets so sleepy as the nights get longer and colder. While he still gets the work done, and for the most part doesn't mind the 'old man' jokes his boys make, it's obvious how irritated he gets when he's forced to stay awake longer than he needs to; each extra second spent explaining to a muppet how to do his job makes his eyes darker and voice rougher until he's passively growling like a construction engine.

Luckily you're there to calm down the beast.

Groping his ass or scratching the base of his tail to distract him so you can kiss along his jaw and rub your cheek against his beard. "You're doing it again sir." You mutter, voice smooth and low enough to soothe his prickled mind. Kissing him sweet and slow so you can tug his lazy body back into his room, into his den, where you can give him what his mind and body craves the most — sweet sweet sleep. . . and you.

Imagine Bear Price who's chest rumbles with a purr without stopping the second you settle into his den, his clawed fingers sliding over and groping your naked skin with just as much love and adoration as you show him.

Wrapped in so many layers of blankets and furs, engulfed by his bulk and his own fur, you are so so warm that neither one of you need clothes. Price's favorite position is to hug you like a Teddy bear. Despite the irony, it lets him wrap his body around you so you're safe and protected, practically suffocating in his fur. Not that you mind, especially when Price can nuzzle his nose into your hair or skin, to breathe in your scent to his heart's content and purr low praises into your ear: "Good boy,"

And, if you're especially good, he lets you use his ass as a pillow. He'll growl and grumble about not being able to scent you or hold you, but he'll soon be sleeping peacefully with you slumbering on his large ass.

Imagine Bear Price who, between the long stretches of sleep, get's horny. It's a natural reaction from sleeping next to his naked mate, wanting to feel you and hear your moans, but he doesn't have the energy to actually fuck. His lethargy turns the feeling of languid arousal into Hell.

Both of you try to initiate a couple of times; fumbling beneath the sheets, wandering hands roaming and groping as far as they can reach, his teeth nibbling on your neck and your hungry lips laying hickeys on his thick neck. Not wanting to undo the tangle of limbs you two end up grinding against each other, breathing the same air between kisses as sweet pleasure burns in your belies.

Then you stop just long enough to grab the lube, and Price's mind, still half way in lala land, only needs a couple of seconds of inaction to pull him back into deep sleep. By the time you return to him he's already snoring, limbs reaching out to grip you tightly and pull you close, but all thoughts of sex are forgotten.

And Price is so, so, angry with himself when he wakes up and realizes he left you high and dry again, shame eating away at his stomach because what kind of bear leaves his mate unsatisfied? The unworthy kind.

Imagine Bear Price who's mind is blown when you suggest cockwarming. Hibernation is about sleeping and relaxing, not strenuous sex, so the thought of being able to feel you while still fulfilling his body's need to rest? Oh it gets him hard.

It takes a while to figure out the perfect position, Price is too big and heavy to lay on top of you without crushing you, and his fingers earn to grip and hold you close so spooning him viable either.

Finally you end up with him laying on his back, legs spread with you laying on top of him and oh, it's perfect. You can feel him purr as you slide inside his blistering hot hole, his strong arms wrapping around you and claws scrapping along your spine. "That's my boy, perfect f' daddy." He mumbles through the fog of sleep, throwing one heavy leg over yours to keep you close.

You can't help the shudder that races down your spine, his musky earthy scent curling in your nose and making your cock throb inside him. You only stretching him long enough to be able to take you without tearing something, and Price relishes the slight sting of pain nibbling on his nerves when your cock hardens.

You don't try to fuck him, by the time you're fully settled inside him he's already snoozing. A slow roll of your hips and the resulting tightening of his hole is enough to sate your lust when it arises, enough to keep you half hard and stretching him out. His pecs make such a good pillow, thick fluffy fur and chest hair tickling your skin, the slow and calm beating of his heart lulling you to sleep before you know it.

Imagine Bear Price who gets an insatiable sweet tooth. There’s not a single secret stash in his room that doesn’t have his favorite bottle of honey in it. Hell, there’s more honey hidden in his room than cigars.

And his lazy mind decides to combine his hunger with honey with his hunger for you.

"Hold still for daddy, baby boy." Price mumbles against your abdomen, big hand gripping your hip to keep you still so not a drop of the honey he drizzles on your cock goes to waste. "Good." He purrs, wide tongue lolling out of his mouth to lap at your tip, claws massaging the skin beneath them.

He can spend hours laying between your legs, lazily lavishing your cock with attention while satisfying his craving for sweets. Whine and moan as much as you want, uselessly buck your hips as best you can against his unfair strength, nothing will make him rush — with his energy drained he'll spend meticulous minutes following every vein on your cock with his tongue before he even thinks of gently suckling on your tip. "Relax my boy, just enjoy this." He mutters, lips pressed against the sticky flesh of your shaft.

And when he does take you into his mouth, it's just as slow. His mouth hangs open so you can see your tip resting on his tongue before he laps at your slit, drool and honey running down his chin and sticking the strands of his beard together. When all the honey is in his stomach he just drizzles more, nibbling on your thighs or stomach to keep his mouth and mind occupied with you before starting the torturous process all over again.

The slow torturous pleasure is easy to endure just so you can see his eyes light up when you start leaking precum.

Imagine Bear Price absolutely loves loves loves the salty tang your cum adds to the sweet honey, the delicate combination of flavor dancing on tongue and only fueling his gluttonous mind to demand more.

The distinct taste is the only way to cut through the fog of lazy pleasure in his mind, turning him greedy. Price mumbles and growls incoherent words around your cock as he swallows you down to the root, swallowing around you and holding you down when you try to buck up. "My boy tastes so good." He mumbles as he rises up, nuzzling his cheek against your weeping tip, looking up at you with hungry blue eyes. "Just for daddy, yeah?"

"Ye-yes sir." You whimper through your clenched teeth, your head lolling back against the pillows when he swallows you whole again, your tip bumping against the back of his throat. "Just fo- fuck, fuck,- just for you." You don't know how he doesn't choke on you but you don't have the mental faculties to even think about that when your brains are leaking through your cock.

Price smiles around your cock, the purr rattling his chest and making his throat vibrate around you. "Smart boy," He praises after he pulls off, precum and honey swirling on his tongue as he takes the moment to savor the taste. He knows how close you are, he can feel the cum churning your balls when he rolls them in his rough palm. "You can give daddy a bit more, can't you?"

You honestly don't know how long you will last.

Imagine Bear Price who can get so insatiable he growls like a tractor when you try to weakly push him off your cock, so aroused that you think even the slightest gust of wind will make you pop.

Price bites your thigh enough to hurt and only his hand squeezing down on the base of your cock keeps you from cumming. "And where do you think you're going boy?" He demands, claws digging into your skin to pull your hips closer, little kitten licks of his tongue driving you to the brink of madness.

"S-Sir!" You moan before you can stop yourself, your hips twitching uselessly against his hands, thighs shaking. "'m sorry, I'm fuck, I'm so close." You whimper, fat tears rolling down your cheeks. Every nerve in your system is on fire, pleasure so strong it's turned to pain along your body.

Price huffs, but his tight hold lessens. "It's alright sweet boy," He hums, placing a sweet kiss on your cock head. "I know how you can make it up to daddy."

Imagine Bear Price who's only placated when you slide your cock back inside him. Your muscles ache from the strength it takes you to hoist his heavy legs over your shoulders and keep them there, but your rewarded with the tightening of his sweet hole, a pleased rumble leaving his throat.

“G-good boy-.” He growls, long claws scratching down your back as you pound into him. Your thrusts are slow but deep, making his toes curl every time you bottom out, tip scraping his prostate and making his cock spurt a dollop of precum with every thrust. “Fucking daddy so deep. I taught you well, yeah?”

"Yes, yes, yes!" You agree to everything he says without hearing any of his words, your body moving automatically to bully your dick into him. Every thrust is heaven and every second spent pulling out from his tight heat is hell, the sensitive veins of your cock scraping against his walls.

He moans when you manage to clip his prostate with your thrusts, one clawed hand sliding down to grip your hip hard enough to bruise. "Harder boy," He demands, rolling his hips to meet you half way, other hand raising up to scruff you. "You can go har-hm!- harder. . . don't you wan- fuck, want to make daddy feel good?"

Clenching your eyes shut you slam into him as hard as you can, feeling the fat widening his frame jiggle with every hard thrust. Without thinking Price pulls your head down to smother you in his pecs, soft fluffy fur tickling your face as the ample flesh suffocates you. The sweet scent of honey mixed with his musk erases any vestiges of sentient thought in your head, leaving your animal brain to pick up the pieces — Pin him down harder and mate him, rut into him until he's roaring with his full chest, his hard cock slapping against your stomach.

Price reacts to the change in your behavior by pressing your face even harder against his chest, his walls clenching around your cock like a vice so you have to try harder to push into him. Price’s lips brush against your ear, voice low and rumbly. “My boy, come in daddy.” He urges you on, both legs now tightly wound around your waist so you can only hump your aching cock into him. “Co-mh!- cum, cum in me son, you want to be good for daddy right?”

That's all it takes to drive you over the edge, mind going black like a piece of paper as your orgasm rocks through you with the intensity of lighting. The sensation of your hot cum spilling into his hole triggers his own orgasm and he cums with a thunderous roar, sticky seed shooting across your abdomen.

You collapse on top of him, his legs keeping your softening cock inside him, not that you have even a single functioning muscle to try to pull out. His big hand cradles your skull, honey flavored lips placing soothing kisses on your temple. "That's my boy." Price murmurs, his chest rumbling with a soft purr. "Did so well for me." He yawns, eyelids fluttering as that fog of lethargy settles over both of you. "Now rest," The order is spoken in the softest voice he's ever used, and it works like a horse tranquilizer on you.

As you drift off to sleep, you feel his hole clench around your soft cock, the cum inside him squelching as his body unconsciously tries to persuade yours into filling him up just a bit more.

It's gonna be a long winter.

[creativewritersposts]

driving lessons - Lando Norris

summary; Lando Norris x f!reader.

Lando wants to teach you how to drive, but what if he's not as good as a professional teacher?

warning(s); maybe grammar errors, fluff, angst

author's note; loved this request!! had so much fun to write. ♡

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It's not like you're afraid to drive, it's more you never needed it. You lived in a city and could order a taxi or take the train. When you met Lando, he couldn't believe you didn't know how to drive. He annoyed you for months to learn this. So here we are, in your little fiat 500.

"Are you ready?", Lando steps inside the car door and groans like a grandpa. "You need a new car, it's a playmobil!", he talks out of his mind. You roll your eyes, he's driving fast cars and is formula one driver. Of course your little fiat is not his favorite, but you love it. It's small like you are.

"Yeah I'm ready", you begin to sweat. What if you mess it up? What if you crash into a tree? You would hurt your boyfriend!

He promised this morning; 'you don't need professional driving lessons because i can teach you'.

Lando touches under your seat and pushes the seat forward.

"You're a minion, make sure you can depress the accelerator pedal without getting back pain, baby", he explains, completely focused on his job to be the best teacher you ever had. You try to depress and it works. You nod, ready for the next step. "okay,car mirrors are ok for you?", he checks on it and leans more into your lap. "Yeah", you look inside all sides.

"Ok try to accelerate and change gear into the two", he crosses his arms, leaning on the window next to him, totally relaxed. You're a smart brain so he doesn't worry much. You learn fast. But when he looks in your direction, his opinion changes fast.

You're afraid, he can see it. Your leg is shaking, your breath stops for seconds until you do it - and you messed up to start the car. "Try again, baby", he giggles. Such a rookie mistake.

You try again, messing up again.

"Oh my gosh what are you doing?! Drepress with your foot and let's go", he gets impatient. "I try, Lando!", tears are forming in your eyes. You're not stupid but it could happen so many things. It's your first time in a car and don't know what to do.

"Do it!", he argues. You try and it worked. It actually worked.

You drive through the empty car park and grin like a winner when you drive to an actual road, "babe I'm better than you!", you laugh. Lando shakes his head, hiding the smile behind his hands, "sure, you're winning a race with 5kmh". "Can you overtake?", he annoys, seeing how you slowly crawl like a turtle behind a motorcycle. "No", you press your lips together, happy a bike drives before you. You can drive in peace and not too fast.

After some time he tells," now drive in reverse and park in", he shows you the space for lengthwise parking.

Oh no. It's not much place. "Lando I can't do it!", you sweat, fingers are clinging into the steering wheel.

"My whole house could park here! You can do it", he wants to support you. "to park lengthwise is easy plus your boyfriend is professional racer. Nothing can happen", he touches your tigh.

You tip on your car turn signals and drive reverse. "STOP!", Lando screams his lungs out and grabing after the wheel. Something crashed because it was loud. "Oh fuck!", he steps outside and touches his neck. "You crashed a car mirror!", his face turns red. "Oh no", was all you could tell in shock. You can't believe you are in trouble.

Tears are falling down, you're a loser. Lando is mad. Ready for some trouble with him you look in his face.

"It's the funniest thing i experienced as a driver", Lando laughs his ass off. He really does, happy tears in his eyes and his squeaky laugh. "Baby the whole car mirror is away!", he cries even more, hands between his nose.

"Stop laughing! It's not funny!", you are disappointed about yourself.

"I'm gonna call my manager and then I'll drive home, babe, everything will be alright", he smirks, walking on your side and opens the door. He knees down and hugs you. You can feel the vibration from his laughing. "I think you need professional driving lessons.", he kisses your lips under laughter.

"Damn my girlfriend is a savage".

[pretty-circa006]

Sex Ed

Coach! Negan x Student! F! Reader summary You have some follow up questions after Coach Negan's sex ed class tags student teacher relationship, age gap (reader is 18 negan is like pushing 40?), blowjob, pet names

wc: 1.9k

note i tried a little something new when writing this, can you tell what it is?

*you are responsible for your own content consumption. if this is something you DO NOT like, simply DO NOT read or interact! :) *

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Negan glowers at the students of his gym class sitting in the bleachers before him. They're all laughing like fools and making crude jokes that only displayed their immaturity. Seniors, they were supposed to be, but a majority of them acted like foolish middle schoolers.

"Listen up you dumb little sacks of shit!" he shouts. The students all quiet down, some getting startled by the loudness of his voice before doing so.

"I know a majority of you kids, well, technically young adults, are too immature to handle this shit, but the displeasure of teaching it to you has unfortunately been bestowed upon me." He slams his large hand on the whiteboard on wheels, bringing his students' focus to the topic of today's lesson; sex ed. His hazel-green scan his audience with distain, daring them to say anything stupid- nobody did, which is a relief. But that relief instantaneously turned into dread when his eyes landed on her. From her seat in the center of the bleachers, she stares at Negan while seductively biting her finger and giving him sultry bedroom eyes.

He sighs to himself, quickly averting his gaze. She was always, always looking at him like that. Like she's an apex predator and he's the prey she'd been stalking, waiting to pounce and feast on his flesh. At first, it freaked him out, constantly feeling her eyes boring into his skin. But it quickly became flattering to know he had a little admirer. She's always the first to his class, the first to pay attention to him, the last to leave, and the only student to frequent his office. If that's all she did, she would have been just been a girl with an innocent little crush. But her crush was anything but little or innocent. He should have been able to realize that when she'd show up to every gym class in the world's tiniest shorts. If not then, he should at least have noticed when she'd spend excessive amounts of time in his office. He brushed all that off, though, assuming the shorts weren't for him and that she just liked his office for the air conditioning and bowl of candy on his desk.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆

The lesson went by fairly smooth. Not many stupid joked were cracked, which was a win for Negan.

"Grab a complementary condom on your way out," he says as students get up from the bleachers, "and if you have any extra questions, you can come see me." He internally cringes at that last part. The internet was a thing and if students wanted to know something, they should look it up themselves instead of prolonging this awkward moment for him. But he had to do at least the bare minimum of what his job required him to do.

Thankfully, the students were just filing past him, some stopping to grab handfuls of condoms, and none of them stop to talk to him. The gymnasium is finally empty without a student in sight. Negan's honestly surprised she didn't stick around after class like she usually did, but he couldn't complain. He pushes his whiteboard back into his office and shuts the door behind him, ready to wind down and catch up on some work.

"Hey Coach."

"Jesus H. fuckin' Christ, kid!" A startled Negan shouts, hand clutching his heart. He finally notices the girl sitting at his desk in his chair with her feet propped up comfortably on the desk. He can't keep his eyes from scanning her legs, the smooth skin fully exposed from upper thigh to ankle.

She lets out a little giggle before her face returns to that usual seductive look.

"I had a question 'bout today's lesson," she tells him. Negan sighs and rubs a hand down his face, anticipating something wildly inappropriate to come from her mouth.

"Goddammit, kid, what is it?" he asks hesitantly.

"First off, stop calling me kid. I am eighteen," she explains, holding up a finger. "Second," she puts up another finger, "I want you to teach me something."

"That's not a question." She rolls her eyes at him and takes her feet off the desk.

"Will you teach me to give a blowjob?" Negan's eyebrows shoot up at the same time his eyes widen. She's dead serious too, looking at him with wide, hopeful eyes. Those same eyes drift from his down to the growing bulge in his gym shorts. She squeezes her thighs together and bites her lip.

"Darlin', you do know that what you're askin of me is wildly fuckin' inappropriate, right?" He's supposed to be serious, but the dimpled smirk on his face sends another message.

"You're supposed to be teaching sed ed, ain't ya?" she argues. His tongue swipes across his bottom lip, only riling up the oversexed girl even more.

"Inappropriateness aside, you couldn't handle all this," he says, motioning to his growing boner.

A smug smile makes its way across her face. She gets out of his chair, kneels in front of it, and pats the cushion, silently demanding him to take a seat. He takes a peak at her cute little ass that her tiny gym shorts were barely doing anything to cover. He figures that if he gives in to her demands, she'll realize that she, in fact, cannot handle what he's packing and will back off. He didn't particularly want her to shy away from him, but her forward behavior would pose a threat to his job sooner or later and he's not eager to get fired.

Fuck it. He locks the door to his office and sits in his chair. She's looking up at him through her long lashes, excitement radiating off of her.

"Well, ya can't suck my fuckin' dick through my fuckin' shorts."

"Oh. Right!" Her shaky hands reach toward the waistband of his gym shorts and he lifts his hips so she can pull them down just enough to free his cock. She lets out a little gasp when the large member springs up and slaps his abdomen. For the first time, her seductive, siren-like facade starts to slip, revealing a nervous, inexperienced girl. With a smug smirk on his face, he looks down at her. She talked so much game, but when it came time to play, she didn't even know how.

"I...I asked you to teach me, didn't I?!" she squeaks. She's embarrassed at how dumb she's sure she looks and even more so at the fact Negan's getting a kick out of this.

"Spit in your hand, doll. Then stroke it a few times," he instructs. She apprehensively spits a glob of saliva into her palm before gently wrapping her hand around him. She's mesmerized by his size, so thick her fingers couldn't touch. As she shyly moves her hand up and down his shaft, she occasionally glances up at him in search for his approval. There is none. He's unamused as he watches her. His wraps his larger hand around her smaller one and squeezes it tighter around his dick.

"Gotta put more presser than that, sweetheart, 'cause I can't feel a damn thing."

She nods her head and he removes his hand, letting her try again on her own. With her hand wrapped more tightly around his cock, she can feel every ridge of his veins rubbing against her fingers. Negan lets out a seemingly satisfied sigh which encouraged her to go faster. Her mouth makes an 'o' shape when she sees precum leaking from his reddening tip. She impulsively brings her head down to him and experimentally kitten licks the precum, before taking the entire tip into her mouth. She looks up at him again, but he's already looking down at her with lust darkened eyes.

"Go on, baby, you can fit more of me in that sweet little mouth of yours," he taunts. She lowers her head until his tip makes contact with the back of her throat, but even then he's not all the way in. His thick, throbbing member fills her mouth, resting heavily on her tongue. With more confidence, she begins bobbing her head up and down. Negan's hand grips a handful of her hair and stops her.

"Don't use your teeth," he corrects her. She chokes a 'sorry,' out from around his cock, the vibration from it feeling good. In her effort to not use any teeth, she hollows her cheeks, the spongy flesh of their insides caressing Negan as she bobs her head. With the hand that's still gripping her hair, Negan forces her to go a little faster, but doesn't push her all the way down on his cock. She picks up the pace on her own, causing Negan's grip to relax.

"That's it, darlin', you're takin' my cock so fuckin' good right now." Her nails dig into his thighs as she continues despite the pain in her tired jaw. His praise sends a wave of heat directly to her core causing her neglected cunt to clench over nothing. But his praise wasn't enough. She wants to hear his pleasure, to hear him moan and come undone in her mouth. She forces the remaining inches of him down her throat, but she immediately regrets it when she gags around him. But she's already in too deep and wouldn't dare dream of quitting now.

"Holy fuckin' shit, doll!" he pleasurably groans, "you are a goddamn dick suckin' natural!" She can feel him twitch inside her mouth, a telltale sign that he's close. Her own cunt throbs, despite receiving no attention. Both of his hands grip her hair as his restraints come undone and begins fucking her face. Exasperated profanities and moans fall from his mouth as she takes him so well.

"Want me to cum inside your throat, doll?" He gets out between pants. She hums an 'mmm hmm' as she tries to move in time with his thrusts. His head falls back against the chair and eyes slightly roll back as his hips rut into her mouth, burying her nose in his dark curls. As he shoots his hot load into her mouth, a guttural moan claws its way out of his throat.

He pulls his softening dick from her mouth and tucks it back into his shorts. He leans down and grabs her jaw so he can admire her pretty, cock drunk face. The trails of dark mascara tears dried on her cheeks and her lips are slightly swollen and her hair is a mess. She looks perfect.

"Open," Negan commands. She opens her mouth, showcasing to Negan his cum resting on her tongue.

"Now swallow." She does and maintains eye contact with him the whole time.

"That's my good fuckin' girl," he praises, causing heat to spread on her cheeks and down to her pussy. She stands up, using the desk behind her as support. Her knees are slightly bruised, a delicious sight to Negan.

"Thanks for teaching me, Coach," she says, her tone slightly teasing.

"Yeah, alright. I gave you want you fuckin' wanted, so get outta my goddamn office." He means what he said, despite how playful he sounded.

"But wait," she says stepping closer to him. He raises an eyebrow in response as she grabs his hand and brings it close. She puts his large hand in between her legs, forcing him to feel how wet he made her. He looked up at her a, his face morphing into a dark smirk.

"Don't you wanna return the favor, Coach?"

note and the answer is....present tense! i wrote this in present tense instead of my usual preferred past tense. thoughts?

[thisismeracing]

Falling (in love) | LH44 (Patreon Exclusive)

read the full piece here

― Pairing: stepdad!lewis x kindergarten teacher!reader (she/her) ― Warning: mentions food and sickness (fever); single!mom reader; family issues; not been proofread yet; 3k words. ― Summary: When your kid found a new friend in his new school, you did not expect that would mean you would find yourself friends too. And sure enough, you weren't expecting to fall for his friend's uncle.

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preview

A lot of things were unexpected that day.

First, the fact that Lewis was late to pick up his niece, but when he got there she wasn’t throwing a tantrum, quite the opposite. When she saw him she saw him, she came running through the school’s entrance with the biggest smile on her face when just earlier that week she made a fuss to go to class every morning – before and after getting there. 

The second was the smallest boy who was right behind her. His backpack swung from side to side, while Wendy ran up front turning every few seconds to giggle at him.

And just when Lewis thought those were the only two unexcepted things, you walked out of the door carrying a few books in your hands and a big bag on your shoulder, calling for Wendy and the smallest boy. 

“Uncle Lew!!!” His niece screamed before barreling into his legs and hugging him. He chuckled, bending down to kiss her mop of curls. “Have you met Leo?” 

“I don’t think so,” he shook his head just as the boy finally reached them. 

The kid’s version of a black Jordan and the styled curly hair made Lewis smile, that boy appeared to be around five but was already starring a fashion sense that a few older people hadn’t.

“Leo, you’ll give me a heart attack one of these days. You can’t go out running like this, honey,” your voice carried a serious but sweet tone simultaneously. 

Lewis’ eyes found you standing a few feet away, curly hair clipped away from your face by a few strands, a pencil skirt, and a cream blouse. The folder and books in your arms gave him a hint of what you were doing there, and his silent guess turned out to be true when Wendy turned with a toothless grin and introduced you: “This is Miss Yn, our new teacher!” She took a step to stand beside you looking up with a beaming face that reflected yours. “And this is Leonard, her son, my new classmate. They’re new here, can we introduce the city to them like we did with Jackie and Uncle Toto? Also, can we have playdates later? Can we go to the park? Can we–”

****

“Mamma, I don’t wanna eat,” Leo held his hands behind his back giving you his best puppy eyes and you chuckled. 

“How about you try a few bites and then go play with Dee, huh?” 

“Yeah, champ, you gotta make your body strong so you can run as fast as you can,”  Lewis tried, already cutting a sandwich in half for Wendy. “Have you ever tried vegan sandwiches?” He asked and Leo shook his head.

“I don’t like lettuce, mamma does though,” he shared, pointing his small finger at you.

“What do you mean you don’t like lettuce? Lettuce is exactly what makes us run even faster, it gives us tons of energy!” 

“It does?” the curly-haired boy asked, hands now on the side of his body and curious eyes watching the food in Lewis’ hands. 

“Yeah, I eat it all the time so I can drive my car in endless circles.”

You smiled watching the interaction. 

“How about you have a bite? You don’t have to eat it all, just a bite. But I bet you will want to finish it. This one has so many things that make us bigger and stronger.”

“Strong like you?” his big brown eyes now looking at Lewis’ biceps, and you chuckled at your kid's face when the driver curled his arms and flexed his muscles. 

“Yeah, strong just like me!” 

****

“They truly made a bond in a short time, huh?” You commented.

“Guess we’ll be seeing each other a lot more often,” Lewis bumped your shoulder with his and you smiled. You wouldn’t lie that the prospect of interacting with him more than you did the last week wasn’t a bad thing at all.

“I’m not opposed to that.” 

“Neither am I.” 

────── ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Hi! I hope you guys liked this lil sneak peek! Make sure to like and reblog if you did *mwah* and PLEASE, LET’S INDULGE IN THIS UNIVERSEEEE BECAUSE I'M ALMOST SURE THIS WILL BECOME A SERIES OF SOME SORT. I sorted a few ideas for "chapters" yet, but I won't be following the chapters format, but rather taking asks requests about them and publishing the blurbs and pieces <3

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©thisismeracing ― do not copy, steal, or translate my work; do not repost on a different media platform.

[pwinkprincess]

Girl, your writing is so freaking good!!!

I was Wondering how fratboy!gojo would react to reader pulling a TikTok prank on him like paying for „premium air“ or playing the sound „shawty, your man still around?“, would he get angry, thinking that she is cheating on him even though he is the King of cheating?

Thank you so much for your stories, they always highlight my day ❤️

thank u sm for reading babi 💗💗🎀🎀💞

after a session of toe curling sex, sensual kisses, and words of affirmation as part of aftercare, you and satoru finally untangled limbs and relaxed. usually, he puts you straight to sleep but today you felt restless and wanted to just run around. satoru’s breathing tingles your ear as he breathes shallowly.

his lips are pressed into an adorable pout, while his long white lashes flutter against his eye lids. he’s on his respective side, but he still made sure to keep his arm outstretched and touching you in some way.

you don’t usually play pranks on satoru, but you’re bored and you have been watching too many tiktok couples. with a sigh, you prepare yourself to get into character.

“gojo.” saying his last name felt extremely weird. that word is foreign on your tongue and you make a face as if it has an actual taste.

satoru stirs in his sleep but doesn’t wake up. you roll your eyes and say his name again, but louder. “gojo!” you say while patting his side.

he jumps up, looking at you in worry. “what?!”

you clench your teeth together for a few seconds to keep yourself from laughing. you force out a sigh and jump up from your bed. you begin rapidly pacing around your room, pretending to pick up things and put them in their respective places.

“you gotta go! he’s on his way!” you exclaim. you pick up his discarded clothing and throw it at his face. “hurry!”

“who is he?!” satoru frowns. he’s freshly awakened and nothing you’re saying is making sense at the moment.

“my boyfriend!” you have to turn your back to him so that he can’t see the smile that made its way onto your lips.

the room goes extremely quiet, a pen could drop and echo throughout the room. you pretend to busy yourself by picking up your own disregarded clothing and putting them on. once you’re dressed, you look over at satoru who’s staring at you with a look in his eyes. your heart almost drops from his death stare.

“can you get up? i have to change the sheets.”

“boyfriend?” he parrots.

“yes. my boyfriend. now, get up and go. please, he said he’ll be here in twenty minutes.”

satoru just stares at you. you have a stare off with him, not saying anything to each other. satoru breaks the contest first. he chuckles to himself as he slides off of the bed and begins dressing himself.

“i hope he knows how to fight.” satoru tells you while stomping his foot into his shoe.

“huh?! you’re not gonna fight my boyfriend, gojo.” you watch as his head snaps towards you when you say his last name.

“you’re full of shit. y’know that? does he know that you break down when i don’t give you enough attention throughout the day? does he know that i took your virginity? you’ve never said shi—” he cuts himself off by just sighing and running his hands down his face.

“we can argue later, jus’ go.” you dismiss him.

“delete my number.” he says as he walks towards your dorm room door.

you realize he’s serious and you quickly break character.

“toru! wait! i was playing!” you’re grabbing at his wrist to stop him from walking away for good.

he looks down at you. his skin is flushed from how angry he had gotten. his breathing is harsh and he has this faraway look in his eyes.

“you lying?”

“there’s no other guy. jus’ you toru. jus’ you.” you reason with him. you’re pulling him back into your room, and standing on your tippy toes to place your lips against his. as the kiss begins, he doesn’t immediately kiss back. not until you whimper out a weak “daddy, please.”.

once he calms down and he’s absolutely sure no other guy is coming, he sits back down on your bed.

“you play too much.” he lectures bitterly.

“you were sooo mad.” you giggle, kissing on his jaw.

“was not.” he argues, knowing very well that he was in fact mad.

[000-pawz]

princess treatment (bnd) ˚ · .

ot6 headcanons , fluff , just bonedo treating u like the princess u r!!! (gn reader)

rest of the members under the cut!

a/n: 2am brainrot takeover hi

sungho ˚ ⋆｡˚

𐙚₊˚ always pulls you into his lap whenever possible!!! loves having you close to him and it gives him an excuse to be a little possessive for a bit...><

𐙚₊˚ gives you random gifts and flowers just because he the smile you give him every time (and the thank you kisses too)!!! you'll wake up to a text from him saying "check your mailbox <3" and boom, there's a brand new necklace in there, all shiny and pretty...(he also asks you to wait to put it on so he can do it himself)

𐙚₊˚ puts on your socks and shoes for you!!! pecks your leg after pulling your socks up because he duh.... you are royalty!!! even stops in the middle of the sidewalk to tie your shoes if your laces come undone

𐙚₊˚ cooks for you all the time!!! if you even slightly mention craving something, he's in that kitchen before you can even blink >< he lets you sit on the counter and feeds you little bites to taste test because you're his mini chef!!!

˚ ⋆｡˚ riwoo

𐙚₊˚ if you order something and you don't like it, he'll happily trade his food with you <333 he's content just seeing you eating well

𐙚₊˚ sings you to sleep and strokes your hair...and if you've been struggling with sleeping lately, he'll stay up with you until you fall asleep first so you don't get lonely :<

𐙚₊˚ if he sees something that reminds him of you at the store, trust that he'll be buying it in .3 seconds..."oh y/n would like this", "this is y/n's favorite color", "they were thinking about getting one of these"... like he's always thinking of you

𐙚₊˚ "i don't ever want you to be upset, darling. let's talk about this, okay?" like he's so serious about communication. he values your point of view and input over anything and makes sure you always feel seen and heard!!!

jaehyun ˚ ⋆｡˚

𐙚₊˚ opens every single door for you because why would his s/o ever have to touch a dirty door handle when he's literally right there???

𐙚₊˚ writes you lengthy handwritten notes and poems...sneaks them in your bag when you aren't looking or leaves them on your side table to wake up to <3

𐙚₊˚ surprises you with a bubble bath and tea when you get home from a stressful day...gives you a massage after and encourages you to vent to him so he can hold some of your burdens for you :((

𐙚₊˚ brags about you!!! he loves sharing your achievements with people, showing you off to everyone he knows because he's so proud of you and so so so lucky that you chose him <3

˚ ⋆｡˚ taesan

𐙚₊˚ your personal photographer!!! takes pics of you all the time, whether you ask him to or not (he prides himself in getting the perfect candids for your feed)

𐙚₊˚ notices the super small things... like oh you don't like tomatoes in your food so he picks them all out for you <3 and he knows you always carry chapstick in your bag, so he buys you a bunch so you never run out

𐙚₊˚ buys you so... many... clothes... you're sure more than half of your wardrobe is made up of taesan's contributions... it's not his fault you look good in everything!!! he just has to get everything for you so he can see you in it himself <3 (and mayyyybe show you off to everyone else)

𐙚₊˚ makes you personalized mixtapes and writes love songs about you!!! (for your ears only!!)

leehan ˚ ⋆｡˚

𐙚₊˚ "hey beautiful", "you're so gorgeous", "my pretty baby" and any other sappy compliment he can give you at every waking hour of the day

𐙚₊˚ chivalry is not dead for as long as leehan is around!!! he'll give you his coat if you're cold, walks on the outside of the curb to keep you safe, carries your purse/bag for you, pays for all your dates (even if you insist on splitting the bill), etc.

𐙚₊˚ he does all of the planning for trips and he's so intentional and thoughtful about everything so you never have anything to worry about other than being pretty and enjoying yourself <3

𐙚₊˚ loves giving you his clothes to wear like nothing makes him happier than seeing you in his big hoodies and t-shirts!!! he'll even take his hat off and place it on your head simply because "you look cuter with it" like he's so obsessed

˚ ⋆｡˚ woonhak

𐙚₊˚ #1 hype man!!! even if you aren't feeling too confident, he'll be showering you in compliments and praise because you're always beautiful to him, no matter what

𐙚₊˚ leaves you a bunch of texts throughout the day just to check in on you, sends you silly selfies, makes sure you've eaten, and if he asks you to recap your day to him, you better type 4 whole paragraphs about every single detail or he won't accept it ><

𐙚₊˚ posts you every. single. day. like it's actually crazy... you'll click on his Instagram story and boom, there's a cute picture of you picking flowers at the park with the caption 'they're the prettiest flower in the world' and it's so so so cheesy but it makes your heart flutter every single time

𐙚₊˚ shares your hobbies!!! if you're into crocheting, he will sit there for 3 hours making a blanket with you...or if you like to do makeup, he'll let you practice on him!!!

reblogs are greatly appreciated! thank u...<3

masterlist

[zegrasdrysdale]

qh43 headcanons

fluff and smut

warning(s) : smut !

author's note : did i write 80% this while on my break at work ? absolutely (i was bored)

༺═──────────────═༻

fluff !!

you and Quinn were just friends at first

you both had crushes on one another for years though

then one summer you were both at the lake house in Michigan after you got an invitation from Jack and one thing led to another and by the time Quinn returned to Canada for the season, he was referring to you as "my girl"

Quinn keeping his captaincy a secret from you until it was officially announced by Vancouver and the NHL

you yelled at him about that

Quinn offered to get a C put on every one of his jerseys that you owned (which admittedly was a lot despite not being together for very long when he got the C)

you got tickets to the first Canucks home game to watch the captain's ceremony where Quinn got his new jersey

you surprise him after the game since he withheld getting the captaincy in the first place

he's a very big fan of kissing his girl. he'll steal kisses whenever he can, but especially when he comes back from a long roadie and you’re at his apartment

his love languages are very much physical touch and quality time. Quinn loves spending time with you and if it ends with cuddles, or a make out session, then he's very happy

you often visit him in Vancouver, most of those visits being surprises

you go to both Hughes Bowls even though Jack was hurt for the second one, and you wear one of your Quinn jerseys to both

you're very close with Luke and Jack and have been since you were all kids

you're also friends with some of the guys on the Canucks as well, notably Elias Pettersson and JT Miller

Quinn invites you to the All Star game in February and you accept. spending a weekend in Toronto with Quinn and Jack doesn’t sound like the worst idea in the world

you spend every summer at the lake house

Quinn gets you a necklace with a ‘Q’ on the chain for your first anniversary. you get him a chain with your name on it in return, and he wears it for every game

you beg him not to cut his hair or shave his beard and mustache after getting eliminated from the playoffs, but he does it anyway

Jack takes all the credit for your entire relationship since he is the one that invited you to the lake house the summer that you and Quinn got together

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

smut / nsfw !!

Quinn has a thing for you riding his thighs. he loves watching you get off using his thighs, and he’ll let you come as many times as you want

you think Quinn’s beard is hot so you never mind a little beard burn when he goes down on you, which is more often than not

he’s a giver. he’ll have you coming all over his tongue as many times as he wants. he’ll go down on you until your entire body shakes

you (not so) accidentally find out about his captain kink that neither of you knew he had. you had read about it somewhere and decided to give it a try one night …

and he made you come so much that you were in tears by the end it the night (oversensitivity is a thing that you wish didn’t exist)

Quinn loves when you use him to come. thighs, face, fingers, cock. it doesn’t matter to him

on the other hand, you completely give yourself to him if he has a bad game or a rough loss. he uses you to get off and blow off some steam, and you will let him

sneaking around the lake house to have sex is a big thing, especially at first. no one knew so the two of you would have to sneak off. then everyone knew so you were a little less discreet about it

there was boat sex on the lake once late at night one summer too. Quinn is not opposed to that happening again, but not when a bunch of people are at the house and notice when the boat is a mess

car sex is a big thing, especially when Quinn picks you up from the airport when he knows you’re coming to visit. he knows a bunch of spots to drive to so the two of you can hook up (he buys a bigger car and puts it to use in more ways than one)

lazy, morning sex !!

quickies !!

Quinn loves holding your hand during sex. he makes sure your fingers are laced together every. single. time.

༺═──────────────═༻

HC MASTERLIST

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[jolieblack]

Something finally came to me! (I usually can’t write to prompts to save my life.)

May Prompts 2024 by @calaisreno

May 24th: Imperfect

We've always done things the wrong way round.

We moved in together at a time when we knew no more than four or five facts about each other. Significant facts, granted, such as John being a war veteran and me having no patience with idiots, but neither of us could have claimed to have had anything even close to the full picture at the time. I sometimes wonder what would have happened if either of us had. Only on my really bad days, though.

I don’t have all that many of those any more, luckily. And when I do, I have plenty of good memories to help me pull myself up again. Take the ones of how we confessed our love to each other to a beautifully decorated room full of people in festive dress and in even more festive spirit, to much applause and cheering and well-wishing. Yes, you heard that plural right. Those are two separate memories, years apart and in two different places. I got to go first, and it wasn’t even me who was getting married at the time. That’s another thing that most couples would do differently. Coordinate it a bit better, at least.

The second time around, as a lot of you will remember well, it was John's turn to talk, and I‘d been told in no uncertain terms to keep my mouth shut and say nothing, not even to correct his grammar, till he was done. I can now attest that it is true that the groom never gets to have a say in anything at his own wedding. Someone got his late revenge there. And believe me, that doesn’t depend on whether it’s one groom or two. Yes, and I know there are still people out there even in this day and age who feel that it’s not normal to have two grooms at all. They can all go away and never show their ugly faces again where I can see them, or smell the foul breath of the bigoted filth they’re spouting. That’s not the wrong way around, that couldn’t be more right for both of us.

But we did other things the wrong way around, too. In most romantic stories, killing someone to save the person you love is usually the culmination of long mutual trust and dedication. It‘s supposed to be the crowning glory, the final sealing of a bond that has long been in the making. It’s not supposed to be the starting point. And John is usually the more patient of the two of us, but when it came to this, he could barely contain himself for 36 hours after our very first meeting before he did it. Ever heard of timing and pacing, Doctor, I hear you people wonder? And he’s supposed to be the one with the talent for good storytelling. The timing was good, though. The timing was excellent. There’s another 'what if' for you that is no fun to contemplate at all.

There is killing out of love, and - I have to say it, I can’t not, I‘d be lying by omission if I didn't - there's also dying out of love. I doubt, however, that there’s anyone out there who has ever put a more elaborate effort into pretending to die out of love than I have. As far as I‘m aware, that’s not really a romantic convention, either, and I sincerely hope I haven’t started a trend. I honestly can’t recommend it. Effort is well and good, and I dare say the execution in my case was flawless, but I can’t deny there was a certain lack of forethought as to the emotional impact on both parties concerned. Don‘t try this at home, folks.

People also usually date first, then start cohabiting, then get married, then raise children together. Please don’t ask me to define at what time in our lives exactly John and I were dating and when we weren’t yet. To this day we have never been able to agree on a definition for this mysterious activity that emphatically, according to John, for whatever reason, does not encompass two people who like each other going out together and having fun. But it is an undisputed fact that we had been raising a child together for a good while before we got married. And we have been going out together and having fun for years uncounted now. Crime scenes never fail to work that particular magic on us. Oh wait, no, that was another example I had on my list for what most other couples do differently. Hang on, do I see a certain Chief Inspector of Scotland Yard raise his hand in objection? Raising both hands, actually, showing us… what, seven fingers? Is that the number of couples working for the Metropolitan Police that you know personally who have met at crime scenes? Or are you reminding us of the number of times John and I were actually kicked off a crime scene because we were enjoying ourselves entirely too much, and were told not to come back till we could behave like adults? I could have sworn those were more than seven occasions, but I‘ll take your word for it.

Talking of raising a child together, I‘m sure Rosie will say a word or three about that herself later, but I have never understood why most of you had doubts about the practicability of that particular endeavour. Let me just tell you that a baby carrier is entirely compatible with a cashmere scarf, or didn’t you know cashmere can absorb up to a third of its own dry weight in liquid? And it got only easier from there when Rosie grew older and stopped affectionately drooling on whoever enjoyed the happy privilege of holding her and carrying her around. She hasn’t demanded being carried around in a good while now, and I don’t know what our poor old backs would say to that these days. But we were talking about happy memories, weren’t we, so there’s another. And at least in the metaphorical sense, I hope you know, Rosie, that you’ll be held and carried for as long as you want and need, as long as we both live. You were my daughter even before I was your father’s husband, and that has been one of the greatest honours bestowed on me in my life.

Because this is who we are, isn’t it, our crazy little family, where nothing is as you’d expect it to be. But we still wouldn’t have it any other way, topsy-turvy, weird, flawed and utterly imperfect, but also utterly us, unique, one of a kind. I don’t know if it was fate that threw us together, or if it really was just a whim on the part of the comfortable, corpulent, bespectacled gentleman sitting at this table over here, smirking with his trademark benevolence. But there’s a debt of gratitude to be paid there, and today is a good day to do it. In this at least, we’re doing the conventional thing, but who’s to say we’re not allowed to do that at least once in a quarter-century.

So, ladies and gentlemen, dear friends and family from far and wide, I give you: John Watson, the man of my life, the man at my side for over thirty years, and for exactly twenty-five years in the legal sense on this very day. Please raise your glasses with us to the next twenty-five. And for God’s sake stop snivelling like that, Mycroft. You’re embarrassing the whole room.

[norraexploradora]

The Tragedy of the CX Troopers and the Missed Opportunity to Teach Us All an Important Lesson

A deeper look into how the CX-Troopers were handled in the Bad Batch and the narrative surrounding them that unfortunately got dropped in season 3

I want to start off by applauding the Bad Batch for the brave attempt to tackle dark topics throughout the series and presenting them in a way that is appropriate for families to watch and discuss with their children. Most of series is successful in being just dark enough to raise tension but to also keep things suitable for a child’s first glimpse into the harsh realities of life. However there still a few places that missed the mark.

The one I wish to cover today is the inconsistent narrative surrounding the CX-Troopers. I’m not here to say it was bad writing per se, but if a dark topic is discussed in a family oriented tv series, it is best to commit adequate time to truly flesh it out so the messaging is clear. Subjective is great in a mature series like Andor, but kids lack the life experience required to read between the lines.

And yes, exposition does make dialogue sound clunky at times, but there is a reason why most cartoons in the 80s had the kind of “The more you know” lesson after each episode. The Bad Batch was no different. Tech’s speech in the Crossing and his encouragement to Omega at the end of Retrieval are perfect examples of this.

In my opinion, there was an opportunity for an important lesson to be learned from the CX Troopers that was brought up but left unfinished. These shadow operatives could have been a way to show the viewer how anyone can be “brainwashed” either by force or by clever manipulation.

One operative in season 2 called himself a “Believer” which seems to evoke he was forcibly submerged into a cult-like indoctrination. It’s also why I prefer to use the phrase “coercive persuasion” or “forced persuasion” instead of brainwashing as they are a more accurate description of the process that has been historically implemented by governments, cults, and captors in order to make good people believe in or do horrible things.

Dr. Hemlock’s use of forced persuasion on select clones to turn them into CX-Troopers is a interesting look into the real world and well-documented cases of brainwashing within fascist regimes; especially in wartime settings. It is common and disturbing tactic implemented in moments of great despair and something that deserves more focus within the narrative if it is to be brought up as a major plot point.

Most of the brainwashing aspects in the Bad Batch were rapidly glossed over probably due to time and budget constraints, and not so much by the dark and disturbing imagery. One can easily get the “idea across” without showing it explicitly. (Like Crosshair having his hand chopped off. We didn’t see it but yeah, we get the gist).

I will say however, that despite the mystery surrounding brainwashing in the CX-Program, one of the more poignant moments was Captain Rex telling a caught CX Trooper that he was still their brother and that they would help him. It was a beautiful show of compassion and introduced new plot element; that the soldiers who undergo forced persuasion could possibly be reached or even saved.

It’s not a stretch to believe that the Bad Batch would take this route given the series had built up “we don’t leave our own behind” as one of the main themes. It would also be safe to say that saving fictional heroes from brainwashing gives us hope that real life survivors can recover from such trauma.

It was one of the many reasons fans were led to believe that the mysterious CX-2 operative could have been Tech or Cody. The focus on this particular shadow operative gave rise to speculation that he was different, that there was something coming to shed light or hope that a lost soldier could be found and rescued; something that would make sense of it were a character we already cared greatly about.

Alas, CX-2 was kept a mystery box that gave no insight to the tragic nature of his existence nor gave us a reason to mourn his death. That is why the battle between the Bad Batch and Hemlock’s Batch of secret operatives felt rushed and incomplete to some viewers. There wasn’t proper time for the story to breathe beyond “One Batch is good, the other Batch is bad.”

There were simply too many dropped narratives throughout the final season that reduced the whole CX Trooper plot to a video game-esque final boss battle. Don’t get me wrong, it was an amazing fight, beautifully animated, terrifying, and intense; but nevertheless, it felt hollow because the build-up went nowhere.

At that’s exactly where the narrative around the tragic nature of brainwashing got lost.

It’s important for you to know that I’m not saying the Bad Batch killing these operatives in the final fight was wrong. I’m also not saying that they should have tried to reach out to save these Shadow Operatives in the middle of of a life and death situation. It’s just unfortunate that we were never given a reason to feel anything other than relief that the CX-Troopers were killed.

And yes, this is a show about the Bad Batch and not brainwashed mystery troopers, but I stress, the writing set up these characters and introduced a very dark and disturbing concept to young viewers. With more time and effort spent on the narrative, it could have been an important lesson that applies to real life.

Coercive Persuasion is not a fantasy concept. It is very very real. Sleep deprivation, isolation, abuse, constant interrogation, drugging, shame, and humiliation, are all various means to break down a person’s will and forcibly persuade them into believing anything.

One can simply look to how many people get forced into false confessions by unethical police practices, or those who end up committing atrocities due to cult leader manipulation. A more common and less obvious example is social media outlets designed to spin conspiracy theories; coercing people into believing anything they want, like like the Earth is flat and microchips were put in Covid vaccines. By preying upon people’s anger and fear, these sites cultivate distrust and can lead one to extremist thinking.

This is real world, dark and scary stuff that needs to be handled with serious care and consideration of bringing it into an animated Star Wars series.

So given more time and budget, how could this lesson be shown through the story of the Bad Batch? How could these brainwashed operatives been presented in a way to that is scary but still gives younger audiences a way to sympathize with them?

Shedding more light on a terrifying process would remind us the CX-Troopers are victims and despite their terrifying nature, they still deserve our compassion and empathy. So giving the operatives more of a backstory is a good start.

For Example:

Showing the transformation of at least one of these operatives before the final battle would provide more emotional impact after their demise. Having kids clearly, and not subjectively, understand that under those cool costumes there used to be good men is such an important lesson. It reinforces the narrative that the real villains aren’t these soldiers but the regime that warped their minds and forced them into mindless monsters.

To be clear, this a a family series and I am in no way implying that a clear visual of lengthy torture would be acceptable. There are already hints through Crosshair’s PTSD and that is enough to get the idea across.

My suggestion would have been to place the sniper clone who eventually became CX-2 in the cell next to Crosshair while on Tantis. The viewer gradually sees these two men go back and forth to their cells after these conditioning sessions and the witness bond that forms between them. Crosshair is forced to see CX-2’s identity slip more and more away after each session until he is no longer the person he once was. The sadness and loss of seeing this man lose his identity not only leaves a mark on Crosshair, but by the viewer as well.

The scene of the shadow operative watching Crosshair on Tantiss and the one shadow operative calling him “brother” would have made more sense in retrospect. In addition, having an emotional and clear connection between Crosshair and the man who became CX-2, would have given their epic fight on top of the waterfall more emotional weight. CX-2’s line “You could have been one of us. You made the wrong choice” would be more resonant to the viewer. CX-2 would literally be a sniper shadow operative that Crosshair could have become verses a subjective mystery box.

To further this narrative and Crosshair’s character arc, making the above change to the story could have also opened the door to Crosshair eventually saving this lost brother. Omega’s determination to never give up on Crosshair could have resulted in Crosshair reaching out to CX-2 and eventually getting through to him before the final battle. It would have been so emotional and fulfilling.

And yet…as lovely as that would have been, I realize the above scenario would require at least one additional episode; which the animation team probably didn’t have the luxury or the budget to do. So I’ll offer another solution:

Adding a few minutes here and there during season 2 and the beginning of season 3 dedicated to Hemlock’s treatment to the CX-Troopers and other Clone prisoners would give the viewer a clearer picture into the nature of the CX Program. The result would be that the feeling of triumph wouldn’t be seeing the shadow operatives lying dead on the floor but knowing that the experimentation on the clones at Tantiss by Dr. Hemlock was finally over.

So in conclusion:

It’s a shame that the shadow operatives were left a mystery and simply became foils and metaphors. The fight at the end was nothing more than the Batch having to kill or be killed and it failed to showcase a serious topic with less black and white thinking.

With more time, the writers could have explored the tragedy of forced coercion. Discussing a difficult subject in a manner fit for young audiences could leave them with awareness when they are faced with a similar real world scenario.

The CX-Trooper plot could have also been a good way for a parent to discuss what coercive persuasion does to people; especially in today’s world where social media is rife with bad people luring in youth and manipulating their anger and fear into extremist thinking.

Think about it.

How does someone get so isolated that they fall prey to extremism and they end up committing acts of terrorism? How does one get indoctrinated into a cult and become so brainwashed that they take their own lives or the lives of others at the behest of a cult leader? How would an innocent person sign a confession of a crime they didn’t commit?

These are all good questions that people often ask after horrendous real life events and can regularly be seen on the daily news and social media. Having a fictional metaphor for scary real world issues that children could easily understand would be exactly the kind of thing Star Wars was created for. It was also created to give children and all of us hope.

So in the end, the lesson should have been that people who fall victim to brainwashing aren’t weak or gullible. They have been put through extreme duress and put through unethical means of isolation and manipulation.

And if there is hope for even one of the CX-Troopers to be saved, we as a society should have empathy and try to reach out to those in our own lives who have been a victim of coercive persuasion before writing them off.

Disclaimer:

One thing I’ve learned in life is that platforms like Twitter are not places for deep discussions and good faith arguments. You have a set number of letters to get your ideas across and interpreting the meaning or tone always leads to misunderstandings.

That is why I’m coming to to Tumblr to discuss my deep dives into season 3 of the Bad Batch. I am the type of person who doesn’t like angry, confrontational sparring over ideas.

My goal is to shed light on a different perspective; not to make anyone agree with me, but just to understand that we can all watch the same show and interpret things differently due to our own life experiences. By explaining my viewpoints, I’m showing you into my thought process. You are certainly free to disagree but I’m not trying to change your feelings on the matter, nor do I wish for anyone to forcibly change mine.

We can all exist in the same space and I encourage anyone who has a different view to write an analysis of their own instead of arguing in anyone’s comment section. Be kind and respectful and most of all, remember this is fiction and subjective interpretation. There are so many things to be really angry about in the world and Star Wars is the least of our worries.

Cheers and as always, May the Force be with you!

[mandaplease10]

A Polin Take Nobody Asked For #1

Here I'll be yapping about different things I've noticed from Polin's Story in the Bridgerton Series. Don't know how many parts this will be, but here goes the first!

Colin's Fake Persona

Most of us (with media literacy) realize that the Colin when see in the beginning of season 3 is not the real Colin. He has traveled and returned to the Ton with this new personality to try and fit into society and the other men.

Many have stated that this is because he acts this way (flirting, brothel visits, etc) because he is simply mimicking the actions of the other gentleman and his own brothers. This all makes sense and it is a very good take, but then I took a deep dive and came up with this.

What if the reasoning behind this new Colin is actually because of Pen and what happened last season.

Let me explain:

We learn from Colin that Pen didn't respond to his letters while he was away despite him constantly writing to her. It is never really mentioned or inferred that he stopped writing to her due to her non replies, so it seems like he had hope that she would respond one day.

Now, we know that Pen and Colin have always remained in touch whenever he was gone away based on previous seasons, which meant that he always had Pen to rely on to share his adventures with through his letters and still had a piece of home with him by reading her letters.

Fast forward to him returning this year and despite this new personality he still seeks out Pen. When he greets his family, he instantly looks around for Pen because she has always been there with his family when he returned in the past. Once he realizes she's not there, he glances over towards her house, as a reflex.

Then at the debutante event he seeks her out again and when he finds her can't wait to see and talk to her. In his mind, he thinks everything is okay and they'll jump right back into their old friendship.

But then she keeps their conversation short and he realizes that something is different with Pen. At this point he thinks it is from whatever is going on between Pen and Eloise, which could also not be helping the case, but isn't really the main reason.

Then we see their next interaction at the ball and once again, Colin seeks her out. He notices her when she walks in and even looks towards her direction once more even after everyone else has moved on. He again, notices that she leaves and is upset, despite being surrounded by the Fife and his friends and trying to keep up with the persona, he has to check on Penelope.

It's in this moment he finds out about why Pen is upset with him and as soon as he realizes this, that previous act, falters and he wishes to make things right, but Pen won't have it and walks away.

It's looking back at his words in this moment mixed with what we learn from his journal entry and just the overall arc of his character in these four episodes that got me thinking.

We hear from Colin that he missed Pen because she never responded to his letter. He missed their connection, their friendship, their conversation, his feeling of home, etc. So, while on his travels, he decided to seek out such a connection in the only way he knew how and that was by taking on the rake persona because that's the only gentlemen experience he knew.

I mean think about it, he was very young when his father died and we don't really know if Edmund had his own rakish days since he and Violet fell in love so young, so he only has his brothers to look up to as well as the rest of the rake bros in the ton.

Yet, we also know despite him taking on this new personality and action, he never did find that connection or fill the longing he was feeling from missing Penelope. The only reason why he keeps up with this act for so long is because he finally was feeling accepted by everyone, even his own family, so he felt like this was who he was supposed to be.

But when he realizes that what he feels for Penelope isn't just platonic love or feelings, he slowly starts to take off the mask and become the person he really is because Penelope accepts him.

Honestly, there is more I could say about this one topic, but this is already long enough. Ha

P.S. I will add that I really would love a prequel about Violet and Edmund. I know that Julia Quinn doesn't want to write it because of Edmund dying, but I still think Shonda and Netflix could do a similar spin off like Queen Charlotte where it's not their whole story, just the beginning. I definitely think Colin is similar to Edmund and it would be lovely to see any parallels between Edmund/Violet and Colin and Penelope 's love story.

[fluentmoviequoter]

The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

✵ Part 2 of what is now a sweet, soft Tim moments miniseries!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!rookie!reader

Summary: Tim Bradford cares more about you, his boot, than he should. He has a dream about you and realizes that he's in a bad spot.

Warnings: fluff, minor angst, Tim and r making things hard on themselves

Word Count. 1.0k+ words

A/N: Many thanks to the kind words of @elephants-bubbles-brachosauruses @writings-of-a-demigod and @newobsessionweekly on the first part! Thanks for the inspiration and love! Here's more soft Tim realizing how he feels.🤍

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

“Well, what do you think?”

Tim watches you spin in the new outfit before you place your hands on your hips and look at him. He’s been waiting outside the dressing room for too long, but he can’t find it in himself to ask you to leave. 

“It’s beautiful. So were the last five,” Tim tells you. 

“That’s not helpful,” you lament. “I have to pick the best one!”

“It’s a charity dinner, not your wedding. Just pick what you like, what you feel good in, and let’s go. We do have a shift to finish.”

“We have fifteen more minutes of our lunch break,” you point out. “Let me try on one more.”

Tim stands and counters, “Only if I get to pick it.”

“Okay,” you agree softly. “I’m in room 2.”

Tim nods and turns like he’s on a life-dependent mission. He navigates through the racks of clothing as if a suspect is hiding in them. When he finds something he thinks you’ll like and knows you’ll look great wearing, he picks it up and returns to the dressing room. 

“You’re making this harder than it needs to be,” he says as he passes the hanger over the door. 

“And you always make things so easy,” you argue playfully. “Oh, this is nice.”

Tim returns to the plush chair in the waiting area and leans back. His belt digs into his side, but he doesn’t bother to move. He’d prefer to leave than to find a new position. When you emerge in Tim's suggested outfit, you smile at him, and Tim stands quickly. 

“That’s the one,” he murmurs. 

“I think so too. You have better taste than I anticipated, Bradford.”

You return to the dressing room to change into your uniform again, and Tim feels like he has been kicked in the chest. Everything about this has been domestic, slow, just you and Tim, but then you called him Bradford. And, when he stands beside you in the checkout lane, both dressed in patrol blues, Tim is cruelly reminded that you are his rookie, partners at most, and this was just a convenient trip for you. 

“Thank you,” you whisper. “For coming with me, for putting up with me, being so nice. Everything.”

“Of course,” Tim answers. 

“I, uh, I was wondering if you had an outfit for the dinner?”

“I’ve got a suit somewhere in my closet.”

You nod and look down at the outfit draped over your arm. 

“I think you need one more thing,” Tim adds. 

“What? I’ve got the outfit, shoes, a-“

“A date,” Tim interrupts. “Do you… would you want to go with me? As more than two cops from the same station?”

You look at him wordlessly and shift on your feet. Tim immediately begins to regret asking and tries to find a way to make a joke or a reason to call you boot and put everything back in perspective. 

“I’m sorry,” he decides on. 

“No, I want to say yes, I just assumed you were kidding.”

“Why?” Tim questions, reaching toward you. 

“You were nice to me the day that I got my hand sliced open, but you told me then that-“

Tim wakes when his arm jerks. He expects to feel you beside him, but as he sits in his bed, in his house, in his lonely existence, he realizes it was all a dream. He was nice to you that day, but he wonders if there’s something he could do now to show you it wasn't a one-off kindness. You’re his rookie, but Tim needs more. 

“Oh,” he murmurs as everything sinks in. He dreamt about you because you affect him and his emotions more than you’ll ever know. That date, the touch he misses without ever feeling, everything about the dream was the unconscious pursuit of Tim’s true desires. 

“This is bad, Kojo,” Tim mumbles. “Very bad.”

The following morning, Tim can’t make eye contact with you. He hasn’t been nervous around a woman since he and Isabel were dating. As he sidesteps you to avoid touching you, he wonders if there is any chance you want it, too. There’s too much risk, he decides; your safety and his judgement are more important than his feelings or some high school-level crush on the one girl he can’t get. 

“So,” you begin as you get in the shop. “Sergeant Grey said days with lots of events are hectic. Does that make this the bad?” you ask. 

“When are you going to stop asking me that?” Tim asks. “You’ll know when the bad is.”

“Well I thought a dozen stitches was bad, but if that was the good, I’d like a heads up from you before the bad really happens.”

“That part wasn’t the good,” Tim huffs. “The bad is… it’s the rest of it. Everything until you pass your exam and start seeing the ugly that scars the good.”

You purse your lips and nod to yourself. “You’re in a good mood today. Chipper, almost.”

“It’s not supposed to make you happy, but it’s police work.”

“I think it’s the bad for another reason,” you admit. “Because I can’t talk about anything. Questions, ideas, opinions, even just how I feel, nothing I say or do gets taken seriously now, but the second I mess up, no one will forget it. My bad days can ruin me.”

“It gets better,” Tim assures. He notices your eyes on him when you say ‘how I feel’ but doesn’t push. “But keeping a low profile as a rookie has its pros and cons.”

You nod and look out the passenger window. This is the bad, and you are already in the worst of it; you and Tim are hiding your feelings from each other and trying to keep them from affecting yourselves. The lies that you and Tim think in a vain effort to stay professional and protect your hearts only make it harder to see that the person sitting beside you sees past your uniform. Your only concern is that the ugly will scar you before you escape from the bad and invite Tim into the good beside you. No matter where you are, in the good, the bad, or the ugly of police work, Tim will be beside you. But maybe you need his hand in yours and a promise that there’s more. Because this is bad, but it could get a whole lot worse. 

[chocolate-milk-enthusiast]

[5 𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙨𝙚𝙨]- Rin Itoshi

hey hey hey! so this is my first fic (that's getting posted) but i had a lot of fun writing this and i am pretty proud of this icl, it was hard and abit awkward to write at some points but i hope you enjoy it!^^

Rin x fem!reader word count: 1530 warnings: eating/drinking, kissing, reader is referred as 'girlfriend' and 'goddess' and implied to be a girl, but you can always think of it as gn or male. if i missed anything else please lmk!

Sight.

Rin wasn’t the most grateful person; he often complained about many things, especially on the field when a pass was sloppy or when his or his teammates' dribbling was under par. He wasn’t one to appreciate the scenery around him, whether it was a beautiful sunset on the beach or a rainy day seen from his living room window.

While he wasn’t particularly responsive to his surroundings outside of the field, that didn’t mean he wasn’t observant. Quite the opposite, in fact. He noticed every single detail about you (and his surroundings), even the smallest ones. It could be as simple as a different shade of lipstick or a new pair of earrings, or something more noticeable like a recent haircut or new shoes. He noticed everything.

It was now 5:24, twenty-four minutes past his usual time to start the day. Why was he keeping count, you might ask? Because of you. Twenty-four minutes ago, when he tried waking up, he saw you shifting in your sleep. He took it as a sign that if he moved, you’d wake up, and he couldn’t let that happen. Not when you were overworking your pretty little head so much. So he chose to lay back down, looking at you. He couldn’t help but feel his heart warm at the sight: messy hair, slightly parted lips, eyelashes resting on your cheeks, a tiny amount of drool pooling at the corner of your mouth. To anyone else, you might have looked like a mess, but to him? He found himself in awe.

To him, you were absolutely gorgeous, whether you were dressed up for a night out, in pajamas when he showed up unexpectedly, or simply sleeping in his arms. He found himself grateful for the ability to see. To see you smile brightly after eating your favorite dessert. To see you pout when he teased you for slipping on a puddle.

This is when he truly realized: he had to be grateful for the little things in life (in this situation his ability to see). How else was he supposed to worship you like the goddess you were?

Hearing

Rin was always a listener. In contrast, you talked a lot more, openly expressing what you felt. Being with Rin allowed you to do that more than usual because he never did, or never will, mind sitting there listening to you talk about something so mundane. If it were anyone else, they would have probably left, but he didn’t. He patiently listened to your feathery voice because he truly enjoyed listening to you talk.

It was 3:18 AM. Usually, at this ungodly hour, Rin would be sleeping. But today? There you were, sitting on his couch, talking about something. He couldn’t exactly figure out what; his mind was hazy, your honey-laced voice overwhelming him. What brought you both to this situation? A nightmare, one that Rin had. Nightmares weren’t unusual for him, pretty frequent and normal if you’d ask him. But the one he had today? Saying it scared him was an understatement. To Rin, his brother Sae and you, his childhood best friend and now girlfriend, were the most important people in his life. His relationship with his brother was extremely strained, and he knew their bond might never return to what it was. So when he had a nightmare that you left him for his brother, it terrified him. Even now, an hour after waking up, the thought left a bitter taste in his mouth. But there you were, sitting in front of him, talking about your week because he asked you to. He wanted to distract himself, so what better way than to drown in the comfort of your embrace and your sweet, melodic words? Talking about how you saw a new cat cafe on your way from work might have seemed boring to him at any other time (though he would have still listened just to see you happy). But right now, it made him happy because it meant he got to hear your angelic voice that lulled him back to sleep.

Touch

Rin wasn’t the most affectionate person at first, but with time, he started to crave your touch. A simple brush of your shoulders when you were standing next to him made his heart pound and head spin. Before long, he was practically attached to you whenever he could be, regardless of the time or place. He tried to control himself more in public for the sake of his ‘tough boy’ persona.

He couldn’t explain why your touch brought so much comfort to him, but it did. It made him feel complete, even if just for a moment. He believed he was enough and deserved love. Even if he wasn’t ‘Rin Itoshi: Star striker of Blue Lock,’ he knew you would still be there.

Now, here he is in a new cat cafe, grumpily staring at you as you pet a cat comfortably laying on your lap with one hand while sipping your coffee with the other. Rin couldn’t believe he was jealous of a cat, but he was. He shot daggers at the cat until a sudden touch on his cheek shook him out of his trance. You sweetly asked him if anything was wrong. He shook his head, knowing you didn’t believe him. But what was he supposed to do? Tell you out loud that he wanted so badly to be in that cat’s place? He’d kill to lay on your lap, having you thread your hands through his hair.

It was almost as if you read his mind. You shifted closer, whispering in his ear, promising him that you’d cuddle with him when you got back home. The thought made him all giddy inside. It was laughable, really, but at that moment he didn’t seem to care. When it came to you, he could throw away all his ego just to be held by you.

Taste

Rin wasn’t a confused person. In most spheres of life, he was clear about what he wanted to achieve. But when it came to you, it was as if someone flipped a switch. His usual calm and collected self could become putty in your hands with just a simple kiss. His past self wouldn’t be caught dead behaving like this, but how was he supposed to resist your sweet kisses?

It was almost laughable. You had recently bought a new lip gloss and made the grave mistake of putting it on in front of him. He stared at your pretty lips as you applied a generous coat. Being the oh-so-generous girlfriend you were, you offered some to him. Instead of reaching for the tube, what did he do? He grabbed your face, cupping your cheeks and placing his lips on yours, transferring the gloss from your lips to his. He could taste the vanilla, and he craved more, the sweet taste overwhelming his senses. He pulled away to let you breathe, muttering about how sweet it tasted, before pulling you back in for another kiss.

He knew that if he really liked the taste and feel of the lip gloss so much, he could just directly put it on. But that wasn’t the case at all. It was how you tasted and how your lips felt against his. That pleasant taste and feeling was something he could always get used to.

In those moments, with the flavor of vanilla still lingering, Rin realized that no matter how composed he was elsewhere, with you, he didn’t need to be. He could let go, savor each kiss, and simply enjoy the comfort and joy you brought into his life. And as he held you close, he knew that this was where he belonged—wrapped in your embrace, tasting the sweetness of your love

Smell

Everyone had their peculiar preferences, and for Rin, it was the way you smelled. Whether it was the allure of your new perfume, the lingering aroma of coffee from your dates, or the comforting scent of cinnamon and honey when you baked, each fragrance spoke to him in a language only he understood. It wasn’t just about the physical scent; it was about the sense of comfort and belonging you exuded.

After a grueling week, where every challenge seemed insurmountable, Rin found a small piece of heaven the moment he stepped into your shared home. The comforting aroma of vanilla and sugar greeted him, a welcome respite from the absolute hellish his day was. Despite the clutter of flour-covered countertops and scattered utensils, the sight of you kneeling in front of the oven, tending to cookies, filled him with warmth and inexplicable joy. Before he could fully process the scene, he found himself enveloped in your embrace, melting into the feeling of home.

Amidst the chaos, the lingering scent of citrus enveloped him, a familiar fragrance that grounded him in reality. It was a subtle reminder of the little things he cherished about you, whether intentional or not. As he savored the moment. Rin knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, as long as he had you and your comforting presence, everything would be okay

[rojacatmisa]

Starting over In Madrid

Chapter 6 : Paris est magique

tw : may content explicit sex, +18 This chapter is quite long ! Hope you guys still like to read it as much as I loved writing it, and I had so much fun doing photoshop visuals I did several for this one.

Misa Rodriguez x Reader (Nicky/first person)

Chapter 1 ➤ A harder job than I thought Chapter 2 ➤ Clearly on a bad slope Chapter 3 ➤ Calmly panicking Chapter 4 ➤ Hell Clasico Chapter 5 ➤ Valleys and peaks

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧ 

The rain was pouring down when we landed in Paris, drops splashing hard against the windscreen of the bus, driving at an unbelievably low speed. I was sitting beside Ana at the front row, slowly drowsing, swung by the steady movements of the vehicle. My mind wandered, taking me back with Misa and Hayley waving happily to me again at the start and end of trainings. I was so glad to have them back. My vibrating phone took me out of the memory. I pulled it out of my pocket and broke a smile when I saw Angela had texted me. 

A: Hey Nicky! How are you it’s been years !

N: Hey Angela! Yeah so long sorry I didn’t call. Work has been mad but I’m good and you ?

A: I’m fine! What did I miss ? Can we call ?

N: Sorry I’m on the bus in Paris right now can’t call you. I do have a lot to tell you!

A: Tell meeee Wait I know It’s Misa???

N: Well spot-on lol

A: Tell me everything!!

N: Well we kissed… more than once and that’s it for now.

A: Oh that’s all …?! What are you waiting!! But you’re in Paris with the team ?

N: Yes

A: And you’ll be in the same hotel ?

N: Yep

A: And you’ll have a room for yourself ? 

N: Yes……..

A: This is looking good or bad it depends

N: Stop it Angela! Right now Misa is focusing on her match and won’t let anything happened. 

A: How many nights are you staying ?

N: 3 but only one after the game

A: Leaves 1 night still…

N: Girl!!! you’re not supposed to encouraged me !! The close still exists…….

A: Right yeah fuck the close! She’s a friend with benefits no big deal ! Just keep it secret... anyway you and I both know it's bound to happen

N: Pfff I can’t bye Angela

A: I’ll call you when you’ll be back in Madrid ! Can’t wait to know the all Paris story, especially the end !

I rolled my eyes and put my phone back in my pocket, a part of my body itching now my brain was imagining the things that could occurred in two days. I shook the thought, peering at the blurry shapes of the fancy buildings of Paris through the heavy rain.

***

We arrived at the hotel at the end of the afternoon, everybody back on the bus at once for a late practice session. Misa didn’t break her self-promise to work hard and we didn’t interacted much during the first hours in the French capital. We quickly ate and went to bed after training. Everybody was very concentrate. 

Next day, the players trained all morning in the stadium of the Parc des Princes where the match would take place. However, the club permitted a free period on the afternoon and Naomie, who was born in Paris, organized an improvised visit of Montmartre with some of us. 

I was the only non-footballer member of the tourist groupe. Hayley had forced Misa to join. She originally wanted to study in her room, watching videos of goalkeepers playing as a last minute homework, but had had to let go under the insistence of her friend for well deserved break. 

Even if most of us had been to Paris before, we were charmed by the tortuous and hilly streets near the Basilica. I was dragging myself behind the sporty women,  getting distanced more and more, as I climbed laboriously the endless stairs to the Sacré Coeur. Misa glanced behind her, saw me, nudge Hayley and the two of them lowered her pace to let me catch up. 

"¿ Qué pasa Nicky ? Tired after the morning training ? It was a hard one I must admit…" She teased as I leveled with them. 

"I didn’t signed for this ! Don’t have your stamina !" I panted. 

"Come on let’s go that way ! We’ll do a detour but maybe that mean less stairs" Hayley indicated a pedestrian curvy path on the left. 

We chatted happily on the way. It was so nice to hang together again. We shortly arrived to the front but below, a huge amount of stairs still separated us from the basilica. I snorted. 

"Come on Nicky !" Hayley pushed me forward but I eyed an empty bench aside the path. 

"I just need a break !" I said heading to sit down. As I passed in front of her, Misa hold me back, grabbing my arm. "We leave you on that bench and we’ll see you at the Sacré Coeur in two hours !" she joked. 

"Carry me then !" I said. I felt free in Paris, far away from the Ciudad Real Madrid, it was making me flirty and I played at being dramatically on the edge of fainting. 

Misa was already grasping my arm to pull me closer, ready to catch me. "Don’t temped me, Princesa !"

"Ok girls ! I’m still here remember ?" Hayley waved at us, amused. Misa and I parted, embarrassed. "We’ll do Nicky a favor and rest a bit." she added already sitting down on the bench. 

We joined her, silent for once, calmly enjoying the beautiful view at the roofs of Paris while tourists and locals flocked toward the Basilica. A big kind of pigeon walked to us, eager to find some food at our feet. 

"Esta paloma ha comido demasiado, French pigeon are fat !" the goalkeeper said, curious. 

I peered at the oversized bird. "I don’t think it’s a common pigeon…" 

Hayley put out her brand new camera  "I think it’s cute"  she said fondly and took a photo "It will be our souvenir of Paris". The Australian footballer jumped up and position herself in front of us but scared the bird away. "oh no I wanted a family portrait ! Anyway… say cheese !" she shouted at us. 

I shoved my arm on Misa’s shoulders, she grabbed my waist as we put on our best smiles. "You’re too cute girls" Hayley dropped. I felt my face blushing and I tried to hide it in the crook of Misa's neck. However, the embarrassment was almost pleasant as it felt so good to be allowed that little bit of freedom with Misa. Hayley knew the truth and was keeping it safely to herself.

A little breeze swept some fallen leaves on the path. I was so at peace in the foreign city I rested my head on the goalkeeper’s shoulder, smothered by the warm presence of her hand at my side. Hayley took another shoot. "You can tell me if you want a photo of you two kissing in Paris at this level…" she threw at us. We chuckled and I went back at hiding in Misa’s neck. But Hayley was just teasing and had the delicacy to turned around to photograph the city stretching in front of us, allowing the little break only for ourselves. 

I straitened up and peered at the goalkeeper. Her half-closed eyes were looking at her lap, a bashful grin making her so cute. I glanced around us to see if any of our teammates had followed us. It was clear. "I think I’d like a kiss in Paris" I said, my hand, still on her shoulder, caressed the side of her neck. Misa shyly smiled and raised her head. A worry flashed in her eyes and like me, she checked if we weren’t observed. When she was sure we wouldn’t take any risk, she leaned over and timidly kissed me. Felling she was pulling back, I hold her face, not ready to let her go, having not enough of her lips against mine, and I felt her grin through the kiss. "You can’t devour me in public like you almost did in your office" she muttered. I retreated and flash back at her. Her warm and soft gaze made my stomach flutter. I felt an urge to hold her close but didn’t dare, somehow finding it more intimate than a kiss. Instead I took her hand and got up, pulling her behind me. 

"Let’s go to that damned basilica !" 

***

The teams entered the stadium in two neat row under the cheering crowd, the Ultras Paris tribune loudly chanting "Paris est magique !". Tension and concentration gripped the Real Madrid girls as the traditional greeting took place. Shortly, everyone taking their place in the pitch, ready for the kick-off. Misa’s knees had been warped up entirely since her injury during the previous game but she was jumping and stretching energetically in front of her cage. 

The game started, PSG had the ball, led by Grace Geyoro quickly advancing, passing the ball to Tabitha Chawinga. The forward ran faster and faster, closing the gap between her and the penalty area in less than minute. Ivana, Rocio and Oihane surrounded her and she passed the ball back to Sandy Baltimore who send it in the feet of Marie-Antoinette Katoto. The French players dribbled past Ivana and was block by Olga but managed to keep the ball. She send it to Sakina Karchaoui, and recovered the ball behind Olga’s back, heading straight into the penalty area. 

Misa readied herself to jump, shouting restlessly at her defenders. Katoto crossed the ball, Chawinga waiting, and she controlled it, aimed and shot. The ball rolled between Rocio’s feet at full speed. Misa dived and crashed onto the grass, her outstretched arms missed the ball by centimeters and she saw it entered the cage, almost brushing the right goalpost. The crowd burst in joy as PSG scored at the 6th minute. Real Madrid were having a hard game start. The goalkeeper got up, furious at her defenders and probably more with herself. She kicked the ball back in the game, her brows furrowed, her mouth nervously chewing a gum.

First haft-time past with no further remarkable action, apart from a miss aim kick from Karchaoui at the 40th minute. The second half however was punctuated by the many attacks on both side. Unfortunately, all the attempts of Madrid were stopped by the impassable feet of the French defense. 

Madrid was falling back as fast as they could as Sakina rushed on the left side, knowing how dangerous she could be. She crossed the ball again, aiming for Grace Geyoro. The ball buried itself in the groupe of players lost in confusion. The whistle blew and the gesture of the referee was pretty clear. She mimed a square with her hands, her arm pointing the center of it to finish. The ball had found the arm of Oihane leading to a penalty in favor of the French team. 

At first sight, Misa’s face was unreadable, but I was beginning to know her well enough to decipher her extreme tension. What she dread and wanted the most was happening, a chance to prove herself when all was resting on her again. She settled on the goal line, stretching arms and legs to prepare herself. Katoto would do the shoot. The entire stadium was holding its breath. Katoto waited a few seconds. She jogged to the ball and kicked it to the left. Misa jumped on the good side and kick the ball with her fist, sending it out of the pitch. She leaped back to her feet, screaming in triumph as her teammates hugged and slapped her in congratulation.   

The match resumed. Like before the penalty, both teams worked hard at scoring without succeeding during the entire time. Finally, the whistle blew again to signal the end of the encounter. It meant Madrid had lost again. We were all disappointed by the outcome but less battered than after the Clasico. We all knew we had put an honorable performance regarding our opponent. 

***

On the road back, the team was quiet for everyone was brooding the defeat. It was still early when we arrived at the hotel and groups of teammates formed in front of the building, sharing ideas to change their minds. I overheard Sofie and Kathellen taking about a club houseboat. Haley joined them at planning the evening, grabbing a passing moody Misa that surely wanted nothing more than to bury herself in her bed. 

"Don’t even think about escaping Misa Rodriguez. You’re coming with us, willing or not !"

"Estoy cansada y no quiero bailar ! Leave me, Aussie !" she moaned and struggled to set her arm free. Hayley gestured me to approach. "Nicky’s coming too ! You don’t want to miss a night with the best girls, do you ?"

"Vamos Misa, it’s our last night in Paris !" I insisted and sized her other arm to prevent her from fleeing again. She stopped struggling but began to silently sulk.

"We going to a péniche sur la Seine" announced Kathleen with glittering eyes. Misa sent her a questioning look. "It’s a boat on la Seine, you know, the river of Paris" she mocked her.

"I know the river of Paris, thank you." Misa snapped back but I couldn’t tell if it was true. Anyway, the prospect of it didn’t seem particularly appealing to her.  

"Misa stop being so grumpy, just let go for once !" Like she would have with a child, Hayley took the goalkeeper’s chin between her fingers, and mirror her own putting expression, having Misa finally break a smile. "Thanks Jesus, we have Misa back ! Let’s go change. We meet in one hour max at the hotel reception !" 

After hesitating over and over about what to wear, I had finally put on a knee length dark gray T shirt, a jean jacket and a pair of black derbies from where my Real Madrid socks were sticking out. I didn’t like to look too classy, even in Paris. When I arrived in the lobby forty minutes later, Misa, Hayley and Kathellen were already there, chatting casually together. Hayley was the first to notice me. "Girl you’re looking good ! Come seat with us. We’re waiting for Sofie and God knows she can take forever to get ready". 

I took a place on the sofa besides the midfielder, facing Misa who discreetly looked at me from head to toes and put a thumb up to silently show her approbation of my outfit. My voiceless lips formed the words "you too" in return. The goalkeeper was wearing simple gray pants and a sleeveless top witch nicely brand out her muscular shoulders. 

We waited for Sofie an entire hour and ordered a taxi. The danish girl had barely apologized, quickly gathering us for a selfie as we got out of the car at our destination. The surroundings were charming, large bare lawns stretching in front of the Palace of the Invalides on a side, a sumptuous bridge crossing the Seine on the other. The streetlights and granite paving stones perfected the lovely decor. 

We walked to the bridge, climbed down a few stairs and arrived on the docks where a few barges were mooring. As the cliché says, the banks was indeed giving a very romantic vibe and I suddenly wished Misa and I were alone. The tall brunette was photographing the place, finding it at her taste finally. 

A few minutes later, we entered the barge-club and came to the dance floor on the lower level. The place was bombed-out and suffocating, colorful spots of light splattering on the sea of heads. After getting some drinks, we spotted a less crowded space and formed a small dancing circle. It was good to see the footballers having fun whole-hearted, relieved of any kind of pressure at the moment. Kathellen and Sofie spend many time dancing together, pausing now and then to take selfies and to chat on their phone. Misa was getting loose as she drank more and more Pina Coladas while Hayley kept making fun of her wild dancing. As for me, I was sweating hard and feeling slightly tipsy after two and a half pint of beer. 

The partying pretty footballers were drawing attention. A few girls approached them more than once. Kathellen and Misa had the most pretenders with respectively six and five woman coming to chat or dance with them. Of course, it annoyed me beyond reason for I was forcing myself to stay distant with the goalkeeper. When the sixth girl, moreover not an ugly one, tapped Misa’s shoulder with insurance, I escaped from the crowd to cool down near the wall of the room, not bearing to witness another flirt.  

I took a long sip of my beer, wiped the sweat off my forehead, while peering at the girl chatting Misa with dark eyes.

"C’est toujours étouffant ici ! T’as bien raison de faire une pause si tu veux tenir toute la nuit !" a women just came leaning against the wall besides me. 

I glanced at her, perplexed. She was tall, black, her face bearing many piercings and wearing her hair in long small braids. I actually found her very pretty. "Sorry, I don’t speak French !" I apologized.  

She came closer to avoid shouting over the music "Oh, I couldn’t guess ! You look very Frenchy. I’m Sonia." she pointed at herself. "Nicky" I mirrored her. 

"You dance Nicky ?" she led out an inviting hand and smile to me. I glanced at the place where I had left Misa but didn’t caught sight of her. Felling still annoyed by the goalkeeper power to attract girls like butterflies on a lamp, I nodded, dropped my empty glass, and followed Sonia back into the crowd. 

I could tell the woman was a confirmed dancer at the first contact. Her hands on my waist and scapula guided my body along her moves. She spoke in my ear without breaking our dance  "you’re living in Paris ?". Her smile was really charming and I felt exhausted all of sudden. Why couldn’t I crush on girl like her ? Why couldn’t things be simple and flowing ? Why was I liking one in the handful of people on earth I wasn’t allowed to ?

"No, I live Madrid actually, I’m just here for a couple of days " I answered. She made us turn around in a few quick dancing step and I caught a glimpse of Misa’s face glancing at us from across the the room, scowling, lips pinched. I couldn’t help feeling a bit satisfied jealously had changed side. 

"When are you leaving ?" Sonia asked. 

"Tomorrow" I said sadly as I was really enjoying your trip in Paris. 

The pretty women strengthened her grip, her mouth back to my ear "too bad… we can still spend the night…". I led out a soft chuckle. The prospect was tempting but I couldn’t go with Sonia like that. We weren’t even together, but I felt a jolt as I realized I would feel like cheating on Misa. My heart tightened as the thought of the footballer’s upset features. 

I pulled back from Sonia, my eyes already excusing "I’m sorry Sonia but I can’t. Thanks for the dance though, it was nice. You made me feel I danced well too". Sonia grind, obviously not vexed "De rien ! Good night to you Nicky." and she left, disappearing in the compact mass of people. 

The room had filled even more, blocking the view I had on the goalkeeper and barely allowing me to find my way back to the wall. I leant against the relatively fresher surface and began to text Misa to know where they were. The familiar silhouette of a brunette with broad shoulders extricate herself from the packed dancers. Misa scowl disappeared the moment she saw me and I was so happy to find her I flung myself in her arms, alcohol allowing me to be so reckless.  

Misa raised her eyebrows, surprised by this outrush of affection, especially after having see me dance with another women but shortly her body relaxed and she hold me against her. Not leaving her embrace, I slowly began to moved along the song’s rhythm. The goalie followed me, our hips pressed and moved in sync. Somehow feeling like sheltered by the dense crowned, we danced like we were alone, eyes closed and bodies stuck against each other. 

The music went slower, I turned around and put my back to her. My butt pressed on her hips, she wrapped her arms around me, shoved my hair to one side and planted a kiss on my neck. I shivered, led a blind hand grasp her hair for her to kiss more. Her hands on my stomach pushed my bottom harder against her while her lips worked their way up to my jawline. My face oriented itself toward them. She found the corner of my mouth, I growled in frustration and I turned to her again to fully receive her kiss. The close, the risks, the consequences, were swallowed by those luscious lips pushing me back to the wall, my arms around her neck ensnaring her body to mine as she had me cornered. 

The slow melody faded to a groovy one but we weren’t dancing anymore, lost in our heated kiss against the wall. I was so worked up it was painful. Snogging her wasn’t even barely enough, it was becoming excruciating. I was dying for more, for the all party, for a release that had never came yet. So I quitted her mouth and went to pant in her ear "Let’s go back to the hotel, to my room… por favor!". Hearing her gasp finished to convince me we shouldn’t last here anymore. 

As I began to drag her toward the exist, Misa held me back "We can’t go together on our own, it will look suspicious. We have to get the others to go or wait for them !". She had stay more sensible tonight and I had to admit she was right if we didn’t want Sofie and Kathellen spreading the juicy story of two girls coming back earlier to the all team in the morning. 

We found the three other footballers and I spotted Sofie muttering something to Kathleen while looking at us. I realized we were already suspected. Misa went next to the danish girl who nudge her with her elbow and exchanged a suggestive glance. The goalkeeper shook her head, bitterly adding "I queued to the bathroom and I found Nicky having a good time with a pretty French women". 

Sofie bought her partial lie, hitting my shoulder in collusion. "Why didn’t you go with her ? Enjoy your last hours in Paris baby !". 

"Nah, I’m far too tired ! Honestly I’d like to go, you can’t breath in here!". 

"Oh ! So soon ?" Sofie probed with a look the rest of our groupe. I caught eyes with Hayley and passed her a silent plea to help us. I saw the Australian midfielder glanced at Misa, the goalkeeper imperceptibly nodded, her face reddening with embarrassment. 

"I’m ok to go, I’m too hot too and I don’t want to end up looking like Misa’s lobster face." Hayley jibed while backing us up, having Misa shrinking on herself with shame. 

To avoid any further suspicions, the goalkeeper and I didn’t take the same cab to return to the hotel. I paired up with Hayley, leaving Misa with Sofie and Kathellen. In the taxis, I thanked my friend for having us covered. 

"I got you girls, but be more careful, you two are getting so obvious it’s a miracle nobody else hasn’t figured something out" . The Aussie winked. "And please go to your room, I’m next to Misa’s and I would like to sleep well". 

"God sake, Hayley…" 

*** 

I closed the door of my hotel room, tension of my expecting body reaching new heights. All I had to do was wait for Misa but it was already too much for me to handle. My brain was running wild. What if she couldn’t come ? What if she finally didn’t want to ? I had to busy myself to keep my sanity. 

I took off my jacket, shoes and socks and glanced at the room. The bed had been done, white sheets and pillows neatly smothered and ready for us. I found the room too bright and I turned on the night lights near the bed headboard before turning off the ceiling one. The dim glow shrouded the place with a quiet warm ambiance. 

Going in the bathroom, I looked at myself in the mirror. I looked tired and messy. I  brushed my teeth and my hair, took a bit of conditioner to freshen it. Then, I checked my make up, put back deodorant and a spray of perfume… Once, twice, thrice… all of that to help me regain some confidence in vain. 

I went back in the bedroom, more nervous than ever. The waiting seemed to last forever, having me wonder if she was going to come at all. Maybe she found it was too risky in the hotel we shared with the team and staff…

…a soft knock on the door made my heart lift. 

I rushed at it, opening to a very agitated Misa, the goalkeeper checking several times she wasn’t followed before she stepped inside. 

"Perdon Nicky !"  Misa sighted once she had closed the door. "Sofie wouldn’t let me go. She insisted we chatted and drink more in her room for she wasn’t feeling tired ! I told her I’d to go to bed but she wanted to come in my room and busy herself on her phone while I’d sleep !" 

I giggled "Sofie is one of a kind…"

"Si, she is ! But I got rid of her ! Uf !" she leant back to the door, relieved. 

"Phew ! Here you are at last !" I smiled to her, my nervousness surging again. 

We face each other in the small room, jittery and shy, unable to move, now we were finally at it. Silence settle between as we watched each other expectantly. Misa looked down, pressing her lips in an embarrassed smile and nervously massaged her neck. In spite of her charismatic appearance, she could be rather timid in those circumstances. I shook off some of my own diffidence and I walked to her, caught her face in my hands, looking at her tenderly, and my desire for her took over me again. 

I embraced her, kissed her softly, my impatience giving place to a will not to rush as the night still lay ahead. I wanted us to fully experience everything, each kiss and touch, equally moved and aroused by the fact that tonight would always be the first with her. 

Misa sunk in our slow motion, her arms around my neck. Her fingers gently crept in my hair and she pulled my face to deepen our kiss. I ran my hands under her t-shirt, stroking, caressing her skin, before I grabbed and pulled the cloth off the women’s head. Our kiss broken, my gaze wandered over her body and she sized the moment to take off my dress, her fingers folding the fabric up slowly, and finally shoving it off my head as well. We resumed our kissing, skin brushing, hands and fingers running along each other spine, to the point of giving us goosebump. 

Misa advanced, walking me backward to the bed, and taking her shoes off on the way. Our already fast breathing quickened. My heels hit the bed framed, I gasped, turned over at the last moment, having Misa loosing balance and falling onto the mattress. She smiled in surprise and settled herself in the middle of it, her half bare body an irresistible invitation to join her as soon as possible. 

I went over her, instantly back at full-mouthed kissing, a needy fire surged and spread as she caressed my bare skin. Misa straightened up and I wrapped my legs around her hips. Her powerful hands secured me against her while she looked up to me, silently asking for us to resume our kissing. I leaned toward her mouth and softy bit her lower lips, hearing the woman rasping breath in return. I released her, she send her tongue between my lips, reaching for mine, as her fingers found my bra and worked at unhooking it. I imitated her and we both sent our underwear to the floor. Quickly, we pressed our chest against each other, back at stroking our now entire naked upper bodies, the feel of Misa’a soft and bare breast on me stirring waves of heat in my stomach. 

I couldn’t bear to take our time anymore, I put my weight against the goalie to bring her to lie down again. Misa grinned and resisted. I unwrapped my legs, straddling her tights and unceremoniously pushed her back onto the mattress. Her eyes fed on the view of my almost naked figure. I, myself, could barely stand the sight of her lying body, topless, with her arms and long hair spread out on the pillow, her shaped abs and tanned smooth skin showing in the half-light. She looked up with hooded eyes, mouth half opened, surrendering to me taking the lead and allowing me to simply contemplate her for a moment.  

I came to lay a little aside over the goalkeeper, Misa’s arms enclosed me, pushing our breasts to gently squash, sending us both gasping at the sensation. A hand cupped the nap my neck, making my mouth fall back on her lips as I felt her rise her tight between my legs. I led out a wail, fingers gripping the pillow as she began to apply a light pressure there. Slowly I grinded on her, sending rush of pleasure in my body at each slide on her leg. But shorty, the fabric of her jeans bothered me. I broke the contact and I heaved my upper body onto one arm, leading down my other hand to unbutton her pant. 

I reset my position above the goalkeeper, began with a light kiss on her mouth and moved down to her neck. Misa’s hands ran down my back to my bottom as I nipped and licked my way to her breast, her long moans filling the room as I started to kiss her there. One of her hand found mine, the other resting on her own hair, her furrowed brows was giving away her longing. I paused, inhaling the smell of her skin, before I continued my road down. 

I stopped when I reached her jeans, witch I grasped firmly to took it off. Misa chest was rising up and down deeply, looking avidly at me as she had very well guessed were I was planning to go next. I took the time to dispose of my panties, more turned on to see her head jerked back on the pillow as she regained some of her breath. Fuck she was so hot ! Her perfect awaiting body menaced to finish me only at the sight. I tried to cool myself down, pushing back my own arousal as I swiftly pulled off the brunette’s own panties, having both of us bare and trembling with want. 

Slowly, I lowered my head between the goalkeeper’s spread legs, taking a glance at her blushed face, her brown eyes and half-opened quivering lips almost begging. My tongue ran through her and Misa's head fell back again, closing her eyes, as a hight pitch whimper escaped her mouth. Her sweet voice filled the room and covered my own whining. Her hands desperately clung at my hair to have me go on and on, her sounds louder with the increasing rhythm. 

At a moment, she set her arms upward, and messed with her hair, witch fell over her face beautifully. The vision of the brunette lost in pleasure almost had me go over the edge again. One of her hands hided her face, the other gripping the bed sheets as my fingers found their way inside. She was so loud now I was sure we had awakened all the occupants of the floor. I lifted my head to check is she was close, barely able to hold on myself, but Misa, wanting more, pressed my face between her legs again. Fuck ! I was so close, my own cries muffled by my business on her core, when her legs went rigid and pressed on each side of my head. The goalkeeper’s body shuddered, accompanied by deep whiny sights, as she sunk into the bliss. 

I exhaled and rested aigainst her leg a moment, regaining my breath. After the short break, I went next to Misa, facing the goalkeeper laying on her back, her face lost and beautiful. She turned on her side, sent a weak arm over my waist for me to took her in and she nested on my collar bone, peaceful and exhausted. I watched her yearningly, I kissed her forehead and a discreet smile stretched her mouth. 

A couple of minute had passed, with us staying cuddling, when Misa lifted her head an put a soft kiss on my lips. She pulled my face to give me a more heated one, and another. Then she grabbed my leg, heaved it onto her hip and my breathing quickened again at once. Her hand grasped my neck, she sent it traveling to my breast, caressing and pinching my nipples a moment, turning me into a moaning mess, before she led it down, and downer. 

She touched me at last, gasped and smiled at finding me all drenched and I hugged her tight, feverish wimpers leaving my mouth as her fingers easily sled between my legs. I had been already so close I knew I wouldn’t be able to hold much more. Misa’s fingers sunk inside, I whined so loudly I’d have been ashamed, excepted I didn’t gave a fuck. Warmth grew, choking and pleasant each time she went in and out, filling me more and more when I was already so full. 

My half-closed eyes wandered on Misa, and it was the sight of her far too pretty blushed face focussing hard on making love to me that made me came. The deep waves of pure pleasure radiate through my entire body, my arms tightening around her neck, eyes shut, entirely surrendering to the overwhelming feel. 

As bliss took me in, both of us went limp against each other. Exhausted by her match earlier, the footballer as given her last strength to it. I flipped onto the other side, still recovering, while she managed to turn off the light and come to lie close. She pulled the cover onto us both, wrapped me with her arm, I sized her hand falling over, hearing her letting out an approving noise in response. Her slowing and deepening breathing told me she had felt asleep at once, against me, in Paris, the magic French capital.

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

[gatheredfates]

Poses. Hello! 💫

I'm doing something both extremely regular and very on point for me, but also new in the grand scheme of things. Normally this single-word drive would be done as a flash prompt and be for fics only. However, with Dawntrail coming up and me taking a break from my longer asks until well after the expansion's launch, I wanted to extend the life of my single word drive and allow people to engage in creative mediums beyond writing; aka, gpose, art, meta analysis — whatever makes you happy and engaged creatively with Final Fantasy XIV!

To that end, please consider this a single-word (anything) drive!

...Okay, but what is a single-word (anything) drive?

By liking/reblogging this post, you consent for me to go into your askbox to send a one-word prompt generated from this website, picked from a selection of five, as a prompt for you do something creative with your oc. I will then queue any and all completed works to my character question tag, which can be found here.

There is no word limit or time limit, no barrier for skill, and you are welcome to ask for another prompt if the original one doesn't vibe. This is all about giving you the opportunity to explore a concept or part of your character you might not have considered, or expand upon your artistic/technical ability.

As this is a longer drive than my flash ones, I will be advertising it accordingly, and will send multiple prompts for those who'd like them. If you have finished an ask and would like another, please reply to this post with an emoji of a sea creature. 🐋 You can do this as many times as you want until the end of the drive; it counts as an extra like/reblog!

Sea, when does the drive end? I'm glad you asked! It'll end when (Count)Down To Dawntrail starts or when I manually call it — whichever comes first. It'll be announced on this post, but feel free to join my community project discord over at SEAFLOOR where you'll see (ha) me announce it in real time.

That's all for now! I'll either update or reblog this post with more information as needed, so please check the notes of this post for any updates.

[heyidkyay]

And I'm petrified of being alone, now |

Part Twenty-Five (The End)

Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.

What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way?

Authors note: The ending! The final chapter of Matty and Mouse's story, my heart is actually breaking. Honestly loved writing these two, as well as baby Teds, and I hope you lot loved them too because all the love this series has gotten means so much, it feels surreal. Hopefully I can write a few blurbs of them or something in the future but this is it for now. So thank you for all the support!

Warnings: EMOTIONS, Matty and Mouse way of thinking, little bit of angst, referencing to past hurts (such as not making it to a certain age), smut, unprotected sex, self-conscious characters?

> Last update: look back here if you'd like!

Masterlist

Matty wouldn’t have been able to say what the time must have been if anyone had dared ask. He’d been propped up against the headboard, still in his t-shirt and jeans, his hand never having fallen from the top of her head even after she’d finally worn herself out and drifted to sleep.

His stomach churned pitifully at the reminder, at how hard she had cried. Gasping and sobbing into that fucking pillow she still held onto, all whilst clinging to the skin of his wrist with an unforeseen strength. As though she’d been pleading in her grip of him, asking him not to go just yet.

That hold had diminished a tad during the night, she’d always been a fitful sleeper– had kneed him one too many times between the legs for him to not know that fact– but this time around… She’d been almost deathly still, aside from the frowning expressions that clouded her face whilst she’d dreamt.

He continued to sit there though, watching on as the moon sunk so that the sun could slowly climb its way into the irradiating sky, giving way to that first hint of morning.

He hadn’t slept a wink, not really. Nodded off for a second or two once or twice before he’d found himself jerking awake again. Couldn’t seem to stay down for much longer than that.

And why would he? When he’d all but destroyed the woman laying beside him. This proud, strong and resilient woman that he’d been so idolised by, so enraptured with. The one person in his fucking forsaken life that had appeared so utterly invincible.

She was a survivor. A mother. A friend. 

And she was kind. Funny. Resilient.

Then she’d gone and met him, hadn’t she?

And he’d ruined her like he did everything else.

Practically broken her. 

Torn the last pieces of her further apart.

The thought alone made him feel sick to his stomach. Aching with this unbound need to grovel and cry at her very feet, to make her see enough sense so that she could understand just how much she didn’t need someone like him. That she was strong enough to do it all alone. That she didn’t need to cling to him as she had, like rust to a buoy long lost at sea.

Guilt.

That was what that sticky feeling growing in his gut was. That overwhelming malady that was eating him up from the inside out, making him feel so utterly sick.

He had come over to see her. So that they might be able to talk things out. He’d come to apologise. To make things right between them. But instead, what had he done?

Pushed.

He’d pushed and fucking pushed, forcing her hand enough so that she had cracked and he’d been able to slip past those high guarded walls of hers.

And now here they were.

He couldn’t bring himself to regret it though– not all of it at least. 

To have held her again… It had calmed some sick twisted part of him. 

To have just seen her and heard her voice, no matter how pained and angry it had been. It was like the world around him had softened for a split second. Become all grainy.

Matty glanced back over to her sleeping form, to the way she had bundled the duvet high up over her head so that the tip of her nose could bury itself in the slight curve it made, her chin tucked away. 

His hand was still lost somewhere in her hair, thumb cascading out over her temple every now and then, but he didn’t dare pull away. Not until he had no other choice in the matter. 

So he carried on, staying there and lying awake. Thinking over the night before. Thinking back to her devastated expression, to the wary look her eyes had held. To the way she hadn’t spoken a word. To how she had simply forced her cries into silent sobs.

Suddenly, he was stuck on the very realisation that she hadn’t been reacting to it all, to everything she’d been feeling, to what had happened, but rather retreating. Hiding away whilst, somehow, still allowing him to be near. To stay. To watch over her.

A soft sniff had him blinking, regaining composure quick enough so that he could catch the scene play out before him. 

…

I was embarrassed by the previous night's events. By the fact that I had been so determined to keep Matty at arms length and then failed entirely. That he had seen me so weak and well– broken.

But it had all come to a head, I supposed.

I’d been keeping up appearances ever since everything had fallen out, putting on a brave face and a smile for anyone and everyone who could see. It was only ironic, I guessed, for Matty to have been the one to shatter that image completely. 

Still, I swallowed at the sight of him still sitting there beside me the next morning, seeming as though he hadn’t moved an inch throughout the whole night, and shoved all that shame back down. 

“Thought you’d be gone by now.” I heard myself say as I flipped over onto my back so that I could stare up at the ceiling and at the sun drawn lines that stretched out across it.

I listened to his quiet laugh, to the way he shuffled slightly on the mattress, though I didn’t dare look back at him. It was too early and I already felt as though he’d seen enough of me. “Was just hoping for a chance at one of your brews, is all.”

Something in me shifted at his easy words. At the fact that he’d chosen to try and make me smile, instead of calling me out on all my messy bullshit.

“And if I’ve got no milk?” I replied, just because this was easier than arguing anymore.

I felt him shift, probably shrugging if I knew him as well as I thought I did. “Shops open soon enough.”

The corner of my mouth twitched, although I continued my staring contest with the blank space sat high above us. 

“Who says I’ll let you back in?”

He did laugh then, a deep rumble of a chuckle that was rough from disuse and a lack of sleep. Matty sniffed, “Just gonna have to try my luck then, I ‘spose.”

It was only in that next second that I realised something, something that had me inhaling sharply as Matty’s fingers dragged their way through my hair to tuck a frizzy strand behind my ear, before then pulling away entirely.

My eyes slipped closed at the sudden loss and my hands curled into tight fists beneath the duvet at the very thought of him having stayed that way throughout the night. Of having held me in the only way he’d been able to, as though he believed it might have kept some small part of me together. Only pulling away now that he could see that I wasn’t going to crack beneath the weight of everything I still held.

The bed shifted and the sound of his feet hit the floor.

From the corner of my eye, I watched him as he stood.

Matty moved throughout my bedroom with an ease I didn’t even own, picking up the hoodie he’d thrown over my desk chair all those days ago, the same one I hadn’t allowed myself to touch, let alone wear. 

I almost told him not to take it, but withheld. Only just managing to bite down on my tongue as I watched him shrug it on. It was his afterall.

“Gonna nick your keys,” He told me whilst he shook the hood out around his neck and dragged it up over his tousled curls, “Only be about ten minutes. You can shower or whatever, not worry about letting me back in.”

I could only nod in return and he smiled, pausing in the doorway to look back at me for a second or two before he nodded, almost fretfully, and turned away.

I waited, lying there still enough that I was surprised I didn’t go stiff from how tightly I was wound, until I heard the familiar rattle of keys and then the squeaking hinges of the front door. It closed behind him so quietly that had I not been holding my breath I might not have even heard it. 

I was rubbing at my face not a minute later, hauling back tears leftover from last night's show, before I heaved an anguished scream that was more air than actual sound from my lungs.

Forcing myself to calm– and not dissolve into fucking hysterics– I willed myself up, noting that I was still naked as I kicked the covers away. Another thing I’d gone and bared for him, I supposed. As though it wasn’t enough that I had already cried myself to sleep with him just sitting a hand’s stretch away, but that we’d actually gone and slept together. After everything.

My head was warring with my heart as I dragged myself up out of the dirtied sheets, throwing on an old tee so that I could shove them into the washer before he got back. I forced myself into the shower quickly after, letting the hot water roll off my skin.

I must’ve been stood there for a long while, drowning under the heavy spray, because it was the sound of the door that broke me from the faraway place I’d found myself in whilst staring at the tiled walls.

Blinking, I wiped the water from out of my eyes and forced myself to wash, lathering up my hair and going through the motions, before I finally stepped out. 

I didn’t dare peer into the mirror, not all too desperate to see the state I’d worked myself into on my way out. Choosing to head back into the bedroom instead, padding over towards the dresser to pull out some clean clothes and only noticing the fresh sheets that had been pulled onto the bed when I’d finally dressed.

The towel I’d been holding to lightly dry my hair slowly dropped to my side at the sight. I opened my mouth to call out and probably ask– But I stopped myself before I could. Ask what? I wondered. Why? Then shook my head at the very idea.

Doing the smart thing by shutting my mouth, I dumped the towel in the hamper and pulled on a pair of socks, taking a deep breath before deciding to venture further out into the flat. 

I found him in the kitchen.

He didn’t peer over his shoulder but he must’ve heard me putter in because he greeted me: “I know I said I’d be quick but I passed by that little bakery on my way back– that hidden gem we liked that one time? Anyway, it just smelt fuckin’ devine.” He accentuated that last bit, making me smile slightly, “And I just couldn’t not, you know? Been a while, but they had those danishes you like in the window. Got a couple to share as well as some other bits.” Matty explained, head still halfway in the bag he’d obviously brought back with him, a pint of milk sat alone on the side, “And a sausage roll for Teds– kid was eating them like he was gonna starve a while ago. So I just thought...”

Matty shrugged, as though that in itself was no big deal, him thinking of my son, and turned around to glance my way with a display case of baked-goods now lining my kitchen counter.

I snorted softly at the sight, jerking my chin out towards the lot of them, “Just thought you’d bring back half the shop?” I teased and was all too pleased when he chuckled around the beginnings of a smirk.

He was quick with his quip, “So I’m guessin’ you don’t want one of these danishes then?” 

I narrowed my eyes at the sheer nerve. “I never said that.”

Matty’s nose scrunched with his next shrug before he moved to snap one up for himself. “Sort of sounded like it, sweetheart.”

I shook my head, biting down on my growing grin as I slid across the kitchen to grab at one too. 

I hummed around the first bite I took and all but moaned at the flavour of it, blinking my eyes back open only to find Matty wearing the most delighted little grin. I rolled my eyes but didn’t grant him the gift of an actual reply, though it didn’t seem to waver him either way.

We seemed to move seamlessly around one another after that; him filling up the kettle whilst I placed two mugs down on the countertop; the clink of a teaspoon being shot into one cup as I moved to grab the tin of tea bags; Matty switching the radio on like it was second nature and me smiling away to myself as I poured the milk.

I chewed on the inside of my cheek once we’d finally settled, he’d chosen to take up room at the table whilst I carefully stored the remaining pastries away for later.

I wanted to talk, to try and hash things out again, because this felt right to me. Him being here. In my dingy little kitchen, small but still so crowded with all sorts of bits and bobs, as well as a plethora of crayon coloured drawings. And he just, well, Matty just fit here. Or maybe that was just me hoping. Ignoring the bigger warning signs so that I wouldn’t have to feel so alone again.

Was he lying to me?

Had he relapsed?

Did he cheat?

It didn’t seem like he’d done any of those things. There was no guilt in his gaze and yesterday… I’d never seen him like that. Even whilst stressed or overwhelmed, Matty had never cried. He’d never looked at me like that either, as though he was slowly breaking before my eyes.

He’d said his piece, he’d promised, and then he’d apologised. 

But.

What if I was just making a bigger mug of myself here?

Letting him back in. Giving him my forgiveness. Having him in my bed.

Was I saying that it was okay? Was that the impression I’d be giving? That he could lie and walk all over me and that everything would still be fine.

It left the world feeling a little more tilted than it had been only moments before. It left me questioning everything, once again.

…

“What are we doing, Matty?”

Matty was slow in looking back over at her, fingers tapping aimlessly away on the kitchen table to some song that had been playing on the radio. 

“What do you mean?”

She huffed, a quiet chuckle full of disbelief rippling through the air, “I mean, what are we doing here?” 

“The fuck if I know.” Matty replied, just as soft as that laughter she’d given him, shrugging at her from across the kitchen. Because what was he meant to say to that?

She just shook her head in turn though, completely unaware to the way he was now watching her. Taking her all in. The way the outline of her body glowed whilst bathed in the morning light that shone in through the windows. Of how her slowly drying hair curled at parts in the easy breeze that crept by. And how endeared he was by the way she never failed to tuck her joggers, or pyjama bottoms, or whatever else she’d decided to throw on whilst at home into her socks. It made her who she was, all these mindless little tidbits that he’d gathered over the last year, that he had observed. 

“We can’t just– move on. Carry on like nothing’s happened.” She sounded frustrated. Sad.

“Why not?” It was almost sarcastic, the way he said it, but his voice held a whole lot of truth to it. He wanted this and he wanted her. And he’d be a fucking fool to deny it. 

And what would the world make of the two of them anyway? Cause she’d gone and claimed the very same thing last night, hadn’t she? 

The pair of them, fools.

“‘Cause everything’s a mess.” She answered back, staring at him now, almost defeated. 

Her shoulders were slumped and she wore that sad smile she often favoured when she was at a loss, slowly being eaten away by a horde of thoughts she couldn’t seem to control. 

He watched her fidget with the hem of her sleeve, peering down at it. 

“Because after everything, Matty,” She breathed, voice soft even in the quiet of the kitchen, “I know that I love you and I don’t want to lose what we have left here. I don’t want that ruined.”

Matty’s mouth worked itself into a small smile as his eyes dragged between her own, trailing over the short scar that crossed the bridge of her nose, remembering the night she’d teared up when he’d reached out to caress it. 

“I’d rather be ruined by you than not have you at all, Mouse.”

She blew air from out of her nose in a soundless chuckle, cheeks rounding around an amused grin for the briefest of seconds before her eyes skittered away from him again. “That meant to be all poetic?”

He gave her a curt nod and then just grinned, legs fanned out before him. “In the job description. Musician, remember?”

“Oh, do I.” She quipped back just as sarkily, leaning against the counter as she continued to watch him from under dark lashes. Matty reckoned he’d let her shove him under a microscope if it got her to let him stick around. If only for a while longer.

A silence passed between them. 

“I love you.” Matty murmured, so sure of that fact, “That much I know. But I won’t ask you for anything more than I already have, you make the choice. You can hold the cards. And whatever you decide, I’ll accept.”

Her face hardened a fraction, as though she were steeling herself for an argument or something other. Hiding how underprepared she’d been for his words perhaps. Matty only hoped that she’d heard the truth in them.

“No fight? You’ll just accept it and leave?”

Matty didn’t dare blink but dipped his head in slight acknowledgement. “If that’s what you want.”

The woman before him just continued to stare him down and for once, Matty couldn’t read her face. Had no idea what the hell she might’ve been thinking. Or feeling. Or what plans she was currently devising in that clever head of hers.

“Okay.”

It took all of his sheer effort not to react to that one simple word, even though she had practically just gone and ripped his fucking heart out of his chest. 

Actually, he supposed that was another lie he’d told. She’d done that months ago, on the day they’d met and went and ruined him for good.

I’d rather be ruined by you.

It’s what he’d said.

He couldn’t go back on it now. 

“Okay.” He answered her, voice just barely above a whisper that he wasn’t sure she heard over the squeaking of his chair legs.

And then he was standing in her kitchen for what he supposed would be the last time. He saw her grip the edge of the counter, knuckles whitening, gaze unstraying, but she didn’t say another word. 

They stared at one another for what felt like the longest minute on Earth and Matty could practically feel the ground shifting beneath the soles of his feet as he realised that now everything would really change.

His breath caught, the thought hitting him like a shit ton of bricks and he knew then that he had to leave before he broke down and took it all back. Before he was a fucking mess of a man on her kitchen floor. 

He turned on his heel and made for the door.

“Where’re you going?”

Matty froze, entirely rooted to the floor.

He continued to stare resolutely ahead, scared to move in case she had changed her mind. In case she was saying what he thought she was.

“Your tea’s gonna go cold… and I thought you could pick Teds up with me later.” She was going for nonchalant, aiming and almost hitting, but she missed the mark by just a hair. “He was with Ads yesterday, you know, and she dropped him off at nursery this morning for me. Just figured.”

Matty pivoted on his heel, slow going and hardly daring to steal a breath as he did, before he was looking straight at her. At the way her teeth had sunk into her lower lip, the careful sheen her eyes had taken on, and then the singular strand of hair which had fallen from behind her ear. He was across the room and on her in a second. 

Firm hands held her face, thumbs guarding either cheek as he bored everything he couldn’t seem to say into the next look he gave to her. Wanting her to see it all. To know, or simply understand.

“You’re gonna kill me.”

She laughed.

“Wanna bet…” Her words trailed off into a heavy breath and Matty could feel the strength of his grin as he leaned in close, nose bumping against hers, his eyes flickering over the entirety of her face, attempting to take her in all at once.

There was buzzing under his skin, he could feel it in the tips of his fingers, all the way down to his toes, and heard the way it hummed throughout his chest. 

It was then that he realised he couldn’t see an end without her in it.

He wanted everything with this woman. 

Everything.

And that should’ve been the most terrifying thought.

Because once he had believed he would never see the end of sixteen, puking into the bushes outside his bedroom window and not having the strength to make it that extra mile. To let mum know that he was alright.

Then it had been nineteen, that first real stint in hospital. He’d been scared to shit and alone, the darkness hiding all the groans and upset of the other patients with real issues.

But nineteen had come and gone, so then he figured twenty-one. Maybe twenty-two? Definitely twenty-five… Had to be.

Twenty-eight had been both the end and the beginning for him. 

But even without everything that had been holding him back after that, the drugs, the people, the money. After he’d gotten clean– proper clean– he’d never really thought far enough ahead. 

To a point where he might feel settled or want to start building a place for himself in the world. A real place, one amongst family and friends, not just amongst admiration and music– as much as it had helped shape him.

He’d never once pictured this. A person. 

Girlfriends? Yeah. Flings and one night stands? Sure. But a person that would be his. Completely. That he could share half of himself with?

No, he couldn’t say that he’d ever seen that coming, that something like this would have one day been in the cards for him.

And Matty wanted so badly to sink his claws in and cling on for as long as he possibly could, for as long as she’d be willing, and then even more so. Until somebody else came along and inevitably unhooked him. But he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t dare. Because this was too perfect to go and destroy like that. 

He’d always claimed to be a selfish man, but in this regard, all the love he had worth giving would be spent on her. On the days they’d spend together. On meals and dates. On flowers and apologies for when he eventually messed up again, because he knew himself too well to deny that fact. He’d spend it on giving her security, on rebuilding her trust. He’d spend it on her son. On the little boy he’d become so besotted by.

And if it ruined him, if it killed him? He reckoned he’d be okay with that.

He’d be content. Finally having something to be proud of.

“What are you waiting for?”

Matty eyes tracked the length of her face, fingers tangled in her hair whilst his thumbs pressed into the grooves of her temples. What was he waiting for? 

As soon as he thought it, Matty was pressing against her once more, stealing all the breath from her lungs in his haste to answer her.

It was slow, the kiss; soft in the way his lips captured hers for only a few seconds before he was pulling away again, hands shaking where he still cupped her cheeks.

He wanted to make sure that this was what she wanted, but he could see it in her face, that surety, the warmth. And he wouldn’t question that, maybe in some regards he’d be willing to give her anything, but here and now, with this, with wanting her, he would as selfish as he fucking could be. He’d take all that she would give him.

The next kiss was full and deep– urgent.

Matty’s tongue slid into her mouth, hands falling aimlessly away from her face to whatever part of her he could touch, feeling no ounce of remorse over it seeing as she was on the exact same journey, her fingers winding their way up and over every inch of him. 

She kissed back with just as much force, colliding with him in a way that almost felt tortured, as though trying to make up for all the time they had wasted. Not just over the past few days, but the weeks and months they’d spent dancing around one another, pushing and pulling. Despairing this game of tug of war they had started. 

It ended here.

Matty continued to lean up into her, pressing her into the counter as she clawed at the hoodie he wore. Matty felt her nails catch on the skin of his back, whilst he wrapped his arms around her hips.

“Baby,” He whispered breathlessly and then moaned when her mouth closed around his bottom lip, teeth grazing against the flesh before they then bit down. She rocked into him and Matty swore his eyes rolled into the back of his head. 

He reached up a hand to cup the back of her neck so that he could mouth his way across her jaw and down her collar, favouring the skin just beneath her ear. “Need you.”

It was both an admission and a plea.

And then she was grabbing at his face too, forcing his mouth back up to meet hers, breath sweeping over the cut of his jaw. She tangled her fingers in his curls and Matty had the barest second to register that he was actually staying. That she was letting him back in.

His body jolted forward on impulse, arms snaking their way around her waist to splay out over her lower back, pulling her that much closer. Her hold tightened too, hand moving down his neck, thumb pressing lightly against the pulse point there. 

Matty stepped nearer and she welcomed him in, legs parting to let him step between them, kiss turning hungrier as she arched her back up and away from the countertop. He wanted all of her.

She let go of his hair to press in harder, pulling back only so that she could lick his mouth back open and drive her tongue inside. She murmured his name against his lips, once, twice. And then Matty’s hand was between the blades of her shoulders and holding fast. He moved, spinning them outwards, over towards the kitchen door.

She let out a sharp sound that was half gasp and half moan, but all love and desire when they knocked into the arm of the sofa in the living-room and fell back against the soft cushions. 

When they broke apart it was only out of necessity, the need to catch back the breath that had been forced out of them on their tumble down. They shared an airy chuckle.

Then he watched on as she stretched out further up the settee, fingers caught on his wrist so that she could tug him along with her. Their hips aligned as Matty crowded her again, elbow digging into the chair's arm to hold him up above her. He hovered there, their faces and foreheads pressed together, noses lined up side by side. Matty wished to savour every detail of her.

He kissed her again, slower, softer. His lips moved against hers so gently that it was almost reverent, worship-like, and she matched him toe for toe, pouring her whole soul into it, gifting him all the sweetness that she possibly could. 

Matty prayed to whoever might’ve been listening that he could have this.

He supposed someone must’ve heard him because she said, “Stay,” in this careless whisper, in a tone that was more breath than anything else. And his heart stopped.

And then he was nodding. Almost frantically.

He kissed her, the tip of his nose brushing the underneath of hers as he lifted his head to nod one more time. “Long as you’ll let me.”

She whimpered and he groaned, forehead pushing against hers once more as she lifted her hips up to meet his. 

Then they were both lunging for clothes in the same instant, nearly laughing at their clumsy eagerness to get undressed, the sofa being of no help.

Matty pushed back to sit up for a moment, luring her up gently with him so that he could slide her shirt off over her head. She returned the favour, letting him trail a finger over the curve of her shoulder and down her arm once they were done before she was on her back once more. 

“So beautiful.” He felt the need to whisper, even though there was no one else around to hear it. She glanced away.

Matty wouldn’t have that though, a careful hand coming up to coax her eyes back to him, hoping that she would hear the sincerity in his words. She was the best thing he’d ever seen, no matter the time of day. No matter how horrible she felt. He’d never been so enamoured by another person, or so utterly lost in his desperate need to make it known. 

His thumb caught on the corner of her mouth and he smiled. “I meant it.” He assured her and felt her shiver beneath him as his words fanned the skin of her cheek, “Beautiful.”

She swallowed thickly, he saw the bob of her throat before he slid his palms down her sides to unhook her bra, dropping it off to the side so that he could mouth along the length of her torso.

He continued to murmur, tone so full of admiration as he attempted to press the words into her skin, hoping that this way they would somehow sink in.

By the time he reached the hem of her trousers she was writhing beneath him, eyes pleading, so Matty made quick work of ridding them, allowing himself to look her over for just a second. She truly was beautiful. 

“Matty,” The sound of his name forced his eyes back up and he was thrown by the dazzling smile she then wore. She took one of his hands in hers, linking their fingers, “I don't have all day, baby.”

He merely shook his head and laughed, figuring that she must’ve seen the many emotions that played out across his face afterwards because she tightened her hold on his hand and motioned him closer so that she could kiss him again.

He took her there on the settee. Worked her over slow and hard, his gaze only ever wavering when they slipped shut or he buried his face alongside the skin of her neck. His hands wandered whilst hers clung tight, leaving him marked and gasping. She murmured the whole while, legs wrapped around his middle to keep him as close as she possibly could, so that he could drive that bit deeper. Matty had never heard her so vocal, just muttering on and on, only ever stopping to cry out or jolt. But even then her words would either come out all warped or in a sharp shout. It only proved to spur him on though, fingers digging in and bruising the soft sides of her hips and thighs.

He could hardly think, listening to her pleads and commands. Such a demanding little thing. 

The heels of her feet dug into his flesh as her arms wrapped themselves around his shoulders, holding on, sinking her nails into his skin deep enough to have him hissing. He didn’t dare tell her to let up, just attempted to pick up his pace, hand falling away from the crease of her thigh to drag along her folds, needing her to let go before he could.

“Close?”

He was met with a choked gasp: “Yeah.” Followed by a cascade of assent, breath wetting the cut of his jaw as her hands jumped up to curl themselves along his shoulders.

Matt felt himself nod, but was hardly even aware of it, gaze trained on her face, the watering of her eyes, the pink swell of her lips. “So good for me. Don’t deserve you.”

His words just made her strengthen her already too tight hold and then she was writhing beneath him, tear sliding down the side of her face just as her head tilted far back against the cushions and she moaned.

He wasn’t far behind her, but she continued to work her hips to the best of her ability whilst his thrusts became more and more desperate. He only noticed that he was clenching his teeth when her fingers came up to thread through his hair, slackening the muscles there in his face just as his head fell forward, hovering a centimetre or two above the dip in her collar.

Matty felt lips press against the side of his head, soft but there. “I love you.” She said, and he couldn’t even respond, lost in the sensations that overwhelmed him as he jolted forward, every muscle in his legs tensing as his eyes slammed close. 

His breathing was harsh and laboured when he finally managed to pull out, falling into the little space she created for him on the side of the sofa. He draped an arm over her middle, not giving much thought to the damp sheen on their skin or the mess between her thighs. They could have this for a little while longer.

Matty hid a smile, nosing along her shoulder as he better settled into his position before he kissed the sweet skin there. Her back was to him now, him wrapped up around her body, their legs entangled, and he thought back to those few words of hers. 

Back to that night she’d first said them. 

To when she had last said them.

He started to trail a finger over her side, up and then down before he decided to trace each letter one by one. He heard her huff a laugh when she finally caught on, but he pressed on, writing more.

When she patted his hand and shifted, he frowned, wondering if he’d pushed too far, too quickly, even though she’d been the one to say it first. But she just rolled around to face him and grinned at the face he must’ve worn.

“You’re an idiot.”

His brow pinched but he still felt himself smile, “What?”

She laughed all lovelylike and he blinked at the sweetness of it, wondering when he’d gotten so used to hearing such a pretty fucking sound. 

He poked at her side, prodding, “Go on, tell me.”

With a fond roll of her eyes, Matty watched the stretch of her smile  soften before he stilled slightly at her slow touch, the drag of her finger which trailed over his stubbled cheek. “Just such a you thing to do.” She teased him quietly, fingertip reaching up to skim over the bridge of his nose and then his eyelids.

Matty shrugged, narrowing his eyes a tad but unable to truly hide the small smirk he was wearing. He moved his hand back to her hip, tracing another word that had her huffing and shaking her head in sudden exasperation. Then another. And another.

Her eyes were wide when he chanced a glance up at her and she swallowed at the earnest expression he gifted her. “I mean it.” He whispered into the tiny slot of space that rested between their heads.

He watched as her stare tracked along his face, flicking from one eye to the other. “How can you be so sure?”

Matty shrugged the shoulder that wasn’t pressed up against the settee, a small smile dancing on his mouth. “Never been sure of much, but I know this.”

She quirked an eyebrow, “This your way of askin’?”

Chuckling lightly, he shook his head in turn. “Nah, gotta think of something good. Big.” He grinned at the snort she gave, but continued on anyway, fingers simply brushing against her hip now, “Figure we need time to get there again, sort through this mess.”

“Again?”

Matty hummed, thinking back to the bout of songs he’d been working on over the last few months, to the days G had smirked and asked about some of the lyrics he’d written down. “Been playing on my mind.”

There was a small curve to her brow now, an almost frown but not, Matty knew her well enough to know that she was just a little thrown by his answer.

“How long?”

Her whispered ask had him thinking, but he couldn’t really give her an exact time span. He’d hardly even realised it himself. “I don’t know, but for a while.”

She breathed out a quiet little laugh, eyes darting between his own once more, “So one day then?”

Matty hummed happily, face breaking into a slow going grin as one of his hands came up to cup her face, thumb soothing her cheek. “One day, Squeaks,” He murmured to her, “I’m gonna marry the shit out of you.”

Her cheek warmed beneath his touch but she laughed, shaking her head ever so slightly whilst her eyes looked down before shooting right back up again. “You’re gonna regret that.”

Wrinkling his nose a tad and curling his upper lip, Matty just shook his head, “Nah, don’t reckon so.”

“You say that,” She all but sang before she was kicking up a storm in his hold, quickly trying to get away from the hand that had come up to run a rhythm down her side, tickling her into shutting that daft mouth of hers.

“Yeah, I do fuckin’ say.” Matty chuckled, grinning madly as he continued to grab at her, teasing her bare skin with his tormenting touch. It was with that in which Mouse went sailing, rolling away from him in an attempt to escape, and dragging Matty with, him still so caught up in her that the pair of them went tumbling to the living-room floor.

Matty felt as though all the air in his lungs had been kicked from his chest once the world had stopped spinning and finally righted itself. He realised all too quickly what had happened, a heap of hair splayed over his face as he spluttered. 

“Fuck.” He managed to drag out, forcing a huffy laugh from his chest.

He watched on as she struggled for a second, him having cushioned her fall, and she pushed up onto her palms so that she could glare down at him, not entirely unhappy. Matty snorted and raised his arms in defence.

“Don’t blame me.”

If it was at all possible, her eyes cut sharper. “The fuck I won’t! Why’d you start tickling me?”

“Because you never know when to shut up!” Matty laughed, wheezing a little as he did and bending a knee so that he could plant one foot firmly on the floor, his hand rested on his chest.

She just rolled her eyes though as she battled to sit up, spine curving once she had. Matty reached out to trail the length of it, pulse jumping at the shiver he watched run through her.

“How’d we even go from you being such a sap to us on the floor?” Mouse huffed, reaching up to grab at a throw that had been resting on the nearby armchair. Matty watched through a lazy gaze as she bundled it into an oddly shaped ball of sorts before turning back to him. “Fucking all sticky now too.”

He smiled stupidly, folding his hands behind his head, unashamed as he was, to better protect it from the hardwood floors.

She stood with a roll of her eyes, on unsteady legs mind– something Matty felt all too pleased with– and caught sight of his smirk, and before he could even see it coming the bundled blanket was being thrown at his head. He yelped girlishly and floundered to shield himself from it but it still managed to catch the side of his face with just enough force. 

He listened to her hearty laugh as he tossed the thing back at her legs, frowning when it missed and her footsteps began to trail away. “Oi, where do you think you’re goin’?”

“To shower!” She called out from over her shoulder just before she could disappear through the doorway, “Again!”

Matty huffed a small snicker to himself and resorted to simply staring up at the ceiling whilst he waited, but before he could get too comfortable there she was calling out to him again.

“So you coming or what, Healy?”

And fuck if that didn’t have him scrambling up off of the floor to join her. He smiled when she merely laughed at the eager sight of him rounding the hallway and he found himself wondering how the fuck he’d managed this as she turned on the tap and pulled him under the water with her.

He must’ve seemed a little out of it though because she was tilting her head at him when he peered over at her, her hands at his hips. “You good?” 

Matty hummed quietly, dipping his head to kiss her once more because he could. “Yeah, just happy.”

And wasn’t that a thought. Him happy.

Mouse grinned at him, eyes lighting up with it as he stepped on closer. Her hold tightened, “Me too.”

Me too.