#( THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR SENDING THIS IN! )

[saradika]

I love seeing you on my tumblr 💕💕💕💕

And if you want ✍️ a little ficlet with a character you want! Maybe something with reader accidentally discovering a biting kink?

Or if you prefer to do the 🎶 !! 🥰🥰

Happy sleepover ❤️‍🔥

Emme! 💖 I was so happy to see this - I love seeing you on my dash, too. Your artwork is always just so incredible, I am a huge fan. (And I also love seeing the fics you reblog! So many Arthur ones I can’t wait to read). Thank you so much!!

I actually did 2 ficlets: Rex discovering his kink with you, and then Cody helping you discovering yours. 💙🧡 Hope you like them!

captain rex x f!reader | tags: biting kink, piv

“I’m sorry,” You’re murmuring - lips pressing again and again against the spot where his neck meets shoulder.

The thrust of his hips had surprised you, the kiss turning sharp when your teeth had accidentally pinched down hard against his skin. Guilt flooding, as Rex had groaned - tightening his grip on your waist.

“No,” He’s breathing out, as he moves without thought - grinding himself deep, “I don’t mind, I-”

And you think you understand - the low, rough moan drowning out the rest of his words, as your teeth sink into his skin again.

commander cody x f!reader | tags: biting kink, piv

A brief flash of pain cuts through the throb of pleasure with Cody’s next thrust - the ache of his teeth as they dent the skin of your shoulder a bright contrast to the sweet pressure of his fingers between your thighs.

Your groan surprises you - a high whine pushed out from your lungs as you clench around him, your fingers twisting in the sheets of your bed as you rock back to meet him.

“Oh fuck, mesh’la. You like that? Getting marked up by me?” His teeth scrape again, waiting until your little nod before he’s nipping against at your skin, sucking a bruise against your neck.

A low hum, a grin, then - as he admires his work, “Mm. Then I’ll make damn sure these last until I see you again.”

[saradika’s sleepover celebration - open]

[deprivedmusicaljunkie]

hii what's your favorite song off wasteland? it's my favorite album too :) mine is either as it was or why would you be loved

hey, thanks for popping in! it’s a hard pick, but i think mine would be almost (sweet music) or be. almost has a really full sound that i think perfectly encapsulates the wb! vibe, and the clapping rhythm + occasional screaming + jazz references get me so hyped up. be was one of the first hozier songs that i really got attached to, and the second verse is a masterpiece.

your picks are so great! i like the simplicity of as it was (make your good love known to me, or just tell me about your day. yearning at its finest). i’ve come to think of it as a more mature version of it will come back. and wwybl is a BANGER as well. BASS BOOSTED.

[ratinayellowbandana]

this is probably a little too on the nose, but as soon as I saw "color prompt" I thought purple- bc.. well. you know. Though actually reading the prompts under purple all of those have imodna vibes so I think that means it was meant to be

if you want a specfic one, i like 1. "You know you're my best friend, right?", but any of the ones under purple would be cool!!! hope you have fun writing!!!!

woo! this one was very fun and tbh i needed the fluff.

length: ~500 words

~~~

Imogen is drunk. 

It’s only natural, Laudna supposes, after the shitshow of a week they’ve had that they might have a little fun. Imogen has her circlet now, after all, and it has been a gift. The defensiveness that has been ever-present across all the years they’ve known each other has faded from Imogen’s brow. She is at ease here, surrounded by their friends, talking and laughing and swapping jabs across the table. 

F.G.C. is off searching for another round while Fearne leans casually in the corner of the booth, reclining against the backrest with Orym pressed into her furry side. Mister is perched on her shoulder, nuzzled into her neck. His tail flicks her cheek, and she swats at him, tutting, with a loving laugh. 

A curious conversation occupies Orym’s attention, but he smiles and nods at Chetney, who is demonstrating a new-old carving technique he picked up from the Ashari. A toy sword rests in his lap, and he chisels away with impossible speed. Wood shavings cling to his hair and clothing, but he manages to avoid the table, accumulating an impressive pile of dust under his seat instead. Laudna makes a note to tidy it before they move upstairs for the night. 

Imogen is warm against her right side, engrossed in an animated argument with Ashton, who humors her with a smirk and raised eyebrows, nodding along to the point Imogen is making the way you only can when addressing someone who is well beyond your level of inebriation. 

Does Ashton get drunk? Laudna thinks suddenly. If his outsides are made of stone–or titan? Is that a thing one can be made of?–does it affect his insides, too? Can insides be made of stone? Would they absorb alcohol? He eats, certainly, but…

She has a vague notion of asking, but they might not even know, she realizes wondrously. How many people have seen their own insides? Her mind conjures gleeful images of splitting him open to see, revealing stoney intestines and a rock-shelled heart. 

With consent, of course. 

She’s only curious. He might be curious, too, after all, and she doesn’t want to hurt him. 

Imogen squeezes her thigh and draws Laudna back to the present. “Y’alright?” She asks, eyelids drooping ever so slightly.  

“Oh, yes,” Laudna affirms brightly, blinking owlishly, “I was only thinking of Ashton’s insides.”  

They raise an eyebrow. “Gods, you’re weird,” he guffaws. 

“Thank you,” Laudna replies, lips splitting into a broad grin. A conjured drop of ichor falls from the corner of her lip, trailing down her chin for dramatic effect. 

“Damn, I’m glad we’re friends.” He wags a finger and takes a swig from his tankard, shaking his head. 

Imogen leans further into her, and Laudna has to stabilize herself against the edge of the booth. 

Imogen hums, looks up at Laudna, “Y’know you’re my best friend, right?” 

“Alright, asshole, I’m not trying to steal your girl,” Ashton scoffs, rolling his eyes. 

Laudna ignores him. “I should certainly hope so,” she murmurs, pressing a kiss to Imogen’s forehead. Imogen beams. 

“Gross.” 

“Shut it, Ashton.”  

[bearlydruid]

❤️ + a URL ( fiendishfinesse )

Send ❤️ + a URL and I’ll write something nice about them/their blog! - for @fiendishfinesse

Honestly, what a delight. This is a beautifully written Raphael - I adore not only writing with them (Which I haven't done much of!) BUT I also love reading everything from their headcanons and takes on things to their threads with other characters and Raphael.

Honestly, they have a beautiful take on Raphael and a gorgeous style of writing - I am very happy to have them on my dash!!

[allylikethecat]

6, 24, 30

YAY oh my gosh thank you so much for indulging me in the AO3 Wrapped [Reader Edition] ask game situation! I LOVE any and all ask game situations and this one is extra fun because I get to chat about the fun fics I've read this year by so many talented people! If anyone else wants to send any other asks the list can be found here.

6. What's your absolute favorite works you read this year?

Aw man asking the hard questions! There have been so many fics I've enjoyed this year! I reread Poses by @vinylandcoffeecollection multiple times this year because it is my all time favorite / comfort fic! I've also really enjoyed everything @lookedlikethebins, @sundrownsthehouse and @0ceanxey3s have written!

24. Where do you read the most?

On my phone curled up on my couch with a fluffy blanket that my friend got me for Christmas two years ago that has horses that look like Pop on it 😂

30. Biggest surprise for you as a reader this year?

Hmmmm another hard one! I'm not sure if this means biggest surprise in a fic I've read or biggest surprise in general and I absolutely over think everything so I'm answering it as a more general thing. I've been really surprised but how small this fandom can feel sometimes. Everyone that is writing for the fandom is so incredibly talented and for the most part so incredibly kind - I've just been surprised there aren't more of us!

Thank you so much for sending in this ask and for (hopefully!) reading my fic! I really appreciate the support and am so grateful that people are willing to take the time to send me fun asks like this! Thank you so much and I hope you have a FANTASTIC rest of your day / night!

❤️Ally

[aristobun]

Stepping in front of the other to shield them from something/someone. (Helene and Fugitive Predator?)

@tearsofrevali | helene and mak’to 🛸

“ Ooman.. you are.. not smart, “ are the first words that leave his mouth as soon as the hit to her shoulder sends her hurtling right into him, blood oozing from the wound.

Mak’to wasn’t going to thank her right now, even though he probably should consider it to make her feel better, but all he can see is how stupid her behaviour is. Jumping in front of a bullet for an armored Predator was not something he could have predicted she would do, but it did make him grin.

A scowl pulls across the womans lips before a deep hiss full of pain leaves her and she stumbles, but his arms are too quick to allow her to hit the ground. His mandibles click furiously as he inspects the bullet wound with his golden eyes, anger with her foolish actions at the forefront of his mind.

“ You know.. you could say thank you, “ she rasps, her voice a little taken by the sharp pain in her shoulder as she presses a hand over it to stop at least some of the bleeding.

His eyes seem to glow a little brighter in the darkness of the evening as he looks down at her, towering over her frame but somehow managing to appear soft with the expression now on his face; it reminds her of whenever she would be in trouble for acting carelessly and her father would give her that same look, before berating her out of concern for her safety.

“ Ooman.. you stepped in front of a bullet meant for me, why? “ he asks her, suddenly, pulling her out of her thoughts as he wraps an arm around her waist to keep her standing while his body shields her from any further onslaught of shots.

“ Are you really asking me that? “ she says, voice filled with a sense of both wonder and frustration at how oblivious he now appears to be, even though she’s pretty sure he knows exactly why she would do something like that for him.

Mak’to chitters softly at her as his eyes soften even more, a look on his face now proving that he knows more than he lets on and simply wishes to be abrasive about it all. The sound of his chittering and clicking seems to hook her right in as she’s staring up at him now, her doe-like eyes fixed on his face.

“ You.. feel something, for me? “ he asks her, choosing words carefully from the limited vocabulary he has.

Her face flushes immediately when he asks her that question because as much as she does now adore him, she was not at all prepared for him to be so blunt about it or put her on the spot like that. Her eyes shift down to the ground, but one of his clawed fingers settles under her chin to lift her gaze.

Rather than answer him, fearing her voice would fail her now and embarrass her even more, she stands on her tiptoes with as much strength as her weakened body allows, her hands managing to only reach his stomach as she holds herself up against him, tipping her head so she hovers close to his own face, making it quite clear to him what she wants.

“ I.. “ she tries to speak, but when he makes a move to lower his own face down toward hers, making it easier for him to reach her after crouching down a little more, she loses all of her capabilities concerning speech.

Helene swallows a large gulp then, the blush upon her cheeks deepening in colour and spreading now over the bridge of her nose as well as she keeps her eyes upon his own, noticing the lightening of the golden colour they produce.

“ I think you do— “ he says, his mandibles clicking as though he is expressing a soft laugh at her embarrassment.

“ It’s not very nice to laugh at that.. “ she says, lips pouting as she lowers herself back down again, her thoughts racing back to her shoulder now as the pain strikes a second time.

“ I never said I did not also feel something, little ooman, “ he’s saying this very quickly, almost rushing the words as further gunshots ring through the area before he picks her up.

Mak’to slings her over his shoulder as though she does not weigh anything at all to him, listening as she whines all of her frustrations while smacking her hands upon his back as a feeble attempt at showing how annoyed she is. It only aids in making him more amused, however.

“ I guess it’s not your fault that the moment was ruined, but still— “ she says and he can almost hear the pout in her voice as she says it, while he rushes along rooftops to gain some distance between themselves and those shooting at him.

“ We have… time, to finish that later, ooman, “ he tells her as they reach a much safer location deep in the woods, his hold on her never once relenting as she now simply dangles from his shoulder, huffing and puffing her complaints.

The Predator stops once he feels they are now deep enough in the woods that no more harm will come to them but especially not to her——he would not say so outright, but he did not like the fact that she had been hurt because of him.

If only he had been less careless, perhaps a little more receptive to the way in which she had made it known all night she may or may not have jumped in front of a bullet with her own body to shield his, in spite of the protection he wore.

Mak’to sets her down upon the large tree branch then, his golden eyes scanning both their surroundings and the deep wound in her shoulder, before swiping up his medicomp to tend to the bullet and stop the bleeding as it ran down her arm and her chest. The pained expression on her face makes his own soften a little once more and he chitters again.

“ Thank you, Mak’to— “ she says, her words whispered under her breath as she grits her teeth against the feeling of all the equipment he pulls from the medikit to help heal her.

“ Little ooman, you should not have done this, “ he tells her, very stern in tone as his eyes land on her own again and he is staring at her with such a sincere, concerned look on his face as he speaks those words, his mandibles clicking. “ .. could have been killed, “ he adds, a soft roar leaving him.

Helene offers him a sad smile in understanding, one of her hands coming up to rest gently against the side of his face, careful not to scratch herself against the mandibles that are still clicking away as he works on cleaning and healing her bullet wound, while she continues to grit her teeth against the feeling, even more so when he retrieves the bullet with his claws before injecting the wound with a serum.

“ Ahh.. “ she almost yells her complaint louder than she had intended to then, before he silences her with a clawed hand over her mouth, as though that would not annoy her. “ Hey, I’m allowed to yell in pain if it hurts. I don’t think any of those people are coming this deep into the woods after you. “

“ Ooman must stay quiet, “ he simply says, clicking at her in frustration over her defiance. “ These woods are not safe from other.. Yautja, “ he tells her, seeing her fear increase.

Helene swallows another large gulp when she hears him say that and she has no idea just how deadly the other Predators would be. Seeing that he is worried about it himself makes her even more nervous, so she does as he asks and remains quiet while he finishes cleaning and dressing her wound.

“ Where will we be safe? “ she suddenly asks, eyes darting up to meet his own as she awaits an answer, hoping it will be a good one and he doesn’t just say they won’t be.

“ Ship, “ is all he says in response, his focus completely on the task at hand now as he uses the wound clamps without even preparing her for it, but his hand covers her mouth again long before she can make a sound as screams right into it.

[everystephoftheway]

#22 for vaxleth in tlovm!

50 Types of Kisses - Writing Prompts 22. A kiss that is leading to more, but is interrupted by a third party.

“Vax, wait.” Keyleth reaches forward and grabs him by the wrist. He turns around instantly, and Keyleth’s heart is in her throat.

What the hell are they doing? Here they stand, on the precipice of death, at the door of a freaking dragon’s lair, and Vax wants to go do recon? Alone?

He looks at her expectantly, though for what he isn’t sure. And now that she has him she doesn’t want to let go. Her hand squeezes his wrist, a thousand ideas racing through her head. They can run away, use those wings of his and fly far away from here, where there are no dragons in the sky, no grand fates or plans or acts of bravery. Just them, together.

She knows that can’t be. He’s going to go into that lair, for better or for worse. They are all going to follow and face an acid spitting, nightmare fueling dragon for the second time today, and she wasn’t sure they could win. What if there was no tomorrow?

Before she can think any more, Keyleth pulls on his wrist, their chests collide, and she presses her lips to his. There’s a moment where she can feel him tense against her, overtaken with surprise, but just as quickly he melts. His hands find the sides of her neck, fingers intertwining with strands of fiery hair. Her hands stretch across his back, holding him close. Her heartbeat booms in her ears, but her only focus in this moment is him. Their lips move together as if they’d done this a thousand times before, like it was kismet.

The only thing that pulls their attention away from each other is the suddenly very awkward shuffling of the group behind them, all now turning their backs (except for Scanlan who is living his absolute best life watching). Vax is the first to stop–of course he is–but he does not go far, his forehead pressing to Keyleth’s, breath heavy on her nose. Her eyes are still closed; she doesn’t want to open them and see his flushed cheeks and that stupid smile. She won’t be able to let him go if she does.

“Remember,” she whispers, voice on the edge of cracking. “The safe word is Chenga.”

She can feel the huff of breath from his soft chuckle, and he presses his forehead against hers just a little bit harder.

“I’ll see you soon, Kiki.” And with that, his hands fell from her neck and he was gone.

[gloryseized]

Link: 👐

Meme Tag -- @regnantlight

Link pauses at the sudden touch to his cheeks. He'd known Zelda was standing there, heard her quiet steps and the shushing of her skirt fabric as she crouched down to see what he was down. And he doesn't mind her watching his work, hands running along the wood of his bow to make sure it stays in fighting condition. The touch surprises him though, hands stilling as her eyes flick up to study her face.

And her expression is unreadable, although with a certain kindness that he's not sure how to interpret, a heaviness resting on his chest as he has to remind himself how to breathe. The touch is so tender, so soft, that Link finds the tension unwinding from his spine, unwinding from his shoulders and his neck, places he doesn't even realize. And his eyes slide closed, settling into her hold on his cheeks.

[whysamwhy123]

What's your favourite fanart?

Oh man, that's a tough one. I'm bad at favourites, but just going from what I could think of off the top of my head or find in my likes, there's these three! (I am Bad at this so if the links don't work, I apologise. In my defence, I am stupid and very tired)

Grace Toscano on Tumblr: finally had some time to draw bloody valentines orange cassidy 🍊💖💅

💕🔫🆙 on Tumblr: past life

Where’s Hook?? - Flyguys - All Elite Wrestling [Archive of Our Own]

[stars-written]

24 - 26 for the develop your OC meme!

develop your OC meme;; accepting!

How dramatic is your oc? Do they make a big deal over every little thing, or do they fail to react to even the most crazy of events?

(Nil-Rae keeps quite a bit to herself; her thoughts, her impressions, her feelings. As such, she tends to be very direct and to the point in conversation. She doesn't embellish (she may outright lie or bend the truth but she doesn't exaggerate things), she doesn't overact, she doesn't get flustered. She is and can be very expressive if she feels comfortable with someone but she tries to keep a straight face and an even keel about most things.

(It stems from her mother's tales of her father: a stoic, wise-beyond-his-years young man who could care very deeply but never lost his head. Nil-Rae doesn't know how much of that is true or simply her mother's lovesick recollection of a man she knew 20+ years ago (and briefly at that) but the habit of imitating him was formed in her youngest years when she grew up yearning to be just like him.)

How does your oc handle being sick? Do they pretend not to be? Do they complain a lot? How susceptible to getting sick are they?

(Nil's immune system is on the average-less than average side. She doesn't get, like, super ill all the time but she does seem to catch a cold whenever she lands planet-side somewhere new and spends a few days there. Think, like, how you can get severe colds whenever the temperature suddenly spikes in late fall/early winter or when you visit some place far enough away that you aren't used to the pollen there. She doesn't necessarily hate being sick or get whiny and complain when it happens (she's kinda used to it at this point and often brings special medical supplies to handle the inevitable sinus drainage when she travels) but she's also the type to push through being sick and try to keep going despite needing rest.)

How stylistically fancy is your oc? Or would they rather go for comfort and plainness instead?

(Ehhh, mid? Ish? Look, if I could draw you a diagram whose vertical axis was age and whose horizontal axis was "desire to be fancy," it would be a huge bell curve with her youngest and most current years being low to non-existent and her early-late twenties being, like, UP THERE. As a girl, she never had an occasion to dress fancy and never really cared about dressing up because, well, why would she? Sure, getting a new dress was a special thing once in a very great while but living in a farming village far from the big city meant that dresses were more of a hindrance than anything.

(Once Xan gets a hold of her, though, and starts lavishing her with the finer things and feeding her selfishness, that all changes. Suddenly she's resentful of the dirty, poor, labor-intensive life she'd lived up to that point and yearns, not for the simple, minimalist life of a Jedi but for something prettier, something far more materialistic. She delights in being dressed in the finest things and the softest fabrics and being seen as fancy or well-to-do.

(Nowadays, with that life more (or less) behind her, she has mellowed quite a bit and feels guilty for the way she was as Governess. She happily settles for the life of a farmer once more when she's called home to Felucia. She still likes looking nice on occasion but mainly only when the occasion calls for it.)

[xiaoxiongmaos]

top 5 beomgyu looks!

how could you even do this to a bamtori <|3 have a huge moodboard instead because i couldn't decide on just 5 dfjgfjk (the last 5 in the middle column are my top 5 for now though ♡)

[erudianokabe]

Eren and Marco approach Reiner smiling with a cake for him. “Happy birthday Reiner!”

You'd think a guy could get a break for even just a day.

Reiner shook his head as he watched his fellow cadets scamper away after he had told them to shape up. Who the hell had the time to squabble amongst themselves like children when there were so many things that they needed to not only do, but mostly, learn. None of them had time to spare on these kiddy fights and disagreements.

However, something did catch his attention.

Familiar voices rang out, addressing him with a tone so jolly that it was hard not to feel a bit sheepish. That, of course, was something that he endeavored not to make too visible on his face. Instead, he turned to where the voices came from and raised a hand in casual greeting. What surprised him the most, however, was to be met with a cake.

Oh yeah, today's that day, huh? He thought to himself.

"Aww, you guys shouldn't have." There was a grin on his face as he hooked his arm around their necks. He was careful, of course, not to tip them both over too much. It'd be a waste if the cake dropped on the ground.

"C'mon, let's go ahead and bring this to the mess hall; eat it with everyone, yeah?"

[rossithepixie]

rossi!! i hope you feel better soon❤️‍🩹 does roruru like to travel? where would you three most like to go?

Ahhh hi Amira and thank you 💕It's just one of those days so far. But it makes me feel a lil better to see you in my inbox

And we definitely like to travel! Which is a good thing since work often requires it. Hmmm where would the three of us like to go.. For shorter travel we end up making an annual trip to Hokkaido once they learn how much i want to go there. I think i've mentioned this one before for an anniversary ask I think... I mean saying Hokkaido as an answer not the travel part

But a place all three of us would like to go that's further away... I'm not super good with hot climates so I think a place like Zermatt in Switzerland would make a lovely vacation and i could be both charmed and annoyed by how good Satoru and Suguru are immediately at snowboarding. For a warmer vacation (where during the day i smell like sunscreen and wear a hat and over sized sunglasses ) I think Singaore would be a fun place to go.

I've done quite a bit of traveling alone in the US up and down the east coast and dealing with planes and the idea of traveling with two people who would probably be more than willing to handle the stressful bits of travel is a relief.

[marinerainbow]

Okay so we know how Poppy would react to meeting Hilda... what if she met Snow? !

What if Poppy was just walking on the street one day, going shopping or something, and a car drives by and splashes her!! 2 second later Snow Fricken White has run over to help her dry off and get warm. "Oh no I saw what happened! Would you allow me to help you?? Come with me, I'll make you a cup of tea, too ^^ "

Oh my gosh! That sounds so cute!! Poppy thought Snow White was the sweetest in the movie. She would love to meet the princess in real life like Grimhilde ^^

I can see that scenario so vividly! I'm gonna assume Poppy might be on her way to work or to the bus stop to home if not, then Snow why tf are you in Downtown? If Snow is in Downtown, Poppy is dedicating the rest of her day to getting this cinnamon roll back home safely. Poppy is so shocked that a Disney character, let alone a princess is talking to her! And she's just as kind as she is in the movie ^^ Poppy would definitely appreciate that ^^

Bro imagine like, when Snow says she'll make Poppy some tea, she brings her to her home or something, and there are more of the princesses there! Like idk maybe Snow brought Poppy into a princess meeting or something. And now Pops is sitting there, all pikachu face meme in the middle of Disney wealth. And they're all being just as nice as they are on screen!

Either way, Poppy would be coming home, clothes dry because we know Snow White wouldn't let Poppy leave with soaking clothes, still wide eyed in shock. If she's got somebody, she'd be like, "Honey, I just had quite the day today." And their response depends on who she's with XD

[howthesleeplesswander]

‘ when was the last time you slept? ’

[ for kaeya ;~; ]

Random Dialogue Meme | Accepting!

((Thank you for sending this in!! T~T catch me immediately sobbing tbh asjdfjkjf plz just get along you two))

"Why, Master Diluc, surely that can't be concern that I hear in your voice." While Kaeya's tone was as light and coy as always, the words themselves carried a thinly veiled edge. As much a dig at Diluc as they were a stern reminder to himself.

He couldn't let himself believe it was sincere. Not again. No matter how desperately he wished it was.

"And really, I should be the one asking you that question." Effortlessly, Kaeya deflected the matter in the opposite direction. So long as he refused to entertain those futile hopes, he could go on pretending he didn't feel the painful twisting buried deep in his frosted heart.

"Tell me, have any late-night excursions kept you awake lately?" The glimmer in his knowing stare betrayed his meaning without having to mention "the Darknight Hero" by name. But then he shrugged, his arms spread wide in mock helplessness. "Ah, but what am I saying? Surely that should be no concern of mine, either, now should it?"

[allylikethecat]

Hiya! If you’re still doing the kiss prompts, I’d love to hear your take on 1 & 2!

Hello! Sorry this took me literally ten million years to finish! Thank you so much for sending it in though - the Kiss Prompts are my absolute favorite and I had so much fun working on this one! I combined them both into one prompt because I thought that would be fun - I hope that's okay! Let me know what you think and if this was what you were looking for! Thank you so much for sending it in! (Also... I realized later there wasn't a pairing listed so I just did Matty/George and if that wasn't what you were looking for let me know and I can rewrite it!

Thank you again for indulging me and sending this in!

❤️Ally

1. Kiss… good morning & 2. Kiss… goodnight

George groaned when his alarm went off, the sound low and pained, pulling itself from the back of his throat. The three am wake up call for a six fifteen flight always seemed less miserable on paper compared to in practice. He rolled over onto his back, his phone still screeching from where it lay on the bedside table, he groped blindingly, desperately pressing the snooze button so that the insistent siren-esque alarm would stop at least for the next eight minutes. He groaned again, turning his head to apologize to Matty for waking him up as well, when he realized he was alone. He reached for the bedside table, and turned on the lamp, finding the sheets on Matty’s side of the bed cold and unslept in. George sighed, forcing himself to sit up. It was so early in the morning that Matty hadn’t even come to bed yet. 

Turning off the alarm on his phone fully, lest it start blaring again, he pulled himself from the blankets and shuffled barefoot into the bathroom to brush his teeth. He hated the early flights out of Heathrow, even though he knew he would be happy when he landed in New York and it was still Friday morning, the rest of his day still in front of him. He yawned around his toothbrush, thankful he had the foresight to finish packing his bag the night before, along with laying out a pair of joggers and a long sleeved tee shirt to wear on the plane. He didn’t feel awake enough to be digging through their shared closet at the moment. With his luck he would have packed a pair of Matty’s trousers in his exhaustion and been shit out of luck.

He swiped some of Matty’s deodorant under his arms, his own already stowed in his carry on and pulled on the joggers and tee shirt. It was too early for coffee, even, he thought, running his fingers through his close cropped hair. It was too early to be alive. The prearranged car would be picking him up soon, he thought with a yawn, he would have preferred to take the tube, but the Elizabeth line wasn’t running at three thirty in the morning.

He dragged his bag out of the bedroom and sat it by the front door, double checking that he had his laptop charger in his backpack, and then set off in search of Matty. He was easy enough to find, George could hear the soft strum of an acoustic guitar coming from the music room, the cords cutting off abruptly when Matty either stopped to write something down, or sigh in frustration. He was playing quietly, as if he was worried about waking George up. George pushed the half open door open fully, and Mayhem lifted his head up in acknowledgement from where he lay on the couch, before resting it once again on the cushions. George smiled despite himself. Matty and Mayhem both knew that he wasn’t allowed on the furniture. Matty was sitting on the floor in front of the couch, his back to the door as if he was playing for Mayhem, a private show for his best boy. 

He looked soft and rumpled, George though, leaning against the door frame watching him. His curls were messy and sticking out in every direction as if he had been running his fingers through them. He was wearing old plaid pajama pants with a hole in the knee and one of George’s hoodies- it was so big on him that George knew when he stood it would come down to mid thigh. He hadn’t heard George open the door, too lost in thought, hunched over his guitar,  crumpled up pieces of paper surrounding him on the floor, an empty bottle of wine was by his left knee, the dirty glass next to it. There was a pile of paper towels a few feet away from where Matty was sitting and George was willing to bet that Matty had knocked over the glass at some point, and was trying to hide the evidence of the stained carpet. There were cigarette butts smoldering in the ashtray on the low coffee table, and a fresh one tucked behind Matty’s ear. 

Matty’s Macbook was open in front of him as he worked, the screen brightness turned down low. George had drilled it into his head that even if he doubted what he was working on, he needed to record it in case they wanted to pull from it later. He leaned over, writing something down in his notebook before turning back to the guitar in his lap. George swallowed a sigh, he hated to interrupt him, content to just watch him work, but he needed to say goodbye, the car would be there any minute. He hated that he was going to New York without him, but work was pulling them in opposite directions. Matty was needed for creative meetings in London, and George was being summoned to New York for a mystery project with Jack. 

“What are you working on?” he asked softly, not wanting to break the calm. Matty flinched anyway, turning his head with startled wide eyes, the stillness broken like a rock tossed into a pond shattering the surface tension, transverse waves moving away from the center focal point  as Matty blinked up at George as if he had gotten caught committing a crime red handed. 

“Did I wake you?” Matty asked, concern heavy in his exhausted voice. 

“I’m heading to the airport,” George said, swallowing a yawn of his own. 

Matty blinked, scrambling for his phone to see what time it was. He stared at the glowing numbers in disbelief. 

“Fuck,” he swore, “I didn’t realize it had gotten so late.” 

George chuckled, “Early you mean.” 

“Early,” Matty conceded, setting the guitar on the floor and standing up, he made his way over to George, wrapping his arms around his waist and resting his cheek against his chest. “Good morning then, I guess,” he said, standing up on his tiptoes to press his lips to George’s. 

George deepened the kiss, licking against the seam of Matty’s lips until he was granted access, tasting the red wine and cigarettes on Matty’s tongue. Home. Matty tasted like home. Matty pulled away, raising his hand to his mouth to try and stifle a yawn. He was sleepy and tipsy and George hated to leave him. 

“And goodnight to you,” said George, pressing a kiss to Matty’s forehead. Matty tightened his grip on George’s waist, not wanting to let him go even as George’s phone buzzed in his pocket against Matty’s stomach, with the notification of his car’s arrival. 

Matty yawned again. “Have a good flight,” he said, making no effort to detach himself from George’s person. 

“Sleep well,” George said, doing nothing to discourage him.