#Built Up Felt Services

[fasihajavaid]

Built-Up Felt Roofing Services: The Ultimate Guide by Tsamuels Roofing

The type of roofing you choose can have a significant impact on how well your building is protected from the weather, particularly if you are managing a commercial or industrial property. A well-liked and proven choice is built-up felt (BUR) roofing. Tsamuels Roofing provides professional services to guarantee your roofing system endures the test of time if you're thinking about implementing BUR on your property. We'll go over all you need to know about Built-Up Felt services in this extensive guide, including their advantages, how they're installed, and why Tsamuels Roofing ought to be your first choice.

What is Built-Up Felt Roofing?

Built Up Felt Services (BUR) roofing, often referred to as “tar and gravel” roofing, is a type of flat roofing system that has been a staple in the roofing industry for many years. This roofing method involves layering sheets of felt (usually made from fiberglass or organic materials) and bonding them together with bitumen—a mixture of asphalt and other materials.

How Built-Up Felt Roofing Works

Imagine BUR roofing as a cake with multiple layers. Each layer of felt is embedded in bitumen, and then topped with a layer of gravel or a reflective coating. This creates a strong, waterproof barrier that protects your building from rain, snow, and UV rays. The layers work together to provide excellent insulation and durability, making BUR roofing a reliable choice for many commercial and industrial properties.

Why Choose Built-Up Felt Roofing?

There are several compelling reasons to consider BUR for your building. Let’s break down some of the key benefits:

Durability and Longevity

BUR roofing is known for its long-lasting performance. The multiple layers of felt and bitumen create a robust shield that can handle extreme weather conditions, from heavy rain to intense sunlight. It’s like having an extra layer of armor on your roof. With proper maintenance, BUR roofs can last 20 years or more, providing excellent value for your investment.

Cost-Effectiveness

One of the major advantages of BUR roofing is its cost-effectiveness. While the initial installation might be more affordable compared to some other roofing systems, the durability and longevity of BUR mean that you’ll save money in the long run. Think of it as a solid investment that pays off over time, reducing the need for frequent repairs or replacements.

Excellent Waterproofing

If you live in an area with heavy rainfall or snow, waterproofing is a top priority. BUR roofing excels in this department. The layers of felt and bitumen create a watertight seal that prevents leaks and keeps your building dry. It’s like having an impenetrable shield that keeps moisture at bay.

Reflective and Insulating Properties

BUR roofing systems can be customized with reflective coatings or gravel to enhance their energy efficiency. Reflective coatings help to deflect sunlight, reducing heat absorption and lowering cooling costs. Additionally, the multiple layers provide excellent insulation, helping to maintain a comfortable indoor temperature.

The Installation Process

Installing a Built-Up Felt roofing system involves several steps, each crucial for ensuring a durable and effective roof. Here’s a rundown of what you can expect:

1. Inspection and Preparation

Before installation begins, a thorough inspection of the existing roof is conducted. This includes checking for any damage or issues that need to be addressed. The surface is then cleaned and prepared to ensure proper adhesion of the BUR materials.

2. Application of Bitumen

The first layer of felt is applied to the roof deck and bonded with hot bitumen. This process is repeated with additional layers of felt, creating a strong, laminated surface. The bitumen acts as both an adhesive and a waterproofing agent.

3. Installation of Additional Layers

Additional layers of felt are added, each bonded with more bitumen. The number of layers can vary depending on the specific requirements of the building and the desired level of protection. Each layer is carefully applied to ensure a smooth, continuous surface.

4. Finishing Touches

The final layer typically involves the application of a protective layer, such as gravel or a reflective coating. This layer helps to protect the underlying felt from UV rays and physical damage, ensuring the longevity of the roof.

5. Inspection and Quality Assurance

Once the installation is complete, a final inspection is conducted to ensure that the BUR roofing system meets all quality standards. Any necessary adjustments or touch-ups are made to ensure a perfect finish.

Why Tsamuels Roofing is Your Best Choice

When it comes to Built-Up Felt services, Tsamuels Roofing stands out for its expertise, quality, and customer satisfaction. Here’s why:

Experienced Professionals

Tsamuels Roofing has years of experience in installing and maintaining Built-Up Felt roofing systems. Our team of skilled professionals understands the intricacies of BUR roofing and ensures that every installation is completed to the highest standards.

High-Quality Materials

We use only the best materials for our BUR roofing systems, ensuring durability and long-lasting performance. Our commitment to quality means that you get a roofing solution that stands up to the toughest conditions and provides excellent value for your investment.

Comprehensive Services

From initial consultation to final installation and maintenance, Tsamuels Roofing offers a full range of services to meet your needs. We work closely with you to understand your requirements and provide a tailored solution that fits your building and budget.

Customer Satisfaction

At Tsamuels Roofing, customer satisfaction is our top priority. We pride ourselves on delivering exceptional service and ensuring that our clients are completely satisfied with their roofing systems. Our attention to detail and commitment to quality set us apart from the competition.

Maintenance and Care for Built-Up Felt Roofing

Proper maintenance is key to extending the life of your Built-Up Felt roofing system. Here are some tips to keep your roof in top condition:

Regular Inspections

Schedule regular inspections to check for any signs of wear or damage. Early detection of issues can prevent costly repairs and ensure that your roof remains in good shape.

Clean the Roof

Keep the roof clean and free of debris. Accumulated debris can trap moisture and cause damage over time. Regular cleaning helps maintain the roof’s integrity and performance.

Check for Leaks

Inspect the roof for any signs of leaks or water damage. Addressing leaks promptly can prevent further damage and extend the lifespan of your roofing system.

Professional Maintenance

Consider hiring professionals for regular maintenance and repairs. Experienced contractors can perform thorough inspections and address any issues with expertise and efficiency.

Conclusion

Built-Up Felt (BUR) roofing is a time-tested and reliable choice for protecting your building from the elements. With its durability, cost-effectiveness, and excellent waterproofing properties, BUR roofing offers a solid solution for commercial and industrial properties. Tsamuels Roofing provides expert Built-Up Felt services to ensure that your roofing system is installed and maintained to the highest standards. By choosing Tsamuels

Roofing, you’re investing in quality and longevity for your property.

In summary, Built-Up Felt roofing provides a robust, long-lasting solution for flat and low-sloped roofs. Its layered construction offers superior protection against the elements, and when installed by professionals like Tsamuels Roofing, you can be confident in its durability and performance. Regular maintenance will keep your BUR roof in top shape, ensuring that it continues to safeguard your building effectively.

Whether you're considering a new installation or need expert maintenance, Tsamuels Roofing is here to provide top-notch Built-Up Felt services that meet your needs and exceed your expectations. Contact us today to discuss your roofing project and experience the difference of working with a trusted roofing expert.

[madsway]

now that i've taken in the entire show and am about to rewatch simply because i can............... i'm so pissed that dave erickson got fired because damn........

[evvlogetarian]

Really hoping once I'm on my actual work schedule n not this training stuff I won't feel as tired or pressed for time,,, sadly pets my neglected children (ocs n fandom meemows)

[fingertipsmp3]

I love TS2 but it has some really stupid mechanics built into it

[ketchuppee]

During the 2008 recession, my aunt lost her job. Her, her partner, and my three cousins moved across the country to stay with us while they got back on their feet. My house turned from a family of four to a family of nine overnight, complete with three dogs and five cats between us.

It took a few years for them to get a place of their own, but after a few rentals and apartments, they now own a split level ranch in a town nearby. I’ve lost track of how many coworkers and friends have stayed with them when they were in a tight spot. A mother and son getting out of an abusive relationship, a divorcee trying to stay local for his kids while they work out a custody agreement, you name it. My aunt and uncle knew first hand what that kindness meant, and always find space for someone who needed it, the way my parents had for them.

That same aunt and uncle visited me in [redacted] city last year. They are prolific drinkers, so we spent most of the day bar hopping. As we wandered the city, any time we passed a homeless person, my uncle would pull out a fresh cigarette and ask them if they had a light. Regardless of if they had a lighter on hand or not, he offered them a few bucks in exchange, which he explained to me after was because he felt it would be easier for them to accept in exchange for a service, no matter how small.

I work for a company that produces a lot of fabric waste. Every few weeks, I bring two big black trash bags full of discarded material over to a woman who works down the hall. She distributes them to local churches, quilting clubs, and teachers who can use them for crafts. She’s currently in the process of working with our building to set up a recycling program for the smaller pieces of fabric that are harder to find use for.

One of my best friends gives monthly donations to four or five local organizations. She’s fortunate enough to have a tech job that gives her a good salary, and she knows that a recurring donation is more valuable to a non-profit because they can rely on that money month after month, and can plan ways to stretch that dollar for maximum impact. One of those organizations is a native plant trust, and once she’s out of her apartment complex and in a home with a yard, she has plans to convert it into a haven of local flora.

My partner works for a company that is working to help regulate crypto and hold the current bad actors in the space accountable for their actions. We unfortunately live in a time where technology develops far too fast for bureaucracy to keep up with, but just because people use a technology for ill gain doesn’t mean the technology itself is bad. The blockchain is something that she finds fascinating and powerful, and she is using her degree and her expertise to turn it into a tool for good.

I knew someone who always had a bag of treats in their purse, on the odd chance they came across a stray cat or dog, they had something to offer them.

I follow artists who post about every local election they know of, because they know their platform gives them more reach than the average person, and that they can leverage that platform to encourage people to vote in elections that get less attention, but in many ways have more impact on the direction our country is going to go.

All of this to say, there’s more than one way to do good in the world. Social media leads us to believe that the loudest, the most vocal, the most prolific poster is the most virtuous, but they are only a piece of the puzzle. (And if virtue for virtues sake is your end goal, you’ve already lost, but that’s a different post). Community is built of people leveraging their privileges to help those without them. We need people doing all of those things and more, because no individual can or should do all of it. You would be stretched too thin, your efforts valiant, but less effective in your ambition.

None of this is to encourage inaction. Identify your unique strengths, skills, and privileges, and put them to use. Determine what causes are important to you, and commit to doing what you can to help them. Collective action is how change is made, but don’t forget that we need diversity in actions taken.

[mariacallous]

The Ocean Sciences Building at the University of Washington in Seattle is a brightly modern, four-story structure, with large glass windows reflecting the bay across the street.

On the afternoon of July 7, 2016, it was being slowly locked down.

Red lights began flashing at the entrances as students and faculty filed out under overcast skies. Eventually, just a handful of people remained inside, preparing to unleash one of the most destructive forces in the natural world: the crushing weight of about 2½ miles of ocean water.

In the building’s high-pressure testing facility, a black, pill-shaped capsule hung from a hoist on the ceiling. About 3 feet long, it was a scale model of a submersible called Cyclops 2, developed by a local startup called OceanGate. The company’s CEO, Stockton Rush, had cofounded the company in 2009 as a sort of submarine charter service, anticipating a growing need for commercial and research trips to the ocean floor. At first, Rush acquired older, steel-hulled subs for expeditions, but in 2013 OceanGate had begun designing what the company called “a revolutionary new manned submersible.” Among the sub’s innovations were its lightweight hull, which was built from carbon fiber and could accommodate more passengers than the spherical cabins traditionally used in deep-sea diving. By 2016, Rush’s dream was to take paying customers down to the most famous shipwreck of them all: the Titanic, 3,800 meters below the surface of the Atlantic Ocean.

Engineers carefully lowered the Cyclops 2 model into the testing tank nose-first, like a bomb being loaded into a silo, and then screwed on the tank’s 3,600-pound lid. Then they began pumping in water, increasing the pressure to mimic a submersible’s dive. If you’re hanging out at sea level, the weight of the atmosphere above you exerts 14.7 pounds per square inch (psi). The deeper you go, the stronger that pressure; at the Titanic’s depth, the pressure is about 6,500 psi. Soon, the pressure gauge on UW’s test tank read 1,000 psi, and it kept ticking up—2,000 psi, 5,000 psi. At about the 73-minute mark, as the pressure in the tank reached 6,500 psi, there was a sudden roar and the tank shuddered violently.

“I felt it in my body,” an OceanGate employee wrote in an email later that night. “The building rocked, and my ears rang for a long time.”

“Scared the shit out of everyone,” he added.

The model had imploded thousands of meters short of the safety margin OceanGate had designed for.

In the high-stakes, high-cost world of crewed submersibles, most engineering teams would have gone back to the drawing board, or at least ordered more models to test. Rush’s company didn’t do either of those things. Instead, within months, OceanGate began building a full-scale Cyclops 2 based on the imploded model. This submersible design, later renamed Titan, eventually made it down to the Titanic in 2021. It even returned to the site for expeditions the next two years. But nearly one year ago, on June 18, 2023, Titan dove to the infamous wreck and imploded, instantly killing all five people onboard, including Rush himself.

The disaster captivated and horrified the world. Deep-sea experts criticized OceanGate’s choices, from Titan’s carbon-fiber construction to Rush’s public disdain for industry regulations, which he believed stifled innovation. Organizations that had worked with OceanGate, including the University of Washington as well as the Boeing Company, released statements denying that they contributed to Titan.

A trove of tens of thousands of internal OceanGate emails, documents, and photographs provided exclusively to WIRED by anonymous sources sheds new light on Titan’s development, from its initial design and manufacture through its first deep-sea operations. The documents, validated by interviews with two third-party suppliers and several former OceanGate employees with intimate knowledge of Titan, reveal never-before-reported details about the design and testing of the submersible. They show that Boeing and the University of Washington were both involved in the early stages of OceanGate’s carbon-fiber sub project, although their work did not make it into the final Titan design. The trove also reveals a company culture in which employees who questioned their bosses’ high-speed approach and decisions were dismissed as overly cautious or even fired. (The former employees who spoke to WIRED have asked not to be named for fear of being sued by the families of those who died aboard the vessel.) Most of all, the documents show how Rush, blinkered by his own ambition to be the Elon Musk of the deep seas, repeatedly overstated OceanGate’s progress and, on at least one occasion, outright lied about significant problems with Titan’s hull, which has not been previously reported.

A representative for OceanGate, which ceased all operations last summer, declined to comment on WIRED’s findings.

[bunny-jpeg]

baby fever

capt. john price

cw: smut/pwp, dirty talk, breeding/pregnancy, filthy, husband!price, slight age gap (reader is early 20s, price late 30s), military formal wear, oral (m receiving), doggy style, unprotected

bunny says: i thought about built/chubby price and him in his military formals and my brain turned off. this was the end result.

price wasn't beating the bear allegations. while he wasn't a gay bear, he knew that there were a lot of women who loved his physique. dusting of hair, built but enjoyed a good sunday roast. thick fingers and broad tongue. he was a built man after his years of service.

but if price had to pin you as an animal, it would be his little chickadee. small and fragile with a cute little song. the most loveliest thing he had ever laid his eyes on. no wonder within a year of dating, you were already engaged.

price knew when he had a good thing going and didn't want to ruin it. you were still in university, but he'd never make his darling girl quit school for his sake.

"'ey, love." he said as he walked past you on your laptop. he leaned in and kissed the side of your neck, "studyin' well?"

you looked over and smiled at him, "of course, big bear." you took him by the face and kissed him on the cheek. your engagement ring gleamed in the light of the living room.

but even the brightest university students could easily crumble against a man like price. it didn't help that there was a spike in your baby fever. it was almost embarrassing when you watched price in the living room, shining his uniform boots. it also didn't help when he was making sure that formal attire still fit.

he noticed you staring, you didn't try to hide it.

he stood there in front of the full length mirror in your shared bedroom. the beret, the jacket, the medals. hands on his hips as he looked at you. he smiled, his eyes crinkled at the sight of your jaw almost on the floor.

"tryin' to see if everythin' still fit. need to go back to the gym, your cookin' is gonna be the death of me, love." he chuckled. he dragged his tongue across his top teeth and said, "now that i know, why don't ya help me get out of it."

maybe a man in uniform was your (not-so) secret kink. you've seen him in everything under the sun, but every time it still made your throat dry. you were in your sunday pajamas, paired with fuzzy slippers.

he reached out for you, "ya like when i'm dressed like this, huh?" he chuckled as he tilted his head down to kiss the top of your head.

"i mean." you said, "you look good." you blushed a little bit more and looked away from him, but he took you by the chin to look at him. those blue eyes peered into yours.

"don't be shy, love." he said, "i like when ya stare."

you held onto the front of his jacket, the thick material felt heavy in your grasp. you could feel the wetness between your legs. damn price. you said, "you look good, big bear."

he reached down and took a handful of your ass, "and you look even better, my chickadee. now c'mon, undress yer man." then licked his top lip at the sight of your delicate hands trying to undo the formal jacket. he then took you by the head again and said, "pants first." then helped you onto your knees.

you swallowed and looked up at him. if anyone looked inside, they'd see a weird power dynamic. but all price saw was an eager little birdie trying to get her hands on her husband.

"those medals look nice." you said as he reached for his belt.

he chuckled, "not as nice as your lips on my cock." then dragged a hand through your hair. the belt soon came off as his pants were unzipped. he was thankful that he knew how to get any stains out of his uniform, because he knew you were a messy girl.

you took his cock out of his slacks. it stood was full attention and even after all this time together, the sight of it was still arousing. cut, thick, a deep pink (not quite red) and almost eight inches in length. you once joked it was a "porno dick".

you kissed the underside of it with such warmth that it made the man shudder. then started the slow, small licks against the shaft. you chuckled to yourself at the feeling of his cock under your tongue. he felt like a dream.

"that's a good girl. my darlin' girl." he said with a hint of pride in his voice. he loved the sight of you on his knees. even if the sweat down his back was making the heavy jacket more uncomfortable.

you stroked the base of his cock with one hand while you put your mouth fully on the tip. you teased it with wet strokes of you tongue. you could hear the gruff noise your husband made.

you squirmed a little while on your knees and could feel a dull throb between your legs. price's cock was an impressive sight and a task to fully get in your mouth.

"ya got a small mouth, love.' he remarked jokingly, "too small for all of this. but i know you'll do your best.' he combed his fingers through your hair once more before it rested on the back of your head.

he supported your head while you continued to orally pleasure him. he loved his woman on her knees in front of him. while he held you in high regard, he thought you were the sweetest things since strawberries on cake, but there was something about seeing HIS woman like this.

you looked up at him and a groan got caught in his throat. you gave him a cute little wink before you continued to stroke him off. your other hand was on his strong thigh for support as you pleasured him.

"oh sweet fuck." he groaned.

you knew you'd never take all of him in your throat but you made the most of what you could. his cock was heavy in your mouth as you continued to move your head.

he gripped the back of your head, he felt hot all over as pleasure pumped through his veins. he loved his girl, his darling sweet angel. yeah the age difference was to raise an eyebrow at. but if they knew the angel he managed to get a ring on, they'd understand.

his little chickadee.

you looked up at him once more. the way he looked down at you with a guiding hand on the back of your head. you pulled your mouth off his cock and looked up at him with your tongue out of your mouth.

"fuckin' doll eyes." he said, "get back to what you were doin', i want to see you take every last drop."

you once again went back to orally pleasuring him. your hand dug into the meat of his thigh as you tried to take more of his cock in your throat. the noises that came from your husband made your core ache.

the bright pink in his cheeks made you smile as he messed up with hair with his broad hands. he felt so big next to you. his little precious wife doing everything in her power to get him off.

with a few more thrusts of your head with his cock nudging the back of your throat. you moved to keep the tip against your tongue as he came down your throat. you didn't want to choke on his cum but you savored every last salty drop.

maybe a man in uniform did things to you.

when you pulled away, you looked up at him. "i want you, john." you said as you licked your lips and wiped your chin with the back of your hand, "i want to have your babies." the baby fever was thrumming in your veins, "fuck me, big bear."

he raised an eyebrow, "babies, huh? i thought you wanted to be a working woman." he said cheekily.

you rose to your feet, your legs were shaky as you grabbed him by the front of his uniform jacket and kissed him deeply. you almost toppled over him but he held you by the middle for support. when you pulled away, you panted as you said, "breed me price, or i'll find someone else to do it."

his expression darkened, "don't be sayin' things like that, love." he pulled you close to him. his cock was still hard between you two, "you better not run off with some runt." he kissed your heated cheek, "now face down, ass up, chickadee."

you pulled away from him and turned towards the bed. you shredded your clothes and almost threw yourself onto the large mattress. your face against the pillow with your back arched and hips raised.

you felt the bed sink soon after with your husband's large hands on your hips and his cock rested against your ass.

"your uniform." you squeaked.

"i'll iron it tonight." he replied, "right now, my darlin' girl needs her pussy fucked." his vulgar language made a shiver run through you.

when he bottomed out into your pussy, you felt the air escape your lungs. you clutched onto the pillow. he got a perfect view of your backside, his gaze felt hungry against you.

"please."

"my darlin' girl." price said softly. he leaned in and kissed you on the shoulder. you felt like a tight heat around him. "my beautiful wife." price adored that you were his wife. that you decided to marry him, now he got to feel up your beautiful figure every moment.

"god, john." you moaned, "was it always this damn big?"

he chuckled lowly, "you make me hard, love. i see ya and i just go wild." he then started to kiss at your shoulders and neck.

you held onto the pillow and panted in the pillows. you felt the sweat at your back as you were fucked. you panted into the fabric and felt your husband thrust into you.

"sweeter than jam and more fuckable than a toy." he chuckled lowly as he began to pick up the pace. he could feel your heat under him, you were a dream in his eyes.

the precious wife to be a beloved captain, almost twenty years her senior. the bed creaked under your movements and the sweet sounds of your sex filled the air. it was also joined by your sweet noises that encouraged your husband to keep fucking you.

you felt hot all over as the man fucked you. the pleasure rolled through your body as you moved against the bed. you panted and moaned into the pillow and let your husband thrust into you.

"my sweet girl." he purred.

"please, john." you whined.

the sex between you two felt hot, like you were on a knife's edge as he rutted against you. you could feel the heat pool in your gut as he moved against you. sweat clung to your chest and neck. your hair stuck against your skin.

"that's it." he murmured. his cock throbbed inside of you.

your love making continued, you pushed the hair out of your eyes the more he fucked you from behind. your hands were deep in the pillow as you moaned into the fabric.

price loved the sight of you. he just thought that you looked amazing, HIS girl was like this under him. he was your big strong bear and he loved the sight of you under him. just a dream to him. his heat raced in his hairy chest as he placed more weight on you.

"shit, john." you groaned.

"I got ya. i'll be finishin' in ya soon. give ya all the babes you want." he chuckled as he kissed your heated cheek. his thrusts were quick and made you see stars behind your lids.

you were heated all over and your head was swimming. you panted wildly into the bed and with a few more strokes of his cock, you came around him.

price groaned at intense heat around his cock. he went as fast as he could and felt the sweat down his toned back. he pressed himself further into you and finished.

his cum shot to the back of your cunt and you let out a pleased noise. his pace slowed down until he stopped and pulled out. he wiped the sweat from his forehead and scratched his hairy chest, "how's that, love?"

you laid fully flat on the bed and nodded your head, "we're going to have to keep goin' though, big bear. you've done so much damage to yourself that your swimmers aren't as strong as they used to be." so you rolled onto your back and reached for him, "c'mon. fuck me again."

he chuckled as he leaned back on his heels and stroked his cock, "of course chickadee. anythin' for ya."

[himblebo]

Just successfully went for a 25 ish minute walk/jog

[lizzobetumblin]

Melissa hated her feelings. 

She buried them in a chest in the 5th grade (along with her ability to express them). Other peoples' feelings on the other hand was her forte. She could process, decipher and regurgitate other peoples emotions effortlessly. This gift could’ve taken her through college, all the way to a degree in psychology. Distinguished Dr. Jefferson with a PhD and a cozy office and impressive roster of high-profile, weallthy clients was a shiny idea. Fate would have a different hand for Melissa her talents were exhausted on mediating family fights, friend group drama, and charming her way out of confronting her own feelings. 

“Feelings.” Even saying it out loud to herself seemed silly. Something reserved for ‘cry babies’ and water signs. Typical Sunday nights started tame, reading or writing fan-fiction and drinking cranapple juice. And then like clock work her father would yell her name, 

‘MELISSA!!!’ Emotionless, she’d get up dust off her Winnie the Pooh shorts and make her way downstairs. On the long walk down the hall to the stairs leading to the living room brawl, she’d go through her check list: 

1.) Don’t cry.   

 2.) Stay neutral; Deescalate

3.)Don’t take anything personal. This isn’t about you

She padded down the carpeted stairs in her old soft socks to see her mother tightlipped and tear streaked thinking, 

‘she broke rule number 1’. Her father, Michael was proud and angry, his big belly filled with self righteousness. She knew he would be unyielding in his resolve and at this point her only option was to deescalate.

 ‘Rule number 2’. Then her sister the water sign and calamity for the evening sat on the floor nearly fetal, face red and raw with emotion. 

‘Its not your fault’ Melissa wanted to say ‘You just didn’t follow the rules… you’re loved.’ But she couldn’t say that because she’d be breaking rule number 3. It wasn’t about how Melissa felt. Even though she felt like screaming,

“VANESSA, YOU DIDN’T DO ANYTHING WRONG. DAD—YOU JUST HAVE PENT UP ANGER BECAUSE YOU GREW UP IN THE HOOD OF DETROIT AS A BLACK MAN IN THE 60s AND 70s. YOU NEED A HEALTHY OUTLET LIKE.. I DONT KNOW… THERAPY?!?!?! THIS IS A WASTE OF ALL OF OUR TIME. I LITERALLY JUST WROTE THE BEST SAILOR SATURN x CHIBI USA FANFICTION EVER AND THIS IS KILLING MY VIBE!”

Instead, she decide to hear every one out. She decided to help. To calm her dragon of a father down. To be a translator for her emotional sister. To not take it personal. To stay neutral. To not cry. 

9 years later, at her fathers funeral she still never broke the rules. She played her flute and spoke at his memorial. She was present for her mother because it wasn’t about her. When other peoples' emotions bubbled up she stayed neutral. She sat through both services and she did not cry. It wasn’t until she excused herself to make a phone call outside did she collapse onto the stairs of the funeral home and weep alone in the cold Detroit snow. 

It’s okay to break the rules sometimes, she reminded herself. As long as no one else sees it.

Traumas began to compact on Melissa, as they do. Humans tend to collect traumas like pebbles on a long hike. We toss them into our backpacks and keep moving forward. Some hikers would falter, but Melissa was built for this. She’d carried the stones of her family’s traumas uphill for years. She was strong. 

When men began to befriend and reject her, saying ‘you’re too good for me’ but not too good to make them feel good. She carried that. 

When childhood friends began to cut off the strings of her heart, saying ‘We can’t be friends anymore’. She carried that.

When her family separated like dandelion seeds, it seemed like they’d never be together again. Melissa slept on so many couches, floors and car seats sometimes she didn’t know if she’d see them again. 

She carried that. 

Dying was never an option though sometimes she didn’t mind the thought of it. Peace and warmth were two things she’d desperately yearned and hadn’t felt fully since the womb. Then one night in the pitch black of the hot, sweaty, roach-infested studio in southeast Houston she slept in she wondered:

‘Why can’t I break the rules?’ She’d seen everyone else in her life break them like popsicle sticks. And she didn’t just want to break the rules, she wanted to break them boldly and loudly and annoyingly and honestly and sloppily like every one else gets to do. It was in that moment, tucked in a thin jacket inside of an 8-foot high instrument cubby in the inky darkness���it hit her. 

‘Is my suffering for a high purpose? Or is my suffering trying to kill me?’ 

She cried. 

She escalated. 

She took it personal. 

But it wasn’t enough. She wanted to scream in a microphone in a sea of shadowy faces. She drank whiskey and wove her pain into rock music. 

‘Music is my boyfriend’ she declared. The only man that kept his baggage to hisself. And it healed her. It gave her voice reason and purpose. 

The pebble-laden hike became lighter with time. The incline eventually evened out to flat, beautiful landscapes where the breeze finally met her back. She knew it wasn’t gonna be easy or sunshine but even the rain cleansed her and it was beautiful too. 

Somewhere in the rain she decided rules were meant to be built and broken. Like trust and love and friendships and families. Because every thing deserves the opportunity to change and grow. 

So... She broke rule number 1 on stage while singing a beautiful song. Dr. Jefferson (PhD) screamed for her to stop but she didn’t listen and the tears flowed like rivers of emotion down her cheeks. 

Rule number 2 was broken when she grew older and saw the injustices of the world. Marching with hundreds in protest she realized not everything needs to be pacified. 

And one day when she finally fell in love, she broke rule number 3. No matter how much training she’d done she couldn't help but take every thing her lover said and did personal. But it was ok. Because in all her resistance she realized breaking rules was her power. 

Melissa began to fall for her feelings. Her feelings gave life purpose. They weren’t always logical, as feelings seldom are. They were sloppy and embarrassing and rude and so fucking uncomfortable. But they were hers. And they were real. And when she sat alone sipping wine, staring at the moon…They were the only ones still by her side. Ready to break the rules for her because they loved her. 

And she finally loved them back. 

[vvinirl]

toji. f

all you did was call toji to your apartment to fix your sink since the maintenance man always charged too much and you really didn’t wanna spend too much money this week

so why not get free services from your work friend, toji fushiguro

toji didn’t really mind helping you out, he was actually glad you called him instead and definitely not because he gets to see your pretty face, free of charge

he basically rushed over to your apartment in under 10 minutes to fix your sink, and only your sink.. nothing more

“how are you already tired? come on, keep throwing that ass back on my dick pretty girl”

you tried to comply but your thighs were getting sore and you already felt overstimulated after you already came about 3 times, your cream leaving a white ring around the base of toji’s cock

even if this was his first time getting a taste of your pussy, he wanted more, he yearned for more, he need more

you gasped when toji bucks his hips into yours teasingly, his cock hitting that spongy sweet spot inside you

“fuck- toji, p-please” you begged him to fuck you, your hands gripping the sheets as you continue to throw your ass back on his dick, your movements uncoordinated and sloppy

“please what?” he taunt you, that scarred lip of his going up into a smirk, his hands subtly rest on your ass as he felt the water-like movements and the rotation of your ass

“please, fuck meee” your words dragged out as you moaned, your eyes rolling to the back of your head

“oh you can do better than that” he teased again

“toji stop fucking playing with me” you managed to say, giving him a slight warning look

he made a “tch” sound before firmly grabbing your hips and delivering a deep thrust into your cunt. “is that what you wanted?” he thrusted again, this time deeper than the last, “for me to fuck you like this hm?”

his pace begin to speed up, each thrust deeper and rougher than the last, each time he hit a new and different spot within, hitting that perfect spot in you that made your toes curl and your eyes glossy

your mouth hanged open, lips parted as your hands gripped the sheets. this is exactly what you wanted and it felt better than you imagined

who knew toji was this big, i mean it was pretty obvious but the way is girth is stretching out your poor cunt was something you never expected. his hands moved from your hips to your ass, grabbing the soft flesh and squeezing it before delivering a hard slap to it

it bounced back like water and the sight alone made toji wanna drool, you were so perfect, like putty in his hands, easily falling apart from the smallest touch and not to mention the way your pussy is taking him so well

your walls clenched around him, squeezing his dick as he groaned and cussed under his breath. “yeah just like that, pretty pussy taking me so well” he grunted with each thrust he delivered to your pussy

you could feel that certain feeling forming in your lower stomach, making your back arch against him. he could tell you were close and he was too, he wanted nothing more than to fuck you until your pussy was creaming around his length, until you were spent out, until you couldn’t take it anymore, until your pussy was begging for more, more of him

“s-so close- fuck” you stammered, your words barely coming out audible, you tried to move away from him and deep strokes, the pleasure becoming too good to handle- you were beginning to feel overstimulated- this was gonna your 4th time cumming

“nuh huh, you said you wanted it. so take it” toji grabbed you by your hips, pulling you back against his dick, his thrust somehow getting faster than it already was. you didn’t think it could get any faster but what were you expecting from a guy built like him, toji could go for hours nonstop if you let him

you legs begin to gave out under you, your thighs shaking slightly. toji held you up, his pace not stopping, he needed to feel your pussy clench around him again, he needed to feel you cum around his dick again

his pace was becoming sloppy and uncoordinated but his speed and deep thrusts did not stop

you were now drooling against the pillow, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your stomach tightened again, your cunt clenching around him before he felt your cum

“just like that, good girl, good fucking girl” toji praised you as he chase his own release. he replenished one last deep stroke to your poor cunt before shooting ropes of cum into you, painting your walls

he cussed under his breath, his movements not stopping as he continued to slowly move inside you, watching as yours and his cum mixed together drip out of you- some falling onto your sheets and down his length

your body was shaking slightly, your eyes closed as toji watched your fucked out expression, proud of himself that he finally got a taste of you

a/n: sorry this one took a while but it’s finally here!!

[samkerrworshipper]

underneath the surface pt.2

i wrote a part two to a fic? sorry what?

anyways loved will always have a soft spot for this! hope you all enjoy and lmk how you felt about it xo

warnings: soft smut & soft angst viewer discretion advised

Alexia knows she should be the brave face in this whole situation, she’s not the one sitting in a hospital gown on a gurney about to head into surgery, but that doesn’t change the fact that she’s sizzling with anxiety. She doesn’t know why, there isn’t anything particularly terrifying about her circumstances, this is a routine surgery, the chance of complication is extremely low, the chance of death is less than 1%. She knows because she’s google checked five times in the last hour.

She’s trying to hide it, because she knows even though you are putting on a brave face you are secretly terrified. She’s been playing the chivalrous girlfriend. Trying to eliminate any outside stress so that you don’t have to worry about it, which is causing Alexia to stumble into a spiral of worries. She’s worried for you, she’s worried for the future, she’s worried about everything that moves and breathes.

Alexia can normally cope under stress, give her a game winning penalty in a world cup winning game and she’ll treat it with the same amount of composure as she would a penalty in a 20-0 friendly game.

Alexia stressing about you though, is a completely different story. She’s snapped at everyone in the lead up to this week, she’s shut down, she’s in her fortress and until she knows that you’re going to be okay that’s not going to change.

You’re the best thing that happened to her, and even though she has absolutely zero impact on what’s going to happen in the operation room she feels like if she controls all of the outside variables then somehow that’s her contribution. She wants to believe that if she can make everything on the outside right, then it’ll somehow change what’s happening on the inside, Alexia wishes deep down that she could fix it all and that this situation wasn’t happening.

Alexia doesn’t understand why you suffer so much from a disease that has no cure, she doesn’t understand why something so horrible exists and why you are plagued with it.

You don’t seem phased at all, like this is normal routine for you which is making Alexia feel even worse.

You’ve gone about your morning as usual, denying Alexia in every way as she tried to do random acts of service that were actually useless.

You’d quite literally breezed your way through it all and to the hospital without a waiver, no tears, no worries, no stress. It was a long time coming, Alexia appreciated the fact that from what you and google had told her, laparoscopy’s could be life changing for people with endometriosis, it could effectively make your quality of life during your period so much better. But it was still surgery, Alexia remembers when she had her acl surgery, she was a bundle of nerves to the point where her mami had to sit by her bed to stop her from hyperventilating whilst they administered the anaesthesia.

There is no clutching for Alexia’s hand, no desperate admissions of fear, no articulation of any anxieties or stress. You’re practically meditative, sitting on the hospital bed in your gown waiting patiently for the doctors to come and collect you.

Alexia’s walked herself through the surgery hundreds of time, when she can’t sleep at night it’s the first thing that her mind drifts to, there isn’t any set routine for a laparoscopy, it’s based on how much tissue has built up and where it’s built up. They won’t know until they open you up, from the limited amount of information Alexia has been able to extract about your past surgeries she’s figured out that for you in the past, it normally builds up in your pelvis, fallopian tubes, the ligaments around your uterus, your ovaries and the last time you had a laparoscopy they even found small clusters on your bladder, vertebraes and bowel. Hopefully, they’ll just find it around your uterus, but if there are signs that it might have attached to other organs then the surgery can become far more invasive and longer. Your doctor has said that in the best case scenario it could take an hour or two, worst case scenario it might take upwards of 5 hours.

At least two hours of Alexia falling deeper and deeper into her fear that something horribly bad is going to happen.

You’d encouraged her to touch base with her therapist in preparation, a proposal that Alexia had laughed at. She knew that you’d talked to your psychologist a day beforehand in preparation, and told her that if possible you’d like to follow up a few days after your surgery. Alexia had no reason to reach out though, she wasn’t the one who was having her reproductive organs sliced up, it was her job to make sure that you were able to achieve optimal recovery. Your health was Alexia’s biggest concern, she needed you to recover, she needed you back on the pitch with her, she needed you back to normal as soon as possible, so that all of her stress and anxiety about everything that was happening could dissipate.

“Alexia, you’re squeezing.”

Alexia looked down at her hand, it was resting on the outside of you thigh, her hand all fisted up in your skin and the paper thin hospital bedding.

“Sorry bebita.”

Alexia retracted her hand as if had been burnt, she felt horribly guilty about the selfishness of her feelings, it wasn’t right for her to be so twisted up in her own troubles. She wasn’t the one suffering.

She didn’t know how to explain it, she felt like a child with her hand between couch cushions, reaching for something and only grazing for the edge of it. She only grazed the edge of understanding what you were going through, it felt like she was eternally reaching for more, trying to feel it, and yet she didn’t have hands big enough to grab what she wanted. She didn’t have the tools to fix this, she didn’t have the body to understand what you were going through, she was left searching without any chance of retrieving anything.

“Alexia.”

Alexia looked up at you, there was something in your body language, like you were uncomfortable, or on the border of being uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry bebe, is everything alright? Are you comfortable? I’m sure they’ll be in soon to come and get you, I know you must want to get this over with.”

You roll your eyes, and Alexia is aware that it’s your way of saying no, but for some reason it cuts deeper for her, she’s so on edge, she’s been on edge ever since you got your surgery date and it’s all starting to reach a certain point that is pushing Alexia in ways she doesn’t understand.

“I want my girlfriend to relax. I’m going to be fine Alexia, nothing is going to happen.”

Alexia knows that factually you’re correct, but in Alexia’s imaginative brain she can’t wrap her head around the truth.

“I know bebita, I just want to make sure that you are feeling good, si? You’re comfortable? It’s important for your recovery that you feel as good as possible.”

Your roll your eyes again.

“Alexia, everything is perfect, it’s all fine. I’ve recovered from this same surgery two times, I’m prepared. You’ve made sure that when I get home I’ll be comfortable, I’ve walked you through what the next week might looked like. I’m prepared and so are you, everything is going to be fine.”

You’re eerily calm and Alexia can’t tell whether or not it’s a front to hide your secret insecurities or if you seriously are content with what you are going through.

She supposes that when you’ve been living with something so debilitating for such a long time that at some stage you get used to constantly being disappointed with your body and constantly knowing that it doesn’t perform the same way that other people’s do.

“I know bebita.”

Alexia doesn’t even sound like she believes herself.

“Do you? Because it doesn’t seem that way.”

Alexia doesn’t want you worrying about her, she doesn’t want you worrying about anything, she wants you to feel calm.

“Bebe, I’m fine. I know our plan, I was the one who made it.”

It’s a weel made plan. Alexia had spent weeks getting everything in line for this moment. You were both going to take at least a week away from football, two weeks if need be. Alexia would return after the rest period, to training until she felt like she was in a place to be back on the pitch. You’d come in with her on the good days, meet with the team doctors and work through whatever exercise that was allowed whilst also just reintegrating into the team. If it all went to plan you’d make your way back into team training at the six week mark, and if it all went to plan you’d be back playing around the eight week mark. For the first week, you would be on mostly bed rest. Alexia had already meal prepped your comfort foods and easy foods to digest for the first week, and she had no doubt that her teammates would drop some more food off. You would rest, allow yourself some grace to recover from what you were going through. Alexia would make sure of it. She didn’t know what you’re previous recoveries from your surgeries looked like, you hardly shared any details about your past with endometriosis but what she could gauge it musn’t of been a positive experience. She was determined to change that though.

“You’ve got nothing to be scared about Ale, I’m going to be fine. I can’t guarantee how happy I’m going to be once this is over but I’ll be okay. I’ve been here, I’ve done this before, it’s the same as every other time.”

Alexia doesn’t think she’s seen anybody go into surgery so casually, as if this is truly just another surgery for you, as if there is no magnitude behind what is about to occur.

“I know bebita, I know.”

Alexia reaches for your hand, giving it a squeeze before bringing it up to her mouth and pressing a soft kiss to it. Her lips linger for a second, it feels good to know that you are here with her.

“Ms Putellas, it’s time to take her.”

Alexia looked up to the doorway, where one of your nurses was waiting.

She didn’t want to say goodbye to you, she didn’t want the waiting to start.

Alexia stands up, moving her lips from your hand and pressing them to your hairline, breathing in everything about you. The smell of your shampoo that she’d massaged into your hair this morning, the smell of your body soap, the warmth of your skin. It was all you, the you that Alexia knew, the you that Alexia loved so much. She had so many hidden insecurities, but her biggest one was that deep down this surgery was going to somehow change you, and when you came back different to how you currently would, you wouldn’t want her anymore.

There was no explanation, but it didn’t change what Alexia had come to believe.

“Alexia, I love you, I am going to be fine, I will see you in a couple of hours.”

Alexia didn’t know it, but you had your own insecurities. You’d never had anybody, friends, family, partners that had stuck by your side through all of your issues. Who was interested in a person who was completely broken from the inside? Why would Alexia want to stick around for all the troubles. It wasn’t easy looking after a person with a chronic disease, even with her limited amount of time dating you she’d hardly experienced the real struggle. Sure, she’d seen you on your period, but that didn’t compare to a lifetime of struggles.

Alexia had advocated for you, with the team, with the physios, with the coaches, with your doctors. But was she prepared to do that for the rest of her life? Was she prepared to sacrifice her own health at certain times to prioritise yours? It was the ultimate sacrifice, and even though Alexia was genuinely the best person that you’d ever met, yet you wouldn’t blame her for being unable to compensate for you.

“I know bebe, I’ll be waiting for you. I love you so much, it’s all going to be fine.”

Alexia pressed her lips to your forehead one final time, you didn’t push her when she took her time. Alexia’s lips shook against your skin, the quiver silent as she kept any emotion she had at bay. She needed to be strong, she needed to stay strong for you.

“Ms Putellas, one of the nurses will take you to the waiting room, a doctor will come get you when she’s done.”

Alexia finally pulled her lips away, it truly did feel like she was parting with you completely, like she was being pulled away from you completely.

The nurse reached for Alexia’s hand and she shook it free.

You frowned at her, like she was making this so much harder, it made her feel bad, but she needed this, she needed a moment.

“I love you.”

You let up on your frown.

“I love you too.”

Alexia nodded, if there were tears in the corner of her eyes then she had no idea, her focus was on you, only ever you.

Only when she finally felt comforted, did she let the nurse lead her out.

The nurses took you down one end of the hallway, and she dragged herself in the opposite direction.

The waiting room was the same as any other, random stock pictures of scenery from somewhere around the world, chairs that were more uncomfortable then any other surface, bright white lights that were bound to remind Alexia exactly where she was.

It was all uniform, besides her mother sitting in the corner.

Eli looked the same as she always did, her lips sitting in a content smile. There were big lines all over her face from her smiling all the time, it was the reason why everybody gravitated towards her.

“Mami.”

Alexia had known there was something slightly suspicious happening when her mother had been dodging her calls for the last few days. She’d assumed in typical fashion that whilst Alexia was looking after you, Eli would go into overdrive, cooking all the meals, helping Alexia. She hadn’t quite expected this.

Alexia had kept the details about your surgery vague with her family, she didn’t feel like it was her information to give away and also she wanted to keep some privacy. She knew it was going to be a tough period for you and also for herself.

“No, before you say anything, I am staying.”

Alexia smirks, pushing back the words that had already been on the tip of her tongue.

“You don’t need to be here, I could be waiting for while. I can call you when she’s done and you can come to see her.”

Alexia walks towards her mother, and she knows by the way that Eli is looking at her that she’s not going to be able to convince her to leave. Alexia’s stubbornness came straight from her mother.

“I will do no such thing. I shall wait here with you, I’m here to support my daughter.”

Eli nudges Alexia into the seat beside her.

“I’m not the one having surgery Mami, I will be fine waiting on my own.”

Eli slaps Alexia’s arm.

“Estupida. Tan estupida. When I was in hospital with your faher do you know how alone i felt? No, you will not be alone. Maria has gone to go and get coffee, we will all wait here together until she’s done. Comprendida?”

The tears that were in Alexia’s eyes a couple of minutes ago are back, the sick feeling of anxiety that’s been in her stomach all week, especially today suddenly feels less all consuming.

“You don’t have to do this alone, there are people here for both of you. There is support for you.”

Alexia nods, and for the first time in a while she actually feels like she doesn’t have to handle it all, like maybe she can off load some of the responsibilities that are making her chest ache with every breath she takes.

“Thankyou.”

As the doctors had told Alexia, the first week is by far the worst.

Your surgery ends up going for a lot longer then expected. As the doctors had expected, it hadn’t looked good, and it had spread to some of your organs. The positives were though that there hadn’t been any complications and they’d managed to remove all the affected tissue.

It had ended up being a day procedure and the doctors had cleared Alexia to take you home once you’d woken up and were eating and talking.

It had only gone downhill from there.

You were in a lot of pain, and pretty much delirious on the feeling of it and anaesthesia.

Getting you out of her car and into the house had been near impossible, carrying you was too uncomfortable for your incision, and walking was also impossible.

Eventually, with a mixture of limping, Alexia bearing all the weight for you and dragging you as carefully as she could she got you into your bed.

Alexia had set the house up so that when you were home everything would be easy, she hadn’t organised though for you to be completely immobile.

She got you set up underneath the blankets, allowing you to rest whilst she worked on making a light meal for dinner.

When Alexia came back, you were running a fever.

It was a low grade fever, something the doctors had told her to expect but it made her feel uncomfortable.

A fever was the first sign of an infection, and you weren’t awake enough to know what was going on. What if something bad was happening and she didn’t know? What happened if she didn’t catch it early enough? What if she was the reason that something bad happened?

Before Alexia could find the warning signs of slipping into her own brain she was falling deep into a fog of anxiety.

Alexia was the one who was responsible for making sure that you were okay. She thought that she’d worked out every different variable and issue that could arise, she’d promised you that she’d be there for you after your surgery. If she couldn’t help you with this though then was she really capable of dealing with all of it?

You stirred slightly as Alexia removed the thermometer from your lips, your eyes hazily opening up, looking at her with confusion.

“Hugs.”

It’s almost laughable the way that you whine at Alexia, the doctors had said that you would be pretty out of it for the first few days. You’d told Alexia that in the past, the first two or three days after your surgeries tended to consist of mostly sleep and adjusting to the pain of your healing incisions. After they had healed it was all upwards from there.

“How are you feeling? Do you want some more pain relief? Do you need some water? Food? You’re not feeling nauseous or cold?”

You shook your head, your lips morphing into a soft smile as you took in Alexia, all flustered and clearly worked up.

“Want hugs.”

Alexia was guarded, she always was when she was focused on protecting people. You didn’t want guarded Alexia. You wanted relaxed, homey, calm Alexia. The Alexia who would sit on the couch with you after a rough game and eat icecream, the Alexia who would silence her alarm on a morning workout day to stay in bed with you, the Alexia who just wanted to spend all of her time with you. You just wanted the Alexia that would put whatever you wanted above all else.

Alexia looks torn, really torn, like she knows that she should probably be caregiving in some way. She promised you though that she’d let you guide her through your process, that she wouldn’t try to control how you wanted to recover.

“Okay bebita, if that’s what you want.”

Alexia slips to the wardrobe quickly, pulling off her sweats in favor for changing them in for some softer pyjamas. She doesn’t know how long she’s going to be in bed with you but she assumes it’s going to be long enough that she’ll want to be comfortable.

When she makes her way back into the bedroom you’re waiting patiently, like you know that if you’d fallen asleep whilst Alexia was gone she probably would have gone off to tackle some non-existent chore to make herself feel better. Alexia rolls her eyes at how well you know her more unobvious traits and tells.

Alexia, without trying to shift the mattress at all, pushes herself under the covers of your bed. She’d made sure to put down fresh sheets, so it’s comfier and snugglier then it normally is. When you realise that Alexia is going to make no attempt to shift within cuddling distance you pull your arms out from underneath the blankets. Everything is sore and accompanied with a tinge of pain that makes your head hurt. It sucks. You want your teddy bear of a girlfriend to hug it away.

Even though it hurts, you reach for the hem of her sleep shirt, tugging it towards you. There is no power to your movements but there is a general message. Alexia shuffles closer to you, but still far away enough that you definitely can’t use any part of her body as a pillow. You don’t know why it hits you then, you know you’ve got a lot of built up emotions, and that hormonally there is so much going on in your body and the pain medication isn’t making it any better. You don’t know why, but all of a sudden the tears start to fall and you can’t contain the sniffle that you make.

“Bebita, what’s wrong?”

Alexia shoots up, ready to take action in whatever way is needed.

“Do you even love me? What person wouldn’t want to give their girlfriend a hug? I know I just had surgery and I’m digusting and haven’t showered and smell like hospital but can you not just give me a hug, is is that big of a ask?”

Alexia almost immediately recoils, the feeling that sets into her stomach is one of horror. Of course she wants to hug you. Of course she wants to love you, she’s just scared to hurt you.

“Bebita, no. It’s not about any of that, I just don’t want to hurt you bebe. I love you so much bebe, none of the surgery stuff bothers me, not in the slightest. I just don’t want to hurt you.”

At this stage you’re sobbing hysterically and Alexia feels so horrible.

“I know you didn’t want me to get the surgery, I know it was stupid but can you just hug me?”

Alexia genuinely does a double take when you say that, it’s a insecurity that you haven’t expressed to her at all and she doesn’t quite know what to make of it.

“Bebe, of course I wanted you to have the surgery. I can’t tell you whether or not it was a good decision for you, but for me it was a no brainer. Bebe, you were in so much pain, you were struggling so much and for me it was so hard to see you go through that. I don’t know why you’d think that I wouldn’t want you to get the surgery but I can tell you that any decision that makes you feel happier and healthier is always going to be the best decision. If this surgery makes you feel healthier and happier then why would it be stupid?”

You don’t really know what you are thinking or why you’re suddenly thinking all of these things but you just feel so wrong all of a sudden.

“You promise?”

Alexia smiles at you, finally leaning over into your personal space. She bring her hand up to yours and interlocks your pinky with hers.

“I pinky promise, now how about we work out that hugh that you want. I don’t want to hurt you, so what’s going to work best?”

Alexia reaches up to thumb away the tears that are still leaking down your face, you can’t control the random emotions that are flurrying through your body like a tornado.

“The doctor said I should sleep propped up, so I could lie with my back pressed to your front?”

Alexia figures that probably is the best way to approach this whole situation.

It’s not easy getting you to sit up for long enough for Alexia to slip in behind you, but you both reap the reward when you get to relax against each other.

Even though you’re wrapped in Alexia’s hoodie she swears that she can feel your bones relax against hers and even though she knows that you might be in pain she selfishly couldn’t care less. For the first time since she’d walked through the doors of the hospital this morning she finally feels like she can breathe, like she has you, like her inherent need to protect you from everything has finally been fulfilled.

Alexia worries about you more then anything else, when you get injured, when you’re sick, when you’re away from Alexia too long she worries. Her need to protect and care for you has only developed more over the course of your relationship, and when she found out about your endometriosis it doubled. She’s never worried much about anything besides football, and even when she worried about football it was never the same kind of worry, it’s more internalised stress about achieving what she’s set out. For you, everything is irrational, none of it makes any functional sense, it’s ridiculous. And yet she kind of loves it, because she knows that it means it’s all real, that her love for you is so real and true that she worries irrationally because the thought that anything bad could ever happen to you she knows that it would break her in ways she’s never been broken before. She saw it in here mami when here papi died, the way that she stopped being able to function in the absence of him, and god forbid anything similar happened to you Alexia knows she’d be the same.

There’s this thing about recovery, about recovery from a non-injury that makes your skin crawl. You’re not a good person to be around when you’re struggling, it’s the half the reason you’d kept your reproductive issues from Alexia, because it all made you grumpy and tired and borderline and fucking bitch. There was a pattern of shutdowns, emotional, physical, mental, every single time you had a slip or bad period. A surgery though, it was a whole different story.

By week two you felt pretty much back to normal, but as the doctors kept reminding you, you weren’t. That was the problem with internal surgery, eventually the outside of your body returned to feeling normal, but the healing process on the inside took ten times longer. Your scars were healed, even the swelling had started to go down, the pain was minimal but you were still healing.

By week 4 you knew that you were toeing the line of being a bitch and being intolerable. You stomped your way around the halls of the training facilities, annoyed with your lack of progress and the fact that whilst all of your teammates were out on the pitch, you were stuck indoors under the air conditioning doing the exact same pelvic floor exercises that you’d been doing for two weeks. You were now allowed to run on the treadmill, instead of the slow walk that you’d been doing for the past few weeks. It all felt like nothing though, like you were being pulled through hell with no real picture of when you would be allowed to return.

You’d known about all of this before your surgery, known that it was going to be a slow process. What you hadn’t realised though was just how lonely that process was going to be, nobody understood what you were going through. At least with injury there was common ground, everyone on the team had been through some kind of back setting injury that had them in the gym more then on the pitch. They’d never been sidelined for something inside of them though, something that was going to keep coming back and keep hurting them over and over again.

Week 5 was when you broke. There wasn’t any exact reason, maybe it was the way that Mapi continuously kept trying to get you to try some stupid gym challenge when she knew you weren’t allowed to, maybe it was the way that Alexia kept coming home everyday complaining about how the defenders couldn’t get their act together, or maybe it was just the overwhelming pressure that was starting to get to you.

All you know is that after a particularly hard day and Alexia groaning about the sprints they’d run after every drill on the way to the car, it had been the final straw for you.

The minute your seatbelt was fastened there were tears pouring down your face.

When Alexia reached out you smacked her hands away.

“Bebe, talk to me, are you in pain? What hurts?”

If you weren’t busy crying you’d probably slap Alexia for the stupidity she was exhibiting.

“No, no I’m not fucking in pain. I’m sick of you constantly fucking tell me about all of your problems and acting like I wouldn’t die to be doing what you’re fucking doing. I’m sick of everybody thinking that I can do everything that they are doing just because I look fine. I know I look fine, I know I seem fine, hell at this stage I’m pretty sure I am fine. I’m sick of feeling like I’m back to normal and being told that I’m fucking not, that I have to wait another week, that I can’t do things that are so normal to my life.”

Once again when Alexia tries to give you a hug you deny her, wiggling out of her hold as soon as she tries.

“Bebe, no recovery is linear or easy. Just because yours looks different to most peoples doesn’t make it any less valid. You need to be more gracious to yourself, you are going to get back from this. Just because it isn’t a normal process or what a recovery normally looks like for you doesn’t mean that you are any less entitled to your process.”

You know that like everybody else, Alexia doesn’t understand. Sure, she’s injured herself, she’s been through hell and back for her recovery. She doesn’t understand though what you feel, the immense struggle that you are going through.

“No Ale, you don’t fucking understand. There was no point in your recovery where you weren’t able to eat your favourite foods because your body didn’t react well, there was no limiting you from sex, there was no limits on what the unaffected parts of your body could and couldn’t do. There was no limits on how much time you could spend in certain positions or limits on whether or not you could fucking vaccum or carry something heavier then 5 kilos. You don’t understand, I have nothing to look forward to, i’m going fucking crazy watching everybody do things daily with ease that I can’t fucking do. My fucking body hates me, it betrays me everyday. And I can’t change that, I can’t do anything about that.”

Alexia forces herself to take a deep breath, to truly consider what you’re saying. She doesn’t want to invalidate you, not even remotely, she knows how easy it is for people like you to be invalidated because of your disease. She has no idea what you are going through, she can’t even begin to understand, and yet she’s been trying to. She’s been trying to empathise with what you’ve been feeling, she’s tried her hardest to force her feet into your shoes but the reality is that she will never be able to. Nothing is going to make her understand the magnitude of what you are going through, and she thinks that she needs to stop pretending that she does.

“You’re right bebita, you’re right. I’m so sorry, just tell me what you need, whatever you need and I will help you. I will try my hardest to do whatever it is you need. Just take some deep breaths with me, vale? It’s okay, the world isn’t going to end right here and right now, it might feel like it but I promise it won’t. These are fixable problems, we can fix this, maybe not right now which sucks but eventually this will all be fixable.”

This time when Alexia moves to hug you, you don’t flinch away. For the first fucking time in five weeks you be slightly heard, less alone and isolated.

You sob into Alexia’s neck, not caring that it’s making her neck wet and also your face. It feels good to let it all out, like all of the weight, all the words from your psychologist, from the doctors, from the physios, from your teammates, from the coaches, from Ale are slowly becoming background noise. All you want is for it to be background noise, for it to all disappear.

“We’re going to be okay bebe, you’re going to be okay, we’re going to work this out.”

Alexia doesn’t really believe her own words, she doesn’t know if everything is going to be okay, not remotely. She doesn’t know how to help you, after you became self-reliant after week 2 her job as your caregiver was pretty much nonexistent, but that didn’t mean that you didn’t still need help. It was all confusing, a back and forwards dance that didn’t really make any sense really. Whether Alexia had realised it or not though, she’d assumed that you were happy to do it alone, inadvertently. She was giving you your space to recover how you wished, even though it was clear that wasn’t necessarily how you wanted to go about your rehab.

When your cries softened Alexia let go a little bit, so she could look at you.

“How can I help bebita? Tell me what I need to do and I will do everything I can.”

Your eyes are all glassy and full of tears, it makes the hole of guilt in Alexia’s heart even bigger.

“I just want to play.”

Alexia furrows her face, because of all the things she can do, that isn’t one. She can’t clear you to play and she won’t condone you rushing your rehab to get back. She wants you to play, do desperately, but only when you’re at full health.

“I can help you with your rehab, bebita you can be cleared from the six week mark onwards, if you work really hard this week there is a chance you could be back in training next week. But you can’t rush yourself, I know you want to be back on the pitch, I want you back on the pitch. But you need to be ready, and right now you aren’t.”

Alexia thinks it might be a little bit too brutal, but the way you nod at her with real determination tells her that she’s said the right things, she’s supporting what you need whilst also being honest.

“I can’t get you back on the pitch but how about icecream, huh?”

You look like you might start crying again but after a few seconds you roll your eyes in the same way that you would to Alexia on any other day.

“It’s a wednesday, your cheat day is Mondays.”

Alexia shrugs, because cheat days aside, she’d break any and every rule just to see a smile on your face.

“Well last time I checked everyday is a icecream day, especially on wednesdays.”

Alexia’s goofy smile never leaves her face. It’s clear on your face though that you’re still worrying.

“Bebita, you can’t do anything about this. You just keep doing what you’re doing, even though it sucks and we wait until your six week appointment and hopefully you get good news. The doctors said if everything went how it should then next week should be when things start to pick up, you just have to trust the process bebe and it’ll all work out. Until it all works out, we have icecream, no?”

Your barriers break and for the first time since you’d sat down in the car you smiled at Alexia.

“Yes, we do have ice cream.”

Alexia had been forbidden from coming to your six week appointment, you wanted to do it alone, wanted to face whatever news you were given on your own and she respected that.

It didn’t make it any easier.

In the space of around an hour she had reorganised her wardrobe and then reorganised it again because she couldn’t handle not having certain things in certain places. She then moved on to folding all of the laundry, making sure her kit bag had everything that was necessary for the away game coming up and then out of pure desperation she moved on to cleaning all of the dishes.

She’d seen the way that the last week in particular had drained you, how everyday had been even more of a struggle. For the first few weeks, there had been moments of intimacy, moments of love and softness. All Alexia wanted was that back, she wanted to be able to love you and have you reciprocate it without withdrawing. She just wanted some part of you back.

When she heard your keys turning in the door, she tried her hardest to look normal, perched on the kitchen bench like a kid waiting for their parents to come home from work.

She listens to the sound of the door clicking open and shut, then the sound of shoes scuffing off, a bag being dropped and then your footsteps. Alexia’s heart beats faster and faster as she listens to you slowly get closer to her.

She’s rewarded when she finally sees you, and you’re not crying and don’t look like your about to punch something so she thinks there must be some kind of good news on the horizon.

When you spot Alexia clearly waiting for you, you almost laugh, she looks like she’s trying so hard to not ask you what she clearly wants to. She looks almost antsy.

“Hi.”

You keep walking, closer and closer, until your standing in between her legs and looking up at her from her spot sat on the counter.

Before she asks a question, you lean in, you need it. You need to feel Alexia in a way that’s been forbidden for far to long.

The kiss is breath taking, not to rough, not to over bearing. It’s just enough of everything that you feel like you’ve been missing out on. It makes everything better.

Alexia lets you take control, it feels good to not be out of control with everything that’s been happening.

Eventually though, when your hands move from her neck to the hem of her shirt, she pulls away.

“Bebe, I love you, but if you haven’t been cleared we should stop here.”

You roll your eyes and fish your hand into you back pocket, pulling out a folded up slip of paper.

“I think you’ll find that you have a girlfriend who has been cleared to return to all activities except games until I’ve gotten sufficient training hours, I’ve got the green light amor.”

Alexia pulls the paper from your hand, her eyes scanning every single word of the clearance form your doctor, making sure that you’re telling the truth. When she gets to the bottom, her face lights up and before you can say anything she’s standing up and lifting you in her arms.

“Alexia, put me down.”

You giggle as she balances you on her hip as if you are much smaller then you truly are, already walking towards your bedroom.

“I think it’s time to show my beautiful, patient, hardworking girlfriend just how much i love her, unless you disagree?”

You have no objections.

Alexia drops you down on the bedding as softly as possible, a big cheshire grin plastered across her face, like a huntress whose found her prey.

She joins you on the mattress, crawling up your body and kissing different places as she goes.

When she get’s to your head she presses her lips to yours, there isn’t any inhibitions or barriers, she kisses you like a person whose been so deprived of something that they’re craving it, like she’s greedy for you. Alexia moves her lips everywhere, your neck, your collarbones, as low as she can get until your tank top stops her and when she wants more, she gently tugs the top off.

Alexia worships your skin like it’s holy, she kisses and sucks and bites until your sweating and so worked up that you can’t think. When it starts to get to you, she unclips your bra, and that’s a whole other level of worshipping every inch of breast and then your nipples.

It’s glorious, 6 weeks of celibacy had been hell. Technically this would have been okay, but neither of you trusted yourselves to get to this stage and not go further.

So being here, being at this level of pure ecstasy and pleasure was everything you’d wanted and it made all of the tough moments feel so much smaller.

After she was sufficiently happy with her worship of your upperbody, she began her campaign downwards, spending time on your ribcage and stomach before spending extra time showering your incision with soft kisses.

It was something she’d done regularly since the bandages had come off, everytime you stared in the mirror for two long, or complained about how ugly it looked she would spend at least half an hour reminding you just how perfect your body was with certain scars. Those scars were proof that you were healthy and taking care of yourself and for Alexia that mattered far more.

From your incision it was down to the band of your leggings, which after a quick glance up to check you were still happy, she slowly peeled off.

“Alexia, enough teasing.”

Alexia pressed open mouthed kisses all along the outline of your panties.

“I’ve been away from your body for so long bebita, I’m just reintroducing myself.”

You rolled your eyes at the blonde, and were about to say something bratty but were stopped when she moved her open mouth a bit further down, just above your mound.

Instead of a bratty retort Alexia’s ears were met with the glorious sounds of little moans slipping from your lips as she teased you.

When you started bucking up into her, Alexia made the executive decision to move things ahead a bit quicker then she intended, after all she had plenty of time to do this, over and over again.

“You’ll tell me if anything hurts, si? If anything feels wrong say something, we’ll just stick to my mouth for now and work our way back up.”

You nodded at her, even when you felt good sex could be painful, it was a weird back and forth of you feeling good and then all of a sudden feeling bad. All you craved right now though was sweet release.

“Want to taste you bebita, god I missed tasting you.”

You swear your legs go numb and you almost orgasm just from her words.

“It might be quick, it’s been a long time Ale and I’m sensitive.”

Alexia smiled at you, kind and genuine like she had all of the time in the world.

“Just feel it however you need to, if it’s fast then it’s fast, whatever you feel just take it.”

You nod at your girlfriend before relaxing against the pillows on your bed, allowing Alexia to pull one of your knees above her shoulder.

The feeling of her mouth on you is truly the best feeling in the world, you don’t care how loud you are because the fulfillment you are getting has been so hard worked for that you can’t help but just enjoy it.

Alexia licks and sucks in all of your most sensitive places, places that have been untouched for so long that you’d almost forgotten just how good it could feel. When she pulls your clit into her mouth you see stars and you know that you aren’t going to last long at all, you gather Alexia can tell from the way that your octave heightens.

“Ale-Ale I’m going to cum.”

You can feel Alexia smirk against you.

Even though she knows that she’s able to satisfy you, there is nothing better then actually doing it.

“Go ahead bebe, I’m right here, you’ve been so good and patient. You deserve it, if you feel it just let go.”

You nod your head, biting down on your lip as you feel yourself getting closer to the edge, there is no hesitation from your edge, when she grazes her teeth against your clit you are well and truly gone.

Normally, you’d last more then one round, or you’d reciprocate at the least but before you can even try Alexia has you bundled up in her arms, pressing kisses all over your face.

You squeal and flinch but she doesn’t stop, not until your face is all red and your both relaxed against your pillows.

“You know how proud I am of you? You’ve been so good this whole process bebita, so perfect, so hardworking, so determined. You’ve pushed through it all, and you’re going to keep doing ti because your the toughest person I know, truly. I love you so much amor.”

You know that for the rest of your life, Alexia will take care of you, like nobody else. Underneath the surface she cares for you more than anybody else ever had and ever will.

[rensylph]

>>> 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐒

< yandere zhongli x reader ( MAFIA AU ) >

You and two of your friends decided to go to a club to party and the start of your semester in the nation, teyvat. You got drunk and woke up naked in a grand mansion and a man holding your waist and nuzzling against your chest. You thought this would be a normal one night stand and will not be in contact with you but turns out the man has other plans

Warning : implied sexual intimacy, age gap, drinking

Imagine waking up in a hotel suite bigger than your apartment with someone nuzzling close to you, your clothes are scattered around the bedroom, an aching sting in your body lowest parts, a box of empty condoms And the worst hung over in your life.

When you were about to gather your clothes and leave before the person woke up, a hand grabbed your wrist preventing you.

The man has beautiful long locks of brown hair, ember eyes, handsome face features, and a well built body with tattoos of a dragon in his back and arms. Dang you struck gold.

He introduced himself as zhongli, he asked for you to stay a little longer and he will order room service

It was awkward to be honest, you did ask some questions about him but he always gives out a vague answer. As if he's trying not to reveal too much, you didn't pry about it though since he is just a one night stand plus you're in a foreign country there's a high chance you're not gonna see him anymore in the future.

He told his chauffeur to pick you up and drive you home. He seems very well known in the hotel staff every time they pass him they would greet him, it felt awkward of course.

His driver arrives and introduces himself as xiao and he opens the door to the car for you, before getting in he grab your wrist and put a note of his number saying that he had fun and wish to experience it more than one time and then he said he gotta go due to work and you get in the car.

The car ride was quiet and xiao seems to have no intention of making conversation it was just dead silent

And when you arrive at your dorm, your best friend lumine rush towards you and tackle you asking where you were, she said that when she was in the bathroom you disappeared and was entering a limo with a fine gentleman.

You didn't think much of it, since it's college and you have to focus on it. Recently many gifts and flowers were sent from mr zhongli. He even gave you an ember necklace that cost more than tuition. It was 4 million mora meanwhile your tuition cost 1 million mora.

You ask mr zhongli to please stop sending since it causes so much and you don't want to trouble but he just shrugged it off the amount saying it was a little amount and just accepted it.

I mean you do text him often talking about you guys days and meet from time to time but it's Always in fancy restaurants that always cause a fortune to have a table and reservation.

During one of these meetings he pulled out a beautiful ring with a large jade in the front with diamond encrusted around the metal, with two dragons engraving inside the metal.

He proposed saying after you graduated from college, you and him should get married. He will offer everything to you, you don't need to live in that small cramped dorm room you can live in one of his penthouses in the city, you will have xiao drive you and your friends anywhere, instead of eating cup noodles everyday and worried about money, he will have private chefs cook your favorite food as well giving you an allowance every week for you to spend, you don't need to worry about anything just said yes and he will take care of your needs.

It all moves too fast it's been only 6 months and he already wants to get married. You rejected saying that it moves too fast and say you don't see yourself being with him in the future. You said you need space and leave not before paying for your food and tipping the waitress and Mr zhongli just sit their stunt.

For the past few days after the accident you and him haven't talk in a week thinking, you're giving him space after the rejection.

Until when you were alone in the campus garden some one hugged you from behind and whispered in your ear

"if you don't follow me or obey my orders, I will kill everyone on this campus, this is your last chance to stop a massacre of your peers, this is an order "Marry me"

[changetyre]

Just relax || Oscar Piastri x Driver!Reader Ⓦ

SUMMARY: After a particularly challenging weekend Oscar helps you wind down.

WARNINGS: **18+**, soft smut, unprotected sex, James Vowels?

A/N: Just an idea I had but not sure I like it ;/

Everything that could go wrong went wrong. The weekend had started off bad, the upgrade that had been added to your car had failed massively.

You couldn’t control the car, your team threw guesses at you of how to fix it while on track, and you’d already received a handful of warnings, and fines, for impeding on track, failing to slow, but also driving necessarily slow, etc.

It was a weekend of nightmares and definitely a weekend to forget. Truly you should've seen it coming, you shouldn't have been surprised that on Sunday barely managed to push through a full lap before retiring the car.

"Our deepest apologies y/n we'll fix it for next weekend." You heard James' voice over the radio.

"I mean it can't get worse than this." Your reply was sharp, but with all the built-up frustration that was tame.

Getting out of the car you couldn't be bothered to stay back and watch the rest of the race or debrief, you simply completed your media duties.

You tiredly drove back to the hotel and ordered some room service before stripping completely leaving you in nothing but panties and Oscar's hoodie covering your top half.

You enjoyed a big juicy burger you very much felt you deserved before laying in bed and having a nap.

Oscar wasn't surprised to find out you'd decided to head back to the hotel, only imagining how frustrated you must've felt. He didn't care that he'd just won another GP and you hadn't watched he simply wanted to get back to you, make you sure you were ok.

Getting back to the hotel he walked into your shared room to be happily greeted by your sleep body on the bed. You were wearing his hoodie and your leg was bent up to the side while you slept on your stomach giving him the perfect view of your almost bare ass and covered slit.

He stood and stared for a bit, enjoying the site. Finally, he dropped everything before walking over to you.

The sudden dip in the bed stirred you awake, you felt Oscar slip his hand under the hoodie rubbing your back soothingly before he leaned over to place a kiss on your cheek.

"Oz, how did you do?" You asked, sleep present in your voice.

"Doesn't matter. How are you feeling?" He asked you, his hand now coming down to lightly pat at your butt.

"Hmm, fed up." You pouted and Oscar was quick to lean down and kiss the pout away. The kiss was sweet and gentle but the moment was far from innocent as Oscar's hand began to slide down your ass to your clothed pussy.

"Hmm Osc." You sighed your hips beginning to chase after his fingers. Oscar teased you letting his thumb glide up and down your clothed slit as the rest of his hand cupped you.

"Shh baby." He kissed you again.

He pulled your panties down just enough so they were out of the way before his thumb was back on your slit. Slowly move up and down spreading your wetness.

Your hips moved up and down with his fingers before stilling when his thumb pushed past your folds and into your whole.

"Humm." You gasped at the feeling, breaking the seal of your kiss momentarily. You tried to sit up only to be stopped by Oscar.

"Just relax my sweet, enjoy it." He encouraged you.

Oscar moved down between your legs, he pulled your hips up momentarily sliding in a pillow to arch your back slightly giving him the perfect access.

"Oz please-" You begged your boyfriend for more.

He didn't need to be told twice and not a second later your eyes were rolling back with pleasure as Oscar's tongue moved up and down your pussy.

You weren't going to last too long. Oscar's tongue circled your clit with the perfect speed as he let his thumb thrust in and out of your hole.

His mouth dripped with your sweet juices as you struggled to keep your hips still with all of the pleasure.

"Hmm, Osc I'm gonna cum." Oscar knew it already by the way he could see your ass hole begin to twitch in pleasure, he himself could've cum right then at the sight alone.

Oscar let his tongue do the rest of the work as he let his hands slide under your (his) hoodie once again cupping your breasts, the combination of feelings was enough to have you trembling in pleasure as you came on his tongue.

Oscar kept sucking through your orgasms, enjoying the sweetness you produced. After your moans and trembling began to settle as you came down from your high Oscar gave your pussy a kiss as well as your ass cheek before hovering over you.

"Can I fuck you sweetheart?" The way his hand held your hip so tightly was enough to turn you on again.

"Yeh...yes Ozzie please." You replied breathless from your previous orgasm.

You felt Oscar's fingers slide through your slit once more making you shiver at the sensitivity before you felt his tip at your entrance.

Oscar loved the way your hips moved, the curve of your back as you sunk down on him. He thought he'd have control over the pace but your hips moved to their own accord and he wasn't going to complain.

He happily watched and enjoyed as your hips began bouncing up and down on his dick, your head buried into the pillow as you attempted to muffle your moans while you chased your second orgasm.

"Fuck that's it baby." Oscar smaked your ass earning a high pitched moan from you.

"Hmm Oz please, please cum inside me." You begged him and he would happily oblige.

It didn't take much longer as your already sensitive insides began to twitch, Oscar felt your walls close around him as you came again, you lost control of the pace and Oscar was quick to take your hips once more to give you the last few thrusts before filling you up.

"Sh*t-" Oscar grunted as he watched his dick pulse inside you, his cum trying to burst out through the sides.

"Hmm so good-" You moaned into the pillow as Oscar pulled out slowly watching his cum leak out of you.

This should be a good enough start to a memory that would help you forget about the weekend.

[pastorpresent]

When the dust settled of what Wade dubbed their 'super awesome Madonna world saving sacrifice', (don't fucking ask, god knows Logan doesn't) the TVA had offered to hire their services to round up variants that incorrectly stumbled into their universe. With a fucking paycheck.

Logan had been trying (and failing) to find work for a few weeks by that point. It was sort of difficult when he had no tangible work history in this universe, with no references that could actually be called. Or a social security number. Or a bank account. Or any form of ID, really.

Wade had already quickly agreed on both their behalfs, and Logan got the feeling he just needed a valid excuse to put the suit on now and again between his monotonous shifts at the dealership.

The only catch was that they had to undergo a physical and mental health assessment before hand.

He'd passes the physical with flying colours. The mental one... not so much. They'd still 'hired' him, but when he was given a folder with information regarding each fucking problem he had mentally, they'd heavy implied he needed to work on it to keep his job.

His plan had been to chuck it in the trash, or burn the fucker, but it'd slipped his mind to do either by the time they'd gotten home because Wade started trying to cook pasta for dinner and almost set the entire place on fire, somehow.

He left it on the side and Wade, being the nosy fucker he was, had of course read it.

There was a lot of shit Logan expected to find in there - depression, ptsd, alcoholism... stuff he didn't exactly need some fancy fucking doctor to tell him he had. A six year old could probably glance his way and identify that he needed antidepressants.

The one that he'd thought was odd, and the one Wade seemed to latch onto, was 'touch deprivation'.

The thing was, Wade was a shithead. He practically made it his goal whenever he walked into a room to be the most annoying person in that room. Usually successfully.

But he was also... good. He was a good person, despite what people might say to him. He wanted to help him, which was... sweet, he supposed.

A lot of the stuff in there was a bit tricky to 'fix', probably requiring some sort of medication or therapy (Logan point blank refused both) but a couple of things, Wade seemed hellbent on helping him with.

There was never any liquor in their apartment, for starters. Whenever Logan would buy any, it would go mysteriously missing the following day. Al didn't even know it had been there, and Wade was a shit liar with his innocent little shrug when Logan would ask.

Ar first it pissed him off but, well, Wade was just trying to help, and he was - helping, that is. Logan was actually sober more than he was drunk these days - which hasn't happened in at least a decade.

The 'touch deprivation' was another Wade seemed hell bent on helping with.

The merc was already tactile with his friends. Logan had seen him drape an arm over their shoulder, side hug them as they walked somewhere, hug them goodbye.

It seemed he dialled it up to a thousand with him, though.

If they both happened to be in the kitchen, Wade was brushing up against him every few seconds, murmuring apologies as he all but pressed against him under the guise of trying to move somewhere or reach something.

When they were out, Wade would let their arms and hands brush up against each other. If Logan was pushing the cart in the store, Wade would 'accidently' rest his hand over his on the handle bar.

It was little stuff, things that somebody on the outside of them would probably not even notice, until one night on the couch.

They'd been running around for the TVA all day, and Logan was irritable and exhausted. He felt about ready to claw his own skin off out of general frustration, built up from a day of shitty, all over the place missions.

They'd both showered and were sat watching gossip girl, but he just couldn't settle. He was switching position every few seconds, growling under his breath every time his discomfort returned, and he must've been annoying the fuck out of Wade, he thought.

After maybe an hour - and Logan wasn't going to cry, but he damn sure felt like it, Wade sighed next to him.

Logan immediately found himself growing defensive, ready to argue that it wasn't his fucking fault his skin felt all tingly and wrong, and that the couch was too soft, or that there was a dumb ache in his chest that he didn't understand.

Wade didn't start arguing though. Instead, he lifted an arm in invitation.

Logan stared at him like he'd lost his fucking mind. How many hits to the head had he taken today? Could his regenerative abilities repair concussion or should Logan be taking him to a fucking hospital?

"Come on, peanut. Let me help," Wade said, which only confused Logan more. He didn't even know what was wrong- so how did Wade reckon he could fix it?

"I'm fine," he gritted out with a glare, trying to keep still to prove his point but fuck, his skin felt painful and tight.

"Alright," Wade held his hands up in surrender before letting them drop, turning back to the TV.

Logan watched him for a few seconds, then scoffed loudly, moving to lay a bit more on the arm rest.

It felt like it was digging into his ribs. He scratched his arm, barely resisting the urge to unsheathe his claws. He adjusted to lie back into the cushions. He sunk in too much, and the soft cushions felt like sandpaper against his on-fire skin.

Something dangerously close to a whimper escaped his lips, and he had to blink back a dampness building in his vision. Fuck, what the hell was wrong with him?

"Lo," he thought Wade had went back to focusing on the show, but apparently he'd been wrong, because the merc was staring at him with soft, concerned eyes, and Logan wanted to scream.

"What?" Logan snipped, but it was missing any of the intended edge.

"Let me try and help. No one else is here, it's just us - and if you don't like it, you can just sit back up," Wade lifted an arm again, an invitation for Logan to curl up against him and... it pissed him off how nice that sounded.

He hesitated for a few moments longer. Too long, really, and he expected Wade to rescind the offer entirely out of impatience.

He didn't. He just adjusted himself to be more sprawled back against the couch cushions, parting his legs a little and keeping his arm raised.

Logan made a defeated noise in the back of his throat, crawling closer. He hovered awkwardly between Wade's legs, unsure how to proceed, and Wade just gently pushed on his shoulders to get him to lie down, his head and upper torso covering Wade's chest and lower body.

He worried he'd be too heavy for Wade, but the younger man didn't seem bothered whatsoever. Perks of him being built pretty indestructible, probably.

"Good boy," he praised quietly, running his hand through Logan's hair. Essentially petting him, really, and Logan couldn't explain it but it's like everything in his head and everything with his body quietened down. He could breathe again, and he found himself going boneless against the younger man.

He wrapped his arms around Wade's torso, nuzzling into his stomach with a content sound, his eyes slipping shut as Wade continued to play with his hair, stroke over his back, brush fingers over his neck, calming the burn of his skin wherever they went.

It became a regular occurrence after that. Every night when they settled down to watch TV, Wade would wordlessly lift an arm, and Logan would wordlessly crawl over to lie against him. Sometimes they reversed it, because Logan discovered that having Wade lying atop of him felt incredibly grounding. Usually though, he'd be the one pressed up against the merc, tangled around him like some sort of extra clingy and extra heavy octopus. Wade would always 'pet' him, mumbling occasional praise as he ran gentle fingers over his body, scratching his scalp or dragging blunt nails over his back and arms.

Logan didn't realise how desperately he needed the touch until it was gone.

They'd been arguing all day. It was all stupid shit, really - moreso driven by the fact they hadn't had a mission in a while. Wade grew antsy if he'd been out of commission too long, and if he had to work so many back to back shifts at the dealership. And Logan grew irritable being stuck in the tiny apartment with no real purpose all day.

He'd went to the store and bought himself a bottle of whiskey to occupy his mind, to stop the thoughts of his old found family dead on the ground from a fight he could've aided in leaking into his brain.

Wade, as usual, had poured it down the drain. Something that, ordinarily, Logan would've been pissed about but let drop fairly quickly- because despite what others may think of him, his sort of almost sobriety did matter to him. It mattered to Wade too, which is why Logan never usually got all that mad at him for pouring perfectly good alcohol down the drain.

Maybe it was because of the irritation already brewing within them both, or maybe it was because Logan had really been relying on loosing himself in that bottle, but the argument quickly spiralled out of hand.

"You can't just pour out my shit, Wade!" Logan yelled, gesturing to the now empty bottle.

"Yeah, I'm being totally unreasonable. Next time I'll let you drink yourself into a stupor, pinky fucking promise!" Wade yelled back.

"You had no fucking right!"

"Do you think I want to, huh?! You think I just love having to control your alcohol intake like your some sixteen year old girl who discovered fucking smirnoff for the first time?!"

"Then fucking don't! I don't need you to do anything for me! I managed by myself for two hundred fucking years, I don't fucking need you, and I certainly don't fucking want you!" Logan shouted, probably loud enough that they'd get complaints from the neighbours later.

The ensuing silence felt even louder.

He regretted it immediately. He didn't mean it, and he knew that as soon as he'd said it. Because yeah, he might be able to survive by himself- but that's all it ever was. Fucking survival.

Wade showed him how to live.

He was still too angry to take any of it back, though. To admit he'd crossed a line.

"Fine. Do whatever the fuck you want, Logan," and Wade left, their bedroom door slamming echoing throughout the whole apartment.

They avoided each other for days. Even when they were together, there was silence. Wade didn't crack any of his usual jokes. They ate in silence. They stopped waking up tangled up in one another, and Wade no longer opened an arm in invitation when they were sharing the couch alone. No hand over hand on the cart, or arms brushing in the street, none of it.

Logan didn't give a shit, obviously. He bought ridiculous amounts of alcohol and drank until he passed out on their kitchen floor, waking up a few hours later cover in his own vomit and Mary Puppins peering at him curiously. Even the fucking dog was judging him.

It was the week mark, and Logan actually hadn't had a drink that day. Only because he had ran dry on money to buy any, and he'd considered stealing some but thought it wouldn't be worth losing his job with the TVA. He did maybe try drinking some of Al's nail polish remover, but he was halfway into the bottle when he realised she used the type that was fucking alcohol free.

Not his proudest moment.

His body already felt weary from the slight pulls of withdrawal when he sat on his end of the couch, purposefully not glancing Wade's way. It was very much like how he'd felt when he stopped drinking so much in this universe. The tiredness that ate down to his bones, the cravings niggling his brain constantly.

He already didn't feel great - but then the itching started, and it got intense fast.

His efforts to keep still were futile. It was so much worse than the first time around, and worse still because he knew what was missing, and it was his own fault he didn't have it anymore.

What the fuck was he supposed to say? 'Hey I know I said I didn't need you and to stop treating me like a child, but if you don't cuddle me right now I might fucking explode'.

No. He couldn't do that.

Everything hurt. He couldn't draw a breath in properly, and even the feeling of his clothes against his skin felt fucking wrong. Like it was too... light.

The final straw was when one of those tears welling in his eyes actually escaped, rolling down his cheek. He wiped at it harshly, and got up without another word, heading straight for their bedroom.

He couldn't let Wade see him like this. He was fucking pathetic.

He stripped down to his boxers, needing the stupid fabric to stop touching him, and got onto their bed. The covers felt scratchy, and he kicked them away with a growl. In the process of his aggressive attempts to find a comfortable position, he got a whiff of a familiar scent.

Wades. Wade's pillow smelt exactly like him.

It was the first time since the itching feeling started that he felt some sembelence of calm. His skin still burnt, but he could sort of zone it out for a moment.

He tried to turn away. To ignore it, because it was fucking stupid, but he didn't last long before he was grabbing the pillow and pulling it towards him, pressing his face into it and inhaling deeply.

He didn't remember when he started crying, but the pillow was soon wet with tears. He was so fucking stupid. Utterly fucking ridiculous - a grown ass man crying into a pillow because, what? He didn't have someone playing with his fucking hair?

He was so, so beyond furious at himself. At how ridiculous he was, and at how massively he'd managed to mess everything up.

Wade was good. He was bad. He should've known from the get go that he'd fuck it all up.

"Jesus, Logan," the soft gasp startled him from his thoughts abruptly, and he panicked. He sat up, shoving the pillow aside despite the fact Wade had seen exactly what he was doing.

Maybe he'd get lucky and one of those stupid ring portals would appear beneath him and send him elsewhere. Anywhere, really- he didn't care, it would be better than this.

"What?"

The biting tone wasn't all that effective when he had to scrub at his eyes to get rid of the tears.

It didn't even work anyway. They wouldn't fucking stop now that he'd let them start, and the fact Wade had caught him sitting there breathing in dredges of his scent while fucking crying - maybe part of it was just the utter humiliation of it all.

"Oh, Lo. It's alright," Wade murmured, and then he was shutting the door and crossing the room, climbing onto the bed.

He reached out, but seemed to hesitate, his arm dropping, "can I touch you?"

Logan only cried harder, his body practically vibrating, as if it was attempting to force him to move closer even unconsciously. He gave a jerky nod, "please."

Wade was on him in an instant, pulling him in so tight that to anyone without super strength and regenerating abilities, it would probably hurt.

Logan didn't care. He needed more. The fire was tamed, but it was still there, the embers tickling his body and threatening to overtake him again.

His hands tugged at the hem of Wade's shirt, seeking permission. He needed the stupid itchy fabric gone. The press of it was too soft and gentle. He needed skin. Needed something solid. Needed Wade, now.

"Shirt off?" Wade clarified, and Logan nodded where his head was tucked into the crook of his neck.

He hadn't accounted for the fact that they'd have to break their embrace to do it.

Wade tried to pull back, but Logan gasped, digging his nails in and keeping himself plastered to Wade's front.

"I'm not going anywhere, peanut. I'm just taking my clothes off, alright? I'm not leaving you, I swear," Wade put both hands on the side of his face, lifting it so he could look into his eyes as he spoke, the pad of his thumb wiping away his tears.

Logan reluctantly let go, shivering violently when everything hit him again.

Wade made quick work of stripping off his shirt and sweatpants, leaving him in his briefs. He lay down, and opened his arm.

Logan could've started crying again in relief. He all but dove at the younger man, burying his face away in his chest, wrapping his arms tight around him. Wade held him tightly, pulling him in enough so their bodies were pressed together solidly.

He lifted a hand and started stroking his hair, shushing him softly and rocking their bodies a little.

"I'm sorry. 'M so sorry, I didn't mean any of it," and ordinarily he might very been reluctant to say it, never being all that good at swallowing down his perceived pride, but it felt too important not to say.

Because despite everything, Wade had came in here to check on him. He could've just continued to watch TV. He could've so easily made fun of him for what he'd walked into, mocking how fucking stupid he was, and walked straight back out. He could've and should've done all of that, but he didn't. Because he was Wade, and he was good, and Logan would never fully understand what positivity he put out into the world to earn him.

"I know, me neither. Just calm down, Lo. It's all good now, I've got you," Wade assured, squeezing tighter, and Logan made a small satisfied sound, nosing at Wade's chest and then his neck, breathing in the familiar scent of his shampoo and body wash.

The itching had ceased, but he still felt like he needed more, like it wasn't enough until he sliced Wade open and crawled inside of him, curled up contently next to his beating heart, burrowed beneathe his ribs.

He didn't verbalise it, but Wade seemed to understand, as usual.

"On your back, baby," he directed, and Logan did so without complaint.

Wade moved with him, lying on top of him completely, tangling their legs together, a solid weight pressing him into the mattress, and ironically enough he finally felt like he could breathe again.

"Good boy. You're so good, peanut," Wade hummed, running fingers over his shoulders. Logan disagreed, but he was too out of it to really argue. He felt like he was floating on a cloud, hovering out of his body.

He didn't realise he was biting until Wade let out a soft sound above him, and the metallic taste filled his mouth.

"Fuck, sorry I... I didn't realise," he tried to move away, eyes wide, but Wade shushed him again, his expression something fond.

"Does it help?" Wade asked simply, and Logan swallowed. It did. It was... it was like Wade felt closer to him, somehow.

"Mhm, but don't wanna hurt you," he felt almost drunk, his words slurring a little as he watched the small wound on Wade's shoulder close up.

"I'll heal, angel. Have at it," Wade tilted his head in invitation, and Logan nosed at his neck for a moment, still not entirely sure, before sticking out the tip of his tongue and licking experimentally. He moaned softly at the taste of Wade on his taste buds, pressing his nose against his adams apple simultaneously to breathe him in. He let his teeth sink in lightly, nibbling at the sensitive area.

Wade groaned atop of him, and Logan went to pull away, but the merc held him there by the back of his head, "keep going. Please, Lo," and he sounded breathless and needy, and it made Logan growl with animalistic possessiveness, biting down a bit harder, blood running to the surface, which he quickly lapped up.

He couldn't really tell who connected lips first, he was fairly certain it was him, but it didn't really matter ultimately. They were high off one another, Wade grinding down while Logan rutted up, both of them rock solid against each other.

Logan bit at his lip, drawing blood before licking it away filthily, dragging his nails all over every surface of Wade he could reach. He needed him. He needed him so fucking badly. He wanted to worship every square inch of him then crawl beneathe his skin and make a home there.

He reached between them, wrapping a hand around Wade's length, but the merc caught his wrist, using the other hand to grip Logan's jaw and direct their eyes to meet.

"Logan," he knew vaguely that Wade wanted him to listen, but he was too busy whining beneathe him, pushing his hips up trying to chase the friction that every cell in his body was fucking screaming for. He didn't want to stop, and he didn't get why Wade was making him.

"Logan. Hey, eyes on me, peanut," Wade ordered firmly, and Logan finally reluctantly ceased his movements, blinking Wade's face into his focus.

"How are you feeling?"

And Logan huffed, glaring a little, because did Wade really stop what they were doing just to ask him that? Seriously?

"I'm fine," he replied shortly, trying to go for Wade's mouth again, but found himself held down by a hand against his bare chest.

"I'm going to need a bit more than that before we go any further, peanut. Especially with how upset you were just twenty minutes ago," Wade was stroking a hand through his hair again, and the calmness that filled his body from the touch was enough to get him to settle down just a little, sinking into the bed and giving up his valiant mission of jerking off against Wade's solid form.

"I just need to know you're okay, and I need to know you're doing this because you want it, not just because you feel like you need it."

"I want it. I want it a lot," he said after a few seconds, looking up at Wade. It was the most vulnerable he'd felt in forever, and all he could do was hope that Wade took that and handled it carefully.

Wade smiled, kissing Logan firmly. Logan gasped into it, letting his mouth open wider, inviting Wade in to explore as he pleased.

Wade pulled away suddenly, and Logan very almost ripped his head off of his shoulders in order to keep him close.

"Easy, boy. I'm just trying to sort you out," Wade explained with fingers teasing the waistband of his boxers.

It was ridiculous, but he wasn't certain he could handle the younger man's body weight leaving him. That press, being able to feel every inch of Wade against him, it was the only thing keeping him tethered in reality. He couldn't handle his skin setting alight again. Especially not when he had went a whole week without Wade's touch.

"Baby," and something about Wade calling him that made him want to crumble. Want to get onto his knees and suck him off and worship him like he deserved, because he must be a God- that's the only explanation as to how he can breathe a single word and make Logan unravel. Because he'd never been that. He'd never been anyone's 'baby', because no one ever bothered to be tender with him before. He was The Wolverine. He was supposed to be rough, and rugged, and maybe 'handsome', but never 'pretty'. Never 'baby'.

And yet everytime it rolled off of Wade's tongue it was so genuine, so sweet and caring, and it was almost like a permission slip for Logan to let the gruff exterior drop just for a minute, and be somebody's 'baby'. Be Wade's 'baby'.

"You don't want me to leave, peanut? You want me to stay on top of you?" Wade asked, because he was genuinely bothered by the idea of Logan not being one million percent happy with this experience.

Logan found his mouth and kissed him again. This one was gentle. So, so gentle. No blood or biting or back and forth - just a barely there press of lips. A thank you, sealed away in a kiss.

"Please," he answered quietly, speaking it into Wade's parted mouth, "I just... I need to know you're here, I think. I need to..." he trailed off, unsure how to finish.

How could he verbalise that he needed to feel him so completely, that he needed Wade everywhere all over him, all at once? How could he say that without scaring him away entirely?

Maybe that would be for the best, in all honesty. He couldn't be so damn reliant - not when Wade had a fucking life to live. A future to build. Why should he put that on hold just because Logan crash landed into his reality?

He should be going on dates with Vanessa right now, trying to fix things. Or hanging out with his actual friends. He should be doing a lot of things- but trying to fix something in Logan that had been irreparably smashed to pieces years ago was not one of them.

"I need- we need to stop," he spoke, even as every cell in his body was screaming no, fuck no.

Wade frowned, the hand that had been tracing over his arms pausing.

"What?"

"I can't. I can't do it. I can't."

He couldn't drag Wade down into the fucking abyss. He couldn't force him to live out his eternity like this.

"Okay, that's okay peanut. You want me to get off of you?" Wade offered, and Logan nodded.

It killed him, but he nodded.

Wade lifted up, manoeuvring onto the edge of the bed.

Logan wanted to throw up, that cold and empty feeling returning to his gut, spreading through all of his limbs like poison. 'This is good, Wade is good, you are bad' was like a mantra in his head, growing louder and louder until all Logan could hear was the rapid thumping of his own heart and those words, screamed, being etched across his organs like a warning.

Maybe the repeated frying of his brain was finally catching up to him.

"Logan, what's wrong?"

Logan wanted to tear his own fucking skin off.

"Did- was it too much? Did I go too far? I'm sorry, I just thought it's what you wanted," Wade was apologising, he was fucking apologising, and Logan was barely holding it the fuck together, his chest tightening.

"No. No, it's... I need to be alone," he choked on the last word, as if his body was physically fighting him from saying it.

Wade was looking at him with a small frown, reaching out for his hand resting on the mattress which Logan quickly moved away.

He'd never forget the look of hurt etched onto the others face. He might very well of tried to hide it, but he caught the flash of upset that filled Wade's features so intensely for just a moment.

"Of course. Yeah, sorry. I'll just," Wade gestured vaguely to the bedroom door before all but racing out of the room, the door clicking shut behind him.

Logan sighed shakily, curling up on himself and trying in vain to stop the tears coming.

Part 2 up now

[amaranthineghost]

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🥥 ꒱ in the tumbleweeds ( lando norris. )

cowboy!lando norris x city girl!reader

your car breaks down in the middle of nowhere. just when you begin to lose hope, a big truck pulls up in front of you and out hops two country boys to help you get your car up and running again

authors note: in honor of me going to the austin grand prix in october, here's cowboy lando (ft. cowboy oscar)

“NO, NO, NO,” YOU HAD WHINED as your car had slowed to stop. the tiny dial on the speedometer had slowed bounced its way down, and down, and down until it had hit zero. now here you were, in your mysteriously broken down car on the side of the road! not to mention, you were in the countryside, the middle of nowhere.

all you could do was groan as you twisted the keys out of ignition, after you had smacked the horn with your palm in frustration. you could already feel the heat seeping through the window as the air conditioning had given out—as well as the entire car. 

a frown etched itself on your face, sighing as you used the parking brake—just in case as you would’ve just ended it if your car had begun rolling off after getting out to check. a huffed groan fell from your lips as you struggled with the stubborn brake, which hadn’t been used since you’d gotten the car. 

swiping a hand across your forehead at the strain, you opened the driver’s side door to step out—not before checking the road to see that the way was clear of upcoming cars. 

as soon as the door had cracked open, you could feel the blistering country heat beating down on your body. a soft whimper fell from your lips as the car door slammed shut behind you, raising an arm to cover the sun rays that hindered your sight.

you felt helpless as you turned to look at your car—you had no clue what you were doing! you were not a mechanic, and you were sure as hell not built for this type of heat. you pulled out the phone you had slipped into your back pocket, hand on your forehead as you fingered through your hair. 

your jaw clenched at the no service signal, rendering the device completely useless. just your luck to be stuck, in the middle of nowhere, with no cell service. just you and your broken down car, a few items of belonging in the trunk for your road trip.

hopelessness and panic started to sink in as you bit your cheek to hold back the tears, a hand still on your head as the other went to your hip. you circled the car in ponder—you had no clue where you were. you had no clue where the nearest repair shop was—if there even was one in this barren land. you huffed as you looked at the desert surrounding you—an impeccable view you do admit—with tall mountains in the distance and sparse cacti—and to your surprise, a lone tumbleweed that danced its way across the asphalt road.

your eyes followed the dead bush as it blew, somewhat bewildered at the sight since you’d never seen such in person—only in western movies you’d watch in the comfort of your apartment in the city.

your gaze from the bundle of weeds was torn away when you heard an approaching car from further down the road—actually, you had heard the obscenely loud and blaring country music from the vehicle before the wheels of the car against the road. your brows furrowed on your face as you glanced with squinted eyes at the approaching truck. an uneasy feeling bubbled in your tummy and you felt your hair standing on end at the sight of the big, intimidating truck that was getting closer and closer.

you swallowed thickly as you watched the truck pull off the road right after where you stood in front of your—much smaller and noticeably cleaner—car that looked massively out of place in the dusty surroundings. the music that disrupted the silence was cut-off as the keys were ripped out of the ignition, now met with tranquility as the air around settled.

it wasn’t long after that two guys had opened their respective doors, stepping out of the tall, dirtied, scraped truck. their boots scuffed against the tiny pebbles that littered the asphalt as they slammed the doors shut once again. 

you eyed the pair—but it was the driver who initially caught your eye. with dirtied cowboy boots, tight jeans that hugged his thighs and were speckled with dirt, a button-down shirt with a few too many undone—enough to show off his tanned and toned chest—a dusting of facial hair on his face, and curls peeking out from the cowboy hat that sat a little too low on his head, he walked his way over. alongside him, you assumed was his friend, who wore basically the same thing, except lacking the attempt to be a piece of eye candy.

you were a little stunned as they approached—i mean what if these incredibly attractive and muscled cowboys tried to kill you? it's not like you’d mind, they were hot enough to get away with it, but you just had to trust they wouldn’t—that they had the best intentions at heart.

you watched as the driver had taken the toothpick from between his teeth in between his index and middle fingers, his voice coming out gruffly with a heavy accent, “howdy, li’l lady,” he tapped his hat with a finger in greeting, seemingly too lazy to tip it off after a long days work, “wha’s wrong wit’ y’car?”

you watched his eyes dance between your face—and appearance—and back to your car, which appeared to be fine, but they had seen you standing on the side of the road.

you hummed, pursing your lips as you scratched the back of your head nervously while glancing back at your ride, “uh…” you stuttered slightly, letting out a breathless, nervous chuckle as you grimaced at your inability to get your words out, “it just stopped working.”

“well, tha’s no good,” he mumbled, a smirk on his face as he listened to your smooth voice, another nod to the fact you were not from around these parts, “mind if me and my buddy, oscar, here take a look, ma’am?” 

he threw a thumb in his friend’s direction, who was much paler in comparison, an eye squinted because of the sun as he stood awkwardly with his arms crossed against his chest.

you breathed a sigh of relief, saving you the pain of having to ask for his help—making him go out of his way if he didn’t offer to begin with. you nod, “please, if it's not too much of a hassle for you-”

he waved his hand dismissively, “nonsense, ‘s no problem to help out a pretty girl such as yerself,” he ignored the eye roll from his buddy beside him, nodding his head in gesture to the front of your car, “pop the hood f’me, would ya?”

you nodded quickly with a hum in response to tell him you heard him as you quickly did just that. you opened the car door, another noise surpassing your lips at the heat that had already accumulated in the car. the fact it was humid was just the cherry on top to make you even more miserable. nonetheless, you shook your head and dismissed the heat. Instead, you had done what the country boy had asked—after oscar had leaned against your open passenger side window to tell you how because you had never needed to before. 

a breathless thanks falling from your lips earned a small smile from him, tilting his head in acknowledgement as you once again stepped out from the car. you walked to the front of the car, hands on your hips and eyes squinted as you felt the sweat drip down your face.

you turned your body away from the sun, watching intently as lando had rolled up the sleeves of his button-up, revealing sweat-dirtied skin and veins from hard, strained work. you eyed his hands—already messy from the day's work they had done—and he had noticed, but he decided to not comment on it so soon.

part of you felt bad—they had probably just got done doing laborious tasks in the blistering, country heat and now you were making—they offered—them help you get your car up and running again.

you heard a hum fall from his lips as he settled his sleeves at his elbows, “le’s take a look ‘ere,” he mumbled to himself, taking the gloves that hung out of his back pocket and slipping them on to protect himself from the heated engine. a tinge of disappointment ran through your body at the fact he was covering up his hands, but there was plenty more of him to stare at—what?

you mentally shook your head—you just met the guy! he could probably—he did—see that you were checking him out head to toe. the way his biceps clearly filled out that button-up, the outline of his chest against the loose fitting torso of the fabric, the way the blue denim hugged his thighs just perfectly and fell loose below his knees, the bunched fabric at his elbows, the toothpick bitten between his teeth that slightly indented his bottom lip. you had to force yourself to peel your eyes away from the poor guy before you got lost in the way the sweat dripped down his neck.

his forearms leaned against the front of your car as he hunched over the engine, his gloved hands working through all the possible problems. every now and then, he swiped the back of his hand across his forehead to rid his face of the sweat.

you watched as his friend hovered beside him, offering enlightening suggestions to what could be wrong-

“aha!” his small celebration cut through the silence as your gaze once again settled on him, watching as he stood up, stretching an arm across his chest and his neck to the side briefly, “i see wha’s the problem.”

you looked to him with widened eyes, finding his gaze already on you as you swallowed nervously, “can it be fixed?” you asked, your voice sounding smaller than you would’ve liked—i mean the possibility of you getting out of here relied on the men in front of you.

“no, yeah, ‘ll be able to fix ‘er up in no time, but…” he shook his head, shutting the hood back as he leaned forward on his hands as they rested on the car, “ ‘ll hafta come back t’morrow, y’know.”

you nodded in sullen understanding—even though, no, you didn’t know—you sighed at the thought of sleeping in your hot, humid, broken car on the side of the road for the night, in the middle of nowhere.

oscar piped up, uncrossing his arms to lift his hands as he spoke, “actually, i might have a few tools-”

lando patted his hand against oscar’s chest, chuckling as he shook his head, “don't listen to ‘im ‘ere, he don’t know what he’s sayin’! must be the heat gettin’ to that empty head of ‘is! y’know wha tha’s like, yeah?”

you hum in confused agreement, your lips pulling into a straight line as you nod slowly, “uh, yeah… sure.”

he chuckles breathlessly, raising a hand towards you that says ‘see, you get it.’ “musta forgot we left them tools back at ‘r house!” he shakes his head as his empty chuckles die down, ignoring the glaring side eye from his friend, “now won't you give us a minute ‘ere, li’l lady.” he flashes a smile before grabbing a fist full of oscar’s shirt, hauling him off to the side of the road as they stand off in the dry, dusty dirt.

you watched as they seemed to get into very passionate conversation—and listen in. it's not like they were being quiet in the first place, you couldn't help but hear the words that left their mouths in hushed whispers—though most of it was in a thicker accent than when she spoke to them directly.

“what are you sayin’?!”

“what am i sayin’? what are you sayin’?” he shakes his head with a scoff, throwing a hand back in gesture towards the car, “y’know we can fix the damn car with the tools back in ‘r truck!”

“c’mon, osc, jus’ humor me this once!”

“yer bein’ an idiot, off yer rocker or sumthin’” he shakes his head with his hands on his hips like a disappointed mother as his boot taps against the ground, “yer hopeless.”

lando ignored the last comments from oscar as he walked back towards where you stood as he peeled the gloves from his hands, shoving them into his back pocket once again. he stood before you with his thumbs through his belt loops, looking down at you as he spoke.

he sniffled quietly, his nose scrunching, “we’ll give ya a ride to the next town over, missy,” he nodded his head once, his index finger swiping away the sweat over his top lip.

but before you can respond—tell them that it’s okay, you can sleep in the car—he makes a disapproving noise as he looks towards the sun. your gaze follows his, furrowing your brows as you don't seem to notice what he does.

he shakes his head, inhaling through his teeth, “actually, ‘s gettin’ dark out, darlin’,” he said slowly, gauging your thoughts by the way you react, “next town’s probably quieting down right about now.”

“oh,” you say simply, “well, that's alright, i can just sleep in my car, i guess.”

he dismisses your suggestion, “no need for that, missy. we can set you up at ‘r place?” he offers, an eyebrow raised at the suggestion, sensing the hesitation in your expression and body language.

you shook your head rapidly—they had already took the time to even look at the problem with your car, but now taking up space in their house? you felt like you were being greedy now.

“no, i don’t want to intrude!” you try to decline politely, waving your hands dismissively in front of you, “besides you’ve already helped plenty by even offering to fix my car.”

he chuckles, shaking his head in return, his curls bouncing slightly, “ ‘s no biggie. take yer in ‘r truck,” he nods towards the scuffed up vehicle behind him, “set ya up in ‘r guest room all nice and cozy, have yer car fixed before you even wake up. how’s tha’ sound, darlin’?”

you bite your lip as he looks at you, brow still raised in the question of ‘will you come with us?’ and how can you refuse the nice country boys, with their funny accents and silly words, who just want to get you on your way?

you nod reluctantly—it's not like you didn’t want to go with them, but you still felt like you were being a bit of a leech, “yeah, okay, if it's not too much of a hassle-”

“atta girl!” he smacks a hand down on your shoulder, almost too eagerly as he guides your path towards the passenger side of his beat-up truck. you tense under his hand, glancing back at the car with a frown.

“well, hold on now, lando,” oscar calls out, shaking his head as he mutters something about the eagerness of the man, “she might need to get a few of ‘er things from ‘er car! practically kidnappin’ her with how fast yer tryin’ to stuff her inside!”

lando tsk’s his tongue, pointing a finger in agreement at oscar’s words, “ah, suppose yer right,” he reluctantly drops your hand from your shoulder to let you back to your car. 

you awkwardly shuffle your way to the trunk of your car, acutely aware of their heavy gazes—especially as they studied you.yYou knew they knew you weren’t from around here, that you were not used to being in the weeds as they were and it heated up your cheeks to be so out of place and awkward next to them.

you quickly fill your hands with a small blanket and a change of clothes for the next day before shutting the trunk again, locking the car behind you as you walk back to lando’s side. his hand goes to the small of your back as he convinces you to ride shotgun next to him.

oscar opens his mouth to protest, his hand raised as he’s about to speak when lando feverishly waved his hand next to his neck—cut it out, osc! he could practically hear in his thoughts.

after he had gotten you settled into his car, he handed you his keys to give it a start—it's okay, climb over the center console and put yer foot on the brake to get ‘er started! don't want ya to burn up now!

once again, he grabbed a fist of oscar’s shirt as he tugged him to the side again, glancing back towards the truck as you settled in the seat after starting the car.

“mate, i know what yer doin’,” he spoke in an exasperated tone of disapproval as he too gazed back at the truck.

lando sighed, clambering a hand on his shoulder and massaging the muscle—weirdly enough for oscar to shrug it off with a grimace look of disgust. lando rolls his eyes, his hand falling back down to his side as he huffs out a sigh, “look, i told you-”

“i get it, she’s a pretty thing, but ‘s unnecessary,” he tells him, raising his brows with his head tilted down, “you should’ve jus’ fixed ‘er car and sent ‘er on ‘er way.”

he sniffles, swiping the back of his dirty hand across his nose, “if you don’t want ‘er back at the house, i understand, osc…”

he shakes his head, “it’s not that i don’t want ‘er in ‘r house, i mean she seems like a nice girl, but-” he cuts himself off, pursing his lips as he closes with eyes with a big sigh before looking at lando seriously, “listen, i just don’t want you takin’ advantage of ‘er.”

“y’know me, osc, and you know i won’t.”

“yeah, but that was before i saw you lay yer eyes on her, and saw them bug out of yer damn head.”

“shut up.” he grumbled, rolling his eyes with the shake of his head as he walked back around to the driver’s side door, watching poor oscar who was forced into the backseat of the car because of you—the pretty little thing in their front passenger seat.

the drive back was awkward to say the least. silence hung in the air, the only sound was the heavy hum of the car and the scrape of the tires on the asphalt. you tried to keep your eyes forward, ignoring the man beside you who drove with a single hand on the bottom of the steering wheel. whenever you’d glanced over, you could see the paled skin of his knuckles from his hard grasp on the wheel.

you had to forcibly peel your eyes away from the sight of his hands​​—his dusty sleeves still rolled up to his elbows, which exposed the smeared dirt across his tanned skin from his outside work. you couldn’t see, but a smirk etched its way onto his lips, his thumb swiping across his lips as if to wipe it away before you or oscar would notice.

the truck jostled to the side a bit as the road changed to rough gravel, hearing the crunch under the weight of the car. the house—that you assumed belonged to the two guys—came into view.

your eyes scanned the land—plenty of trees surrounded the property with a few animals here and there, a red barn further back near the edge of the forest, and the house itself. 

you didn't know what to expect when the thought of their house had first crossed your mind—but it hadn’t been too far from what you were seeing. the house looked quaint—a single story with a wrap-around patio, another vehicle parked up outside a good distance away from a red, wood dog house that had a water bowl next to it.

as lando pulled up to the house, parked up next to the other car, he killed the engine before getting out. you swiftly followed by unbuckling your seatbelt as you reached for the door handle, but you were beaten to it by the poor backseat dweller.

you gave him a soft smile—which he returned—muttering a ‘thanks’ as you took the hand he offered as he guided you down from the tall truck. he gave you a nod, dropping your hand as he shut the door behind you before looking over at lando, whose jaw was noticeably clenched. all oscar did was roll his eyes and begin to show you around the property, inviting you into their cozy country home.

lando quickly found himself by your side, gently taking your belongings from your arms with a friendly smile as he interrupted oscar, “ill get you set up in ‘r guest room,” he offered, taking great care in holding your precious belongings, “osc, why don't you go show ‘er them barn cats in the meantime.”

he watched the way your eyes lit up, failing to realize that the smile on his face grew bigger at your reaction—he enjoyed the way the tension slowly filtered from your stance at the thought of seeing some cute cats.

the air had begun to cool now, they had finally finished naming off all the little critters that lived on their property and were now taking you back to their main house for a bite to eat before hitting the hay. you would’ve denied being hungry if it weren’t for your tummy grumbling for nearly ten minutes.

you would’ve denied being hungry if it weren’t for the smell of a nice, home cooked meal that made your mouth water and your tummy growl even most incessantly. it was by far the best meal you had ever eaten in your life, and you started to relax and loosen up a bit more in their presence.

so now you were all sitting around on the couches, one was worn leather and the other some frayed corduroy fabric with several different patches sewn onto it. oscar had his head leaned against the backrest of the leather couch, his cowboy hat over his face and arms over his chest that moved with every soft inhale and exhale. in one of his hands, tucked in his elbow was a green, half drunk beer bottle that was still cold as the condensation dripped down the side.

lando, on the other hand, had taken his spot in the old recliner, a beer also in hand as he sipped causally, eyes glued to the old tv—it still had antennas and you were perplexed on how it still worked. still, you watched whatever old movie lando had claimed was the best movie that had ever existed—it was older than you.

it was late in the evening, the sound of cicadas and other loud insects chirping away as the sun had finally fallen from the sky, painting the sky a dark black with speckled stars. you were confused at first as to why lando had ushered you out onto the porch so late at night, but once you glanced up to the nice sky, it had all made sense.

a view like this was never available to you in the city, but here and now, it was. away from all the light pollution and tall buildings of the city, you stood under the porch, leaning against the white railing in awe at the unfiltered night sky.

lando had smiled at your mumbles, countless words of how pretty, gorgeous and striking the view was, how lucky he was to be able to see this from where they stood. you shook your head in disbelief, “‘s so pretty,” you had mumbled breathlessly, turning your head to find that he hadn’t taken his eyes off you.

he leaned next to you, a beer still in hand—no doubt it wasn’t his first of the night. your arms barely grazed each other, the fabric of his long sleeve against your bare arm sent tingles over your body.

“sure is,” he whispered back, a smug smile tugging at his lips as he glanced appreciatively over the features of your face before tilting his beer bottle towards you. all you did was smile, feeling the heat rush to your face at his incentive—that you were his best view. you hesitantly took the bottle in your hand, swooshing around the liquid before taking a sip.

he chuckled as your face contorted in a grimace, taking the bottle back from you as he watched your reaction with deep enjoyment, “not a fan, eh?” he teased before taking a sip himself.

“definitely not,” you cough out once you managed to get it swallowed, smacking your lips as you still feel the taste on your tongue, “never had been before.”

his brows raised at your admission, “is that so?” he hums, nodding as he looks back over the property, “so what do ya drink?”

you hum, taking a moment to consider before listing off a few fruity cocktails that you had tried during your club outings. you watched the look of confusion come over his face, the sight making you giggle.

“wha’the hell is tha?” he questions, his voice raised an octave.

all you can do is shake your head and laugh as you nudge his shoulder, promising him, “i’ll have to take you to the city someday.”

“yeah, sure ya will.”

instead of responding, you just rolled your eyes and fixed your gaze back at the awe-striking view. you stood contently for a long time before lando had to force you inside to finally get some rest after a long day, muttering promises that your car would be fixed before first light tomorrow.

cock-a-doodle-do!

when the sound reached your ears, you slipped in consciousness, confusion and disbelief as you sat up in the wood-framed bed. you groaned, your shoulders hunched and hair heavily disheveled. you would’ve slept longer if it were for the rooster that had loudly crowed at the crack of dawn. you had hardly believed that it was something that roosters actually do—you were a bit naive. 

you rolled back in bed, shoving a pillow over your head to block out the sounds of incessant crowing until you had fallen back into a light sleep—stupid chicken.

and when you awoke again a couple hours later with a knock to the guest room door, you stirred. again you sat up, groaned at the forceful waking, but this time you stayed up as you called out for whoever knocked to come in.

the door creaked open, and there was oscar, a smile on his slightly sunburned face, as per usual, talking about how there’s some food left over that you can heat up. though, not all the words make it to your sleep-fogged brain so you just hum and nod, adjusting to the bright sun slipping through the curtains.

you sighed when you realized that by now, your car was probably fixed, that this was the last yummy meal cooked by these nice—and strangely attractive—country boys. surprisingly, you felt your heart ache at the thought of leaving. they had been so nice to you, inviting you into their home with nothing, but care and generosity.

but of course, leaving had come all too soon as you were driven back to where your car had broken down—oscar suffering in the backseat after being forced once again to sit back there. being lead to your car with small talk as it sunk in that the pretty little lady who’s car they fixed was now going on her way.

they stood either side of your car, oscar on the passenger side and lando on the driver's side. you had the door propped open, starting the car with a smile on your face, but it quickly turned sad.

as you closed the car door, you rolled down the window to look up at lando as he stood closer, hands in the front pockets of his jeans, a small smile on his lips as he looked down at you. you held out an arm to which he leaned over, allowing you to wrap in around him, his arm snaking around your back. he lightly patted it after a few moments, relishing in the affection before inevitably pulling away.

“thank you again, mr.—” you paused, realizing you hadn’t gotten as acquainted to learn their full names, suddenly feeling a bit red in the face as you blanked.

all lando did was smirk as he leaned against your car door, arm over the window as he bent down to eye level with you. his other hand snaked its way up to the hat that sat atop his head. he revealed the dark curls beneath as he lifted it from his head, situating it on yours the best he could—it wasn’t as secure of a fit on your head compared to his. “norris,” he finished the sentence for you, now holding out his hand for you to shake—which you do—“lando norris. it was nice to meeting ya, darlin’, see ya around.”

—

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proofread by @foreveralbon <333

[tarotwithavi]

Love letter from your future spouse

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

How to choose a pile?

Close your eyes and take a deep breath and ask the angels to show you the right pile for you and open your eyes. The first pile that catches your attention is the right pile for you.

Masterlist

Paid services

I have been scammed recently and am now in urgent need of money. Any help you can offer would be greatly appreciated.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Pile 1

My Dear Sunshine,

From the moment I first laid eyes on you, my world changed in ways I never imagined possible. I remember that day so clearly the way you walked into the room with such grace, your smile lighting up the space around you. I was completely captivated. My heart raced, and I knew, in that instant, that you were someone extraordinary.

As we spoke, I found myself drawn to your kindness, your intelligence, and your genuine warmth. Every word you said, every laugh we shared, deepened my infatuation. I had never felt such a powerful connection with anyone before. You were like a breath of fresh air, and I couldn't get enough.

I often think about that first meeting and how it felt like destiny had brought us together. I am so grateful for that moment because it was the start of something beautiful, something I never want to end.

You have become such an important part of my life, and I can't imagine my future without you in it. I want you to know that my feelings for you are deep and unwavering. I am committed to cherishing you, supporting you, and standing by your side through all of life's ups and downs.

I promise to never let you go, to hold onto this incredible love we share, and to always make you feel as special as you are to me. You are my heart, my joy, and my everything.

Thank you for being the wonderful person you are and for allowing me to be a part of your life. I look forward to many more beautiful moments together and a lifetime of love.

Yours forever,

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Pile 2

My Dearest Love,

Every moment without you feels like an eternity. I long for you with every beat of my heart and every breath I take. My days are spent thinking of you, dreaming of the life we’ll share. I am waiting for you, holding onto the hope that soon we will be together.

I have so many plans for us, my love. I imagine us exploring the world together, hand in hand. We'll travel to the places we've always dreamed of, wandering the streets of Paris, watching the sunset in Santorini, and walking through the cherry blossoms in Kyoto. Each place will be a new adventure, a new memory created with you by my side.

But more than the places we’ll go, it’s the journey we’ll take together that excites me the most. We’ll face the challenges of life, supporting and loving each other through every obstacle. We'll fight against the world if we must, standing strong together, never letting go of each other. Your strength and courage inspire me, and with you, I feel I can face anything.

Eventually, we will create our own world, a sanctuary built on our love and shared dreams. A place where we can be ourselves, free and happy, surrounded by the warmth of our love. I see us building a home filled with laughter, joy, and endless love. A place where our hearts will always find peace and where our souls will be forever entwined.

I miss you more than words can express. My heart aches for the day when we no longer have to be apart. Until then, know that I am here, waiting for you, planning our future, and dreaming of the incredible life we will share.

With all my love,

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Pile 3

My lovely butterfly,

I hope this letter finds you well, wrapped in the warmth of your own beautiful spirit. There are so many things I want to say to you, so many feelings that often get lost in the day-to-day rush of life.

Firstly, please know that I see you. I see the strength in your independence, how you navigate life with such grace and determination. It's one of the things I admire most about you; your ability to stand tall even when the world tries to push you down.

I want you to promise me something, my love. Promise me that no matter what challenges come our way, you'll never lose hope of finding me. Promise me that even on the darkest days, you'll hold onto the belief that we are meant to be together, that our paths will cross when the time is right.

I cherish every moment we spend together, every smile you grace me with, every laugh that echoes through my heart. Your jokes, even the ones that aren't funny, they light up my world in ways you can't imagine. And your madness, oh, how I adore it. It's the spark that ignites our moments together, the unpredictability that keeps life exciting.

I want you to know that I'll never ask you to change who you are. Your beliefs, your dreams, your quirks, they are what make you uniquely you, and that's who I fell in love with.

I promise to always respect your individuality, to never force my beliefs upon you or mold you into someone you're not. Through the ups and downs, the twists and turns of life, I'll be there. I'll be your rock, your shoulder to lean on, your unwavering support. My love for you knows no bounds, it's a love that grows stronger with each passing day, with every sunrise we witness together.

So, my love, hold onto these words when doubt creeps in. Know that you are cherished beyond measure, loved unconditionally, and admired endlessly. Our love story is still unfolding, and I can't wait to see where it leads us next.

Wait for me

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊