#I guess we just need to be so much louder about not having anything to do with these idiots

[vintage-bentley]

The trans community has been so successful at forcing allyship with LGB people, that there are people who believe those of us who support “LGB drop the T” are actually straight people lying about being LGB. There are people who genuinely do not think that LGB people can have any sort of disagreement with the trans community, despite how awfully we (especially lesbians) have been treated by them. There are straight people who gather as many “queer” labels as possible to pretend they’re like us and so that they can take over our community, and when we stand up to them they claim we’re the frauds. Because they cannot comprehend the idea of LGB people not wanting to be their puppets.

[sungstars]

slut me out | njm x fem!reader

i.e you needed to give your situationship the time of his life after seeing his instagram story.

word count: 2.8k (not proof read)

content warning: situationship, open ending, smut lol, oral (m. rec.), fingering (f. rec.), explicit sex, unprotected sex(no!), creampie, lmk if i missed anything thanks!

author's note: two fics in one day! can we believe this LOL. would you guys be surprised if i said that i have a mark one that i'm hoping to finish and it'll be queued up for tomorrow morning/afternoon. i hope you all enjoy this fic and as always, dedicated to my crazy and delusional bffs. likes & reblogs are appreciated as always. requests are open till october 5th! i'm still working on my jay fic, and hoping to have that out by tuesday!!

“you’re fucking crazy,” you said once the phone picked up after the first ring, “you can delete that story, i saw it.”

jaemin let out a hearty laugh, “hmm? but jisungie looks so cute, what if one of my followers wants me to put them on with him?”

you jeer, fingering hovering over the red button on the screen, “you definitely could’ve posted him without making sure your shirt is unbuttoned and they can see the chain that i bought you peeking through. what if they’re crazy like me?”

“don’t worry, nobody has you beat in that department.” jaemin added quickly, “you can come over if you want.”

did you want to? absolutely. you needed to rock his world so hard that it was likely to be rated a category 9.5 earthquake.

“you can come to me,” you quipped back, “and hurry up, i dont have a lot of patience. don’t change either.”

“you’re so demanding,” jaemin whined, a glint of playfulness evident in his voice, “i have to stop at my other hoe’s house first, but i’ll be there.”

“not even funny.” you hung up the phone, rolling your eyes.

focusing back on your room, you jumped up in a panic. you needed to change and also pick up the clothes you had thrown all over the place.

realistically, you didn’t know if jaemin was kidding about seeing somebody else first, but if he wasn’t, you had about twenty minutes including traffic before he got to your place.

you shoved all the loose piece of clothing into whatever drawer or laundry basket they would fit into. doing a once over your room, you were satisfied with what you were able to do.

looking at your floor length mirror, you didn’t care too much about what you had on. a big t-shirt with snoopy playing baseball on the front.

easy access for jaemin, but you should probably change your dingy halloween panties from victoria secret into something cute.

perhaps pink? that seemed on brand for tonight’s theme.

you were digging through your underwear drawer looking for that lacey pink thong you got from the mall a few weeks ago when you heard a knock on your door.

“fuck,” you said, slamming the drawer shut to no avail and rubbing your hands down your hair to smooth out any frizz, “fuck.”

the knocking got louder, causing you to practically trip on air as you ran to grab the door.

“took your sweet time letting me in,” jaemin pouted. leaning against the doorframe when you opened it, “that mad at me?”

rolling your eyes, you pulled him in by his silky pajama shirt and closing the door behind him, “guess she wasn’t that good if you got here within the same hour of calling.”

jaemin smiled, dropping down onto your couch and sliding his shoes off, “i’d say she was pretty damn good if i got done quickly and i’m not here.”

you crossed your arms, scoffing at his comment and began to walk to your bedroom.

“you’re such a dick.”

“i heard that,” he said, jumping off the couch to chase behind you, “i'm just kidding y/n, you know it's just you."

"are you sure? cause you keep making comments about other girls, are you trynna compensate? i don't care if you see other people."

jaemin laughed at you for the nth time this evening, making you want to just slam your bedroom door in his face and lock him out, but unfortunately for you, seeing jaemin in those pink pajamas and gold chain sent you into borderline ovulation.

you grabbed jaemin by the arm, leading him to sit on your bed and standing between his legs.

"it's just you," jaemin reassured, a hand coming up to rub your hip gently, "just like driving you crazy 'cause i know you're really fucking insane."

jaemin got a whiff of your secret cloud perfume as you leaned down and kissed his neck gently.

"i'm going to turn you every way but loose tonight," you whispered into his ear, teeth grazing the shell of his ear, "and i'm gonna show you how insane i am over you."

a shiver went down jaemin's back as you kissed down his neck and to his adam's apple, making sure to suck dark marks into his skin before placing your lips on his.

his arms wrapped your waist, pulling you down into his lap as he deepened the kiss. your hands found their way entangled into his brunette locks, moaning as he slipped his tongue into your mouth.

the two of you fought for dominance over the kiss, though jaemin just wanted to put up a good fight before letting you win.

you then slipped your tongue into his mouth, removing your hands from his hair and moving them down to his shoulders.

you gently pushed him back and onto the mattress, letting your fingers skillfully undo his pajama shirt, enjoying the smooth silk under your fingertips before pulling the shirt open.

jaemin pressed his hips up, hoping to get a small bit of friction on his growing erection and moaning when you rut your own hips down.

pulling away from the kiss, your chest heaved as you did a lookover his body. his plush lips swollen and glossy with spit, dark splots decorating his skin from earlier, his own defined chest moving rapidly as he tried to catch his own breath.

"you look so pretty under me, jaem," you complimented, your fingers dancing across his exposed collarbones and down his gold chain, "a sight only i should be allowed to see."

jaemin exhaled heavily through his nose, "a sight only for you. . please, don't stop. i want you. . i need you so badly, y/n."

how could you deny such a request from a pretty boy completely at your disposal? you weren't a cruel or dumb woman, so of course you'll comply.

you leaned down to attach your lips to his collarbone, biting and sucking gently as you made your way down his chest.

moving the pink fabric away, you let your tongue teasingly flick at his nipple to elicit a whiny moan from his mouth before taking his nipple between your lips.

"fuck y/n," he groaned, "that feels so good."

smirking to yourself, you pull off and stand up. the boy's eyes widened, trying to hold back another whine because why did you pull off? and why are you standing?

"c'mon," jaemin said, voice cracking slightly, "don't be a tease."

"a tease?" you titled your head as he sat up on his elbows, "if you beg, i'll consider."

a bright red hue cascaded over jaemin's face at your request, but he couldn't get any more pathetic than he already looked.

"y/n," he pleaded, "please do something. i am so undeniably hard, and if i don't feel those pretty lips or pretty hands wrapped around my dick that i know you love, i will implode and you'll be out of a bomb dick appointment and home."

a laugh escaped, jaemin really knew what to say to make you give into him. it's why you liked him honestly. he was funny and charming, and did in fact have a great dick that drove you insane. you used to be normal before he stuck his dick in you.

jaemin reached forward, grabbing your hand and placing it over his boner. that action alone could've made you cum in your panties because pathetic jaemin was probably your favorite jaemin.

you instinctively wrapped your fingers around it the best you could while it was restrained in those silky pants, slowly jerking him off and watching a bead of precum stain the fabric.

"see how hard i am?" he asked, breathily, "all for you. all because of you."

stroking your ego was one of the many things jaemin was good at, so you decided to play nicely and give him something to relief this tension you could feel growing in his body.

"take 'em off," you said, releasing his cock from your grip, moving back to give him room, "show me that pretty dick, jaem."

if you weren't standing in front of him, you were sure he would've fell face forward onto your carpet from how fast he was trying to get his pants down and off his hips.

once they were at his thighs, you leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on his lips before sinking down to your knees.

you were face to face with jaemin's cock, the tip an angry shade of red and precum still leaking from his slit.

spit began to pool inside your mouth the longer you looked at it, and you stuck your tongue out to swipe the precum dribbling from his cock.

jaemin moaned out, hands gripping the sheets beneath him, “stop. . put it in your mouth.”

you furrowed your eyebrows and looked up, “don’t make demands.”

the brunette’s jaw ticked, one hand coming up to your hair and the other grabbing the base of his dick.

he pushed your head back roughly, tapping the head of his cock on your lips and smearing more precum across, “don’t be a fucking tease.”

your eyes widened in surprise at the switch in jaemin's demeanor, but instead of giving him a hard time, you complied by opening your mouth for him.

without hesitation, jaemin shoved his cock into your mouth until it hit the back of your throat which caused you to gag and tears well up in your eyes.

"don't get sensitive now," he mumbled, swiping the tears from your face, "now be good and suck. show me why you're my favorite."

his favorite? you should been his fuckin' only like he said you were earlier. what is up with the inconsistency? he's gonna piss you off.

you used your tongue to lick the under part of his cock, pulling off to leave just the tip in your mouth.

jaemin's grip on your hair tightened, trying his best to let you have control, but wanting nothing more than to just fuck your throat until you're sobbing.

you pulled completely off his cock, bringing your hand to jerk him off while you used your tongue to lick a stripe on his balls and gently suck.

the brunette's eyes rolled back, a string of moans and high pitched whines leaving his throat as you continued to toy with his balls.

whenever your hand reached the tip, you would squeeze every so slightly, causing him to fuck into your hand.

jaemin was close, and you could tell by the way he was whimpering and trying to chase your hand.

you looked up at him, smiling to yourself before pulling off his dick completely, basking in his borderline sob at the loss of contact.

"why did you stop?" tears welled up in his eyes, feeling like he would explode, "you're so fuckin' mean."

cooing, you wiped tears away from his eyes like he did earlier, "cause i knew you were close, jaem."

he sniffled, grabbing you and pinning you down onto the bed in one swift motion.

sometimes, you forget how strong he can be, causing you to get even more wet if that was possible. your panties were sticking almost uncomfortably to your cunt, and you were hoping he would do something to relief that soon.

too lost in your own thoughts of pleasure, you didn't even realize jaemin was pulling your t-shirt up until the cool air hit your nipples.

he used his lithe digits to roll your perked nipples around, causing you to squeal at the contact.

"love the panties," jaemin teased, using one of his hands to snap the waistband against your skin, "so cute and so soaked. god, you really get off from anything as long as it's me, huh?"

"you fuckin' wish," you tried to bite, but it came out as a whimper when he pressed his hand against your core, allowing for some friction of pleasure.

"shhh," he said, "can't even muster an ounce of niceness when i'm about to fuck you?"

jaemin flicked your nipples, smirking at your almost pained moan before moving down to take your underwear off, eyes watching how they were sticking to your sopping cunt, "so wet for me, hm?"

you nodded your head in compliance this time, "all for you."

he swiped a finger up your slit, bringing it to his mouth and licking it clean, "taste so sweet, but act so so mean towards nana, wonder why that is?"

you huffed, hooking a heel behind his thigh and pulling him close so his cock would make some contact with your cunt, a noise escaping your throat when the tip came into rough contact with your clit.

"that needy? what was it you said earlier? beg. beg for it, dumb whore."

degrading was something you and jaemin never tried, but with how effortlessly it slipped out of his mouth, you wish he would've done it sooner.

"jaem," you grinded against his cock, "please fuck me, y'know you want to. please, i need it so badly."

jaemin just looked at you unimpressed, dragging his cock up and down your cunt, looking at how you falter when his tip catches your sensitive bundle of nerves, "beg more."

you wanted to burst into tears, he knows how much you want him, he can feel how wet you are and probably at more slickness slipping out as he teased you, "nana, please put it in. i'll stop being mean, promise. i need your cock--i need you. please fuck me."

his left hand came up to smooth your hair out, smiling all his pearls at you as he slowly pushed the fat tip of his cock into you, finally.

jaemin slowly pushed himself into your cunt, moaning at how easily you took his cock, letting his hand fall from your hair and place pressure on your clit.

"it's like you were made for me, fuck" he gritted his teeth, thrusting shallowly into you, "taking me so well every time, your cunt just fuckin' sucks me in.. ha."

all you could do was moan in response, eyes rolling back when jaemin's gold chain smacked you in the nose, "fuck, too good."

jaemin rubbed your clit roughly as he picked his pace up, hips snapping against yours as your arousal ran down your thighs and his balls, creating a wet sound between the two of you.

you clenched around jaemin's cock, letting out high pitched noises of pleasure as he fucked you harshly, the knot in your stomach tightening and traveling down your pelvis.

"fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck" you cried, placing your hand on his lower abdomen and trying to push him away, but he quickly snatched it and held it above your head, "jaem, fuck, please, it's too much."

jaemin ignored your pleas, "y'know you can take it, stop trying to run from it."

when jaemin snapped his hips harshly once more, you felt that knot in your stomach break and ecstasy overtake your senses.

you couldn't even muster the feeling of embarassment from how good you felt when liquid practically sprayed your thighs and jaemin's abdomen.

the boy tapped the head of his cock on your clit, groaning loudly as you continued to squirt before roughly showing himself back into you.

"jaemin," you squealed, back arching up, "i can't! i can't."

"you can," he said, fucking you harshly, feeling himself getting closer and closer, "and you will take this dick. you wanna whine about other people havin' it so bad, take it, slut."

with jaemin fucking you so soon after an intense orgasm, all you could do was sob and mumble his name. it wasn't going to take you long to cum again, and jaemin could tell about how you were clenching on his dick.

your fingers dug into his shoulders, creating red crescents as his chain smacked you over and over again, his orgasm approaching any second.

"i'm so close, angel." he whined, his thrusts starting to stutter and slow down, "fuck, can i come inside please?"

"o-of course," you nodded your head, your own orgasm approaching once more, "please cum in me."

one more snap of jaemin's hips and he let out a loud moan, stilling himself as white hot ropes of his cum began to fill you and create a creamy ring around his cock, "fuck, you were too good."

he began to thrust slowly to ride out your orgasms, kissing your forehead and whispering sweet praises into your ear.

once you pushed his chest away to let him know he was overstimulating you, he pulled out completely and laid next to you, chest heaving rapidly.

"y/n." he turned on his side, "i really do like you."

you smiled, grabbing his hand and intertwining your fingers, "i really like you too jaemin."

he pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek and pulled you closer to him, "it's always been just you."

end!

[punksocks]

Astrology Observation: No.24 (18+ Only)

No minors! Adults only pls

Just based on my opinions only take what resonates

-Water moons/mars are the most likely to just say they love you during s*x (they may mean it too !); Can happen to fire moon/mars too but they may not mean it after the moment; Earth Moon/Mars will not be saying anything without planning well in advance (Earth moon AND Mars, you will not catch them slip lmao); I’d assume Air Moon/Mars would be the most likely to tease the other person(s) and say just about anything but I love you

-Venus aspects to Mars/ Taurus/Libra mars/ Venus and/or Mars in 2nd could really enjoy dressing up in lingerie and setting up a s*xy atmosphere in general (and your partner would enjoy this too !)

-1st/2nd /7th/8th house Venus, Scorpio Venus, Venus conjunct Pluto/ sometimes 12th house venus you may get compliments on your genitals from people during s*x (like told you have a pretty p*ssy lol yea fr)

-1st /8th house mars, Aries mars, Scorpio mars/Mars conjunct Pluto/sometimes 12th house mars would also be this for those in their masc energy (instead of pretty someone might admire the aggressive look of your junk instead)

-Imo the easiest sexual partners to discuss boundaries and such with will be partners that have easy (conjunct/trine/Sextile) mars aspects to your Mercury and/or moon

-I know we’d assume that mars in 8th is the most s*xual but I’d argue that mars in 12th is also super s*xual. Intimacy tends to be heavy on the mind, and there’s a higher chance of mirroring s*xual energy back to others. Especially if the native acts out of their masc/mars energy

-i’d think Aries, Leo, and Scorpio mars would be the most into their partner being SO attracted to them they can’t keep their hands off of them and/or finish too fast (least likely with Scorpio unless you’re just really over stimulating them, most likely with Aries- the most veracious Aries mars go rounds imo)

-I’d argue and assume that air mars/3rd house mars are spacing out the hardest during s*x, and I bet it’s not on purpose (just bouncing between thoughts and coming back to what’s going on)(also if you keep their attention, you’re doing something right)

-Water mars could mean you sleep around for emotional validation (…Imma say it… cancer mars has the strongest chances lol)

-I think your Venus and mars together can show if you’re more of a sub or dom imo (like if they’re both cardinal you’re probably a dom, if they’re mutable then you may be a switch/sub, and if they’re fixed I’d think you’d be hard set on being a sub or dom — and then results may vary depending on the combination of signs and how much of your feminine or masculine energy you act out of.)

-I think Scorpio Venus/Mars makes someone more dominant in s*x than Aries mars/Venus imo (they’re not here to win, they’re here to posses you- that’s so intense man)

-Understated praise kink placements? Virgo moon/mars. They need to hear praises for how well they did or they’re gonna overthink it. Libra/Taurus mars also would like this. And Venus square/opposition Mars would too in a tell me how much you want me sort of way (it makes them feel really desired)

-Tumblr ruined me bc now every time I look up a dudes birth chart and see Sagittarius mars/Jupiter positively aspecting mars I’m like damn, do they just have bde or actually have a big d*ck and I feel bad for guessing lmao but now it’s so automatic

-Strong Lilith placements (1st/7th/8th/10th) can show guys pressuring you to perform their like shadow side fantasies (which is not cool, because where’s the consent? We always need to discuss things beforehand and map out a plan otherwise it’s skeezy behavior -unless you’re into being surprised but even then lol)

-Gemini placements (the big 6, but especially mars) make you louder in bed. And more open to trying new things and switching up positions.

-5th house synastry is really s*xy and fun. Some of the best dates and relationships imo. It also allows you to open up and experiment in a way you never have before. Can keep a long term relationship exciting as well depending on the overall synastry. (Be careful bc this is the pregnancy overlay too oml)

-I think north node in 5th can (depending on the sign and aspects ofc) can point to indulging in the senses, partying, breakin hearts and hookin up a bunch— especially if you’re unbalanced/still learning to balance this with your south node energy

-(in sing songy voice) Scorpio synastry is someone telling you s*x with you makes them f*cking crazy (No they are not kidding ! Lilith synastry is this on steroids but it feels more like you’re lighting this fire in the more masc person - and they’re afraid of burning imo (I’m not singing any more lol)

-I hold to the fact that Lilith in 1st/7th/8th/10th can make someone jump into bed with you way faster than they usually would even if they have like an earth or water mars, if you have Lilith synastry with them this is amplified

-Masc folks/Men with Taurus and/or Cancer in their big 6 (especially mars/venus) are very attracted to women/femmes that are curvy and have an hourglass figure. Aries placements tend to be attracted to athletic figures. Leo placements are likely to jump at figures they find attention grabbing. Libra/Scorpio placement men are more likely to be attracted to figures that they’re socialized to find s*xy. I find that Sagittarius/Pisces is the least likely to have a set type. Aquarius and Gemini are also pretty dependent on personality and conversation skills.

[hotshotsxyz]

too little, too late

(8x08 coda) (buddie) (1.2k) the episode chose violence and so did i :) spoilers for 8x08, and hey, guess what? this is my 100th 911 fic! it feels right that it's an evil one <3

The real estate agent has an irritating voice. It’s pitchy and run through with vocal fry, and if Buck has to listen to her talk for another second, he might actually tear his hair out. And it’s definitely about her voice. Nothing to do with the largely helpful information she’s handing over to Eddie like candy on Halloween.

“Anyway, we can touch base again once you’ve had a chance to look over those listings. I’m sure we’ll find something for both of you to love!” the realtor says.

Buck smiles. It feels brittle and fake.

“Thank you so much,” Eddie says with all the sincerity Buck can’t quite muster. He ends the call and sits back against the couch.

“That, uh—that went, um—” He’s choking on the positivity he’s trying so hard to exude. “—well,” he manages.

“Yeah,” Eddie says. He runs a hand through his hair. “Seems easier than I thought it was going to be.”

Easy.

That’s—

Yeah.

“You know you—you don’t have to buy straight away,” Buck says as casually as he can manage, which is to say, not casually at all.

“Buck,” Eddie says with a sigh.

“I know!” Buck says, throwing his hands out in a gesture of surrender. “Just—maybe you want to make sure, you know? Before it’s—it’s permanent.”

“I can’t keep missing out on his life,” Eddie says quietly.

Buck swallows. He knows. He knows! Knows it like he knows there’s going to be an Eddie-and-Chris shaped hole in his heart for the rest of his goddamn life.

“I don’t want you to,” Buck says, and it’s maybe the first honest thing that’s come out of his mouth since he sat down on Eddie’s couch.

Bile rises in the back of his throat as he realizes this might be one of the last times he gets to sit on this couch, in this house, with this man.

Eddie drops his head into his hands. “I don’t—” He cuts himself off.

“Have you told Bobby yet?” Buck asks. His breath catches.

“No,” Eddie says.

“Oh,” Buck says in a rush of air. “That’s—” He wants to say good. He can’t say good. Eddie needs—he needs—

Eddie lifts his head from his hands and his eyes are shining. “I don’t want to,” he admits. “I thought—”

“That he’d want to come back,” Buck supplies when Eddie doesn’t finish his thought.

He nods.

“He still—he could still—” Buck starts.

“He’s not going to change his mind.” Eddie cuts him off. “He doesn’t hate me. It’s worse than that. He doesn’t care.”

Buck’s chest feels tight. “He—he loves you, Eddie,” he says weakly.

“Maybe before, but—”

“He does,” Buck insists. “And—and if this is what you have to do to make sure that stays true I—I get it.” He does. He gets it. He’d do anything for Christopher. He’d—

It’s the worst feeling in the entire fucking world, but he’d give up Eddie for that kid. Is. Is giving up Eddie for that kid. A sob jumps up in Buck’s throat. He fights it back.

“I want to believe you,” Eddie says.

Buck knows that he doesn’t.

“Have you, um. Have you talked to Chris about this yet?” Buck asks, feeling a little bit like he’s just laid his neck across the base of a guillotine.

Eddie shakes his head. “No, I—I’ve got to do this, whether he wants me to or not.”

All at once Buck’s angry. Angry at Eddie, angry at his parents, at fucking Kim, at himself, and maybe even a little bit at Christopher.

“Eddie, you—you told him he could come back!” He says, a little louder than he means to. “Doesn’t he deserve to know that’s not going to be an option anymore?”

Eddie’s gaze snaps to his. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“He’s got—he’s got friends here, and—and Carla, and—” He can’t say it. He doesn’t have the right to say it, doesn’t have the right to feel like he’s already lost a limb and now they’re taking a lung, but— “and me,” he finishes quietly.

Something like devastation flashes across Eddie’s face. “Buck, I—”

“No,” Buck says quickly, standing up from the couch. “I shouldn’t have—I’m not—”

“Buck, wait,” Eddie says, following him as he retreats toward the door.

“I, um—I forgot, I have to—I promised Maddie,” he tries to lie.

“Please don’t go,” Eddie says, and god, how many times in Buck’s life has he yearned to hear someone say that to him and mean it. How many nights has he driven home from Eddie’s wishing he’d been asked to stay.

This thing building in his chest, this thing of anger and grief and regret—it hurts. Every breath he takes is a little more constricted, a little less effective.

Eddie looks at him, and Buck sees it. That thing he’s always wanted to see. That thing he didn’t even know he wanted from Eddie until right now and it’s—

There was a small, naïvely hopeful part of Buck that really still believe that if someone loved him enough, they’d stay. Eddie loves him, looks at Buck like he’ll break his heart when he walks out the door, and it still isn’t—

Eddie loves him, and it isn’t enough to make him stay.

Buck is in love with him, he realizes, and it doesn’t fucking matter because he’s leaving. Like Abby and like Tommy, except Buck didn’t know how much hurt he hadn’t even discovered yet, because this isn’t Abby or Tommy, it’s Eddie, and Eddie—

Eddie’s supposed to be the one that stays.

Buck shakes his head and shuffles back until the doorknob is digging into his spine. “I have to,” he breathes, a grossly distorted reflection of what neither of them has quite managed to say.

Eddie opens his mouth like he’s going to ask again, like he’s going to beg Buck to stay, to show him all these awful pieces of his heart that he’s just found so he can remind himself that it’s not too much to leave behind.

Buck’s out the door before he can say another word.

He throws himself into the Jeep and all but fishtails it out of Eddie’s driveway. He makes it three streets away before he has to pull over.

The first sob surprises him with its softness; the second with its violence. He wraps his arms tight around his stomach and, god, he tries to breathe. But there’s not—there’s not enough oxygen in the entire world to make up for the way his lungs refuse to expand in the face of this loss.

He has to—he can’t—Eddie needs him to pull it together. To—to help him. To support him, and god help him, Buck will. There’s nothing Eddie could ask of him that he wouldn’t give. Nothing Eddie could do, Buck’s realizing, to make him love him any less.

Hot tears spill down Buck’s cheeks. He takes a shuddering breath and wipes them away. His vital organs are crumbling, so what?

He’ll set himself on fire if that’s what it takes to keep Eddie warm.

[thediaryofaurora]

𖧐Kinktober - Day 3𖧐

Theme: Car sex / stranded

Pairing: Ticci Toby x colleague!reader

CW: NSFW, dry humping, f!reader, riding

Word count: 1.0k

Side note: Sorry this is late, I’ve been caught up in doctor appointments, but good news is I’m off my crutches 🧚 Also I didn’t prepare for Kinktober what so ever, burnout is going CRAZY. I’m gonna spend the weekend preparing more, but day 4 might be a little late also 💔

❤︎︎❥❤︎︎❥❤︎︎❥❤︎︎❥❤︎︎❥❤︎︎❥❤︎︎

“I-I already tried, damn en-engine won’t start.” Toby huffs, putting his hands in his pockets while he leans against the trunk.

“Then what the hell are we supposed to do??”

It’s the middle of winter for fuck’s sake, walking nearly 90 miles back to the mansion would take days, probably even get you both killed in the process. You already notified Tim, but even in a car it’ll take over an hour.

“W-we might as well get back in the car. I-it’s better than standing o-out here with the wind.”

“I guess.” You grumble, opening the driver’s side door and slipping in, Toby following suit.

Being shielded from the wind and light snow is definitely better than waiting outside and getting frostbite, but the temperature in the car had still dropped once the heat was turned off.

“It’s too fucking cold for this, are you sure we didn’t pack any matches?”

“No l-lighter either.”

Sighing, you put the keys back in the ignition, hoping for any chance of it turning on.

Vrrrrr, pufk

“Piece of shit.”

You two had already been out in the cold for half an hour, having to walk back from your mission, and looking down at your hands turning a faint purple makes the situation even more urgent.

“Get in the back.” You gruff, climbing over the center console and into the backseat. Toby doesn’t hesitate to follow, if you have an idea to keep you both from freezing to death he’s open to it.

“A-are we huddling?”

He chuckles, resting against the door while you crawl on top of him. No wonder he’s not as worried about the whole ordeal as you, he’s barely cold. You nestle up against him, draping your arm around his chest with a sigh. Even though you both had known each other for a while, he’s obviously nervous, the way his rapid heart beat is thumping in your ear while you rest your head on his chest making that clear.

Trying to take in any warmth you can get, you drape your leg over his hips, then you feel it: the reason he’s so nervy.

Maybe you can help him out, it doesn’t have to mean anything. Gently you grind down on him, enough for him to not know if you actually are or if he just wishes you were. Slowly but surely you begin to add more weight, and more, and more. After a few minutes it’s noticeable the way you’re perfectly rubbing your clothed cunt against his restrained boner.

His breath starts picking up, his wood only getting harder as you make it obvious what you’re doing. Your head is still rested on his chest, his heart thumping even louder than before.

You had been doing it for a few minutes now, keeping a steady pace of dry humping this poor, desperate boy. A small whimper escaping his lips as he begins bucking his hips up into yours, moving his hands down to your ass and pulling you closer onto him, his fully hard cock now rubbing perfectly against your swollen bud.

Now you’re both grinding into each other, the friction too much to handle. You need him.

Quickly you pull off of him, letting a whine. Your knees are on either side of his hips, hastily undoing his belt and unbuttoning his jeans. All he can do is look at you in awe, his eyes big and greedy as he watches you slip his pants down. His dick springs out, the tip already red and shining with precum. You slide off your bottoms, revealing your puffy, wet pussy. His length twitches as you position your hole above his needy cock.

Slowly you begin lower yourself onto him, his tip barely brushing your hole while it pulsates on his most sensitive part.

Toby has always been a beat it and get it over with kind of guy, not bothering to even use lotion while watching porn; so now, you slowly sliding down his girth makes it difficult not to cum immediately.

Your hole clenches around him while you take your time adjusting, his throbbing cock making you want to slam down on it. He stretches you good, but the pain can’t compare to the pure nirvana of him being inside you.

It’s half way in, just almost hitting your cervix. His heavy breaths have turned into pants, sweet little whines in between while you slide down.

“H-mghn… Y-y-y/n- please-“ His voice is a pure whine as he begs for more, his attempts to buck up into you stopped by your hands pushing his hips down to the seat.

The tip finally hit your sweet spot, your hips rolling against his as you adjust to the girth. You start picking up your pace, shamelessly riding him as you feel your high coming to a breaking point. It’s obvious his is too, his mouth agape while he pants and whimpers incoherent pleads.

Your climax comes crashing down over you, riding out your high on his twitching dick, your once freezing face now dripping with sweat. Toby came right after, his cum spilling out of you as you pulled off of him.

The car’s windows were completely unusable, the condensation too thick to see through. Small droplets of water formed and raced down, your body heats immediately filling the streak.

Toby’s dazed panting below you, eyes fluttering open and shut with every breath, his shaky hands still holding onto your hips as you lay back down with him.

A loud knock on the window startled the two of you, Tim’s voice breaking the silence.

“You better be clothed when you come out of there.”

Together you both gather your clothes and redress, stepping out of the humid vehicle into the baby blizzard. Tim’s car is pulled over to the side of the road in the distance, his headlights flashing.

You and Toby stumble behind him, your legs weak and unstable. At least you stayed warm.

❤︎︎❥❤︎︎❥❤︎︎❥❤︎︎❥❤︎︎❥❤︎︎❥❤︎︎

Kinktober Masterlist

Creepypasta Masterlist

[always-just-red]

I NEED some angst+comfort with Zayne PLEASE. It could be anything, the reader being run over in front of him, him being stressed about work and being mean to the reader... Literally anything

This was my first request, so thank you so much! I started this last night with a cup of tea and an "I'm sure I can manage some angst for Zayne, why not?" sort of attitude, and it culminated with me evil laughing to myself at 3am. Enjoy I guess? 😭

Reserved

Zayne x Reader ❄

Summary: You've been looking forward to this dinner with Zayne for a week, but it seems he has other priorities.

Genre: angst, SO MUCH angst (but sshhhh... we save it with some comfort... 👀)

Warnings/Additional tags: established relationship, fluff, uses of y/n, reader is feeling neglected, Zayne gets a tiny bit mean

| Word count: 1.2k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

“Zayne… c’mon. Let’s go.”

You feel like a child, whining for what feels like the hundredth time in the last half hour, but you’ve little else left to do. You’re perched on Zayne’s desk, having long ago lost respect for the sanctity of his workspace, and you pout as you stare down at the phone in your palm. The screen is lit up by a reminder you’d set a week ago: Reservation. The Cerulean. 8 o’clock.

It’s 8:25, and you’ve snoozed it five times already— each time more pointedly than the last.

“Just a minute,” Zayne mumbles.

“You said that an hour ago!”

The man hums in acknowledgment, but he doesn’t look up from his computer. His face is bathed in the ghoulish light of the screen, his glasses shining as he dips his head— just a fraction— to glance at the paperwork spread before him. You give him his minute: let second after second tick by, though you mark each one with an idle tap on the desk’s cold surface.

A murmur: “Stop that, please.” His patience is thinning too.

You’re feeling petty, because you’ve been listening to the patter of his keyboard forever and it’s driving you insane. You purse your lips and tap louder. One second. Tap. Two seconds. Tap. Three. Tap. Tap. Tap.

“Stop it.” Zayne’s hand catches yours, his grip soft, but his face stern.

And he still won’t look at you.

He releases your hand, and his dutiful fingers are back to their post, pattering away. With a huff, you come away from his desk, stalking past him to the window, where you fold your arms and study the barren street below. The view is obscured by the dark and the drops of rain that carve hazy trails down the glass. You can just about make out a couple, emerging from the hospital’s entrance. No uniforms. A patient and their other half, and they’re leaning on each-other— no— pushing each-other, competing for the cover of an umbrella that’s much too small. They’re laughing, you think.

Your chest aches.

“Zayne,” you press.

His chair rolls back, wheels harsh on the floor, and he’s standing, logging out of his computer with a final, few clacks. “I’m done,” he snaps, but his tone says otherwise. He tugs his coat from the back of his chair. “We can go.”

…

You sit on the edge of the wet pavement, rain seeping from your hair and soaking the fabric of your clothes. You should be cold, but you’re not. You’re nothing. Your eyes are cast downwards and all you see is grey, though it’s illuminated by an orange glow.

Behind you, light bleeds through the windows of a busy restaurant. Zayne is still in there, playing diplomat. Playing doctor: always trying to fix things.

Your phone buzzes, and you slip it from its home in your coat pocket. There’s a message: having fun? Then another: ur welcome, miss bodyguard.

Rafayel. He knows a guy who knows the guy who owns this place, so you’d called in a favour. You and Zayne had been drowning in work for a week: him, overwhelmed by new patients at the hospital, and you, out hunting the wanderers that had put them there. Linkon is getting worse. Everything is getting worse, and you just wanted one, single night for yourself.

Well, not just yourself.

The monotonous drum of the rain breaks to the creak of an opening door, but you don’t react. “Y/N?” Zayne sounds far away. “Where did you— Y/N!?”

Footsteps echo on the pavement behind you, splitting puddles, and the orange light is gone. You’re trapped by a shadow that’s talking, speaking your name, but you pretend you can’t hear it. Let him say it a hundred times. A thousand; you can wait.

“Just a minute,” you lilt, your voice dripping spite.

You’re going to sit here for an hour.

“Y/N…” The doctor is oh so patient. “Please get up. You’ll catch a cold if you—”

“Good!” you spit, rounding on him. “Then why don’t I check myself into the hospital? Maybe then you’ll actually think about me once in a while!”

Zayne is towering over you: a small, wet, pathetic little thing, but you still make him draw back. His virescent eyes are wide, his lips parted ever so slightly. He almost always knows what to say, but this is an exception.

After a long moment, he moves around you. Slowly, he lowers himself to sit at your side.

“Do you have any idea,” you start, staring out across the slick road, “how selfish you make me feel? How much I hate myself when I… when I ask you to…”

The confession catches in your throat. It hurts, but you force it out anyway:

“What you do is so important, Zayne. You’re saving lives. You’re giving people back to their families, their loved ones, and you’re amazing for that. I think you’re amazing for that. But I miss you. It feels like I have to share you with the rest of the world, and I know I have no right to ask it, but sometimes? Sometimes I just… want you to be mine.”

You’re looking down, now. Hugging your knees— burying your face, so he won’t see you cry. There’s rain and salt in your mouth, and you wish he would say something. Anything. 

You have to wait a few seconds, but then you feel it: something heavy being draped over your shoulders. His coat. Then his arm is around you, drawing you close, closer, until you’re nestled against his chest.

“You have every right to ask,” he soothes, his tone so warm when it’s compensating for the rest of him. “I am yours, Y/N. I will always be yours.”

“But your work—”

“Can wait,” he finishes for you. “I know I forget that sometimes. And I’m sorry. But you?”

He lifts your chin, gazing down at you with something you can only describe as adoration.

“There is nothing in this world more important to me than you.”

Your heart flutters at the words and the feathery touch of his thumb on your cheek, wiping away a tear. It’s futile in a downpour, but it still makes you smile. Rain is spattering on your forehead, some dripping from his now-soaked hair, and you laugh as he tries to dry your face with his sleeve.

“You’re important to me, too,” you manage between chuckles, “and I’m sorry, too.” Your cheeks are flushed, even in the cold. “Let’s go home, yeah?”

“No.” A statement: not up for debate. Zayne untangles your limbs from his as he helps you stand. “We have a reservation.”

“We had a reservation. They gave away our table, Zayne.”

“Did they?”

There’s a hint of smugness. “Wait… what did you—”

He nods at the restaurant, and you follow his glistening gaze to where a waiter is holding the door— a menu clutched above his head, shielding him from the rain. He’s looking back at you. Waiting.

“Rafayel isn’t the only one with friends in high places,” Zayne smiles, leaning down to speak into your ear, and it makes you shiver. “The head chef is a friend of mine. I saved his brother’s life, you know.”

[fairlyang]

Missing You 🕷️

w/c: 944

tags: 18+ smut. mig's turn, masturbating, realization, teasing, down horrendous, phone sex, mutual masturbation,

part one

imagine going on about your day but unlike miguel you don’t let him get a word in because you need to say every single detail or else you’ll forget things. so you don’t even question why he isn’t responding just assuming he’s politely listening like always.

but in reality he's stroking himself, listening to you ramble. 

he couldn't help it. he was just like you in the sense that he loved, loved your voice.

he couldn't help if he got turned on just by hearing your pretty voice. it was so soft and sweet in his ear, how could he possibly be blamed when he gets hard just hearing it? 

you were oblivious to the fact that he wasn't really listening, keeping your story going while he stroked himself over his sweats. he was already so hard and leaking precum through his boxers. 

he laid his head back against his headboard and closed his eyes, imagining it was your hand slowly stroking him and not his own. he bit his lip to keep quiet and slid his hand under his sweats, starting to stroke himself over his boxers. 

he's missed you so fucking bad, his own hand was practically useless but for the time being, he genuinely had no other choice but to use it. if it were up to him, he'd have you jerking him off while he sucked on your tits. or he'd be between your legs and eating you out for hours because he's missed being there desperately. 

what he's missed the most is being inside you. it's been too long he swore he forgot how you felt. how you squeezed him to perfection. how you let out those beautiful moans and cries for him. 

his hand finally went under his boxers and he didn't wait a singular second to jerk himself off fast. he nearly let out a moan but he disguised it for a cough. his eyes shot open when you stopped talking for a second, not catching the moan but instead hearing the sounds of him masturbating. it was identical to how it was just a few days ago so it was hard to miss.

you stifle a laugh and grin, "aww did someone miss me?" you teased, making him roll his eyes and groan. 

"so happy to hear it baby." you say with a little giggle. 

he couldn't help but grin, he didn't think he'd be the one who'd get so turned on just from a normal conversation, now he didn't have anything to have other over your head. "been missing you so much nena.. couldn't help it." 

you swore under your breath and quickly got into a comfortable position so you could join him. "ahora somos iguales huh?" you tease earning yourself a chuckle from him. (now we're the same huh?"

"pues ya que…" he joked, making you roll your eyes. (i guess…)

somehow having the upperhand wasn't enough to help your case but help his. 

after a few seconds you both started to touch yourselves, trying to hear the noises the other would make but you were both too quiet. finally he sighed and just admitted defeat because he wanted to hear you already. "si somos iguales y te necesito aquí ahora mismo." he murmured, it coming out nearly as a desperate plead. (yes we are the same and I need you here, right this moment) 

"fuck-" you moaned and he was somehow already able to hear your wetness in the background.

"estoy contando los días…" he murmured and started stroking himself faster. (I'm counting down the days.)

"I am too baby.. wish you were in our bed." you whimpered, making him groan. 

"yeah? where would you want me?" he asks breathlessly, feeling himself getting closer to the edge just from hearing everything from your side of the line.

everything was practically crystal clear and it drove him insane. 

"on top of me." you cried and the noises only got louder. 

and before he could ask you to be more specific, you kept going, "wanna hold you close while you fuck me."

the moan that came out of him sent shivers down your spine and to your core. spending so much time apart was driving you both insane and all you needed was each other but you still had to wait a few days. 

it was torture.

luckily this was the next best thing and you both had strong voice kinks so these calls were able to help your urge to not just beg for him to come home. he'd do it in a heartbeat which was the problem, he needed to finish his job.

so you'd both torture yourselves by just getting off together. making each other moan and praying the days would go by faster.

continuing the back and forth of dirty exchanges just to make your need for one another even worse.

"doing so good for me baby." he purred, closing his eyes once again and envisioning you on top of him. 

he needed you in every position as soon as he could get to you, he's missed it all. 

his hand went even faster and your moans were becoming louder, just the motivation he needed. 

his orgasm quickly came when you whimpered out his name and let out the most needy moans he's ever heard. that coil in his stomach erupted and he spilled his load over his stomach, and the last bit of it on his thighs. 

he tried to calm his breathing as he heard you also having an orgasm. loud moans and desperate pleas to come home filled his ears and he nearly came for a second time.

[kinda-indecisive]

･˳ . ⋆ .˳⋆ Face Kisses pt. II ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳

Basically how I imagine their reactions to an onslaught of face kisses from you (MC). Fluff.

Part 2: The Rafayel and Sylus Edition!

+:★:+* *+:★:+* +:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+* *+:★+:★:+* *+:★

Rafayel

Enjoying the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest against your ear, you are already comfortably nestled into your spot on his lap, arms lazily hung around his neck as he continues to flip quietly through the gallery catalog over your head.

A catalog Thomas had sent Rafayel to review a week ago, which you feel kinda guilty about.

Usually, Thomas can trust you to keep Raf in check, pushing him to slough through the boring stuff so that the two of you can spend the rest of your time together doing other, more exciting things. This past week, however, you had been having a really frustrating time dealing with a particularly nasty group of Wanderers that kept reappearing at the most inopportune times and locations. And, when you showed up in his studio, he noticed something was off instantly.

He’d taken it on as his duty to pull you out of your slump of frustration, dragging you from marketplace to marketplace, shop to shop, beach to beach, hoping to get your mind off of those “creativity sucking Wanderers with bad attitudes”. And that was just on the first day. All week, he’s been there the second you wake up, chattering excitedly about where you two were off to next. And, in all honesty, having him around has kinda helped.

And although you didn’t say it out loud, he sensed this, too. Hence the only reason he has finally given you a second to breathe, curled up in his lap on the sofa, the beach breeze gently blowing at the white curtains, and the only other movement in the room being his occasional page turning.

When he hums softly in disdain at something, you are snapped out of your comfy daze.

You really do appreciate how much effort he puts in to make you feel better at times like these. And even though he insists on brushing it off as no big deal (“I already needed to make a trip to this shop, cutie, you just saved me from having to go alone” ), you know that his actions have always spoken much louder, and much more clearly, than his words.

Your heart nearly bursts at how true the thought is and you shift in his lap to look down at him.

He groans loudly, setting the catalog aside, his eyebrows furrowed as he pouts up at you, “Why are you moving around so much? I was perfectly comfortable staying how we were before and I’ll never get any work done if you keep squirming…”

He continues to pout, even when you take his face between your palms. Such a nice face belonging to someone with such a good heart. An absolutely gorgeous face, even if he does keep that indignant little scowl and crease between his brows.

You kiss this space between his brows first, which makes his eyebrows raise in surprise. But before he even has a chance to collect himself from this initial surprise, you continue planting small kisses to cover the rest of his face, making sure to leave no space neglected.

“Alright, alright,” he says once you’ve already finished, clearing his throat and turning his face away, “You’re treating me like some kind of puppy. I’m not your pet, y’know.”

He crosses his arms over his chest and pretends to be annoyed, his face still turned away. His refusal to look you in the eye, however, only gives you a better view of his bright red ears and cheeks, betraying exactly how he feels about the attention he just received.

“Oh? Well, I guess if you didn’t like that, I shouldn’t do it ever again. I admittedly still don’t know much about what kind of behavior is accepted in Lemuria. And I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable or anything,” you say, pretending to get up from his lap.

He catches your wrist and gently pulls you back down, giving you that signature head tilt and grin when he reassures you.

“Aw, well, I get it. You are still pretty new to this Lemurian thing. Besides, it wasn’t too horrible,” he says, his hair falling in front of his eyes. He swipes it away nonchalantly, continuing, “I could maybe suffer through such treatment once or twice a month. Or a week. Or even once a day if you really felt the strong desire to. You humans and your customs are weird, but I can be a good sport about some of them.”

“No, no, there’s no need,” you continue to tease, pretending to stand once again, “I really should be more mindful when it comes to these kinds of things.”

“No, I insist. As a matter of fact…” he says, catching your wrist again and tugging you back down to sit in his lap, simultaneously managing to wrap his arms around you to prevent you from getting up again, “...dontcha think it’s my turn to give this newfound custom a try?”

+:★:+* *+:★:+* +:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+* *+:★+:★:+* *+:★

Sylus

When you arrive at the N109 Zone, it’s almost noon. Therefore you aren’t surprised that Sylus is still in his room, is still asleep, and is not quite ready to compromise that sleep for anyone or anything.

You know that technically doesn’t include you, but you don’t want to ruin his rest, so you leave him be for now. Instead, you decide to check out some more rooms in this grand house.

Your visits to the N109 zone have been much more frequent, despite this past week apart. But before this last week, you had come and gone with a frequency that Sylus had finally seemed pleased with.

In that time, you had familiarized yourself with many of the rooms of this mansion already. That being said, you could almost swear that Sylus brought in something new every single day, so there’s always something new to discover on your visits.

And now you find yourself faltering before a suit of armor you hadn’t noticed before. It must have been pure white at one time, but now has gone dark from wear, age, and transportation. The armor wasn’t made for someone of Sylus’s size, and you wonder what about it made him want to add it to his collection. You try to resonate with it to get something off of it, but nothing really happens.

Soon, however, you grow tired of the silent house and the suit of armor. You figure that a small nap never hurt anyone. Besides, it feels like you haven’t seen Sylus in ages, even though it’s only been a week. A long, tedious week of Wanderers and stuck up clients who you sometimes thought about leaving to fend off the Wanderers themselves.

Slipping into his bedroom, his bedside lamp is on. The dim light casts strange shadows around the room, but softly illuminates the man on the bed.

Walking around the bed, you crawl onto the mattress and begin to make yourself comfy, trying to do it slowly so you don’t disturb he who breathes deeply beside you. Once settled, you roll over to face him.

His normally strong features look so soft in this lighting, and his brow is furrowed slightly in his sleep, his expression one of a man concerned. Your heart aches a little as you realize just how much you’ve missed him this week despite trying to convince yourself you were better off without his incessant teasing. Reaching out, you mean to brush your fingertips over his cheekbones, but you suddenly hesitate before touching him. He sleeps so lightly sometimes and you don’t want to be the reason he can’t fall back to sleep.

But it’s already too late.

That frown of concern shifts into confusion as his eyes open—the color as bright and striking as ever—then relief when he sees you, sleepily taking your hand in his own and intertwining your fingers. Rolling onto his side, he smiles faintly at the sight of you tucked in beside him.

“I’m not dreaming, am I, sweetie?” he murmurs, his already deep voice even deeper with sleep, “It’s been 8 days and a few hours since I saw you last.”

“You keep count?” you tease as he brings your wrist to his lips.

“Maybe I do,” he says with a huff and a shrug, his still-heavy eyelids closing again. You know he isn’t asleep, however, by the sound of his annoyed grunt when you try to slip your hand out of his grasp, “Leaving already?”

“No, I just want to get more comfortable.”

His eyes still closed, he allows you to take your hand back. You start to settle in beside him, but thinking about how lovely and worried he’d looked when you first came in, you suddenly have an idea to hopefully help soothe whatever dreams he’d been having.

His brow furrows again when you take his face in-between your hands, but a smug little smile is quick to replace it as you place feather-light little kisses against every inch of his face.

He sinks deeper into the mattress as you do, his entire body relaxing as you surge with gratitude for the fact that he shares this vulnerable side with you and only you. By the time you finish, his smug smile has faded softly as he dozes off and on again.

“Hmm? Is that all?” he hums. Rolling your eyes, you chuckle, sliding back into the blankets, grabbing his arm and drawing it around you as well. Nuzzling his nose against the back of your neck, he murmurs with a voice as smooth as velvet, “Thank you, sweetie. It’s been a hell of a week and I needed that.”

“Don’t be silly,” you murmur, “Now go back to sleep, Sylus.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 1: Xavier and Zayne Edition

A Short Little Tag List! 💕 (I hope you enjoy :))

@lemurianmaster @myeagleexpert

[golden-moony]

king of my heart | pt. 2

pairings: lando norris x fem!reader | pato o'ward x fem!reader

warnings: love triangle? kinda.

author's note: go get some popcorn cause we have some drama here🍿... and it's a long part, so enjoy!!

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

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

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, isahernaez, frosenqvist, and 79,121 others!

yourusername Miami GP over and out ✅🏁 No words could ever explain just how grateful I am for all of you and for the opportunity that I get to cover this amazing sport with such incredible people by my side. Thank you for everything Miami, I hope to see you again soon! 🌴💖

user1 the power she holds 🙌

user2 she's really living my dream 🥹

lissiemackintosh so happy to be able to share this with you!! love u❤️

yourusername we really need to do this more often😘 love u too! user3 y/n and lissie hosting track tv together is my new roman empire fr user4 SLAY QUEENS!! user5 the queens are thriving user6 i wanna be friends with them so bad 😫

user7 omg girl you're STUNNING

user8 BEST F1 WAG

user9 facts facts facts user10 she's not even a wag lol it's so obvious lando just keeps this nobody around for when he's bored and horny user11 user10 this "nobody" has done SO much in terms of women representation in motorsport, she's hardworking and a lovely woman. meanwhile, you're just a sad little person who's jealous of her because she's successful and close to your crush, who doesn't even know who you are. so get a life and stop embarrassing yourself. user12 user11 SAY IT LOUDER 👏 user13 user11 PREACH!!!

user14 i don't know if i wanna be her or be with her😩

user15 this is such a mood tbh

landonorris so proud of you, boo😍

yourusername 🥰🧡 user16 YNLANDO NATION WE WON user17 we love a supporting boyfriend 🤩 user18 i want what they have, your honor user19 is this considered a soft launch or what? user20 y'all are delulu😂 it's so obvious they're just friends user21 user20 girl being delulu is the solulu 🙌

user22 so when are we gonna talk about felix liking the post?

user23 i'm lost sorry, who's felix? user24 user23 he's pato's teammate in indycar and one of his besties user25 if felix liked then WHERE'S PATO user26 user25 doing more important things than being focused on this girl.

lilymhe such a pretty girl 💗

alex_albon should i be jealous? yourusername you should indeed. can u fight? user24 the friendship i didn't know i needed 🥹 user25 MY FAV WAGS INTERACTING YAY

user26 f1 is so lucky to have you!!!

user27 LOOOL why would they be lucky to have her?😂😂😂 she's nothing special user28 user27 and yet she's still rising 💅 user29 user27 then why are you even on her post? lol obsessed much?

user30 my role model ❤️‍🩹

📞 incoming call

[y/n; normal] [pato; cursive]

"...Hello? Did you butt-dialed me or something?"

"Uhm, hi. It's not a butt-dial. I-I actually just wanted to talk to you. Hear your voice, y'know. I've been kinda missing you."

"Oh really? And here I was thinking that your cold behavior toward me over the past three weeks meant that you didn't want anything to do with me. Silly me, I guess."

"I-I'm... [sighs]. That's what I wanted to talk to you about, actually. About the way I've been treating you. I'm sorry, y/n. I really am sorry. I know I've been a total jerk-"

"Yeah, you can put it that way."

"...I've been a total jerk and I regret it very much. You didn't deserve it at all. I just- I'm not trying to excuse my awful behavior but I just think I got- Uhm..."

"You got what?"

"Well... I saw Lando's instagram story when you went back to Monaco, as you've probably already figured it out. And I think- Well... I got jealous. And I know it probably sounds stupid now but at the time it felt like a punch in the face."

"Pato..."

"I know I didn't and still have absolutely no business to be jealous about you and Lando, cause you and I are not dating or anything and you don't owe me any kind of explanation about the type of relationship you have with him. But after the great time we spend together in Long Beach... I don't know, it just hurted seeing you with him. But that doesn't excuse anything and I just regret so much the way I've been treating you since then, it hasn't been fair to you at all."

"And it didn't cross your mind that we could have had this conversation way before now? I mean, you waited three weeks to finally talk to me like a decent human being, how-"

"I know and I'm so-"

"Let me finish."

"Sorry, go on."

"However, I do appreciate that you're finally acknowledging all of this and communicating with me like an actual adult. I know it's not always easy to do. And although I don't owe you any kind of explanation, I just want you to know that there's nothing going on between Lando and me."

"So you and him...?"

"We're friends and that's it. We care for each other but there's nothing going on."

"Oh... well, thanks for clarifying that for me."

"Yeah, yeah. You'll have to work harder for my forgiveness, anyway. I appreciate the call but it won't be that easy for you."

"Is that so?"

"You've heard me."

"In that case, what would you say if I invite you for a few days to come here to Punta Mita? Maybe that'll help me a little to earn your forgiveness."

"... I'm sorry, what!?"

"You've heard me."

"You're joking. You have to be joking."

"I'm not joking. You're still in Miami, right?"

"I am..."

"Great! My brother in law is in Miami too and he'll take the jet tomorrow morning. If you want to, you can join him and come here with him! We'd be thrilled to have you here too."

"Oh my God... Pato, I don't know what to say!"

"Say yes and you'd make this birthday boy the happiest man in the world. You'd even make my sister happy, I've been telling her a lot about you and now she's eager to meet you."

"I hope you've been telling her good things about me, then."

"Only the best. She's even on your side, y'know. Said I was being a giant cabrón and needed to make things right. She wasn't wrong tho."

"[giggles] Fine. I'll go, but I'm only doing this for your sister."

"I'll take that anyway! I'll let Brett know you'll join him and I'll send you the details, okay?"

"Okay!"

"Now go and pack your bags for tomorrow."

"Hey! Don't get bosy with me, mister!"

"[Laughs] Fine. Take care, I'll see you tomorrow."

"See you, birthday boy!"

patriciooward posted to his story!

[caption 1; 🦈] [caption 2; beautiful views]

yourusername posted to their story!

[caption 1; para-para-paradise 🌞] [caption 2; in his sharkboy era] [caption 3; 🐶❤️]

paddockgossips

liked by magui_corceiro and 84,091 others!

paddockgossips Among the alleged "breakup" between y/n and Lando, the McLaren driver was photographed last night having fun in a Monaco club in the company of Max Fewtrell and other friends. Some sources have said that Lando seemed very cozy with a blonde woman at the party, whom he later left with. However, we cannot verify this information in any way, so it remains a rumor.

user1 I HAVE A CHANCE AGAIN (i'm delulu)

user2 so this confirms ynlando is over?? 😭

user3 girl i'm devastated 😭😭😭 user4 i'm still in denial user5 well they were never together to begin with user6 user5 THIS!! people act like they were a couple when they NEVER confirmed anything 😂

user7 "blonde woman at the party" "it remains a rumor" and magui goes and like the post LOL

user8 she's so desperate for attention🙄 user9 who's magui??? user10 user9 she's kika's friend and she was dating football player João Félix not so long ago (in fact, i thought they were still together lol) user11 user10 and don't forget she's a cheater. user12 user9 she's trouble

user13 yn >>>>>>>> magui

user14 user13 no need to compare them

user15 sorry but single lando it's so hot 🥵

user16 SO TRUE user17 FACTS he looks so good omfg

user18 in his heartbreaker era 😎

user19 in his reputation era 😎 user20 in his idgaf era 😎

user21 i'm a child of divorce fr

user22 i know y'all love y/n for some reason but i'm SO glad lando finally got away from her.

user23 SAME. and if magui makes him happy then great for him user24 stfu i'm mourning here

user25 y/n this magui that but max was, is and will forever be lando's true wag💅

user26 the one and only indeed

elbaoward posted to her story!

[caption1; off to dinner] [caption2; my love🤍] [caption 3; lovebirds!]

patriciooward

liked by landonorris, yourusername, brettkimbro, and 86,382 others!

patriciooward BDAY WKND DUMP 📸 thank y'all for all the love❤️‍🔥

user1 THE HARD LAUNCH IT'S HARD LAUNCHING

user2 OMG IT'S HAPPENING EVERYBODY STAY CAAAAALM

user3 he really said i'll give you what you want: thrist traps and y/n... and he's so real for that

user4 he really knows his audience user5 king behavior if u ask me user6 everybody say thank you Pato 🙏

user7 YNPATO NATION HOW ARE WE FEELING??

user8 I'M STILL SPEECHLESS user9 they're so perfect i wanna cry😭 user10 LOVE TO SEE🔥

user11 as a ynlando shipper i have to admit they're cute but ngl this still hurts 😩

user12 MOOD user13 ynlando will always be in our hearts 🥺 user14 ynlando >>>>>>>>>> ynpato user15 user13 girl grow up.

user16 THAT SHOULD BE ME

elbaoward where are my credits for the last pic? cuties🤍

user17 u literally gave us the cutest pic ever user18 elba thank you so much for your service🫡 user19 elba is ynpato's #1 fan and you can't tell me otherwise user20 elba is just like us fr user21 LOVE YOU ELBAAAAA 🩷

user22 MOM AND DAD

user23 can't believe how fast she moved on and got together with this dude lol lando really dodged a bullet with her

user24 how fast she moved on?? girl y/n and lando were never even together so stfu user25 ???? why are you even on pato's ig post? go away user26 user23 y/n is such an attention seeker and yet everyone loves her, i'll never understand it 🥱

user27 not to be that person but i would KILL to be that piñata😏

user28 MOOD

frosenqvist oh to be tanned, young and in love

patriciooward 😜 user29 IN LOVE??? FELIX BESTIE TELL US MORE user30 i don't know about y'all but this is all the confirmation i need about ynpato being real, bye user31 i think i can hear the wedding bells user32 user31 yesss and felix as pato's best man

user33 bestie don't be shy and drop more y/n pics 🫶

user34 i second the motion !!!

user35 NOT LANDO LIKING THE POST LOOOOL

user36 he is so unserious i love him user37 ICONIC BEHAVIOR TBH user38 yeah but i just know he's crying inside user39 user38 for what? lol lando knows he's so much better than this cheaper version of him. user40 user39 i'm so done with people like you who insult pato just because you cannot defend lando with good arguments.

yourusername magical weekend 💖

patriciooward with you there? always user41 STOP THEY'RE SO CUTE OMG user42 this is such an upgrade tbh user43 SO HAPPY FOR THEM 🥹 user44 what a bitch.

yourusername posted to their story!

[caption 1; back to reality✈️] [caption 2; I'm a high performance athlete. Athletes sweat. Sweat, baby] [caption 3; cutest model🧡]

paddockgossips

liked by magui_corceiro and 53,237 other people!

paddockgossips NEW WAG ALERT? 🚨 Magui Corceiro, the Portuguese model and actress, attended the Monaco GP after being seen a few days ago having lunch with Lando. It has been rumored that they could be in a relationship, especially since Lando and y/n apparently went different ways, and Corceiro's presence in the paddock has not gone unnoticed by anyone. Still, neither Lando nor Magui have confirmed or denied these rumors.

user1 A TRIGGER WARNING WOULD BE NICE NEXT TIME

user2 um let's hope there isn't a next time user3 user2 let's pray girl, let's pray 🙏

user4 "neither lando nor magui have confirmed or denied these rumors" well that's bs cause she just liked the post

user5 istg she's trying so hard to get attention user6 lando was asked about magui and he said she was just a friend... and then she goes and does this lol what a clout chaser user7 and people used to say that y/n was after lando's fame and yet she NEVER did anything like this user8 she's such a pick me girl

user9 everything i know of this girl has been against my will istg

user10 SAME

user11 oh good luck lando

user12 oh be prepared for the y/n fans and little girls that'll come attack magui when she hasn't even done anything wrong

user13 literally they're just mad at magui cause she's dating their fav driver loool user14 they're only jealous cause magui is a gorgeous woman user15 user14 she's gorgeous but she's still a snake

user16 i'd ask why lando would be with someone like her, but then i remember he's an adult and if he wants someone like her by his side then that's up to him. let's not treat him like a baby please

user17 say👏 it👏 louder👏

user18 weeeeell if this is the kind of people lando likes to have around then i guess y/n really dodged a bullet with him

user19 FACTS user20 i mean at the end of the day he's just another privileged white boy, so🤷‍♀️ user21 i really don't get all the hate that she's getting, is she really that problematic? user22 user21 girl google it yourself but yeah, she is

user23 I MISS MY GIRL Y/N WHERE IS SHEEEEEEEE??

user24 what is she even doing there?

user25 must be cause lando wanted her to be there user26 why y'all never asked the same thing about y/n? y'all are such hypocrites istg user27 user26 cause y/n was actually doing her job????? user28 user26 oh you're stupid 😂😂

user29 magui in the paddock, pato not being able to finish Indy 500... it really is a shitty day huh

user30 DON'T EVEN REMIND ME WHAT HAPPENED WITH PATO OMFG user31 I'M STILL SO MAD ABOUT PATO user32 the only good part is that y/n and his family were there for him ❤️‍🩹

see y'all in part 3!

taglist: @drunkinthemiddleoftheday @evie-119 @evans-dejong @minkyungseokie @noneofyourfbusinessworld @bernelflo @eiaaasamantha @ijustgomessitupx @honethatty12 @daemyratwst @f1fan65

(if you'd like to be tagged in the next part, just let me know in the comments!🧡)

[loveblrrsworld]

CLASSICAL CONDITIONING- m. atsumu

timeskip

[manager y/n pavlov-ed that hoe]

“hello?” a groggy voice answered.

“tooru i need help.” you spoke.

“it’s 4 in the morning.” oikawa replied, slight annoyance in his voice.

“i think i have feelings for atsumu.”

he quickly sits up. “i knew it!”

you stay quiet, phone still up to your ear. “what?”

“god y/n, the way you talk about him makes it so obvious.” oikawa scoffs.

“i talk about him a certain way?” you started to question yourself.

“you talk about him like he’s your husband.” he deadpanned.

“well… i guess we now know why.” you awkwardly laughed.

“so what did you need my help for?” he asks.

“i don’t know, i just need to get rid of these feelings.” you shrug.

he stays silent for a couple seconds. “what?!”

“what?”

“why don’t you just— i don’t know, tell the man?!” he exclaimed.

“well, im not sure if he feels the same way.” you sigh.

he sighs louder. “then there’s only one way to figure this out.”

you stay silent, waiting for him to continue.

“classical conditioning.”

your face holds a confused expression. “that pavlov thing?”

“do you do something to him everyday? like— a good morning or something?”

you think for a second. “well yeah, every time i arrive, i pat him on his arm and say good morning. why?”

“stop doing it for a week. if he notices then there’s a chance he likes you back. but just to be clear im no psychologist so don’t trust me.” he says. “good luck, babe. let me know how it goes!”

“this is so not going to work.”

“oh but it will.”

“good morning guys!” you greet everyone as you enter the gym. they all mutter tired greetings as you walked past each of them. completely walking past atsumu.

he pauses what he’s doing for a second. he looks at you as you’re mindlessly doing your own thing, not even glancing at him.

he ultimately shrugged it off, thinking, “maybe she forgot.” plus— it’s such a small gesture why would he care?

oh but he does.

a week passes and not a single pat from you. a stupid pat you’ve been doing for 5 months. why is he so bothered that you aren’t doing it?

you seem to be talking normally to him. none of your actions scream— “im pissed at you.” so what the hell is going on?

it’s the seventh day, the early morning where it was only you and him alone in the gym, he finally speaks up.

“wait.” he stops you. you turn around, waiting for him to speak. “why’d you stop doing that thing?”

no way. play dumb. “what thing?”

“that pat you do when you greet me in the morning. you stopped doing it.” he says.

you laugh. “i didn’t know you cared that much about those pats.”

he scoffs. “how could i not? im the only one you do that to!” he pauses. “so why’d you stop?”

so, this is the one error oikawa made on this stupid experiment. what the hell are you supposed to say?

“i dunno, i guess i just forgot.” you quickly replied, immediately trying to walk away.

“lies.” he playfully said before getting up and following you. “tell me the truth.”

you stop, turn around and stare at him. “i did tell you the truth.”

he rolls his eyes. “how could you forget a small action you’ve been doing for the past 5 months? hm?”

the smug look on his face only made him look more attractive. he steps closer and closer to you, taking advantage of the empty gym.

“i-“ you breath. “i don’t know.”

“oh c’mon y/n, tell me!”

you bite the inside of your cheek, hoping it holds you back from saying the truth.

“fine. if i tell you why im so bothered, will you tell me why you stopped?” he proposes.

your eyebrows furrow as you slowly nod.

“okay. well— i like it. i like it because im the only one who gets that pat. i like it because it genuinely is something i look forward to in the morning, and i like it because it gives me hope that you possibly like me back.”

your eyes widen at the last couple words he spoke. “say that again…” you said, a little breathless.

he chuckles at your expression, holding a small smile. “i like you y/n. everything you do, i look forward to because i like you.”

you don’t say anything but move forward, stepping closer to him, grabbing his collar and intertwining your lips with him.

and of course, he doesn’t protest.

his lips melt perfectly into yours as you wrapped your arms around his neck, his hands mounting themselves on your waist.

you both pull away after a moment, a little breathless.

“i like you too.” you say with a smile.

and then you hear a throat being cleared.

you both look to your right, seeing the whole team with a look of “finally.” on their faces.

“about time.”

“well your experiment worked. congrats doc.” you laugh as you ponder about the events earlier.

“i can feel your ugly smile through the screen.” oikawa jokes.

“no congratulations?”

“congrats! hope its a boy!”

“ugh! tooru it seriously felt surreal…”

he laughs as you continue your small tangent about your newly found reciprocated feelings with atsumu.

about time.

[kissforyouu]

sanrio shopping with jungkook!

pairing : jungkook x sanrio girl!oc

genre : fluff

a/n : this fic was inspired by those "hello kitty shopping for my gf" videos on tiktok!! (i turned out to not like this very much but eh i'm posting it anyway😭)

unedited.

'"ah? then what happened?" jungkook hums to his phone.

"gguk, turns out, they were talking about the same guy! can you believe that? we all were flabbergasted. i can't believe he managed to fool both of them like that." you babbled.

"oh— oh!—and you know what? that guy, whatever his name is, apparently he has his own girlfriend. my friend found out." coming to a state of shock, jungkook suddenly gasps. and because he gasps, you gasp. out of habit, you guess.

that makes jungkook giggle a little. "cute", he thinks.

"how'd he manage to fool everyone? does his girlfriend know?" his tone is curious.

"mh, don't know. i'll find out and let you know!" you exclaim.

"find out?", jungkook is in disbelief, "how're you gonna find out, baby?"

"oh, i have connections. can easily find anything out, just need to ask someone or just check instagram!" you felt as if you were spilling a super confidential secret to your boyfriend. it made you mentally giggle.

"what? so you're saying you can find all the gossip out?" he scoffs, grip tightening around the wheel to make a turn.

"uhhuh! ...i mean, anything within my reach. you just have to search a little."

"okay, baby detective." he says with a small smile on his face.

"pfft!" you shout through the phone.

jungkook grins, eyes rolling jokingly.

"by the way, baby detective, i've got to go. just arrived at the convenience store. also, want anything?" he asks you like he usually does.

"mmmm...", you take a few seconds to think, "just want the usual." you answer.

"okay baby. a strawberry milk and those cookies. got it." jungkook makes a mental note to go buy those as well while he bids goodbye to his pretty little girlfriend who was across the line.

the man groans, getting out of the car with a small stretch. jungkook walks in the convenience store as he goes through each aisle, piling his cart with everything he needed, but also making sure to buy you your little snack.

once he was done, he leisurely gets his groceries checked out at the cashier and then loaded into the trunk of his car.

while humming some random tune, jungkook happily restarts his engine to get on the road again. but instead of going back home, he makes a turn to drive to his favourite shop.

that stop onwards, jungkook stops at various shops with sanrio items and all sorts of cute stuff his girlfriend likes.

"childish", he would call you each time, but he couldn't help but love the way the corners of your eyes would crinkle up whenever he bought you something, or the way you'd have the biggest prettiest smile on your face and how your eyes would sparkle. his favourite was the little rewards you'd give him after, the countless amount of little kisses being planted on his face!

his pretty little girlfriend (you;)) would giggle while doing so and that would make him giggle even louder back. nothing better than a happy girlfriend. anything to see your smile.

so he buys a bunch of pink plushies, sanrio plushies—mainly cinnamonroll and my melody, your favourites, a random pair of hello kitty socks, necklaces and all sorts of kinds. his favourite purchase being the pink hello kitty football.

why did he even buy that? what would you even do with a football? you don't enjoy sports, you'd rather read a book while listening to music. sometimes he'd wonder what was the reason for all these "unnecessary equipments". seriously, why does it have to in be some sort of a theme? why can't you just use a normal football? but when it came to his girlfriend, though, he'd buy her a pink themed island if he could.

what a caring, sweet, considerate boyfriend he is!

*beep!* *beep!*

the cashier's machine beeps, displaying the amount to be paid on the screen. jungkook pulls out his wallet, fully black with a pink shaped heart pin with the description "I ♡ my gf" stapled on to it, which was obviously given to him by non other than you.

another thing about jungkook was the fact that he'll always keep these little charms you would give him. true, he'd joke around saying he'll throw it away but oh god, knowing jungkook, who was on his knees whipped for his girlfriend, would never ever in a million years throw away something his girlfriend gave him. jungkook will make sure to keep it with him always. whipped man.

with a swift movement of his credit card on the card machine, the cashier hands jungkook back his card as well as the items he purchased. your boyfriend's already thinking about the big smile you're going to have on your face as he gets right back inside the car, finally making his way home. meanwhile, you also make sure to spam the man on messages asking him where he was and that you missed him.

by no time, jungkook was already at your place. he quickly opens the trunk, taking out all the stuff he had gotten you. both his hands were occupied with carrying the bags as he made his way inside your house, greeting your parents with a smile and a bow then entering your room.

and there you were, his pretty baby, writing something on your notebook while hugging your legs upto your chest while being seated on your chair.

"jungkook!" immediately, you squeel, just happy to see your boyfriend.

"y/n/n!" he squeals back to match your energy.

jungkook walks around your room to place the bags on your bed. curiously, your eyes follow the mysterious (read:not) bags and his hands, already recognising the logo of the bag. your favourite sanrio shop!

a cheeky smile creeps upto your face when you realise what's inside. jungkook notices it, almost cracking up a laugh, but shuts down fast enough. you both give eachother the eye, paralinguistically communicating.

"...gguk..." your nose was scrunched slightly, lips in the form of a duck's and your eyes were lit up.

"yeah, yeah", he rolls his eyes playfully, "come look at what i got you", he snickers.

excitedly, you get up from your seat and make your way to sit next to your boyfriend with a shy smile.

you weren't normal this much shy around him. i mean, you were, to a certain extent, but whenever he got you something you'd get all giddy and shy like a little girl having her first crush. you never pressure him into buying you things, though, he just always insists on buying you this and that. you've given up on telling him no. plus, i mean, if he really wants to...hehe.

"got you these uuhh...plushies. this guy's your favourite, yeah." he pulls out the cute cinnamonroll plushie, throwing it at you.

you catch it immediately, hugging it closer to your chest and snuggling into your boyfriend's meaty arm.

you take the bag from jungkook, digging it and pulling out all the goods.

your lips tremble, a loud laugh bursting out of you the moment you find the hello kitty football.

"what's this? this is so random?" you laugh.

"to be honest, i don't know the purpose of this, it's useless. why a hello kitty one? just buy a normal football?" he rolls his eyes, leading backwards while balancing his body with his forearms.

"mhm, then why'd you buy it?"

"cause you'll like it." his answer melts your heart.

you throw the ball at him, watching it bounce away effortlessly.

"awww, gguk." you coo at him.

you pull your boyfriend closer by his ears, then planting a big fat kiss on his forehead.

here comes the kisses, my favourite part, — jungkook thinks.

"my babyyy!" you pull him to your chest, fingers ruffling his hair while you planted kisses on the top of his head. jungkook loved buying you gifts, just for this reason. it's not like you never showed him affection without him buying you gifts, you most certainly did, but he just can't forget that big fat smile on your face whenever you unbox your gifts. plus. he always believed that it was important to buy your girlfriend everything she liked. that was just his point of view. and he stood by that.

"you know damn well you're the baby here—" his voice was muffled by your chest while you were aggressively kissing all over him. fingers tugging onto his socks locks, you pull on his hair as well, just full on baby-ing your boyfriend.

well, you most certainly would not harshly pull on a baby's hair and aggressively kiss them, but eh, close enough.

"god, y/n—"

"muah, muah, mwah, mwwaah!" wet kisses were being planted all across his face.

you push him down to the bed, his body fully laid back on the bed now with you on top of him, repeatedly kissing his face everywhere.

jungkook held you by your waist, letting you do whatever you wanted. this is why he did it anyway.

you place one last kiss right over his eyebrow, pulling away with a big smile.

"mmm, one more..." his eyes are closed, lips in a faint smile as he points at his face.

"mmm," you coo, "okay, where?"

"on my dick."

you groan at his words, turning around and about to get off of him before jungkook catches you, his happy laugh laugh being heard before he pulls you back to his chest.

"joking, joking." he reassures you.

your body was laid on top of him, face inches away from his. jungkook brushes away a few strands falling onto your face and tucks it behind your ear. you soothe into his touch, absolutely loving this feeling.

"here." he taps his lips.

happily, you grab his face with your palms and lean in to deliver a big fat kiss just the way he wanted.

[sugrhigh]

BOY NEXT DOOR 10 - ( c.s )

part nine

summary- you and your roommates live beside a bunch of senior hockey players, one of them being the infamous team captain chris sturniolo. he’s effortlessly flirty and undeniably attractive, but he’s also a pain in your ass. you find that you have to fight between lust and hatred as you finally get to know the boy next door, whether you want to or not.

warnings- a little angsty, swearing, comfort as well i guess, idk??? nothing crazy

a/n: i liedddd i lied i’m splitting the last part in two bc this became a little longer than anticipated. i hope u are all doing fantastic and i stg i will get the rest of this story out if its the last thing i do LMFAO (next part will give u goblins what you’ve been waiting for hehehehe)

the knocks on your front door start at around six pm the following friday. it’s surprising, because it’s rare that anyone shows up unannounced, especially right before the weekend festivities.

in fact, the last time someone did that was when chris arrived on your front porch with a bouquet of flowers to ask you on a date. you try not to think about it too much as you descend the stairs, focusing on not tripping over your feet instead.

the knocking grows louder, making it clear that whoever is waiting is rather restless.

“i’m fucking coming!” you shout as you make it to the landing, closing the final distance and yanking the door open with a huff.

when you see who it is, you’re even more out of breath. ben and connor stand before you, concern written all over both of their faces. neither of them say anything; they just exchange sheepish glances with one another like they’re unsure where to begin.

“oh—uh…hey guys. what’s up?” you try not to sound too disoriented, even though you are.

“hey…sorry to barge over here like this, i’m sure we’re not really the people you want to be seeing right now.” connor starts, shoving his hands in his pockets as he speaks.

you stay silent, because he’s not really wrong. you know that they have nothing to do with the situation, and you refuse to take it out on them, but seeing chris’s friends is a painful reminder that he still exists.

even though each week becomes a tiny bit more bearable, that doesn’t mean you’re suddenly fine and back to normal.

ben clears his throat, taking over for his friend and cutting to the chase. “look, we really need your help. i swear we wouldn’t be bothering you if it wasn’t serious.”

your eyebrows furrow further, and you’re somehow even more confused than you were when you opened the door. an anxious feeling settles in your stomach, like it’s only going to get worse from here.

“what is it?” you ask hesitantly, because you’re not sure you actually want the answer.

“it’s chris,” connor starts, eyes darting over to their house as he says it, “he’s…i don’t know, he’s just messed up. ever since things ended between the two of you he’s been completely out of it, and now he’s throwing hockey away too.”

you tilt your head to the side. “wait, what do you mean throwing it away?”

”the team confronted him after we lost on sunday and he didn’t want to hear it, so he walked away. we thought he was fronting, that he’d realize he was being an idiot, but he didn’t show up to any of our practices this week and coach is fuckin’ pissed. he won’t talk to us, or listen to anything we’re saying.” ben explains further, waving his hands around in aggravation as he speaks.

horror washes over you when you realize that they probably spoke to him about you, and that the whole team was in on it. you can feel your cheeks heating up in shame just thinking about how that conversation went, which makes you angry.

your voice comes out a lot sharper than intended when you respond. “no offense guys, but i’m not really sure what this has to do with me.”

“kind of, like, everything.” ben shoots back, though he immediately slaps a hand over his mouth once he realizes how he sounds.

connor rolls his eyes and elbows him in the hip, earning a muffled grunt. “what he means to say is that the only person that kid listens to is you. if he doesn’t snap out of it soon and go to the game tomorrow, he's gonna be kicked off the team for good. and as much as you’re on shitty terms, i don’t think you want to see him do that either.”

he’s spot on once again. you’re still hurt, but you can’t bring yourself to truly hate him. hearing that chris is taking this just as hard and is actively fucking up the rest of his career at the most critical time makes your heart feel like it’s suffocating.

you rub your eyes, letting out a long sigh as you begin to mentally prepare yourself for what you’re about to do.

“fine, i hear you, and i’ll talk to him. but i'm not making any promises beyond that.”

they both look so relieved that you actually feel kind of bad. you’re not sure if this is actually going to work, but they’ve clearly been stressing out over their friend for a while now.

you wonder if your own roommates feel the same way about you. they’re out together for happy hour after you insisted on staying home, still not in the mood to socialize. you’ve been trying not to burden them with the massive pressure you‘re feeling all of the time, but they’ve also known you for over three years now.

it’s hard to hide from the people that really know you, which chris clearly understands.

“thank you, seriously. we both owe you major, anything you want for real.” ben praises, hands pressed together as if he’s worshiping.

“yeah, we really appreciate you doing this. i’ve always known you were the best, but you somehow only get better.” connor smiles, a small glimmer of sadness in his eyes.

he straightens up after a moment, nodding over at their place as they begin to retreat. “ben and i are headed out to the bars, so if you’re not up to anything tonight, he’ll be in his room. front door’s open.”

you already feel like you’re floundering, but you nod at the two of them as if you’re just great anyways. what else can you do when you just made a vow to throw your healing out the window?

ben lingers for a moment, staying just close enough so that he can whisper under his breath. “for what it’s worth, you're the best thing that ever happened to chris. and i hope one day he can prove that he knows that too.”

you feel yourself tense up immediately. you have no idea how the hell you’re supposed to respond to that, so you don’t. he gives you a small wave as he finally turns, joining his friend so that they can make their way up the street.

you watch them until they’re gone, still frozen in place. the shock has finally kicked in, and you can’t move.

all you can think about is chris; having to look him in the face again, and listen to him say things to you that you know are going to twist the knife even deeper. it’ll probably undo all of what little progress you’ve made.

but you can’t let him mess everything else up too, not when you still love him so much. there are some things that are worth throwing yourself on the blade for, and this is one of them.

unfortunately or not, you’re going over there, and you’re going to shake some fucking sense into him like you always do.

even if it kills you in the process.

when chris hears the soft tapping on his door, he assumes it’s one of his roommates trying to persuade him off of his war path once again. he’s sprawled out in bed as if there’s not a care in the world, playing endless rounds of fortnite like he has been for the past week.

“i’m not interested in chatting.” he snaps, narrowing his irritated eyes at the tv screen in front of him.

it’s locked anyways, so they can’t get in regardless. and yet, despite this fact, the door swings open a moment later. chris is about to spiral into a complete rage until he actually looks over to see who it is.

you’re standing there with a bent paperclip in hand, a self-satisfied expression plastered on your face.

“so it actually does work, huh?”

for a second he thinks he’s hallucinating. there’s no way that you’re actually here, in his room, cracking a joke about the time that he broke in to talk to you. but he can smell your signature perfume in the air, which convinces him that this is in fact real life.

chris shoots up in bed, messing with his hair self-consciously. a furious blush is creeping up his face, because his room is a fucking disaster zone of clutter and it’s embarrassing. he wasn’t expecting anyone, especially not you.

“um—hi?” it’s more of a question than an actual greeting, even though he didn’t mean for it to come out that way.

“hi.” you reply awkwardly, eyes shifting around his room as you continue to stand in the doorway.

“you can, uh, sit. if you want.” chris stutters, moving his legs so that they’re hanging off his bed.

he straightens his comforter to make room for you, still red with shame about the mess. he has no idea why you’re here, he’s just praying that he doesn’t say anything that’ll scare you away. he wants this moment to last as long as it possibly can.

luckily enough, you actually do end up making your way over, settling on the very edge of his bed. you’re practically falling off it, trying to make sure that you keep as much distance between the two of you as possible. it breaks his heart, but he can’t say he doesn’t understand.

“i’m sure you’re confused, so i’ll just get right to it.” you start, picking at your fingernails so you don’t have to look at him.

the lump in his throat is growing by the second, but instead of showing that, he nods and attempts to choke it back down.

“your friends came over. they’re really worried about you, you know.” you continue carefully.

he barely contains an eye roll, opting to close them for a moment instead as he lets out a small breath. but he understands, seeing as he’s gone completely off the rails.

“i don’t know what to say to that.” chris replies honestly, since he’s apparently lost the ability to talk to you too.

“well, i guess you could start by telling me what the hell is going on, because you pretty much live and breathe for your team.” you’re putting it bluntly now, because you know it won’t get through to him if you don’t.

he rubs a hand over his face, trying to think of the right words. they’re not really there, but it’s been too long of a pause, and he needs to fucking speak like a normal person.

“i…my heart just isn’t in it. i’m playing like shit and it’s better if i don’t bring them down with me.”

you shake your head, completely astounded by the attitude that you’re hearing. “so you’re just going to turn your back now? when you’re weeks away from selection show and so close to a contract?”

he’s defeated; chris doesn’t know what else to do besides throw in the towel, and he also has no idea how to get you to understand that. his shoulders slump slightly as he stares at the floor.

“yeah, i guess i am.”

it’s silent for a moment, which makes him incredibly insecure. then you nudge him with your foot a little, forcing him to look over at you.

“listen, if you don’t want to play hockey anymore, that’s your decision at the end of the day. but i have to be honest with you before you do that.” you start off strong, facing him fully so that you can meet his eyes.

“the first time i ever came to your game, as someone that you actually invited, i saw you. i’d been to games before, but that night i was solely focused on you, as stupid and fucking embarrassing as that is to admit. you were electric out there, chris, and you’ve got so much talent it’s actually a bit ridiculous. i mean, you literally made me fall in love with hockey all over again,” your voice wobbles slightly—barely enough for him to notice—but it’s there.

your eyes are full of an emotion he can’t comprehend. maybe it’s because you’re feeling every single one of them, just like he is right now. he’s beginning to cry, and there’s nothing he can do to stop it.

“you’ve been putting in the work, and i know that you’d get an AHL contract from one team or another. you want it so bad it kills you, and you’re so damn close. i can’t let you give that away because of us.”

the words hit him hard, and even though his first instinct is to get defensive, there’s no point. you can read him like a book, and you know just as well as he does that his terrible performance has everything to do with your relationship.

slowly, he reaches for your hand. he can’t help it; being this close to you makes it feel like every single one of his nerves is on fire, and he has to actually feel you.

your fingers tangle together, resting on your leg. you’re stiff at first, but you relax into it as his thumb grazes your lower thigh in a calming pattern. it feels so natural, almost domestic, even after being apart for so long.

his other hand goes to your neck, pulling you forward so that your foreheads press together gently. you can smell him, feel his slightly callused palms, hear his soft breaths. it’s so overwhelming that the tears you’ve been shoving away spring to your eyes.

he knows he only gets one chance to say it, so he does.

“i love you. i love you so much that i can't focus on anything else, not with the way things are between us. and i am so, so sorry that i ever did that to you, or that i put myself in that situation in the first place. it was my own insecurity taking over, as much as that sucks to say, and it was pathetic. but i want to be with you, only you, and i always have. i mean, fuck, i’ve loved you since the moment you moved in next door, when you yelled at me out your window to put on a shirt that night.” chris chuckles slightly, sniffling a bit as he continues to brush his thumbs along your skin.

you can’t help but huff out a small laugh as well, thinking about that day. you were already frustrated after it took hours to build your dresser, and him teasing you was just the final nail in the coffin.

“the point is that i love you, and i’m sorry. i just needed you to hear me say it.” he breathes.

everything in him wants to lean in and close the rest of the space, because he misses his mouth on yours so much. teardrops roll down your cheeks slowly, and he can feel you shaking just a little bit in his grasp.

“i fucking love you too, chris, but i just…i just don’t know.” you sigh, biting down on your bottom lip hard to keep them from colliding with his.

you place a hand on his chest, pushing him away just a little bit to try and set a boundary. it’s almost worse, because now you can really see him, his face inches apart from yours.

his eyes dart down to your lips for too long, puffy from you gnawing on them, and he can feel himself slipping into that same trance he’s always in whenever he’s around you. especially after hearing those three words, whether you were cursing at him or not.

but he nods and lets his fingers fall from your neck, because he refuses to force this on you if you’re not ready. he still keeps a hold of your hand, though, for at least a little longer.

“i get it. i’ll fucking wait, i don’t care. if there’s any chance, i’d wait forever, do you understand that?”

you can’t meet his eyes as you push some of your hair over your shoulder. “i’m not sure that i do.”

“i can’t do this without you, and i don’t want to.” chris feels like he’s repeating himself, but he doesn’t care.

he squeezes your hand just a bit, and you use your free one to brush the tears from your cheeks. you finally meet his gaze again a moment later, eyes shining slightly. he can see the hesitation in them from a mile away.

“please, just come to the game tomorrow. i’ll swallow my pride and beg for forgiveness until coach lets me back on the team if you can do that for me.” he pleads, the faintest of ideas forming in the back of his mind.

you blow out another breath, but your body betrays you and you’re nodding your head before you can actually respond. he’s surprised by this, naturally.

but you knew the second the words came out of his mouth that you would say yes, so you verbalize that fact. “i’ll go. if you show up and play like you mean it, i’ll go.”

he feels himself laugh again instinctively, just because of how wrong he was. you’ll always have that fiery personality; it’s just you. he figured you’d eventually move on and find some really great guy, but he was pretty sure that he would always stay right here, dreaming of you.

“i’ll play like it’s the last game of my life, i promise.” he places his hand over his heart, knowing full well now that he’s going to put on a real show.

you pull your own from his so that you can stick your pinky out, forcing him to swear on it. you’re well aware that it’s silly, but you’ve always believed it was a little deeper than just saying it.

“pinky?” you challenge.

he smiles, linking his finger with yours without batting an eye. “pinky.”

@fawnchives @55sturn @luverboychris @teapartyprincess4two @pinksturniolo @mattinside @stonermattsgf @impureals @chrisactualwife @fikefries @riasturns @mattybsbitch @mattsmunch @sturnifyed @julessspoetry @beijhe @gnxosblog @braindead4l @orangeypepsi @ponyosturniolo @cupidsword @rainydayenthusiast @sturnvvz @wurlibydominicfike @poopydroopt @bernardsleftbootycheek @trilliwarner @rubyjanexxx @reallykaz @neatcarrot767 @kirby0strombolli @bunnysturns @junnniiieee07 @hrt-attack @sturnssmuts @stunza @beccaluvschris @asturniolos @slutz4sturniolos @mattslolita @alorsxsturn @sturnrc @chrissystur @kellsbells-18 @realqueenofpepsi @snowysosturn @secretfangirly @scarlettbitches @satvisfavetoodles @x0x0bunny

[tiredfox64]

Any chance we could get some of bihan (possibly his brothers as well, if you feel like it) s/o who's very sensitive and not super socially aware embarrassing the shit out of him in public with mushy nicknames and mentioning embarrassing romantic moments and giving him a little kissy in public. And his partners very softhearted and he doesn't want to hurt her feelings by saying anything so he just has to endure it.

A Heart Made of Soft Ice

Yip notes: GUESS WHO FELT GUILTY AND FORCED HERSELF TO FINISH THIS EVEN THO SHE IS BEHIND ON ASSIGNMENTS ALREADY ;-;

Pairing: Bi-Han x Afab reader

Warnings‼️: Too sick to proofread fully, also embarrassment I guess

We all know the saying opposites attract. Have you ever tried to push two magnets together and they keep avoiding each other because they are on the same side and you get really frustrated—why are you crying?

Let’s cut to the chase since tears are falling now. It’s a wonder that you work so well with Bi-Han. Ya know, the grandmaster of the Lin Kuei who wishes to be feared and can’t accept his adoptive brother who has been living with him for many years. Oh yeah, a match made in purgatory.

It’s a relationship that shocks many. A cold-blooded killer with a woman who cries during animal documentaries when the prey gets captured is not the usual pairing. You’re delicate like porcelain while Bi-Han is an actual ice wall. He can’t be nice to Tomas whenever he speaks his mind but the moment you speak about something that bothered you he’ll shut his mouth and listen to what you have to say. He even puts in the effort to do other expressions instead of scowling the whole time because he doesn’t want you to believe he’s mad at you. The best he can give is raising his eyebrows and opening his eyes a little, take it or leave it. He has a resting bitch face.

Many have asked you how you could be with that man. Well, it’s very simple actually. When it comes to you he tries his best to cool off. He could be mad at everyone else for the smallest reasons but the moment he looks at you he uses all his might to calm down. If he doesn’t he knows he will scare you or make you think that he is mad at you for no reason. In all honesty, he can’t afford to lose you. You know how hard it was to make you trust him? It’s like befriending a raven you can’t look at them even when they are eating out the palm of your hand.

But he genuinely needs you. You make him feel balanced. When he’s all cold and stern you soften him up like a candle to a glacier. It’s not much but it’s honest work. It probably saves his ass from making rash decisions as well. Heaven knows he gets himself into too much trouble by himself.

And when he’s in those moments where he’s silent and listening to you speak as he cools off you can do whatever. Shoot, you can call him whatever you want. Possibly something like—

“SNOOKUMS!”

Yeah, that.

Your voice echoes through the halls and into the ears of Lin Kuei warriors. Everyone pauses, processing the word you just yelled out. What’d you say? Snookie? What the hell is a Snookie? Well, you’re Bi-Han’s woman so maybe he knows…probably knows…definitely knows.

It’s the look in his eyes that tells everyone he knows. Wide and blank but his eyebrows are not arched in a confused manner. His arms were folded and his nails dug into his tense muscles. The dots connect with everyone and they slowly start looking at their grandmaster. Another yell emitted and grew louder as you came closer

“SNOOKUMS—Oh there you are!” You replied in a cheery tone. It’s much better than that banshee yell that radiates panic and desperation for your Snookums aka Bi-Han.

You run over to your loving boyfriend with a blanket wrapped around you because it will forever be too cold in Arctika. You hugged him tightly, not paying any mind to his bugged-out eyes. It’s horrifying to see him that way considering he is a man who is 80% of the time narrowing his eyes and 20% staring at others with murderous intent. But this stare is all a big question of what he is supposed to do about you. You already yelled that silly nickname and now you’re hugging him like he isn’t a man that’s supposed to be feared.

Some of the clansmen had the nerve to start snickering a little, finding your display of affection to be ridiculous. It’s even more ridiculous that Bi-Han is allowing this. But their snickering was silenced when Bi-Han slammed his foot on the ground, causing a patch of jagged ice to form and make its way to the clansmen before stopping short. He quickly covered your ears to prevent you from hearing his yell.

“Get back to training! I will not hesitate to dispose of those who are unworthy of taking the Lin Kuei seriously!”

Silence ripped through the room before everyone went back to training. Bi-Han slowly dropped his hands from your ears and you pretended like you didn’t hear his outburst. Blissful ignorance is a wonderful thing. He grabbed your wrist, a little too hard for your liking, and dragged you away till you two were a good distance away from everyone else. He let go of your wrist and took a deep breath in an attempt to calm down.

“Why must you yell that-“ he paused to prevent hurting your feelings by saying the nickname Snookums is stupid, “name when you could have easily kept quiet and looked around the temple.”

His words were not taken in since you were focused on rubbing your wrist. He watched as you looked up at him with wet eyes. Sadness is an understatement, despair and betrayal are the correct terms for how you were feeling. Oh gods, he could kick a kitten in the middle of a blizzard and it wouldn’t even look at him like that.

You felt a ball form in your throat, making it difficult to swallow. Your nostrils flared up and a heavy huff was being produced by you. And then the whining.

“Mmmmmm.”

No…

“Mmmmmmmmm!”

Hold it together…

“Mmmmmmmmmmmmeh heh heh heh!”

Wha-What the fuck—Cartman?

Your whines rose in volume and Bi-Han immediately reacted. He covered your mouth to muffle your sadness and tried to de-escalate the situation before your eyes went puffy from tears. He’s nodding his head no while staring you down. From your position, you believed he was angry at you for crying. You know he could never be mad at you but he is feeling a little panicky as he tried to figure out a way to stop you from crying.

“Shh, shh, stop—I’m not mad at you,” he said in his deep voice which didn’t help convince you that he wasn’t mad. The only way he can truly make you stop is by pulling out the big guns aka giving you a hug. He just needs to look around first to see if the coast is clear.

Bi-Han let out a low groan before wrapping his arms around you and squeezing you. It’s like a weighted blanket was wrapped around you before an anaconda decided to come around and squeeze you till you stopped crying. He managed to calm you down and you returned the hug while still sniffling. The idea that Bi-Han was not mad at you had set in and you finally felt calm. Maybe not Bi-Han, his eyes were shifting all around trying to make sure no one walked in on him being all lovey dovey.

“Can I stay with you while you train everyone?” You asked.

Bi-Han really, really, REALLY wanted to tell you to go back into the bedroom and wait for him to return. But with that tone you asked him in and your already shaken-up emotions, it would be a disaster to tell you not to stay.

“Yes…you may stay, but you need to keep quiet for the sake of everyone. You must not distract anyone as they are training.” He’s just making an excuse but you will listen to him.

“Okay!” You replied in a cheery tone.

You two stopped hugging and returned back to where everyone else was. You clung to your blanket while walking side by side with Bi-Han. Now please oh please do not show your affection for him in front of others. He loves you but he also likes it when others fear him.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

Well…you kept quiet…still doesn’t mean you weren’t lovey dovey in your own way.

It is pretty cute to see Bi-Han with a blanket wrapped around him while you stand in front of him, holding onto the ends of the blanket to make sure you both stay wrapped. It’s only ruined by the fact that he is staring icy dagger at anyone who even snorts. But you don’t know that. You’re in your own happy world where it’s just you and Bi-Han. And in this happy little world, you’re reminded of all the lovely times you and him were actually alone. Times where you would be cuddling in bed as you told him the most basic things ever such as how you saw a chipmunk that day. Meanwhile, Bi-Han is hugging you from behind as his mind rages on about something that Tomas did that isn’t really something to be mad about. Another happy memory came up but this time you vocalized about it.

“Oh Bibi, when we go back to the bedroom can I play with your hair?” His head snapped to look at you right after you said that.

Deep breath in…deep breath out…deep breath in…don’t yell at your girlfriend breath out…

Nearby you both could hear Tomas whisper to Kuai Liang, “I knew he would let her do that,” which almost sent Bi-Han into a fit. He luckily managed to keep it together while his nails dug into the palm of his hand from how hard he was clenching his fists. He nodded slightly, hoping that if he gave you a yes you wouldn’t say anything else. But guess what, YA DID!

“Yay! I can't wait to brush your hair and use my Cinnamoroll hair claw to put it up. You look so good with it up. Oh, what else should I put in your hair?” You let out a gasp like you just came up with the best idea ever, “What if I put a flower clip near your left ear? That means you can show off that you’re in a relationship with me. I’ll try to find a blue flower for you, Bibi.”

Alright, that’s genuinely a cute image to think of. That doesn’t stop Bi-Han from staring at you and questioning why he needs to use a flower to represent his relationship status. Everyone knows he is dating you, how much evidence does he need? Nobody even feels like what you said was silly. It’s adorable how much you love Bi-Han and want to show that you two are together. Even his brothers are gushing about it.

“Aww…you wish that was you with Harumi, huh?” Tomas whispered to Kuai Liang.

Kuai Liang looked at Tomas like he just lost his damn mind. Let’s just return to the sweet couple that is you and Bi-Han.

Your excitement was rudely interrupted by the sound of someone laughing. It was clearly to laugh at you, not with you. You looked over your shoulder to look at the Lin Kuei warrior who decided to laugh at you.

“What is with you and trying to make our grandmaster seem like a spineless weakling? What’s next? Are you going to put makeup on him to make him look prettier? Paint his nail?”

The more the clansman spoke, the more embarrassed you felt. You had no idea you were making your boyfriend look weak in front of his clan. That was never your intention. You always want to support Bi-Han while also getting the full experience of having a partner who allows you to do anything. You turned to look at Bi-Han again and mouthed an “I’m sorry” to him. That knot came back once again and you felt tears form in your pretty eyes. This hurt worse than when you thought Bi-Han was mad at you. Your lip quivered and you felt that whine rise in your throat before you felt Bi-Han’s lips on your forehead. He gave you a kiss on your forehead that was gentle but lasted for a few good seconds. He then removed the blanket from you two and rewrapped it around you. You had no idea what he was doing but oh it was a surprise for many.

Bi-Han moved in the blink of an eye. One second he was next to you and the next he was in front of the clansman who insulted you, his neck being strangled by your boyfriend’s hand. A path of ice was left behind which explained his quick movement. He then slammed the clansman hard against the ground. The sound of a bone cracking could be heard along with the thudding of the body hitting the ground. No one knew what bone just broke but the clansman sure would know. He was out in an instant. For a second, you believed Bi-Han killed a member of his clan. On closer inspection, you can see their chest rising and lowering slowly. They were luckily still alive though horribly injured.

There was silence before your boyfriend yelled, “Does anyone else wish to question their grandmaster’s authority or my partner’s choices?”

Everyone nodded no. A wise choice.

“Good. Now this will be the last time I tell all of you to get back to training!” Bi-Han yelled before returning to you.

No one bothered to help the other guy he had it coming. Plus, everyone is scared that if they helped him, their grandmaster would go after their throats next. Just work around him.

You wrapped your arms around Bi-Han’s neck and squeezed him close to you, “Bibi, you know you didn’t have to hurt that guy. I could have handled his insults.” No, you couldn’t.

“Aww, but you just love me so much that you want to protect me. You’re like a woolly mammoth. All fuzzy and possibly cuddly but a big, tough guy overall. You’re my woolly mammoth.”

Oh gosh, not the woolly mammoth comparison. Anything but that. He’d take a snow leopard but a woolly mammoth?

You started kissing him wherever you could, mostly on his jawline. He’s secretly ticklish there. He was emitting his low groan the whole time but secretly he liked it. How could he not? No matter what you do, what you call him, what you talk about, he will love you at the end of the day. A real man would endure the embarrassment. Bi-Han sure is a man.

A man who goes by the nicknames of Snookums, Bibi, and now Wooly Mammoth.

And at the end of the day, you finally get to be alone with your man in the bedroom where you would play with his hair. Oh, look, a blue flower hair clip. You know where to put it.

“Is it necessary to place a flower in my hair to represent—AH!” He let out a yelp as you yanked a handful of his hair close to you and put the clip in.

“Absolutely, don’t fight me on this.”

Yeah, Snookums, don’t fight it.

Yap notes: YALL IM SO SORRY FOR BEING OUT! SCHOOL ISN'T BAD BUT IT ISN'T GOOD IVE HAD NO TIME TO WORK ON FICS OR EVEN PERSONAL STORIES YET. ITS WORSE BECAUSE IM WRITING THIS WHILE SICK AND JUST FINISHING MY PERIOD YOU KNOW HOW MUCH IT SUCKS TO BE SICK AND HAVING MY PERIOD. IVE FELT SO GUILTY FOR DAYS I HAD TO PUT OUT SOMETHING ELSE I DIDN'T WANT YALL TO STAVE AND IT WAS REDARA'S ART THAT PUSHED ME TO FINISH SO THANKS RED MUCH LOVE. I HOPE EVERYONE IS DOING OKAY I LOVE YOU ALL THANKS YOU FOR HAVING PATIENCE. OKAY I HAVE TO GO IM LITERALLY SHAKING AS IM DEALING WITH PAIN. ADIÓS!

[the-karma-cafe]

Thursdays | Arthur Morgan

(also posted on ao3 under same username)

in which the boys are curious where arthur runs off to every thursday night (ITS FOR SEX)

song is Moonshadow by Cat Stevens ! spoiler they be fucking :/ i be making them fuck for real (oh no aaaa no arthur dont have sex with me no aaa that would be terrible i would hate that)

Javier’s eyes track Arthur as he slinks away from the campfire, tuning out Sean’s boisterous storytelling. He knows the gunslinger is readying his horse to leave. He also knows he’ll be gone for a couple of hours, returning around one or two in the morning to slump into his bed after everyone has gone to sleep.

How does Javier know?

Surprisingly, Arthur is a creature of strict routine, and he does this song and dance every Thursday night—without fail. 

Javier furrows his brow, unable to quash his curiosity this time. What on Earth could he be going off to do so regularly? He never came back with meat, so he wasn’t hunting. He couldn’t be off robbing, because when he got back, he didn’t drop anything off at the contribution box. Oh, Javier, maybe he was planning to do so later on? Ah, ah, ah! What do we know about Arthur? Ever the routine-man, he donates to the camp box the second he enters camp, no matter what he just got back from. It’s always the first thing he does. Can’t be shoppin’, ‘cause it’s too late for that. Can’t be killin’, ‘cause he comes back clean. 

A cuff round his shoulder roused him from his thoughts. “Javier! Didja hear me?” Sean said, drink emboldening his speech (not that the Irishman needed much encouragement). 

Javier ignored him, glancing over his shoulder. Sure enough, Arthur was on his horse, trotting away from camp, everyone else none-the-wiser.

“Hullloooo??” Sean needled, pushing his side into Javier’s. 

Javier looked over to Lenny and Charles sitting across the campfire from them, and felt a spark of inspiration ignite within him. He leaned forward, beckoning them closer with his hand. They looked confused, but crossed the clearing anyway, kneeling in front of his and Sean’s log. 

“What is it?” Lenny prompted, his voice hushed. He could always trust Lenny to be discreet.

“Yeah!” Sean added, much louder. ...He could’ve guessed. 

He lowered his voice, smirking conspiratorially. “Where’d Arthur go?”

Sean and Lenny frowned, caught off-guard by the question, but Charles inclined his head in understanding. “I didn’t think anyone else noticed.”

“Noticed what??” Sean whined, leaning in closer to Charles. “Don’t be keepin’ secrets, now!”

Charles rolled his eyes, waving his hand to shush Sean. He nodded his head to Javier. “Arthur’s been leaving every Thursday night.”

Sean scrunched his nose. “So what? Art’ur leaves all the time!” Lenny nodded along.

Javier shook his head. “But Thursdays are different. He leaves around 10PM, comes back around 1AM. Why the same amount of time?”

Sean was quiet for a moment (if one could believe it), before jumping up from the log, his beer bottle sloshing in his hand. “Let’s go find out!!” he whispered loudly, grinning from ear to ear.

Javier couldn’t help but mirror his expression. He was hoping he wasn’t the only one this curious about it. He felt a thrum of excitement run through him. He pushed up from the log, Lenny readying to follow him.

“Guys,” Charles interrupted, stopping their walk to the horses. “Arthur’s entitled to his privacy. We should let him have this—whatever it is.” 

He should’ve expected this from ever-noble Charles. Sean began to argue, but Javier cut him off, knowing he wouldn’t win against Charles. “It’s probably nothing.” he retorted, trying not to feel guilty under the other man’s pointed stare. He turned away, making for the horses anyway. “I’m going. You don’t have to.”

“Wouldn’t miss this fer the world!” Sean laughed, immediately tagging along. Javier fought the triumphant grin pulling at his lips. He heard Lenny awkwardly shuffle behind them, some whispered apology to Charles.

He mounted his horse, waiting impatiently for Sean to struggle onto his own. His eyes searched the growth around the camp, hoping to find an indication of where Arthur ran off to. He could track, but Charles was the expert. It would make things much easier to have him with them…

The man in question’s voice came behind him. “I’m only tagging along to make sure you don’t ruin whatever Arthur has going on.” He turned to see Charles mounting Taima, disapproval marring his proud features. 

Javier grinned in spite of it. “Excellent! Vámonos!” he cheered, leading the search brigade with Charles by his side, the other man’s trained eye focused on the ground. Lenny followed behind them with Sean drunkenly pulling up the rear. Charles looked as though he wanted to stop him from coming, but seemed to decide against it, knowing the stubborn man wouldn’t listen to a word he said.

Charles followed Arthur’s trail down the left path from camp, past the trees, past the tracks, until they arrived in Valentine. Javier felt giddy. 

Charles stopped them in front of the saloon, hopping off his horse to hitch her, the rest of them quickly following suit.

“The saloon?” Sean whispered, creeping up the steps to peer through the building’s windows. Lenny followed behind him, and the two poked their noses over the ledge of the window, trying to sneak a glance within. Charles walked over to join them, and would have looked less suspicious if not for the two idiots in front of him crouched like children. 

Javier approached the window opposite them, casually leaning to the side of it to look in. Not that his subtlety helped him, as again, he was across from three grown men cartoonishly trying to peek inside as well. 

He spied a couple of men that looked like Arthur before finally seeing actual Arthur at the bar. He wasn’t hunched over it, like some of the other patrons were, and instead was looking around at the other people in the saloon, as if searching for someone. What could that be about? He wondered.

Before he could think on it further, Sean strolled into the saloon, Lenny in tow. Charles shared a knowing glance with him before following them in. 

Sean beelined for Arthur, and soon they all surrounded him, clapping him on the back.

“You’d go to the saloon without inviting yer favorite drinking buddy?” Sean accused, roughly pushing at the man’s shoulder. 

“My favorite drinking buddy, huh?” Arthur echoed, his voice not reflecting what Javier knew to be embarrassment on his face. Arthur slumped over the bar, tugging the front of his hat further over his face. 

Sean gasped. “Drinkin’ with me’s a treat! Ye should be so lucky!”

Javier nudged him from his other side. “We were wondering where you headed off to all the time. Had we known it was just the saloon we would not have bothered!” he laughed, waving the bartender over. He would buy him a drink to apologize.

“You too, Charles?” Arthur asked, sounding betrayed. 

Charles sighed, apologizing. “I was trying to get them to leave you alone, Arthur.” Javier couldn’t help but think the man didn’t put up too much of a fight. 

“Well,” Arthur cleared his throat. “‘F that’s all, you can all head on back to camp, I’ll be back soon.”

Sean scoffed. “Why d’you want to be rid of us so-”

A guitar strum floated over from the back of the saloon, and he trailed off. Arthur buried his head in his arms, the tips of his ears red. Javier cocked a brow, looking over.

“Miss me, y’all?” a pretty woman at the back of the room called out, guitar in hand. A couple of cheers and whoops came from the crowd, the saloon filled with noise.

The boys grinned knowingly. 

“Not. A goddamn. Word.” Arthur groaned, his voice muffled by his arms. 

Sean barked a laugh, clapping the man on the back. “Ohoho, ye rascal, we shoulda known ye’d try ta keep this beauty ta yerself!” He wolf-whistled towards the performer.

Javier grinned toothily, leaning in to tease Arthur. “You could have told us you were only leaving to see about a girl, Arthur.”

Arthur pushed up from his slump, nursing his whiskey miserably. “Like you would’ve let me hear the end of it.” He grumbled. Javier pushed his extra drink over to the man, giggling like a teenager. Arthur the Stoic, red-faced and shy about a singer. He never thought he’d see the day!

The woman, having finished her introductions while they teased Arthur, began to sing. Javier watched Arthur turn himself slightly to watch her.

Yes, I'm bein' followed by a moonshadow

Moonshadow, moonshadow

Leapin' and hoppin' on a moonshadow

Moonshadow, moonshadow

Arthur couldn’t help the dreamy smile that twisted his mouth, watching her. She looked so content, fully in her element up there on Valentine’s tiny lifted stage. The piano man to her right had abandoned his duties to drink at the nearest table.

And if I ever lose my hands

Lose my plow, lose my land

Oh, if I ever lose my hands

Oh iiiii-iiiif, I won't have to work no more

Her southern accent colored the lyrics, guiding the notes up and down as she pleased. The patrons knew this song, and sang along with her every now and then, but none followed the exact way she sang it, allowing him to easily follow her voice amidst the noise.

And if I ever lose my eyes

If my colors all run dry

Yes, if I ever lose my eyes

Oh iiiii-iiiif, I won't have to cry no more

Sean stumbled into the fray, caught in some dance with a couple of other patrons, breaking his trance. Arthur dragged a hand over his face, hoping he didn’t look as foolish as he felt. 

Yes, I’m bein' followed by a moonshadow

Moonshadow, moonshadow

Leapin' and hoppin' on a moonshadow

Moonshadow, moonshadow

Most nights, he would allow himself to indulge in the fantasy. Convince himself she was singin’ for him, that when they locked eyes across the saloon, she had the same look in hers as he did. 

And if I ever lose my legs

I won't moan, and I won't beg

Oh, if I ever lose my legs

Oh iiiii-iiiif, I won't have to walk no more

He downed his drink and reached for Javier’s—anything to give him an excuse for the way he was lookin’ at her. Having them with him just dragged him back to reality: he was just another face in the crowd to her, and even if he did catch her eye, she would just think him old and sour-faced, and leave it at that. 

And if I ever lose my mouth

All my teeth, north and south

Yes, if I ever lose my mouth

Oh iiiii-iiiif, I won't have to talk no more

He took another deep drink, feeling that familiar haze begin to set in on the edge of his vision. 

Did it take long to find me?

I asked the faithful light

Oh, did it take long to find me?

And are you gonna stay the night?

This would be the last time he let himself come here on a Thursday night. He was just torturin’ himself, thinkin’ of things that would never be. Head in the clouds, like Micah would say. Christ, he was glad they didn’t think to bring him along.

I'm bein' followed by a moonshadow

Moonshadow, moonshadow

Leapin' and hoppin' on a moonshadow

Moonshadow, moonshadow

The drink crept into his heart. If this was his last night here, with her, he might as well fool himself one last time, the drink said. What’s the harm? One last time can’t hurt. It wheedled, and he knew he’d be miserable come morning.

Moonshadow, moonshadow

Moonshadow, moonshadow

He leaned to his right, seeking Javier’s weight to nudge him for another drink (least he could do for ruinin’ his fun), but felt only air. He frowned, glancing around for the others. Sean had dragged Lenny into his drunken dance, Javier was speaking with some well-endowed woman in the corner (who seemed very pleased to have his attention), and Charles… his frown deepened, squinting at the blurry crowd. He couldn’t see Charles. Knowing the women of Valentine, he was likely cornered somewhere, politely refusing their services (although for a man like Charles, perhaps it was free).

Arthur grunted, turning back to his empty glass. Figures that his friends would quickly find company at a place he frequented, and he was left miserable and alone. He plucked his hat off his head, raking his other hand through his hair. He was sure he looked a mess—no wonder he was by himself. 

“Hey, cowboy.” a voice came from his right, startling him from his wallowing. He turned, and felt his heart jump to see his singer leaning against the bar next to him. 

Her eyes were bright, her face flushed. She seemed out of breath from her performance, but pleased, satisfied with how she had done. 

He gaped like a fish. Say somethin’, goddammit!  

She smiled, shifting her eyes to his glass. She pointed at it lazily. “Be a doll and get me what you’re havin’?”

He nodded dumbly, gesturing wordlessly at the bartender. Seconds later, a replica of his drink sat in front of her. She thanked him and brought the glass to her lips. He knew he looked ridiculous, eyes trained on the way her lips parted, the amber liquid gliding into her mouth, but he couldn’t bring himself to look away.

She set the glass back down, giving him a teasing smile. “You mute?”

He shook his head—then inwardly smacked himself for yet another wordless response. “No.” Christ, you can do better than that.

She giggled, and he thought he might die. “What a scintillating conversationalist you are, Mister…” she trailed off, tilting her head. 

“Morgan.” he provided. His mind caught up to the conversation fast enough to ask for her name in turn (he deserved a pat on the back for being so quick-witted). She gave it, and he almost sighed aloud. She had a name she introduced herself with to the crowds, but he suspected it was a stage name, and he had been correct. Her real name was a privilege to finally learn. 

He repeated it back to her, experimentally rolling it on his tongue. She grinned. “Sounds nice when you say it, Mr. Morgan.” 

“Arthur,” he corrected. “‘S just Arthur. For you.” He coughed, turning to order another drink, just to have something, anything , to distract him from the weight of her gaze on him. “I mean, if you want. Morgan’s fine too.”

“Arthur,” she purred. He felt faint. “I like that more.” His next drink arrived and he immediately buried his face in it, unable to meet her eyes. Christ, he was like a teenager. He inwardly scolded himself.

She carried on, oblivious to his inner turmoil. “I see you here a lot, Arthur.” she gestured over her shoulder to the crowd. “First time I seen you bring friends, though.”

So she had seen him in the crowd all those times? He squashed the thought before it ruined him. He laughed, shaking his head. “Bastards invited themselves.” He chanced a glance at her, her attention on the crowd instead of him. He eyed her drink, already half-empty in her hand, before looking up, up, to the curve of her chest, the proud slope of her neck, the strands of hair falling loose from her updo, her lips, her nose, her eyes… he forced himself to look at the crowd instead. “Don’t you have some adorin’ fans to go talk to?”

She turned her head to look at him, but he kept his eyes focused ahead. “I thought I was already doin’ that.” she sidled closer to him, nudging her shoulder against his arm. Warmth radiated off of her. “Unless you’re not one of my adoring fans.”

Arthur felt heat creep up his neck and he shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” she echoed, amusement coloring her voice. “I don’t think you’ve missed a single one of my performances, Arthur Morgan.” he felt a shiver run up his spine. “If anyone’s a fan, it’s you.”

He pulled the lip of his hat down over his eyes. “Maybe.” Guilty as charged.

She laughed, and rounded to his front. She flicked up the front of his hat, and his eyes met hers. He stilled, entranced. There seemed to be a glow about her, some hazy halo enveloping her body. How much had he had?  

“You won’t admit it?” What had they been talking about again? He tried not to focus on their difference in height, how easy it would be to scoop her up, his hands so large on her hips… 

“Well?” He flexed his hands, trying to reign himself in. Her face was expectant: eyebrows raised, pretty lips pursed. 

He shook his head. Couldn’t this woman see he couldn’t think straight? 

Apparently that counted as an answer and she scoffed, playfully rolling her eyes. “You embarrassed?”

Yes. Why did she think he was, again? He sighed. “I’m sorry, miss,” he tried her name again, wanting to say it over and over. “I believe I am too drunk for this conversation.”

She grinned in understanding. “Why don’t we talk someplace quieter, make things easier on your poor head, hm?” 

Someplace quieter? His mind echoed, while his body nodded dumbly, stumbling behind her. She took his hand in her own, leading him up the stairs. His eyes were trained intently on their hands, her hand small, warm, in his, her fingertips roughened from guitar strings. 

What was she doin’, touchin’ a man like him? He couldn’t bring himself to pull away, as much as he knew he should. It felt nice, to indulge. The hazy shroud around his vision encroached further inwards, tunneling his view.  

“Here,” she said, so softly he almost didn’t hear. She pushed open a door, leading him inside and shutting it behind them. It was suddenly much quieter. He breathed a sigh of relief, some tension leaving his set shoulders.

“Nicer up here, isn’t it?” she prompted, releasing his hand. He ached at the loss. He dragged his gaze up to watch her dance over to the… bed. He gulped, valiantly fighting off the thoughts that sprang up at the sight of her. 

“Mhm.” He didn’t know what to do with himself. He stood awkwardly where she had left him, staring dumbly at her. What the hell was she thinkin’, bringin’ a man like him up here, alone with her? She could get herself hurt, or worse. He frowned. She opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off. “I shouldn’ be up here with you.” He shook his head, forcing himself to look at the ground. “Ain’t right. You shouldn’ trust me.” his words slurred, but he hoped she was taking him seriously despite it. 

“Why not?”

He groaned. God, her voice. He buried his head in his hands. “I ain’t. A nice man, miss,” he spoke her name again, and god, hoped she couldn’t hear how he loved to say it.

He felt her hand on his arm. When had she gotten up? She was so warm. He lowered his hands, chancing a look into her eyes, hoping he was strong enough to resist their pull. 

Christ, of course he couldn’t. She looked up at him through her lashes, stepping closer, their bodies almost touching. He breathed in, unable to bring himself to look away this time. She smelled like the alcohol everything smelled like in the saloon, but a sweet undertone ran beneath it. He was reminded of the saccharine scent of canned peaches. 

Her hand smoothed down his arm to his hand, lacing their fingers together. Her other reached up, up, and palmed his cheek, her touch gentle like she was approaching some wild horse. He leaned into it before he could stop himself, his stubble scratching against her skin. 

“How ‘bout,” she started, her voice soft and quiet, “I decide that for myself?”

His eyelids felt heavy, and he felt himself forgetting what she was even responding to. His free hand began to move of its own accord, bumping into her thigh, smoothing up to her hip. He looked down. Just like he had imagined… 

She moved, and his gaze shifted to her face, slowly nearing his. His breath hitched. This was some sweet dream. He would awaken in his tent, frustrated and wanting, would take himself in his hand and relieve himself to the sight of her like this in his mind’s eye. He would wait until next Thursday and slink back to the bar, eager for more. Her lips touched his and he sighed into her mouth, whiskey on his breath. He would stay asleep forever, if he could, lips pushing against hers, nipping at her soft skin, tonguing past it. 

She parted from him, gently, as if to not scare him off. He breathed heavily, eyes lidded, vision tunneled onto her mouth. She started to speak, but he cut her off, pushing hungrily into her, cupping his hand around the back of her neck. He had waited so long, so long. He would take it, even if it wasn’t real. 

She gasped into his mouth and he almost moaned at the sensation. God, what a privilege to finally have her all to himself. To have her in front of him, touching him, kissing him, instead of with her crowd, Arthur by himself at the other end.

Her knees buckled, falling back onto the bed. He huffed, breaking from her. He thrust his hands beneath her thighs, hearing her squeak in surprise. “Easy, girl.” he muttered under his breath, picking her up and tossing her into the pillows at the head of the bed, following soon after. 

He climbed onto the bed above her, and stilled, looking down at her. Her hair had spilled out of its updo, hair piece having been discarded… at some point, perhaps before they had even entered the room? His memory felt hazy. She looked up at him through her lashes, her lips parted, chest heaving. His eyes softened. “Yer beautiful, miss,” he whispered her name. 

Her cheeks flushed prettily. “Thank you, Arthur.” she breathed. She tilted her head up slightly, her eyes slipping down to his lips. 

He reached out, taking a piece of her hair between his fingers, twisting it around. It was soft. Of course it was. It was devastating how perfect she was. “I liked your song, earlier.” he mumbled, focused on her hair. 

“I… I’m glad.” she whispered, her hand winding up his arm, to his neck, to his head, to take off his hat. She placed it down somewhere, and her hand soon wound its way into his hair, her short nails scraping at the back of his head. His eyes slipped closed, humming at the sensation. “I was hoping you would be here, tonight.”

He blinked open his eyes just enough to see her face. “What?” he asked, his voice gruff. 

She averted her gaze, blush deepening. “Been lookin’ forward to seein’ you at my performances.”

He scoffed. Now he knew this was a dream. “Uh huh.” He leaned in, burying his nose in her neck. “You don’t gotta lie t’me.” He turned, placing open-mouthed kisses along any skin he could find. Her breath hitched in his ear. 

“I-I’m not.” she insisted. He hummed, laving across a section of skin before taking it between his teeth, sucking slightly. She held her breath for a second, forcing out her next words. “I been… been dreadin’ the day you stop showin’ up,” she breathed out, “and I’d have missed my chance.” 

He parted from her, pulling back just enough to meet her eyes. They were lidded, but earnest. He felt his heart flutter in his chest. “I counted at least ten other men better-lookin’ and closer in age t’you. Yer tellin’ me not one o’ them caught yer eye?” 

“‘S that really so hard to believe?” she palmed his cheek again, stroking it with her thumb. 

“Yes.” he laughed dryly, but leaned into her hand all the same. 

She brought up her other hand, cupping his face. “Look how sweet you are, baby.” she cooed, bringing his face closer to nuzzle her nose against his. “What a cutie-pie!” she teased.

His eyes softened, tracing the features of her face. He wished he could pause time, sketch her in his journal. He’d just have to memorize how she looked, and try his best to replicate it later. Once he woke up, of course. From this dream.

She connected their lips and he groaned, not expecting the sudden contact again. Her hands moved from his face to wrap around his neck and scratch at his shoulders. It felt like she was sucking him in, how truly he could not pull away. 

He rubbed his hand up her thigh, pushing up her long skirt. Her skin was smooth under his rough hand, moving up to grab at the soft flesh of her ass, squeezing and pulling her up towards him. She arched slightly, and he grabbed his other hand behind her waist to pull her closer, closer still. 

Her breasts brushed against his chest, her nipples stiffening through the thin fabric. He nudged her head to the side with his nose, moving to kiss down her neck. She sighed in his ear, her hands busying themselves with his arms and shoulders. Drink made him sloppy in his movements, his tongue wetting her neck and chest as he made his way down to her breasts. He didn’t bother to tug the fabric down, instead mouthing over her nipple through the fabric, flattening and swirling his tongue into the mound. 

She whimpered, her hand moving up to tug at the hair on the back of his head, her other moving down to tug her shirt down under her tits. He parted from her while she did so, unable to help the smirk twisting his mouth at her desperation. 

“You like that, doll?” he muttered, taking in the sight of her bare breasts, her shirt bunched up underneath them. 

She stuttered out a response, arching up towards his mouth. Seeing her like this sent a surge of confidence through him. She was his. No one else downstairs got to see her like this. Just him. Only him. He brushed his lips against her nipple, watching her try to push into his mouth. 

He smiled against her, and she whined, tugging his hair. “Don’t tease me, Arthur.” she breathed. Fuck. He took it into his mouth, his hand encircling the other, twisting and toying with it. He would give her anything she wanted if it meant she would say his name like that again. 

He dragged his mouth down, not missing the soft moan she gave at the loss, cool air ghosting over her wet nipple. He kissed down her stomach, moving his hands down underneath her thighs, pushing them up, up. 

He bunched her skirt around her, and pulled back. His eyebrows jumped up his forehead in surprise. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath. He looked up at her. 

Her face was reddened with embarrassment, her hands covering her cheeks. 

“Care to explain this?” he teased, running his hands down her thighs, closer, closer. 

She bit her lip. “I…” she looked away. 

He tilted his head, indicating he was waiting. 

“I… did say I was hopin’ to see you tonight, didn’t I?” she laughed breathily. 

His chest rumbled in approval, looking down at her exposed cunt, already wet without him touching it. “All this…” he drawled, glancing up at her, “for me?” 

She nodded, hiding slightly behind her hands. 

“Too kind to me, sweetheart,” he lowered himself, breathing her in. He kissed her thigh, feeling her twitch. “You shouldn’t have…” his breath ghosted between her legs, and she shuddered, anticipation building. He placed a few more open-mouthed kisses inside her thighs, feeling her arch into him, growing desperate. He took pity. 

Gripping her soft thighs in his hands, he licked one long stripe up her slit, gathering her wetness onto his tongue. She gasped, tightening her legs. He forced them open, holding them up. “Be good, princess, or I won’t be good to you.” he admonished, kissing her thigh. 

She shuddered. “Shit, yes, sorry yes, please, I’ll be good, please,” she breathed, trying to wiggle closer to his mouth. 

“Good girl,” he praised, flattening his tongue against her clit, lapping at it softly. She cursed, her hands fisting the bedding. He laved up her slit, once, twice, three times, before closing his lips around her bud, lightly sucking it in and swirling his tongue around it. 

“Fuck, Arthur,” she gasped, and he groaned against her, working his tongue inside of her, circling the entrance before pushing in, lapping up at her walls. He smoothed his hand up her thigh, reaching her clit with the rough pad of his thumb. He pressed gentle circles into it, his tongue spreading into her. She hissed, bucking into his ministrations. 

He pulled away, sliding his thumb down from her clit to her entrance, gently working his way inside. 

“Arthur…” she whined. 

“Yeah?” He teased, mimicking her tone, pushing his thick thumb further inside of her. 

She moaned, pushing herself onto him. “Arthur, please, I need more,” she breathed, meeting his gaze. “I need you .” 

He felt himself throb against his already-strained pants. He cursed under his breath, moving to unbuckle his pants. In his tunnel vision, he didn’t see her move from her position on the bed. 

Her hand came to rest over where his struggled with the buckle. “Let me, baby.” she cooed, moving his hands away. He blinked, letting her move him, watching her smaller hands undo his belt, working his pants down, taking him… oh. She took him out, palming his length. Shit, it looked bigger in her hand. Or maybe he hadn’t been this worked up in awhile. She ghosted her hand up and down, barely fluttering her thumb over the tip. His breath hitched, trying not to buck up into her hand, and failing, miserably. 

She grinned, looking up at him through her lashes. He reached out, stroking her cheek with his hand. “Hey, girl.” he breathed shakily, her hand jerking up suddenly. 

She giggled. “Hey, yourself, handsome.” 

He flushed, suddenly embarrassed to be on the other end. He looked away, only for a moment, before feeling a warm wetness engulf him. He gasped, whipping back to look down at her, half of his length having disappeared into her mouth. “Shit, darlin’,” he cursed, his accent dragging at the words. He bucked up into her lips, smoothing his thumb across her cheek. 

She hummed, the sound sending vibrations into him. “God, sweetheart, you’re bein’ so fuckin’ good to me right now,” he hissed, his hand reaching underneath to cup her jaw, squeezing it and guiding himself further in. 

She opened her mouth wider to take him. “Christ, you’re perfect,” he groaned, feeling her tongue slide up, her hand taking what her mouth couldn’t. 

She pulled off of him, kissing his tip, pumping her hand over the slick she had left. His breath shuddered. She smiled up at him. “You want more?” 

“God, yes.” he pushed her back onto the bed, muscling her onto her stomach, ass in the air. She squeaked in surprise, and he palmed her ass, squeezing it open to get a better look. God, she was practically dripping for him. He bit his lip, groaning. He rubbed himself up her slit, gathering the wetness there, rubbing it onto himself. “All this for me, darlin’?” he whispered, squeezing her hip. 

She wiggled herself back, trying to take him in. “Fuck, Arthur, it is, please, just fuck me already,” she whined, his tip sliding just past where she wanted him. 

“If the lady insists,” he teased, aligning himself with her, before softly, gently, pushing into her. 

She turned her face into the mattress, moaning, grabbing at the covers. “ Jesus, Arthur.” she groaned, her words muffled. 

He pressed in further. Halfway. “Can’t hear you, doll.” It was taking everything in him to go so slowly. 

She turned her head to the side, pushing back to take more of him in. He hissed, his hands twitching on her ass, squeezing her. 

He let out a breath, finally fully seated. He didn’t want to hurt her, he couldn’t. He gyrated against her, desperate for some kind of friction. A whine built in his throat. “Can-” 

Before he could ask, she forcefully pushed back into him, and he cursed, abandoning all hesitation and fucking into her. She cried out his name, arching against him. She was so tight and hot around him, her ass bouncing back against him with every thrust. It was all he could do to keep himself standing, his vision focused solely on where their bodies met. 

“Ar-thur,” she gasped, her breath shuddering, “God, God, you’re so big Arthur, Jesus Christ,” she moaned, her words starting to devolve into sounds with no meaning. 

He kept himself rooted deep within her, barely pulling out before slamming back in again, and again, and again. Her hands grasped for purchase anywhere, everywhere, on the bed, moaning noises that almost sounded like his name, pushing back into him with every thrust. 

Shit. Shit. He screwed his eyes shut. He wasn’t sure he could last much longer. 

“Miss,” he breathed her name. “I, shit, I-” he grabbed her thighs, his fingers bruising in their pressure, forcing her back into him. 

She whined at the pressure, growing limper. 

“Fuck! Fuck,” he yanked himself from her, grabbing at himself and finishing on her back. 

She had collapsed into the bed, giving a small satisfied moan. He breathed heavily, immediately grabbing a towel from the closet and cleaning her off. “S-Sorry, Miss.” he caught his breath, “Should’ve grabbed the towel before doin’ that on you.” He discarded the towel, placing a small kiss on her back, then immediately wondering if that was too much.

“What?” she said, muffled a bit by the covers. She turned, pushing herself up to sit and look at him. She frowned, reaching out and cupping his cheek. “You’ve got nothin’ to apologize for, cowboy.” Her frown twisted to a smile, “I oughta be thankin’ you for such a nice time.” she teased, pinching his cheek.

He suddenly grew bashful, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’ know about all that, but I definitely am thankin’ you.” Her face was flushed, her eyes bright, her lips slightly swollen… he had so many things to remember for his journal. “Best dream I’ve had in awhile,” he mumbled, moving to get under the covers. 

She joined him. “Dream?” she laughed, “You still drunk enough to think you’re dreamin’?”

He shrugged, opening his arms. She shifted into them, laying her head on his chest. “Could be stone cold sober and still think this was a dream.” He pecked her head. “I’ll miss you in the mornin’, girl.” 

She snorted, but snuggled into him anyway.

─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─

Arthur groaned, the light only hitting his closed eyes, but giving him a headache all the same. His back didn’t hold the ache it usually did, though, laying on this terrible cot. It was the small victories, he guessed.

He thought back to his dream last night, and sighed wistfully. What he would give to have that right now, his cock painfully hard this morning. He forced himself to sit up, rubbing at his eyes. 

A hand reached across his stomach, ghosting against his length. He jumped, looking over to his side. “Well, good morning to you, too.” she yawned, lightly playing with him, a teasing look in her eye. 

He blinked. He squinted.

He rubbed his eyes again.

“Holy shit.”

─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─

Bonus

The woman placed the guitar against the wall, happily engaged in conversation with some of the patrons closest to her stage. “Excuse me,” Charles butted in, stealing her attention from them. 

She turned to him, confused, but polite. “Yes, sir?”

He smiled kindly. “I’m sorry, Miss, but could you do me a favor?”

“Depends on the favor, don’t it?” she laughed.

He nodded in understanding, and pointed to Arthur, hunched over the bar. “Do you see that miserable man over there?” She looked, and stiffened in recognition. “He has been coming to this saloon every Thursday night, just for you.” he turned to her. 

A blush painted her cheeks. “You’re kiddin’.” she laced her fingers together nervously. “He’s never said anything to me.”

Charles shook his head. “My friend—he is shy with women.” he leaned in conspiratorially, “Especially women he likes.” The woman’s blush deepened, her gaze darting over to Arthur. He straightened up. “All I ask is that you talk to him. I’m afraid my friends and I have ruined his Thursday, and I’m sure that would cheer him up.”

She looked up at him, her eyes dancing. He could tell why Arthur was so taken with her. “He sounds sweet,” she spoke softly. “I would love to.” 

He thanked her, watching her make true on her word and walk over to Arthur. Charles noted his reddened ears and fumbling fingers and smiled. Hopefully, this would make up for it.

[eddieandbird]

Plant Kisses—

Imagine Eddie catches you feeling insecure - Based on a quote by Tyler Knott Gregson

tags/warnings: fluff | genderless reader | blurb (0.8k words) | comfort

———

You’d assumed while your back was turned that Eddie was putting all his focus into practicing this new guitar riff he claimed was ‘shredding his fingertips off’. Really, it just gave his hands something to do while he curiously set his eyes upon you.

You sat on the floor with your legs crossed, your body hunched over as you looked into his floor-length mirror. You were poking and pulling at your skin, silently examining every flaw you came across. Eddie was no mind reader, but he was sensitive enough to know that there wasn’t a kind thing you were telling yourself in your head.

There was only so much of it he could take, and after ten maddening minutes, he was ready to put a stop to it. A low hum rang out of his amp as he set his guitar onto its stand, the sound still wasn’t enough to bring you out of your obsessive trance. He slid onto his knees, bringing them to frame your hips as he sat down with you.

“What on earth are you doing?” He scooped up your chin and squished your cheeks together, stopping you from picking at your skin any further.

“Nothing,” You gave a typical, dismissive answer. You could see his unimpressed pout from the corner of his eye.

“Nothing, huh? You really think I’m gonna believe that?” Eddie swiped his hand across both your shoulders, bringing your hair to your back before combing it out with your fingers.

You shot him a petulant glare. “I don’t know what you want me to say,”

You could feel your heart thrum at his gentle actions, already succumbing to the softness he seemed to only have for you.

He raised an eyebrow at your expression, a humorous smirk tugging at his lips. “Don’t give me that look,” he chided, lightly tugging on the back of your hair to keep your attention. “We both know you’re such a bad liar,” he chuckled.

His hands slid down from your shoulders to your arms, his touch feather-light as he trailed his fingers along your skin. “I can already guess what’s going through that head of yours,” he said, gently pulling you back to sit on his lap.

“Oh yeah? What do you think is going on in here?” You tapped a finger to your temple, playfully challenging him.

“Some stupid bullshit about how your skin isn’t clear or you have a double-chin, or that you need to suck in your stomach more so you look a bit smaller, blah, blah, blah,” As Eddie rambled, his arms slowly snaked around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

“Yeah? And so what if I was thinking all of that?” You mumbled under your breath, your arms following the placement of his. His inferences were right, causing those stubborn walls of yours to crumble.

He tilted his head to the side, studying your face with an amused look in his eyes. “Like I said, I think it’s bullshit,” he stated bluntly.

“You are so beautiful and you know it,” his thumbs slowly traced along your abdomen.

He leaned his head down to the crook of your shoulder, nuzzling into the crook of your neck before placing a kiss there. “You’re perfect just the way you are,”

“And what if I don’t feel that way, huh?” You exhaled slowly letting the air out through your pouty lips.

It wasn’t like you didn’t appreciate his sentiment. It wasn’t either of your faults that your insecurities screamed much louder than anything he was able to say.

Eddie shook his head without replying. He dipped his head down, continuing freckle kisses along the skin your tank top allowed him to touch, even running his lips down the backs of your arms. The sensations built a warmth in your stomach, but somehow it didn’t distract you from the fact that he still hadn’t responded.

“Hellooo. Eddie Munson, I’m talking to you,” You teased, waving your hand in his face.

He picked up his head. “I heard you, sweetheart. I’m answering your question,” Not another second passed and he was back to what he was doing before.

“How is this answering my question?”

“This-” he planted a kiss on your nape, “is what-” and another kiss to your shoulder. “I’m gonna do every time-” he continued, “you feel like this…” Eddie punctuated his statement with a kiss on the top of your chest.

Eddie stopped for a moment, letting out a loud exhale. He studied your reflection in the mirror, proudly admiring the subtle flush he had caused to spread over your skin. You wished to say something snarky in response, but his sincerity caused you to surrender to whatever deeper meaning this display of affection had for him.

“You’re gonna kiss me every time I don’t feel beautiful?” You asked with only a hint of sarcasm.

He nodded, fitting his head into the space beside your neck.

“I promise to plant kisses like seeds on your body, so in time you can grow to love yourself as I love you,”

[yasmindifference]

so @aceofshitposts and I did a little challenge where we spent an hour(+ change) writing for the same prompt! the prompt was Have one character brushing the hair away from the face of the other and here's what I came up with:

Before Robin, Tim was a normal latchkey rich kid—nannies, housekeepers, postcards from his world-travelling parents. He took martial arts with his mother’s bemused approval, but it was all carefully structured, closely supervised katas. Neither of his parents ever imagined he’d need to actually defend himself.

After Robin—well. Bruce very much imagined he’d need to defend himself (ensured it, in fact), but he viciously hated guns. He taught Tim how to handle them safely, but no more than that. There were certainly no lessons on firearms maintenance.

Of course, Bruce never could have guessed what a disadvantage that would leave Tim at, here after the end of the world.

“Wrong,” Jason says without looking up from his own work, and Tim sighs.

“How wrong?”

“Very.”

Tim sighs again, louder, and takes the half-assembled revolver back apart to start over. “I’m not getting better at this.”

“Sure you are,” Jason says. He’s still focused on the gun he’s cleaning—his fifth, while Tim struggles to put his first back together. “You’re only fucking up because you’re rushin’ it. Take your time and you’ll do fine.”

Sounds nice in theory, but—“I need to be fast.”

“Can’t be fast until you’ve got it down,” Jason reminds him, which Tim knows. Of course he does. It’s not just Firearms 101, it’s Anything 101. He didn’t start at disarming bombs in under 15 seconds, he started with hours and worked his way down.

But that was then, back when he was a kid in the safety of the Cave, in danger of nothing more than Batman’s disapproval.

These days, taking too long to do anything—especially weapons maintenance—could get him killed. Or worse, could get Jason killed.

“Freaking out won’t help either,” Jason says.

Somehow, he’s moved on to his sixth gun. His sixth, while Tim is sitting here struggling with his first. He’s got three guns to clean, Jason’s got more than ten, and at this rate, Jason’s going to end up cleaning Tim’s other two while Tim struggles with basic assembly in a way he didn’t even struggle with literal rocket science—

“Hey, hey,” Jason says, and suddenly he’s there, pulling Tim away from the table and sinking to his knees in front of him, brushing Tim’s too-long hair out of his face to kiss him.

It’s sweet. Gentle, soft. There’s no force behind it, but it punches right through Tim’s panic anyway, like a little puncture to let all the anxiety spill out of him. Tim melts into it—into Jason—leaning forward further and further until he ends up sliding out of the chair and into Jason’s lap.

Then they’re both on the floor, a spread of half-cleaned guns on the table above them plus a gun on each of their hips.

“There you go,” Jason murmurs against his mouth. He kisses Tim again once, twice, and then pulls back to look at him. “You good?”

“Yeah,” Tim lies. In reality, he’s embarrassed that he almost worked himself into a panic attack over weapons maintenance—that Jason had to interrupt his own work to calm him down—but embarrassment’s still an improvement over hyperventilation, so…whatever. Close enough.

Jason’s eyes narrow. “Are you lying?”

Tim groans and buries his face in Jason’s neck. Jason, surprisingly, lets him. Instead of dragging Tim up by the hair to face him, he just cups the back of Tim’s neck, one thumb sweeping soothingly over the skin behind Tim’s ear.

“I told you it’s not the end of the world if I have to handle the weapons maintenance,” he says.

“It’s the end of the world anyway,” Tim mutters, and Jason laughs a little.

“Well, yeah,” he admits. “But still. What’s got you so upset about this? You’re not usually this picky about the division of labor.”

Tim laughs humorlessly. Division of labor, right. As if he’s contributed anything at all.

“Hey.” Jason’s hand tightens in his hair, and now he pulls Tim back, forcing eye contact. “What was that? What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” Tim echoes. He wants to—to laugh or scream or cry or something. “What’s wrong is that you’ve saved my life a dozen times in the last two weeks and I haven’t been able to do anything for you.”

Jason scowls. “That’s bullshit.”

It’s not. It’s really not.

The world is falling apart and all of Tim’s skills are worthless. He’s worthless.

Three weeks ago, a coordinated strike took out every power grid in North America. Not all at once, no, but ten simultaneous major failures took their toll on connecting systems, causing cascading failures until nothing was left.

They could’ve recovered from that. It wouldn’t have been easy or fast, but it could’ve been done.

Then the virus hit. In Gotham, the hospitals were the first to fall, but far from the last. A wave of zombies—actual fucking zombies, like something out of a movie—swept across the entire city (the entire world, they suspect, but haven’t been able to reach the Justice League to confirm), and hundreds of thousands of people died.

All of Tim’s skills, all of his training—none of it helped. He’s spent his entire career as a vigilante honing himself into a carefully, purposefully nonlethal weapon…and only lethal action works against the zombies.

If not for Jason, he’d have been dead the first day.

If not for Jason, he’d have been dead every day since.

And Tim can’t even pay him back by helping take care of the guns Jason has been using to keep them alive.

Maybe Tim accidentally says it aloud, or maybe Jason can just read him that well by now. Their casual fuck buddies relationship turned serious really fast after the zombies showed up.

Either way, his scowl deepens.

“You think you’re not helping me?” he demands. “You think I’d have gotten half this far without you watching my back?”

“If you didn’t have me to protect—”

“If I didn’t have you to protect I’d be losing my fucking mind,” Jason interrupts. “If I had to do this alone—if I had to actually think about what’s fucking happening here—”

He stops and swallows hard. Tim closes his eyes.

They don’t know what’s happening outside of Gotham. Their phones are charged, but don’t get a signal, and none of their communicators are working. Tim shouted himself hoarse trying to get Kon’s attention with no response.

And inside Gotham—inside Gotham—

Tim wrenches his mind away before it can go back to the Manor and what happened there. Hoping to distract them both, he kisses Jason again.

Jason lets him. Jason kisses him back. Not gentle this time: deep and hard, something filthy that makes Tim’s blood sing.

And when it stops, Jason presses their foreheads together, one hand cupping the back of Tim’s head to hold him in place.

“I don’t give a fuck if you can’t clean the damn guns, baby,” he says. “I don’t need you to help me keep us alive, I need you to keep me fucking sane.”

A sweet sentiment, but—“I need me to help keep us alive.”

Jason takes a deep breath, then another. Then he kisses Tim again and sits back.

“Okay,” he says. “I get that. But you gotta chill, okay? Your shooting’s getting better a lot faster than your maintenance is. Prioritize.”

Well, fair enough.

“Yeah,” Tim says. “Yeah, okay.”

Jason brushes his thumb over Tim’s cheek, then brushes his hair out of his face again, this time tucking it behind Tim’s ear. It’s the kind of tender gesture that always puts Tim’s heart in his throat.

“Ready to try again?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Tim says. “Yeah, I’m ready.”