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frnchgirls · 2 months ago

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“how could the boy who sees everything, never even notice you” and what if i died??

Summers in the Air Baby Heavens in Your Eyes

Oblivious Danny X Oblivious Reader, no warnings just pining

You watched him from across the field not realising the melancholy sulk you wore on your face. Your lips a sullen pout, a little frown on your brow, tiny wrinkle at the bridge of your nose.

He was photographing Cathy again. You felt like he was always photographing Cathy, or Betty, or Gale. He never took photos of you.

Not that you blamed him, how could you blame him for anything? But especially not this. Not noticing you, when you were just one in so many women who were older, hotter, more life experience and substance. More intelligent things to say. More insight into the Vandals than you could have offered.

No, you couldn't blame him for paying more attention to them than you.

And yet it pained you still, when you had to watch him watching them. The way he'd rest his head to one side in the palm of his hand, his cheek squishing against his fist. The way he'd get that quiet smirk on his lips. The depth of his gaze when he was listening intently, taking every word in.

How could the boy who sees everything, never even notice you.

It broke your little heart.

Especially today.

Because you'd tried so hard to get his attention. You'd worn your prettiest white sundress, spent too long on your hair considering you were to spend the day sat in a field drinking beer with a bunch of rowdy bikers and their wives. You'd spent too long on your make up too, your lashes long and dark, your eyeliner delicately winged. Your lips a faint kissed cherry shade. And yet Danny had all but stared for a moment and turned his head swiftly away. Busied himself with prettier, more interesting women. Because of course he didn't have time for dumb girls like you.

At least that's what you were thinking as you watched him from across the field.

"Hey y/n." Johnny raised two hands in a still wave greeting you as he wandered over to your perch on the edge of a picnic table. "Whatcha doin sittin all alone for over here?" He asked, "y'know the girls are all sitting over there with Danny..." He said nodding behind him to where he already knew you knew the girls were sitting with Danny.

After all he'd been watching you pouting over at them all for the best part of half an hour now and if he was being honest, Johnny was getting tired with the sulk on your face.

"Y'know y'too pretty to waste your time sitting around with that sad little look on you all day..." He carried on. Johnny was a man of few words, tended to stay quiet unless he had something he needed to say, tended not to say things for the sake of it. So you knew he meant it when he teased you, knew he was talking to you now with intentions.

Still that didn't stop you rolling your eyes.

"Oh sure..." You replied with a sarcastic whine. You were trying to be more like Cathy, cause Cathy seemed to hold everyone's attention when she spoke. She was more grown up, more sure of herself. Everything you weren't and no wonder Danny was always pointing his microphone in her direction, listening to her with those deep, pensive eyes. He was always thinking about something and what you wouldn't give to have him share his thoughts with you. Better yet, be the one that so occupied his mind.

"Y'know I'm sure he'd love to be rescued by the prettiest girl at the picnic..." He said then, not even smiling at you, simply knocking your elbow with his to force your sullen glare back to him.

If you hadn't known better you'd have told him to fuck off. But you didn't get to swear at Johnny. Not just because you didn't want to disrespect him when your place in the gang was so flimsy anyway, but because over the time you'd known him, Johnny had become a bit of a father figure to you. Even if it did come across as merciless teasing you knew his remarks were supposed to be taken as friendly advice.

"He's workin..." You shrugged him off, wishing that you were brave enough to take Johnny's advice.

"Nah, he's heard every story Cathys got to tell... I'm sure he'd appreciate some new material to chew on..."

You gasped then, astounded he would dare say something so loaded to you, so heavily burdened with double meanings.

"Johnny!" You yelped, your cheeks burning scarlet as you whacked his arm and shook your head at him. "I can't believe you!"

"Oh come on honey you're smarter than that... You ain't shocked..." Chuckled Johnny, letting out a sigh as he stood up, "but hey, I'm just an old man, can't make you kids listen to me can I..."

And with that he wandered off, back to Benny and the boys, back to the bikes ready to rev an engine and start another deadly race around the homemade dirt track they'd all been busy carving out for themselves all day.

And you, well, you let your cheeks squish against your fists and let out a sigh, your eyes returning with longing to Danny. Danny who for a moment you could have sworn, had been looking at you.

For a moment your heart threatened to jump right out of your throat but when you took a breath and gathered composure you saw that he had returned his attention to Catchy and her cigarette as she waved it around and spun him another yarn about her beloved Benny and the trouble he was always causing her.

You knew you shouldn't have felt so bitter, Cathy had always been so kind to you. A real girls girl who had taken you under her wing, welcomed you into the fold. You just got jealous sometimes when you saw the girls with their men. How they had that one thing you wanted so badly. A pair of arms to wrap around your body when the sunset and the chill began to settle around you. Someone to kiss your neck by the fire, tickle their fingers over your waist until you shrieked and caused a scene and made the others laugh. You wanted to be the woman all the other women rolled their eyes at. Just once.

He's taken too many pictures of you for someone who hasn't yet said two words to you. Too many beautiful pictures, and none of them, can he honestly say, are for the book. Not that he doesn't think the whole world would love to look at your sweet smile, your dewy dark eyes gazing just past the lens, just past him - much to his dismay. Not that he doesn't think people would be as mesmerised by you as he is... No. It's just that if he's being honest, even though you're not his girl, Danny has already decided he doesn't want to share you with anyone.

If only he could work up the courage to speak to you for once then perhaps he could tell you that himself.

He sat in the grass, elbow resting on his knee, chin resting on his closed fist as he held his microphone out to Cathy Cross and forced himself to tune back into another story about Benny. Fuck how he wished he could be more like Benny.

This was a story he was pretty sure she had told him before, about when her and Benny first met. How she'd given him the cold shoulder and he'd persisted. Danny could hardly get his head around that. The confidence, the self-certainty that Benny must have possessed to know that if he just kept trying he'd win a woman like Cathy over. A woman who was almost, almost as beautiful as you.

Benny who had the looks, those pretty boy puppy eyes that women loved, but with all the rugged edges of a man who worked with his hands and knew how to use them. A man with no fear, unscathed by anxiety. A man who knew exactly how to smile at a woman and slip so casually into her heart.

Danny wasn't that kind of guy at all. In fact ask any of the guys he was riding with what they really thought of him and he was sure he knew exactly what they'd say.

"He's cool yeah, for a pinko college boy..."

Yeah, he could dream, he could wear the colours and tear the sleeves off his denims all he wanted but at the end of the day that was what he was. A pinko photography major and that, that was why an absolute dream girl like you would never look twice at him.

"And 5 weeks later... I married him..." Cathy grinned, her voice singsong teasing, her hand on her heart as her eyes lit up with mischief.

Danny smiled, grinned along and tried to think of a question he could ask to keep her talking... To keep giving him an excuse to stay sitting there, pretending to look at her, when in fact he was really watching his periphery for little glimpses of you.

But in the end Cathy got tired of talking. She did as she always did and dusted herself down, gave him a wink and told him to ask some of the other girls what they thought of the boys and their "toys" as she always referred to the bikes.

"You should try asking y/n a thing or two, get a couple of lines to accompany all those pretty pictures you been snappin of her all day.... Yeah, I noticed that..." She grinned, "you boys think I don't notice anythin well, you're all dumb... Especially you honey, you're the worst..." She teased as she walked away with all the confidence of a woman about to wrap her arms around Benny Cross and demand a little attention knowing she'd get exactly that.

Danny watched her in disbelief, hoping his cheeks weren't as red as they felt. Stealing a nervous glance in your direction to try and gauge whether you'd heard Cathy's remark. Her voice carrying in the way it always did.

But you seemed oblivious. Actually you seemed exactly as you had done all day. Completely lost to the world, lost in your own thoughts. Sulking and pensive, real sorry looking. It made Danny want to drop his camera and his recorder and snake an arm around your waist. Ask you what was troubling you so that you might lean your head on his shoulder and let him tend your aching heart.

He wondered which of the bikers had broken your tender heart, tried to glance around them to see if he could see where your melancholy gaze landed. But he couldn't tell.

Every now and then he thought you might have been looking at him. Sometimes when your dark lashed fluttered slowly, your eyes glistening with a sulk, he was sure it was him you were gazing at from across the field. But then someone would pass behind him, one of the guys and he'd decide that Corky or Cal were a far more likely candidate for a girl like you's affections.

"Hey Danny..."

Danny heard Johnny before he saw him. Saw his dirty boots stop just in front of his before he looked up and saw the older man standing there in his deep blue denims, his hands waved in a still greeting. "Y'know I been thinkin you ain't gonna be able to keep riding with us..." He said. His words hanging in the air for a moment, not a hint of amusement.

Danny looked up at him with his head cocked to one side, trying to work out whether he was joking or not. Deciding very suddenly that he might not be. Scrambling to his feet to speak to him.

"What? I mean w...why Johnny?" He asked, trying not to reveal his panic, knowing however that he couldn't hide his racing heart and the sick feeling in his stomach. Not to mention the terror which had shot through him at the thought he might have earnt himself a fight with Johnny Davis. Fists or knives he couldn't take on Johnny and he didn't want to either!

"Well," he sighed with a unnerving smirk, "if you insist upon breakin my little girls heart I just don't see how you can... Ride with us no more... Don't see how that's gonna work?" He said, his smirk only confusing Danny more.

"What?" He asked, his eyes flickering between Johnny's and the space just over his shoulder where only moments before he'd had a perfect view of you sulking at the edge of that picnic table but didn't anymore.

"What's confusin you Danny? You seem confused?" Asked Johnny cocking his head to one side. His pout almost certainly mocking him.

"Uh... Well I uh, I don't know who you're talkin about Johnny..." He said scratching the back of his neck nervously, "I don't have nothin to do with any of the girls... Except when I interview them but I promise you I ain't been foolin around with nobody..."

"Yeah, yeah I know you ain't... That's half the problem..." He replied, turning over his shoulder to scan the crowd for you. "I mean look at her Danny boy, don't you think she's sweet? C'mon kid, I know you college boys ain't stupid..."

But when he turned around to nod Danny in your direction he found that you'd disappeared and he knew with a sinking heart that he'd acted too late. That you'd probably given up once again, gone and found Cal or one of the others to give you a ride back home where you would no doubt be crying your little babydoll eyes out into your pillow for the college boy who was proving to be more stupid than Johnny had imagined.

"Well," said Johnny, "you don't need me to tell you that... You been snapping plenty enough pictures all day..." He said leaving Danny to frown, his brow knitted as he watched the empty picnic bench mournfully.

"Oh well, too late now..." Teased Johnny, "she'll be off with one of the boys... Why don't you grab yourself a beer, drink yourself a bit of fuckin courage..."

And well, in your absence that was all that Danny could do. Rejoin the men who were all gathered around the fire with their girls. Drink a couple beers and try to nurse his pitiful heart as the night and his jealousy grew. Because all those other boys sitting round the fire had someone to hold onto, someone to tease and kiss. Someone to lean against them. Make them feel like a man.

And Danny had fumbled yet another picnic, let you slip between his fingers once again.

If you would like a less tragic part two please let me know x

#ohhh #i could hear their voices in the dialogue #johnny and CATHY 💜#danny truthers i love you forever and always

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frnchgirls · 2 months ago

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Sorry for not writing at all today please don't leave me

#me every day

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frnchgirls · 2 months ago

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You're so freaking talented, I can't wait for your kinktober fics! 🥰

thank you so much :( i am just as excited and will be working on them diligently! please let me know if you would like to be added to the tag list!

#rose answers

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frnchgirls · 2 months ago

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patrick “calls you peach” ZWEIG 💜

#and i live by that #send tweet #challengers #patrick zweig

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frnchgirls · 3 months ago

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warnings: 18+, nsfw, long!!, dubcon, a lot of explicit and implied grossness, poly if you squint, finishing inside, early character death?

you met zombie!patrick during your compound's last looting trip. you and a few other younger, able-bodied members of your settlement went out to a pharmacy in search of medicine, and during the affair, the building was overrun by zombies. every member of the search team was presumably eaten, your best friend tashi and boyfriend art both killed in the frenzy. it devastated you. but you- you were alive; the sole survivor, having made it out with the medicine, no less, all thanks to patrick.

he spared you when he decided to smear your face and clothes with spoiled blood to mask your human scent from the horde, a strategic thought you never would have imagined the undead could even have. you're taken aback when after all is said and done, he seems to revert to a normal zombie state, communicating only with groans and grunts and an incoherent mumble every now and again. you can't lie and say that you're not at least a little afraid. he is a zombie, after all. but he's shown no signs of hostility, or signs of much of anything for that matter. and he did save your life, so why not keep him around?

the two of you are sitting in an abandoned house that's on the route from the pharmacy back to the compound, shoulder to shoulder on the bedroom floor as you crack open a can of fruit cocktail, your dinner for the night. you examine his face as you dig your fork into a syrup-soaked cherry. he's so pale, blue veins like spider webs crawling up from the base of his neck to his hollow cheeks. you can make out the faint remnants of freckles if you squint, and you can't help but wonder what he might have looked like when he was still alive. tan and healthy; handsome, even.

you have to hold your breath as you eat the bits of peach and pear from the aluminum can in your lap. patrick is filthy, and the stench of god knows what emanates off of him, filling the room. his milky, glazed over eyes stay locked on the opposite wall, bruised lips parting ever so slightly when he says, "hun- gry." you immediately swallow the food in your mouth, partly shocked and partly overjoyed at the fact that he was speaking to you; that you could understand him. now that you were thinking about it, it had been a while since he last ate. you couldn't blame him for voicing his needs.

"yeah, pat. i know. we'll find some brains for you as soon as we can. i promise." you reply, chipper tone covering up the fact that you truly have no idea how you'll be able to satiate him without hurting an innocent person. you take another bite of food, thinking of art and tashi, and his head snaps in your direction. "hun- gry." he repeats, practically throwing himself onto you, which in turn knocks the can right out of your hand, spilling the contents all over the carpeted floor. you let out a noise, a mix of a gasp and a groan erupting from the back of your throat all at once.

"that was my last ration, you stupid fuckin'- get off." you complain, using every ounce of your strength to try and shove him off of you, but it's no use. he would overpower you even if he didn't have a supernatural advantage. he paws at your tattered clothes, gripping the fabric with his fingers as he presses his cold lips to your neck. he inhales against the sensitive skin, other hand coming up to tug absentmindedly at a strand of your hair. what on earth is he doing?

"pre- tty." he hums, big nose nudging your pulse point, and your eyes widen as you thrash under his hold. you fail to hear him over the sound of your racing heart. "don't- don't kill me, please. you remember me, right? remember saving me?" you beg, but it's a shot in the dark. he hadn't seemed to understand the words you said before, so why would now be any different? you squeeze your eyes shut as he stands and lifts you to your feet in one fluid motion.

"need... pussy." patrick grumbles, brows furrowed in confusion. the words aren't really his. he knows that when images of you from the past flash in his mind, on your back with your hair splayed over a fluffy pillow. you giggle and blush at something he said- no, not him, someone else who was now a part of him. someone else whose memories were now his own. someone who wanted to fuck you. he wanted to fuck you.

"what?" you squeak, wondering if you heard him correctly. this had to have been some kind of sick dream fueled by your recent lack of sex, because there was no way a zombie wanted to get in your pants. it was unheard of, impossible even. the fuck was wrong with you, having deranged thoughts like this? you would be shunned by the compound if anyone found out what you were about to do. and what about art? you reach around to pinch yourself, but the movement is interrupted when patrick shoves you down onto the bed.

"feel you... now." he continues, jaw clenched as he tugs forcefully at the waistband of your jeans. the seams pop, which allows him to drag the ripped material down your legs, leaving you in nothing but your panties below the waist. "no, no, we can't- this isn't right-" you stammer, squeezing your thighs together and covering yourself with your hands. but patrick pushes them out of the way like it's nothing. his pupils seem to darken when his eyes land on the damp patch at the front of the pink fabric.

"why wet... then?" patrick teases with a fucking smirk, dimples and smile lines on full display. you shudder not only at the sight, but at the feeling of his cold fingers pressing against your clothed heat. there was something so chilling about his words and his mannerisms. they were all too intimate. he didn't feel like a zombie anymore, he felt like a man. "i'm not- it's not-" you lie through your teeth, panicking as you lean down once again to hide the space between your legs from his view.

he unbuttons the front of his jeans, shuffling them down his hairy thighs along with his boxers. you have to physically turn away when his cock springs free from its confines. fuck, it's as thicker than it is long with dark curly hair at the base. blue veins run along the shaft and his tip is as purple as his mouth. you can't do this. as horny and curious as you are, he'll split you apart. "oh- oh my god, patrick- no. no, no, no." you squeal, clamping a hand over your mouth as you clench around nothing.

patrick is unphased, gripping the backs of your thighs and hoisting your legs over his shoulders. "take... it." he groans, pushing past your panties and into your soaked folds. he throws his head back, exposing his pale neck as he bottoms out in you. you let out a guttural moan, the noise muffled by your palm. you could feel every throbbing inch of him, your wetness providing only the slightest amount of lubrication.

your back arches off the bed at the intrusion. it's so strange; the juxtaposition of his freezing hands on your skin and his sweltering cock deep in your cunt. "feel... good?" patrick asks, waiting a moment before pulling out then thrusting in again. you pout, partly because you don't know how to answer, and partly because you can't. it's hard to think about anything else other than the feeling of him dragging along your walls. you resort to an eager nod, cheeks flushing from embarrassment.

he smiles, nodding in acknowledgement before leaning over you to get a better angle. patrick folds you even harder into the mating press, your thighs trapped between both of your stomachs. his eyes cloud over again once he's adjusted, jaw slack as he thrusts in and out and in and out. "hun- gry..." he mewls, saliva pooling in his open mouth when his tip brushes against that spongy spot inside you.

patrick fights with himself, unsure where his appetite for your flesh ends and his newfound appetite for your pussy begins. having you milk his cock like this seems to appease him for now, the other voice in his head tells him so. but still, he can't help but feel a little guilty. he wonders how you'd taste, how it would feel to have your viscera sliding down his esophagus when he eats you. drool spills over his bottom lip like a waterfall, dribbling onto the sheets below you.

a few drops land on your cheek when he moves, and you recoil at the sticky feeling on your skin. you can't help but close your eyes, facing a conflict of your own. if you just think about art, it'll be okay, right? it's not wrong to get fucked by a zombie if you imagine it's your late boyfriend while you do it. god, you hope he would forgive you. if only you knew. "look... at me." patrick sputters, and when you do just that, his pupils are dark again. something about it makes you shiver. you've never seen a zombie who could do that before, and his words fill you with a strange sense of deja vu.

patrick wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, speeding up his thrusts as he presses his forehead against yours. the motion has you teetering on the edge, and your fingers reach out to clutch at his hoodie instinctively. he chuckles and questions, "you... close?" which you answer with another nod and a whimper of "yes." he seems to be in the same boat when he tells you, "me too... wanna be good for you. please- let me be useful and... breed this pussy."

you giggle.

your mouth flies open to let out a gasp, patrick's hand reaching down to rub circles against your clit. you know you've heard those words before; you've heard those words from art. there are myths that zombies can absorb thoughts and memories from brains they consume. what did he do? what the fuck did patrick do?

"oh god- you ate my boyfriend. you ate my fuckin' boyfriend! oh- oh fuck-" you sob, tears pricking your eyes as he draws out your orgasm and rides through his own, grunting monotonously while he shoots ropes of cum inside you, coating your walls with his slick. you squirm at the feeling, patrick's actions only further spurring on your tears. but then he lifts a hand to cup your face. "no, no- don't be stupid. it's me. it's your artie." he coos, wiping a stray tear with his thumb.

you blink away the bleariness in your eyes and look at patrick's face, an all too familiar cheshire grin plastered over it. "art?" you whisper, chest still heaving with emotion, and he nods, moving your hand to cup his cheek like you've always done.

how the hell are you gonna explain this to the compound?

#shower thoughts gone wrong #i hope this wasn't too far :/#inspired by warm bodies (film)#patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig smut #challengers x reader #challengers smut #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson smut

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frnchgirls · 3 months ago

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unfortunately people moved on :( you should get into newer stuff, it's just as fun <3 and in no time josh's new stuff will come out

Respectfully, I think that's bullshit. Why should I move on from something that's currently not in its prime? Movies exist for people to enjoy them long term, not just make some fun and profit over a few months and then completely erase them from their minds.

I'm a fan of the Harry Potter, above all, a series that has been finished but keeps living because people enjoy it, because people wanna be a part of the universe and keep the whole thing going. As of now, I hardly think about it, but once autumn comes, you bet I will be posting about how much I wanna fuck Tom Riddle.

Every March or so, I get a little nostalgic episode where I continue my maladaptive daydreaming - ish fanfiction about The 100, again, a series that ended four years ago. But I enjoy it, deeply and fully, and feel like there are still new things to discover or think about.

And the exact same thing applies to Challengers. It's a movie that came out four months ago and has freaking Zendaya as the main star. It's not gonna disappear and be completely forgotten until Christmas. On twitter, the fandom is very much alive, people keep tweeting, posting edits on tiktok, making fan arts... Just because some people on tumblr feel uninspired or have less time (mind you that school is starting for many people around the world), I won't force myself to stop enjoying something.

I'm not here for the likes (even though I'd love nothing more to be famous because I'm a performer at heart), but I'm here to talk about my hobbies and things I enjoy - and currently, Challengers are on the top of my mind. I'm here to meet people who enjoy that as well so we can keep in touch and share our thoughts and fantasies. And it doesn't matter if it's just one person, my number of followers or the whole ass fandom.

#this #why are people being weird #no need to move on from something you enjoy #it’s back to school season ofc fandoms are falling off #if challengers is dead that means i’m dead :/

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frnchgirls · 3 months ago

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oh, okay!

#mike faist #art donaldson #challengers #going for a quick walk to clear my head #off of a cliff that is #cred to ysuftsaysojo on pinterest

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frnchgirls · 3 months ago

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what the fuck is happening to mee :/ i have two drafts that i just can't seem to finish because i feel like they're too niche or that someone else could write them better, and a countless number of ideas in my notes app that i feel like i should save for later or once again, would only be enjoyed by a select few people!!

#personal #this suckss #but yet i feel like i'm failing people who want to see more of my writing #what do i do :(#when did i start caring?

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frnchgirls · 3 months ago

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I'm not sure if you're still taking Bikeriders prompts but I was thinking of Funny Sonny or Cal being self conscious of their teeth and reader thinking they're crazy handsome no matter what. Gender neutral reader would be awesome. No worries if not interested! Love your writing!!!

Author's Note: As someone who used to be super self conscious of my own teeth, I thought I'd try my hand at writing for Sonny. Hope this is okay, thank you nonny! ☺️

Warnings: insecurities, fluff

To be fair, you made it your mission to get him to form better habits, not just for your benefit but for his own, too. And he appreciated it—he really did. He'd never found someone that genuinely cared about his well-being as much as you clearly did, it was always disgusted sneers here and disgusted sneers there.

But as he kicks back the rest of his beer before crowding into your little bathroom, his boots heavy on the floor as he settles in front of the sink, he wonders if it's enough.

Because even after he scrubs his teeth with the green toothbrush you bought when he started crashing at your place, he still looks every bit the man who started letting himself go all those years past when he began riding. And he still looks rough. His teeth are still on the verge of rotting, he's already lost a few molars from it. He fucking hates it.

And watching as Danny snapped a photograph of you with a perfect, blindingly white grin on his face was almost too much to bear.

You should be with someone like that. Someone who takes care of themselves.

He grumbles, tossing the tube of toothpaste back in the cabinet drawer and shutting it none too quietly.

"Baby?" You call as you come into the bedroom and start getting ready for bed. "What do you think about that ad I showed you earlier? The one for the trailer?"

He stays quiet behind the door for a moment, thinking about the trailer you wanted so you could go on trips with the Vandals and not have to worry about getting a hotel room. So he wouldn't have to sleep on the ground like he was want to do.

"Lotta money." He finally says, leaning his heads on the counter, looking at himself for once.

"Yeah..." He can tell you're climbing into bed from where your voice comes from, can hear the rustle of the blankets. "It'd be worth it, though."

He usually has something to say, some half-assed wisdom or smart remark, but all you're met with is silence—deafening silence that makes you get out of bed so you can open the bathroom door.

"Baby, what's wrong?" You ask, concern coloring your voice. "Are you hurt?"

It wouldn't be the first time Sonny had come home with an injury of some sort, but he shakes his head.

"M'fine." He dismisses. He doesn't deserve you—you with your syrup-sweet affection and all the patience of a saint.

Your hands are guiding him to look at you before he notices, before he can stop you.

"I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong, baby." Your eyes are so earnest and it twists in his gut like a knife.

He tries to hold out, he really does. Even goes as far as chewing the inside of his cheek to try to prevent his own mouth from opening, but he's always been a sucker when it comes to that blatantly obvious love of yours, plus he'd be a damned liar if he said he didn't enjoy the way you dote on him.

"Look at us," he grumbles. "Look at me."

Your brows just barely start to furrow in confusion so he goes on.

"You deserve better. Someone whose teeth in't fallin' out like some crackhead junkie on the corner."

Recognition flashes in your face and you shake your head in admonishment, petting his hair away from his face as you turn him to look in the mirror again, aligning your cheeks to do the same.

Side by side, your eyes glitter as you try to put his mind at ease.

"You know what I love about you, Sonny?"

He grunts, lips twisting in a grimace.

"Everything. You know why?"

There's a traitorous lump in his throat that makes it hard to swallow, but he somehow manages it.

"Because you make me happy." You stroke his other cheek and a soft look envelopes you. "If I wanted someone else, I wouldn't be here. That's all there is to it. But I don't. I want you, baby. You think I care about looks?"

You shake your head. "I think you're the hottest man I've ever seen."

He snorts, hand coming up to your waist as you wrap your arms around his neck.

"The hottest, huh?" He muses.

"Mhm." You beam happily at his change in demeanor. "Gimme a kiss?"

He pecks one right on your lips, butterflies in his stomach settling as you tug him into your bedroom.

"One more?" You ask expectantly and so softly he can feel warmth blooming in his chest.

He doesn't know how you can turn his self-deprecating thoughts around as quick as you can but if he can keep kissin' you like this then those thoughts can respectfully wait another damn day.

#what the fuck :/#this is too sweet #i needed this

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