#I have a hair appointment booked in for Thursday

[you-expect-too-much]

Self awareness 🍒

[kirstielol]

this has to be the busiest month of my life 😵‍💫

[estellan0vella]

No Smoochie Kiss! Older Brother Sukuna AU HFBU

Living with Sukuna and Yuji is never boring. Between Sukuna's raw intensity and Yuji's unfiltered energy, you often find yourself navigating a whirlwind of chaos and laughter. It's a household filled with love, but sometimes, that love comes with unexpected twists.

It all begins one sunny morning when you're sitting at the kitchen table, half asleep but awake at Sukuna's insistence that you keep a regulated sleep schedule. Sukuna, ever the morning person, is already bustling around, making sure Yuji's lunchbox is packed with all his favourites. Yuji, on the other hand, is sitting next to you, his legs swinging under the table as he munches on his cereal. 

You sip on your coffee as Yuji babbles happily. You nod along but if asked you wouldn't have been able to tell anyone what he'd been talking about. 

You watch as Sukuna, with his usual swagger, approaches you for his customary morning kiss. However, before he can even get close, a small hand plants itself firmly on his chest.

"No, Suku!" Yuji declares, his big brown eyes wide with determination. "No smoochie kiss for Y/N/N!"

Sukuna raises an eyebrow, his signature smirk appearing on his lips. "And why not, squirt?"

"Because," Yuji says with the absolute authority that only a four-year-old can muster, "Y/N/N is mine."

You can't help but laugh, the sound filling the kitchen. Sukuna glances at you, his smirk softening into something more affectionate. "Is that so?"

"Yes," Yuji insists, crossing his arms over his chest. "Mine."

Sukuna looks back at you, an amused glint in his eyes. "Looks like I've got some competition."

You smile, reaching out to ruffle Yuji's hair. "Well, I guess you'll have to work extra hard to win me back."

The week that follows is both hilarious and endearing. Yuji takes his self-appointed role as your protector very seriously. Every time Sukuna tries to steal a kiss, Yuji is there, blocking his path and repeating his stern proclamation: "No smoochie kiss for Y/N/N!"

On Monday, Sukuna tries to catch you in the hallway. He corners you with that predatory grace of his, leaning in as his hand cups your cheek. But just as his lips are about to meet yours, Yuji appears seemingly out of nowhere, wedging himself between the two of you.

"Suku, no!" he says, pushing at Sukuna's legs. "Y/N/N is mine!"

You laugh again, the sound bubbling up uncontrollably. Sukuna sighs, but there's a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You're relentless, aren't you?"

"Yup!" Yuji beams up at him, looking proud of his efforts.

Tuesday morning finds you in the living room, sitting on the couch with a book in hand. Sukuna slides in beside you, his arm slipping around your shoulders. Before you can even think to lean into him, Yuji's head pops up from behind the couch.

"Mine!" he shouts, his little arms waving in the air as he clambers over the back of the couch to wedge himself between you and Sukuna.

You shake your head, trying to suppress your laughter. Sukuna, ever patient (well, as patient as Sukuna can be), simply sighs again, but this time he pulls you and Yuji into a group hug. "Fine. I'll share, for now."

Yuji snuggles in between you two, looking entirely too pleased with himself. "Good!"

"Why were you behind the couch?" You ask the boy. 

"Because I know Suku is sneaky," Yuji says, narrowing his eyes at his older brother. 

Wednesday brings another challenge. Sukuna, determined to have his moment with you, tries to sneak a kiss while Yuji is distracted by his toys. You're in the kitchen, washing dishes, when Sukuna wraps his arms around your waist from behind. His lips brush against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

Just as he's about to press his lips to yours, Yuji's voice rings out from the doorway. "Suku! No smoochie kiss!"

Sukuna groans, dropping his forehead to your shoulder in defeat. "Does he have radar or something?"

You giggle, turning in his arms to face him. "Seems like it."

Thursday is perhaps the funniest day of all. You're at the park, watching Yuji play on the swings. Sukuna sees this as his golden opportunity. He sidles up to you, his hand slipping into yours as he leans down, aiming for a kiss.

Yuji, who you thought was engrossed in his swinging, suddenly leaps off, running toward you with surprising speed for someone his age. "No, Suku! No smoochie kiss!"

Sukuna straightens up, shaking his head with a chuckle. "You're really not giving me any breaks, are you?"

"Nope!" Yuji grins, hugging your leg. "Mine."

By Friday, it's become a game. Sukuna tries to catch you alone, and Yuji always seems to thwart his plans at the last second. It's a dance of sorts, filled with laughter and playful banter. Despite his grumbling, you can tell Sukuna is secretly enjoying the challenge. There's a softness in his eyes whenever he looks at Yuji, a fondness that makes your heart swell.

Saturday morning, you decide to take matters into your own hands. After all, a whole week without kissing your boyfriend is quite a stretch. You wait until Yuji is napping, his little body curled up on the couch with his favourite blanket. You find Sukuna in the kitchen, his back to you as he prepares lunch.

Silently, you creep up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist. He tenses for a moment, then relaxes when he realizes it's you. Turning in your arms, he smirks down at you. "Sneaking up on me now, huh?"

"Desperate times call for desperate measures," you say with a smile.

Sukuna's hands cup your face, his thumbs gently brushing over your cheeks. "Well, in that case..."

He leans down, capturing your lips in a kiss that's been a week in the making. It's soft and tender, yet filled with the intensity that only Sukuna can bring. You melt into him, your fingers curling into his shirt as you deepen the kiss.

Just as you're getting lost in the moment, a sleepy voice pipes up from the doorway. "Suku... no smoochie kiss..."

You break apart, both of you turning to see Yuji rubbing his eyes, his blanket trailing behind him as he shuffles into the kitchen.

Sukuna chuckles, shaking his head. "This kid..."

You kneel down, opening your arms to Yuji. "Come here, sweetheart."

Yuji toddles over, crawling into your lap. He looks up at Sukuna with a pout. "No smoochie kiss, Suku."

Sukuna kneels beside you, his hand ruffling Yuji's hair. "Alright, alright. No smoochie kiss."

Yuji beams, satisfied with his victory. He snuggles into your arms, closing his eyes again.

You share a look with Sukuna over Yuji's head, a silent understanding passing between you. For all his grumbling, you know Sukuna wouldn't trade these moments for anything. Yuji's protectiveness is endearing, a testament to how much he loves you both.

The rest of the weekend passes in much the same way, with Yuji constantly on guard, ensuring no "smoochie kisses" take place. It's a funny, adorable phase, one that you're sure will pass soon enough.

By Sunday night, as you're tucking Yuji into bed, he looks up at you with those big, innocent eyes. "Y/N/N?"

"Yes, Yuji?"

"Why do you and Suku like smoochie kisses so much?"

You smile, brushing a lock of hair from his forehead. "Because it's a way to show we love each other."

Yuji considers this for a moment, his little brow furrowing in thought. "Can I have a smoochie kiss?"

Your heart melts. "Of course you can, sweetheart."

You lean down, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. Yuji giggles, wrapping his arms around your neck. "I love you, Y/N/N."

"I love you too, Yuji. So, so much."

You finish tucking him in, making sure he's snug and comfortable. As you close his bedroom door and turn around, you find Sukuna leaning against the wall, watching you with a soft smile.

"Looks like I'm off the hook," he says, pushing off the wall to wrap his arms around you.

"For now," you tease, leaning into him.

He chuckles, his lips finding yours in a kiss that's been too long in coming. It's sweet and lingering, a promise of many more to come.

As the days turn into weeks, Yuji eventually eases up on his no "smoochie kiss" rule. He still likes to remind Sukuna every now and then, but it's more playful than serious. The three of you find a balance, a rhythm that works for your little family.

Sukuna still teases Yuji, calling him his little guardian, and Yuji proudly accepts the title. There are days when Sukuna's patience is tested, but the love he has for both you and Yuji shines through, even in the most chaotic moments.

[dearly-somber]

Haircut | j.jk

-> pairing. wolf shifter!jungkook x human!reader (f)

-> genre. slow burn, fluff, f2l (friends-to-lovers), humor, found family, angst, drama, eventual romance, eventual smut, high school!au

-> w/c. 1982

-> rating. 13+

-> a/n. This ended so silly so goofy smdhjaheb

-> warnings. None!!

-> collection. mini-series

-> started. Aug. 14th, 2022 @ 19:49

-> fin. Thurs., Nov. 20th, 2023 @ 04:43

-> edited. Fri., Dec. 1st, 2023 @ 12:55

-> divider credit. @mmadeinheavenn

“You’re kidding right?”

Jungkook pouts, looking down at his hands with a furrow in his brow. “No…”

Y/N laughs, rocking forward to smack his knee familiarly. “You seriously got detention because your hair was too long? That’s ridiculous!”

“I know,” he whines, running a hand through said hair and sighing deeply as he lays back with his legs crossed, splaying his arms over the bed.

Y/N giggles as she stands, sympathetically patting his shoulder. “Is there really no way out of it?”

“Not unless I can book an appointment before school tomorrow.” Y/N cringes. “Yeah,” he sighs.

It’s so dumb. He didn’t get in trouble the entire week! Not one teacher mentioned it, and then during his last period on a Thursday evening, bam! Detention slip. And, obviously, it was from his least favorite teacher, Ms Kang, who he was pretty sure hated his guts for no other reason than she couldn’t fuck him. He’s honestly surprised that she hasn’t been reported for sexual harassment yet, but he swears if she touches his shoulder in class one more time…

Jungkook’s brought back to the present at the sound of drawers opening and closing, his attention piqued. The thing that spurs him into motion is the realization that Y/N is rummaging through his drawers and she might accidentally happen upon his underwear.

“What’re you looking for?” he asks, pushing up off the bed to sit with his feet hanging off the side.

“A comb.” She closes his sock drawer with a sigh. “Do you have one?”

His eyes flit to the hand she has wrapped around the dreaded underwear drawer handle. “In my bathroom. Why?”

She mutters to herself, “‘Course it’s in the bathroom, why didn’t I think of that?” Then, louder, “Wanna comb your hair first.”

“‘First’?” Jungkook repeats quizzically.

“Mm,” she hums, turning to him with a smile. “Gonna cut it for you.”

His eyes widen. “Seriously?”

“Sure!” She pulls him into the bathroom by his wrist, crouching to dig through his sink cupboard and turning back to him with a smile on her face and a comb in her hand.

“Uh…” Jungkook isn’t sure what to think. Does he like it when she plays with his hair? Yes. Does he trust her with his life? More than yes.

But his hair?

“I think I’d rather just go to detention…”

She punches his arm with a shake of her head. “My dad’s a barber, dickhead. I’m gonna get the water ready so long—can you change into swim shorts?”

“I…” Jungkook wants to say no and drag her back to bed so they could watch their silly little dramas and forget about how their plans to go to the movies tomorrow would be canceled because of some stupid detention slip, but Y/N’s eyes are sparkling and her voice is light, so he groans instead.

She smiles knowingly, turning her back to him as she starts fiddling with the handles in the bath, the water running as he goes to change, closing the bathroom door behind him.

He pulls his pants down and briefly considers changing out of his boxers before ultimately deciding to keep it on under the plain black swimming trunk he pulls out of his bottommost drawer.

He’s a little nervous for whatever Y/N has planned, but more than that, he’s excited. Whatever this is, he can feel deep in his stomach it’s going to be domestic and likely set his wolf off in the most pleasant way.

As he enters the bathroom, his eyes fall on Y/N. She’s standing inside the bath with her pants rolled up just under her knees, her shirt sleeves rolled up above her elbow, a comb and a bottle of shampoo in her hands.

“Well?” She beckons him closer. “What’re you waiting for?” Jungkook lets out a baffled laugh. She leads him inside the bathtub before gently pressing down on his shoulders so he’s facing the wall with his back to her, his legs crossed in front of him.

He feels Y/N slot her feet next to him, feels how her legs cocoon his arms. The water is pleasantly warm around his lap as she begins brushing through his unruly strands of hair.

She giggles softly. “I can’t believe you didn’t cut your hair,” she says, running her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck.

“I didn’t think it was long enough to get me in trouble,” he grumbles with his eyes closed. “We grow our hair out all the time, so no one thought it would be an issue.”

Truthfully, Jungkook didn’t want to cut it because he knew Y/N liked it long, and wanted an excuse to keep it that way.

She tsks playfully, dragging the comb from the very top of his head (literally an inch short of his forehead) all the way down to the shorter strands of hair at his nape. “Guess it gives me an excuse to play with your hair, huh?”

“Guess so,” he mumbles, his chest warm and bubbly. “I didn’t know your dad was a barber,” he says.

“I guess it’s never really come up in conversation,” she replies, setting the comb aside and reaching for the detachable shower-head. She tests the temperature on her palm, water dripping onto the side of Jungkook’s arm before she interrupts with a little gasp, “Shit! I forgot about your shirt.”

“It’s fine.” Jungkook waves her off. “I’ll change into a different one when you’re done.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah.”

Jungkook imagines Y/N skeptically biting her lip. “Alright. Lemme know if the water’s too hot, yeah?”

Jungkook grunts as a reply, a soft noise leaving his lips without him meaning to at the feel of the water on his scalp.

She runs her fingers over his head, cupping her hands over his eyes to stop the water from going into his face.

“Did…did your dad teach you how to do all this stuff?” Jungkook asks, his brows furrowing as his wolf croons at the way Y/N lathers shampoo into his hair.

“Yeah, kinda,” she replies focused-sounding. “He took me to work sometimes, so I watched him a lot. Picked up on most of it that way, if I wasn’t asking questions.”

“That sounds really nice,” he mumbles distractedly, smiling softly at the image of baby-Y/N being taught how to wash one of those Barbie head’s hair properly.

“It was.” She makes sure to get the shampoo in the hair behind his ears as well. Jungkook can’t help but sigh contentedly, unable to find it in himself to care when Y/N giggles teasingly.

“You good?” she asks, a smile in her voice.

“Feels really nice,” Jungkook replies softly, his heart probably beating slow enough to make a cardiologist worry for his health.

After Y/N lathers the shampoo on, she rinses his hair out, applies conditioner, rinses that out, and then gently taps his shoulder. “C’mon Wolfy, let’s go downstairs.”

“Wolfy?”

“What?”

Jungkook smiles wide at her offended pout, throwing the towel she hands him over his shoulders. “Nothing, nothing.”

“Whatever,” she humphs. “Go down to the kitchen when you’re done changing so we can cut your hair.”

Jungkook salutes. “On it!”

🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕

“Okay, you ready?” Y/N asks, excitedly snipping the scissors next to his ear.

Even though Jungkook feels his stomach drop, he puts on a brave face. “Let’s go!”

Y/N grins, running the comb through his hair one last time before pulling the longer strands of hair at the nape of his neck between her forefinger and middle finger, waiting a second before quickly snipping off the hair.

“Your hair’s gotten so long…”

“Should you be talking right now? Shouldn’t you focus on not cutting off too much?”

“Yah!” Y/N laughs in disbelief as she smacks his shoulder with the fist she has closed around the comb, tsking disappointedly as she continues snipping at his hair. She moves strategically around the back of his head, eventually maneuvering around to the front to cut his bangs.

“Seriously though, your hair’s grown a lot. I didn’t think you’d ever let it get this long.” She brushes through his hair again.

“Why?” he asks with closed eyes, both to keep the conversation going and also out of genuine curiosity.

She shrugs. “I dunno. You just never seemed like a long-hair kinda guy? It looks good on you, though. The long hair, I mean.”

“What else would you mea—stop hitting me!” Jungkook pouts as he brings a hand up to rub at his bicep, scowling under his bangs.

“Just…shut up. Stop nitpicking everything I say.”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry. Don’t be mad, eh?” He reaches out to tug at her shirt, smiling satisfied when she huffs defeatedly and pats his hand before she starts cutting bangs.

“All hairstyles look good on you, though. It’s kind of unfair, actually.”

Jungkook scoffs, letting his eyes drift closed as Y/N grabs the blow-dryer (which he assumes she brought down from one of the bathrooms) and plugs it into a socket on the wall. She starts it up, then immediately stops.

He turns his head to the side to look at her. “What?”

“I’ve never thought to ask, but does the sound not hurt your ears?”

Jungkook frowns for a second, then lights up in understanding the next. “Oh! No, not really. It’s loud, sure, but you’d have to have really sensitive ears for it to hurt.”

“Ah, okay.” Y/N nods as she puts one hand on his shoulder, standing behind him. “Just wanted to make sure I wouldn’t hurt you.”

As the blow dryer turns on and drowns out any attempt at conversation, Jungkook can’t help but smile to himself.

She doesn’t want to hurt him. That’s a relief. Hopefully, she won’t have to. Soon, right? At the very least, Jungkook knows any hurt isn’t intentional…

🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕

“Alright! We’re done!”

You set the dryer to the side as you pull the plug out of the socket, walking around to look at the finished product of your hard work, only to find him asleep.

You smile softly at the way Jungkook’s chin rests against his chest, lips slightly parted in sleep. His hair is not only shorter now (even though you kept some of the length, because you couldn’t find it in yourself to cut it all off), but it’s clean and fluffy and it makes you want to run your fingers through it.

Which you do—you reach out and card your fingers through his bangs and over his scalp, just kind of fondly staring at him while he sleeps, before realizing that that might be a bit weird.

“Jungkook?” Your voice is softer than you meant it to be, but you don’t mind. He’s so innocent when he’s asleep, it’s kind of awe-inducing. “Kookie?”

“Mngf?” Jungkook’s eyes open blearily, confusedly sitting straighter in his chair as he takes in his surroundings.

“I’m done, Koo. Go lay down on the couch if you’re feeling tired, you’ll hurt your neck.”

He grumbles something under his voice as he gets up from the chair, towering over you (damn his long legs).

Your eyes widen in surprise when Jungkook sleepily stumbles toward you, nuzzling into your neck as his arms wrap weakly around your middle. “Thanks, Bunny.”

You’re beyond happy that Jungkook can’t read minds, because in that moment you find yourself—for the split of a second—thinking about Jungkook in a not-so-best-friend way. “Sure, Kook.”

He drags himself to the couch, unceremoniously climbing over the back and flopping onto his stomach with a loud oof.

You press the back of your hands to your cheeks in order to cool them down, shaking yourself free of the stupid butterflies in your stomach as you grab a broom and sweep your best friend’s auburn hair out to the backyard.

Stupid haircut…

<- prev | next ->

[kelseytheballerina]

my schedule for nun mode

Sunday, Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday:

4am wake up, pray

Freshen up, AM skincare

1 hour stretch routine

~5:45 go for a walk or practice ballet at home

7-10am grammar practice

10-2pm vocab practice

2pm read a book

3-5pm working

Cook dinner

Dishes

Review todays notes

PM skincare

Pray before bed

Monday, Wednesday, Friday

4am wake up, pray

Freshen up, AM skincare

1 hour stretch routine

~5:45 go for a walk or practice ballet at home

7-10am grammar practice

10-1pm [3 hour errand/chore/etc block] *

1-2pm vocab practice

2pm read

3-5pm working

Cook dinner

Dishes

Review todays notes

PM skincare

Pray before bed

*As you can see, there are three days (M,W,F) that have a 3 hour block with nothing specific to do. This is to account for grocery shopping, dropping off packages, deep conditioning and restyling my hair, long chores, reorganizing things, building/setting up something I bought, you get the idea. Things that don’t exactly go on a daily schedule or that happen at irregular times. On days where I literally have everything already taken care of and that block is free, I’ll probably use those blocks for extracurriculars I don’t want to neglect during this challenge like ice skating, which I thoroughly enjoy but couldn’t find consistent time for them on this schedule, so this works for me.

As with any schedule, sometimes life gets in the way. I have doctors appointments that will interfere sometimes. I may need to head to the kitchen sooner than scheduled in order to have more time to cook a meal that takes longer than usual. It’s fine to have days that don’t go 100% according to plan. What matters is to not intentionally mess up your schedule with your own laziness and to try to stay on track tomorrow.

I expect Saturdays to very rarely (if ever) be completely perfect since my husband doesn’t work that day and we spend a lot of time together going out and doing activities. I’ll stick to my plan as much as possible but also allow myself to stop when necessary. That’s balance.

[hippolotamus]

Inspiration Saturday 🪩

Tagged by the delightful @thekristen999 @daffi-990 @lemonzestywrites @bidisasterevankinard @wikiangela

@theotherbuckley for Fuck it Friday. Thank you darlin’s (tagging you back for today) mwah! 💖

Made a lil moodboard for today's snippet. I'm not in love with all the words but that's what editing is for. So, here's Buck visiting Eddie's workplace for the first time. Surprise (because I don't think I've mentioned this before???) Eddie's not a firefighter in this either. He's a mechanic who works with a bunch of homophobic jerks. But also with Hen! Buck knows Eddie isn't out to most people so this is an... enlightening moment for him. Some of it's under the cut to save your dash. masterlist of posts here and no I'm not writing this remotely in order

“Oh, thank fuck,” he mumbles to himself when he pulls the door open and is greeted with a cool blast of air conditioning. 

Looking around the interior, he thinks it could pass for a museum. A snapshot in time, forever preserved exactly as it was. Gold framed articles about the 1973 grand re-opening hang on the wood-paneled walls alongside prints of hot rods and muscle cars. There are vintage metal signs mixed in for Shell, Texaco, Gulf, and some other brands he’s never heard of. 

“Do you have an appointment?” A gravelly voice asks from behind him.

Buck jerks around to the desk where a middle aged woman with auburn hair and green gray eyes glares at him with a mix of boredom and curiosity. Or maybe suspicion? He can't quite tell.

Her bronzed skin is littered with freckles and screams that she’s spent too much time outside with no sunscreen or other protection. A name plate, half hidden under papers and key rings, identifies her as Estelle. He’s heard a few stories about her from Eddie, but he’s not sure any of them did her intimidating demeanor justice.

“Uh, no?” He answers, not sure why it comes out as a question other than he’s not entirely convinced the five foot something couldn’t somehow manage to hurt him. 

It must take every ounce of strength to conceal the whole body sigh she wants to make as she looks down, licks her fingertip and begins flipping through a giant paper scheduling book. “If you don’t have an appointment I can maybe get you in next Thursday. Depending on what you need.”

“Actually, uh, I don’t need anything.” Estelle glances up, mouth slightly parted and eyes narrowed as if she’s about to ask what he’s doing standing in her lobby. He quickly adds, “Well, what I mean is, my car doesn’t need anything. I’m here to see Eddie? Uh, Eddie Diaz.”

She nods with something like understanding. At least he hopes that’s what it is as she picks up the phone receiver and punches in a few numbers.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Hey, is Diaz around? Someone here asking about him.” 

“No, it’s not the cops! What’s the matter with you? I don’t know. Just some guy here looking for Eddie.”

Estelle huffs an exasperated sigh and looks toward the ceiling like it’ll give her strength. “Jay, I don’t have time for twenty questions and, quite frankly, I don’t care.”

“About time you quit screwin’ around. Send him out.” She hangs up the receiver and mutters something about not caring that he’s a relative. 

“He’ll be a few minutes. Take a seat.” She gestures to a line of metal chairs with sticky looking vinyl cushions without so much as glancing in Buck’s direction. 

He momentarily gets excited when he spots a gumball machine in the corner until he realizes it would require actual coins that he definitely doesn’t have. And he’s not about to ask Estelle if she’s got change for a twenty just so he can satisfy his sweet tooth. 

“Buck?” Eddie appears from a side door, wiping his hands on a rag. His hair is sweaty and mussed, likely from pushing it out of his face. His gorgeous, kissable face that Buck very much wants to kiss even more right now despite the streaks and smudges of god knows what decorating it. The corner of Eddie’s mouth twitches like he knows what Buck is thinking, but he clears his throat and schools it just as quickly when Estelle grunts, reminding them they’re at his workplace. 

“Uh, Buck. Hi. What can I do for you?” Eddie tilts his chin in the direction of the parking lot. “Everything okay with the jeep?”  

“Hi,” Buck answers, a little too breathy for their current situation. He can’t seem to help himself. Eddie’s always cleaned up when they meet, whether it’s at the club, a date out somewhere or an evening in. He’s never seen him marked up from his job, in his grimy army green coveralls. 

“Uh, yeah. Jeep’s fine. Just, you know, was nearby and thought I’d stop in.” Buck tracks the movement as Eddie’s tongue darts out, wetting his lips, before sneaking him a flirty, amused smirk. 

“Glad you did.” Eddie chances a look at Estelle who still has her head down, shuffling some papers that probably don’t need it. He takes a step closer and lowers his voice. “I haven’t taken my lunch yet. Give me five and we can get out of here?”

Buck nods, not knowing how to respond without giving anything away. 

Eddie puts more distance between them again, sticking his hand out. Buck takes it, thrown by the familiarity of his boyfriend mixed with the very conventional, socially acceptable handshake. “Great to see you again, Buck. Check that place on Viscount Boulevard. I think you’ll find what you’re looking for.”

“Uh, yeah. Thanks,” Buck answers, reluctantly letting their palms slide apart. But he gets it. Eddie’s coworkers are all a bunch of ignorant, homophobic assholes. Well, except for Hen apparently. Regardless, Eddie can’t be risking his job and livelihood when he has Chris to think about. “I’ll go check it out. You said it’s about... ten minutes from here?”

“About that, yeah. Maybe fifteen.”

A warm, fluttering feeling washes over him as Eddie winks and smiles, seeming pleased that Buck caught on to his little game. He has to force himself to turn around and leave instead of watching his boyfriend walk away. 

“Have a nice day,” Estelle says as he opens the door, setting off a chime. It’s enough to snap him out of his haze, offering a weak ‘you too’ as he hurries back to his jeep.

np tagging @actuallyitsellie @epicbuddieficrecs @loveyouanyway @a-noble-dragon @tizniz

@mountedeverest @fortheloveofbuddie @weewootruck @saybiwithme @shipperqueen6

@ramonaflow @taketheplanspinitsideways @spotsandsocks @dangerpronebuddie @stereopticons

@kitteneddiediaz @mrs-f-darcy @drowsy-quill @your-catfish-friend @filet-o-feelings

@underwaterninja13 @lizzie-bennetdarcy @rainbow-nerdss @steadfastsaturnsrings @queenmabcreates

@inell @jesuisici33 @rmd-writes @shortsighted-owl @queerbuckleys

@bi-buckrights @elvensorceress @bucksbiawakening @giddyupbuck @hoodie-buck

@indestructibleheart @ladydorian05 @monsterrae1 @statueinthestone @slightlyobsessedwitheverything

@the-likesofus @thewolvesof1998 @watchyourbuck @welcometololaland @wildlife4life and anyone else who wants to 😘

[kelin-is-writing]

warnings: +18, fwb to lovers, college au, quirkless au, protected sex, public sex, overstimulation, body worshipping (?), tiny bit of angst, hint of breeding kink (if you squint hard), touya is one year older than reader, lots of pet names, two dorks pinning on each others.

characters: touya todoroki x fem!reader

words count: 7,9k

notes: look... i’m confused as much as you guys are over the length of this fic. but i got inspired so much by a bunch of songs in my dabi playlist and before i knew it things turned out like this. hope you guys like it 💜

you remember meeting with touya todoroki a month after the new semester at your college started, at a party thrown by toga himiko who was a new acquaintance of yours that is friend with the handsome white haired senior; everything started when you two got introduced to each others by the blond girl and his intense gaze fell upon you making a shiver run down your spine, this resulted in you straightening your posture under his amused expression while you replied with a glare that only made his grin widen.

as the party progressed, a glass of drink lead to another and before you knew it his lips were on yours ferociously, hands down palming your butt cheeks and fondling them as he made you walk back into toga’s room and fall onto your friend’s bed while you kept running your hands through the senior’s hair. if you two had sex that night? hell yeah you did, the most fantastic sex you’ve ever had to date.

touya knew what he was doing and he was extremely good at it.

after that night the two of you run a lot into each other since toga was your common friend. in one way or another you two always ended up having sex again which is why after the fifth time you two did it, at his shared apartment with shigaraki and shuichi when they were out with the group, the two of you settled for a friends with benefits relationship seen how good your chemistry was whether under the sheets or out of them.

when choosing the rules for the agreement, one was to not fall in love with the other party and that in the case one of the two does, your relationship would end right away.

needless to say that despite knowing the rule and what you were getting yourself into, you ended up falling for touya eventually but never said a word about it and just act around him like you always do, so that relationship would last as long as possible because you weren’t yet ready to cut ties with him (nor you will ever be, but yeah...).

another rule was that if any of the two parties wanted, you could have sex with whomever you want outside of your relationship and you obviously agreed at the beginning since falling for that cocky and arrogant dumbass of touya wasn’t exactly in your bingo book.

ohh how bad you regretted agreeing to that dumb rule when last week you saw him make out in the school’s corridor with a female senior who was clinging to him like an octopus, making you clench your jaw and swallow the urge to scream at her to get off from him because he’s yours only to kiss, but of course that was out of question.

you two were almost nothing to each others after all.

after that you spent the next week either ghosting him, avoiding him, making up excuses to not meet with touya or came out on the spot with commissions to do, appointments and such, also limiting like this the remote possibility of being with him in a room and get swept into the mood only to end up having sex somewhere like always.

it was thursday, already, and you were packing your things to go at home hopefully without coming across touya, when another male voice reached to your ears:

“y/n do you have the chemistry notes from this morning’s class? i came in the second hour so i couldn’t follow the lecture.”, your classmate, shinsou, asked walking up to you after your last class of the day, standing next to you at the very end of the classroom as the other students left.

“sure, just bring them to me tomorrow okay?”, after some fumbling where you took out almost everything from inside your bag, you hand him a blue notebook before glancing up at the boy with a mocking grin. “you slept in again?”, when the boy looked away annoyed clicking his tongue you giggled slightly, amused by how chaotic he was despite the image that everyone pinned on him, which was the opposite of his actual personality.

“shut it please, i got mocked enough by fucking monoma.”, that made you giggled once more lifting an hand to cover your mouth. he looked down at you silently for a brief moment before keeping on. “are you not sleeping well? you got eye bags and your eyes are a little swollen too... is everything okay?”, he inquired lifting an hand to rest it on your cheek and rubbing his thumb under your eye; as expected from shinsou, of course this smartass would notice easily these kind of things.

“oh... you know, midterms are coming up and the perfectionist in me wants everything to be spot on, maybe i overdid it though...”, you ended with a little giggle while moving away from his touch, trying to not seem awkward.

it’s just that it felt so weird and wrong to you for someone who isn’t touya to touch you, and yet for the white haired senior seemed easy to replace you with some other unknown girl.

ahh damn... now i feel like crying..., pressing tightly your lips together you tried with all your might to not shed a tear and miraculously you succeeded, sniffling briefly from your nose while moving a strand of hair behind your ear.

the boy looked at you in contemplation for a while before he decided to keep talking:

“y/n do you have some time one of these days? i would like to–“

“oi shinsou, did you get lost or wha–“, kirishima cut himself off freezing at the door when he saw the two of you in the middle of talking, eyes fixed in your direction and his usual carefree smile on, arm lifted mid-air with a waving frozen hand. “ah shit...”, he cursed unfreezing from his pose and looking at you too exasperated with his own self.

shinsou sighed heavily before turning to you, his usual deadpan expression on as he put the notebook inside his bag.

“guess i’ll talk to you tomorrow, keep some minutes free for me okay? see you.”, he simply greet a confused you with an enigmatic smile on his lips that you didn’t get very well, so unnecessarily mysterious.

“sure, see you.”, was your empty reply said while wondering what was that he wanted tell you, after all yeah... you two were friends that got closer this last week, bonding over every students’ struggle, but not even remotely that close so it made you really curious.

you watched him walk up to kirishima and give him a whack on his chest, making the red head back out of the classroom apologizing loudly, as they left your line of sight quickly leaving you alone in an empty class too big for your small frame.

sighing tiredly you turned to your bag starting to put all your things inside once again; while working your books and notebooks inside it your hand brushed against something that made you jump slightly.

when you took it out you saw a keychain with a small white tiger plushy attached to it and your heart sank. it was the one touya got you after school because you laughed about how it reminded you of him and now the urge to cry came back right away.

you miss him so damn much. you were down for him horrendously to react this way about every single thing that reminds you of the boy, even the slightest thing.

something white at the front door off the classroom caught your attention, you looked up right away and when you saw who was there your eyes went wide from the shock.

touya was standing at the doorway leaning against its side with hands in the pockets of his jeans, a glare full of anger and something else you couldn’t pinpoint directed at you that made your breath hitch briefly.

“why are you here?”, you asked in a small tone, doubting he heard you with how minuscule your voice was when you spoke.

he parted from the door side walking up to you with a spiteful smirk on his handsome face that made you shiver, the boy looked more than ready to demolish you and it was obvious only by the aura surrounding him.

“ohh well you know, a certain someone has been avoiding me aaall week so i had to come pick her up once for all and guess what i saw?”, his tone was so sarcastic and full of venom that it had made you wince slightly when he made that question. his eyes turned darker and more intense as they looked at you, a cold smile on his lips. “i saw her wagging her tail at someone else, when she’s mine.”, touya finished in one breath, an inch away from you, voice becoming deeper and raspy as his eyes bored into yours with a burning desire inside him that made your throat dry.

“whatever you’re talking about.”, you brushed him off trying to play it cool before moving in front at your desk, going back to put your things inside your bag so you could leave faster that room filled with much more tension than you could handle. “and i’m not yours. can you keep your possessive hands off of me senpai?”, and sighed heavily exhausted from all that situation, wanting only to finally get home and get to bed after a long bath.

“spare me the ‘senpai’ bullshit, you’ve never called me that way so why start now?” silence. touya clenched his jaw tightly, the veins on his neck pulsing from the rage. “and you now even have the guts to say that after everything we’ve done together?”, touya barked gritting his teethes as he stared darts into you while standing in the hallway between the desks, clenched fists, trying hard to face you about what’s going on between the two of you these last weeks while you keep running away from him.

“what have we done exactly?”, you asked turning to him gazing up at the older with exasperation and pain all over your features. “aren’t you misunderstanding something here? we’re just friends with benefits, nothing more nothing less.”, you reminded him with a bittersweet feeling inside of you that kept heaving up inside your chest; you found yourself speechless though when seeing the white haired boy stare back at you with wide turquoise eyes that had pain and disappointment deep inside of them, lips parted not letting out a single sound from how speechless he was, you felt a pang inside your chest that made you waver.

touya collected himself so fast that for a moment you thought of having dreamed of that expression, he swallowed thickly looking down for a brief second before lifting his gaze on you and was about to speak if only you hadn’t spoke up, cutting him off:

“besides, why don’t you go nag to that senpai you were kissing the other day? i bet she would be more than happy to get your full attention on her.”, ugh... that came out more harsh and less collected than how you wanted it to sound, now he was going to get pissed at you and break off your agreement, this way there was nothing to tie you two together anymore.

touya stared at you shocked by those words blinking few times while a little satisfied smile tugged at the corners of his lips, he forced himself to turn serious right away by clearing his throat though, because there was no way that what he was thinking was true right? right?

“wait y/n, don’t tell me you’re jealous...?”, he asked leaning a little to the side to get a glimpse of your face; when the boy saw your face beet red, eyes narrowed, eyebrows furrowed and pouty lips his heart skipped a beat as he stared shocked at you for a few seconds.

“o-of course not! why would i be jealous? we ain’t dating or anything after all!”, you replied putting frantically your belongings inside the bag, not having enough courage to look at him and the face he was making.

“you’re such a bad liar.”, he whispered huskily inside your ear making you jump slightly and turn behind only to find yourself caged between his body and the desk, azure clear eyes burning on your skin hotly and you automatically held your breath back.

“i-i’m not–”

“what?”

your surprised expression melted into a pleading one as you felt so conflicted by that whole situation between you two.

god... that expression made touya want to pounce on you so bad, it was too tempting to not do nothing about it.

he took your chin between his rings decorated thumb and index lifting your face a little more, before you could say anything the boy leaned down pressing his lips against yours.

you were taken aback for a moment by that, but afterwards you put an hand on his chest pushing him away parting with a loud ‘smooch’, head dropped down and lips pulled back painfully.

“please don’t do this...”, you breathed out squeezing your eyes close to not let tears come out.

“why?”, he inquired with grim voice staring down at you upset by your words, hands resting on the wood surface behind your figure.

“because i don’t want it...”, you half lied to the older, never looking up at him; the kiss wasn’t a problem itself, but you were too much in love with touya right now to let him do that so casually and with no feelings whatsoever.

“you got no problem with that shinsou fucker touching you, but when i’m the one doing it is no good? what the heck...”, he spat coldly frowning deeply at the thought of that brat’s filthy hands touching you, it made his blood boil with rage.

you stared at him with wide eyes, never expecting him to say something like that and tilting your head slightly to peek at him, you finally broke the tense silence around the two of you:

“touya are you perhaps... jealous?”, it was your turn to tease him a little with a little amused smile curling your lips, hearing another round of silence you kept on to clarify yourself right away, thinking he may have got mad at that assumption. “i was just kidding so–”

“what are you gonna do if i was to say that, yes i am jealous?”, he cut you off lifting his head to stare intensely into your eyes, making a shiver run down your spine when you saw the seriousness inside his azure orbs mixed with possessiveness, lust and... love?

after a few seconds where you just kept staring into his eyes, heart thumping hard and fast inside your chest, you moved closer resting both hands on his chest tippy-toeing leaning closer to his handsome face pressing your lips flush against his.

touya felt his breath hitch inside his throat as he looked at your closed eyes longingly, a whimper escaping his mouth and disappearing into the kiss, arms that went right away to surround your waist pulling you against him while licking your lower lip hungrily and biting onto it not able to wait anymore after being deprived of you for a whole week.

he sneaked his tongue inside your mouth the second you parted your lips angling his head on his right kissing you so possessively and with such a passion your knees were about to give up on you making you crash onto the floor if the older wasn’t holding you up. for some reason, today you were feeling it more than the other time... was it because it has been a week since the last time you two met? or was it because this was your first kiss after you’ve finally come to accept your feelings for him? you didn’t know, what you knew though was that you wanted desperately more.

when the two of you parted, out of breath, his hazy half-lidded eyes meet your teary with lust ones while a string of saliva connected your mouths for a brief second before dissolving into thin air, leaving behind only both of your lips swollen and red.

“i love you.”

to your complete surprise, the one to say that first was touya, leaving you completely speechless staring at him with wide eyes like he was some kind of alien which made the boy snort, amused by your expression.

“you’re kidding...”, you spoke with trembling voice, trying to convince yourself rather than pointing it out at him, tears blurring building up in your eyes unable to believe the words you’ve wished to hear from him probably since even before your ‘friends with benefits’ relationship has started. have you been always in love with him and never realized or what? because how were you this overwhelmed by those three words said by him.

“you know i’m not.”, and he was right, inside his eyes there wasn’t even the slightest hint of joking and that made your tears start roll down your cheeks. “whatta cry baby you are, y/n.”, and resting an hand on the crook of your neck he leaned in at the side of your face going to delicately lick away a tear that was on your cheekbone, the gesture making you flinch slightly and turn red because he was used to do it every time the two of you had sex.

“who’s fault is it?”, you teased resting your hands on his chest and shying away from his touch, looking away completely flushed all over your cheeks while touya stared down at you with a satisfied grin.

“mine. i know baby, i know.”, he giggled back hugging you flush against his body, hand going behind your head caressing it tenderly as he kissed the side of your neck after moving away your hair from it. “just like when i make you mine over and over every night.”, the white haired senior whispered against your skin licking the spot he had kissed previously, chills running down your back making you let out a brief pant while resting an hand on his shoulder and moving back to face him.

“you’re so annoying seriously!”, you exclaimed turning your back at him peeved at how he kept winning over you, even managing to have your heartbeats fasten up with the slightest touch or movement.

“that’s not what you really want to tell me, isn’t it?”, he whispered huskily holding you from behind and looming his face close to yours from above your shoulder, nose pressed against your cheek as his eyes looked down at you, cocky. “come on, say it... what you’ve been dying to tell me...”, touya kept on leaving a brief kiss on the back of your ear that covered your skin in goosebumps, while his hands went to rest on your hips as he pressed his chest flush with your back.

you pouted timidly before turning to your left and being meet with his shit-eating grin, eyes looking down at you satisfied by seeing you like that because of him, it tickled his ego so good.

“i love you.”, you whispered softly gazing up at him from under your eyelashes, sending him and his heart into the orbit without even realizing it; god weren’t you the most beautiful, sweetest and precious princess to him who has behaved like an heartless villain to you only for the sake of protecting himself from losing his mind too much because of you. in the end, even when trying to put a limit to his own being, he ended up falling for you to the point of no return.

touya leaned into you placing a brief kiss on your bottom lip before pressing your lips together and forcing his tongue inside your mouth confidently, knowing very well that you wouldn’t refute him, it was written all over your face how much you missed and wanted him despite that cute pout on your pretty face.

suddenly you felt the tip of his index press on your clit from over your skirt, sending a spark of pleasure through your whole body that made you moan into the kiss, while his lips curled instantly up in a cocky smirk that did piss you off a little bit honestly.

“is my babygirl turned on?”, he mumbled between kisses opening his eyes and staring into yours hungrily. “in a place like this? that’s a lewd~”, touya cooed smirking wolfishly while twirling his finger over your clothed clit, his other hand sneaking up to play with your left breast making you start breath heavily from your nose as he kept kissing you with no pause.

“that’s because... you keep... touching my clit– ahh!”, you moaned out against his mouth nearly falling down from the amount of pleasure, he dropped his hand to rest on your abdomen and press you  against him to support you though and that alone made your cunt clench around nothing inside your panties.

“yeah, that’s mean of me... want me to stop baby?”, the older whispered against your lips staring down at you intensely, lust completely blurring his eyes as he kept his ministration on your bundle of nerves; that friction, unfortunately, wasn’t nearly enough for you.

pressing your lips together your eyes looked into his even more turned on than you already were, it was embarrassing because you two were inside a classroom with both doors open wide for everyone to see and you felt so... weird about it.

“don’t– don’t stop... please...”, you cried out with begging eyes while placing your hand above his to press it more against your core, desperate for a release right now and that made him shudder in anticipation.

“then... what do you want me to do?”, he asked swallowing hard while staring at your face trembling with pleasure, mesmerized by it.

“touch me...”, you breathed leading his hand with yours under the hem of your pleated skirt, hearing him hiss between gritted teethes as his fingers got drenched by how wet you were and that made you smirk proudly, especially since his hard dick was poking now against your ass.

“open your legs more for me.”, touya spoke lowly, his deep and husky voice reverberating through your whole body getting your legs to shake weakly, the older smiled down at you lovingly as his hand went to hook on your inner thigh inviting you to spread them more out you complied with no complaint. “good girl.”, he cooed kissing you on the temple and staying still with his lips pressed there while going to palm your clothed pussy with three fingers, pressing his middle one against your slit and starting to rub between your folds slowly meanwhile the heel of his hand stroked your clit creating the perfect friction.

“ngh... m-more...”, you demanded softly gasping toward the end as he began to move his fingers and hand in circle motions, touya’s face leaning down towards the crook of your neck inhaling your scent before kissing the other and start sucking on that spot harshly as the pace of his fingers.

you started panting and even letting out choked out moans, but as the friction of his palm against your clit sent a spark all over your body forming a knot in your lower abdomen, you let out a moan so loud it echoed inside the classroom for few seconds before subsiding.

realizing what you just did, you went to bite down on your lower lip right away before covering your mouth with an hand, beet red from cheeks to ears with embarrassment and fear of being heard by someone outside.

touya giggled amused against your neck letting out a satisfied heavy sigh while lifting his free hand to move yours away from your mouth, before he sneaked it inside your shirt from your collar and even went past your bra starting to massage your breast slowly, giving it a little squeeze that made you let out another moan.

“it’s way too late to regret it, babydoll.”, he reasoned with you giving your slit a long drag that made a pitiful sob come out of your mouth as pleasure started to make you burn up, tears building up in your eyes for a different reason now that made you so dizzy. “i don’t think i’ll be able to stop even if you ask me to.”, the older whispered against your cheek groaning as he felt your ass brush ever so slightly against the erection inside his skinny jeans, he wanted you so desperately.

“i don’t want you to stop...”, you managed to say biting down on your lip, while letting out restrained moans, needy eyes looking down at his hand under your skirt.

he froze for a moment expecting you, the responsible one out of the twos, to try stop him with all your might saying that you can’t do something like this in public, but damn... would you look at that? not only you weren’t minding it, by the way your pussy was throbbing against his fingers touya could tell that you actually liked all this.

never judge a book from its cover, huh?, he thought with a wolfish grin forming on his lips as he want to pinch your nipples, another moan erupting from you as your back arched away from his chest.

“i won’t, gotta make up for the whole week i didn’t got to touch my baby.”, and as of cue his fingers started working your cunt the way only touya knew you liked it; god it felt amazing, the moans kept coming out of your mouth and you couldn’t stop them even in the remote case you would’ve wanted to.

“ah–! god–! touya–! i’m close–!”

“go ahead y/n, cum all over my fingers.”, he encouraged you sweetly to rub circles over your clit more frantically getting sobs, gasps and moans of pleasure out of you that made his ego raise over the roof enhanced even more by how you were grinding on him desperately, chasing your climax.

he wasn’t even touching you directly but still had you turn into putty in his hands like it was nothing. really, no one would get you down so bad for him to this point like touya does and both of you knew that very well.

“mhn! ah–! ngh–!”, and with another slow movement of his wrist, the knot in your lower abdomen unleashed making you rest your back against his chest, hand resting on his arm, trembling as you came with a breathless moan, soaking your panties and his fingers completely.

“so fucking cute...”, he coated a little his fingers with your juices, dripping at the sides of your clothed cunt, before moving back letting you bend forward as you tried to catch your breath keeping yourself up with both hands resting on the desk in front of you, bringing index and middle fingers to his mouth licking and sucking them languidly. “and delicious, like always.”, commented the older gazing at your back with a devilish smirk, full on desire inside his clear orbs as he saw your arms trembling, struggling to keep you up after the intensity of what just happened.

“so noisy... you literally just ruined my panties...”, you complained weakly looking at him from above your shoulder, eyes that were gleaming with as much desire as he had for you, he could tell only by your gaze that you wanted more than what you were letting off.

“i think that should be the last of your concerns, babydoll.”, he bit back while looking at you with a lifted eyebrow and cocky grin on his lips, grunting amused at your confused stare he crouched down behind you grabbing your butt cheeks giggling at the yelp that came out from your mouth, gazing then at his work of art between your legs. at the sight of your drooling pussy covered by black laced panties he groaned feeling his dick throb inside his pants.

“wha–? wait–! someone might see us!”, you piped in a whisper blushing at feeling his intense contemplating gaze on your cunt; god only his stare was enough to rile you up, it was insane.

“that didn’t seem to bother you earlier.”, he recalled with a snort as the left corner of his mouth curled up arrogantly, you glared at him irritated by that constant attitude of his. “besides, at this hour there’s barely anyone around here, so don’t worry and just focus on me.”, touya continued with half-lidded lusty eyes as he moved up your skirt while sticking out his tongue and leaning in between your legs.

you wanted to say something back, but completely forgot what the moment his tongue lapped from your inner thigh up to the side of your pussy agonizingly slow pace, a shaky moan coming out from your mouth as your arms gave up on you making you lean your upper body wholly on the table as he kept calmly licking all the juices covering your inner thighs sucking on the skin in some spots loudly.

“t-touya...”, you slurred resting your head on the surface of the desk and staring in front of you without really seeing, feeling your pussy start throbbing again because of the arising pleasure.

“uhm?”, the older mumbled still glued to your right inner thigh where he just left a purple mark, licking his lips satisfied, still unfazed by the fact that someone could walk in on you.

“you’re so mean...”, you cried out lifting your head slightly to peek at his face with teary eyes as one of your arms reached out to rest an hand on his, one of the most adorable pout on your lips that made his brain melt. “stop teasing me already...”

something inside his head snapped and his eyes darkened right afterwards as he stood, never breaking eye contact with you as he unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned his pants and pulling down the zipper to free from any more restrictions his hardened shaft whose tip was reddened leaking pre-cum.

“if you’re enticing me so much, it means you’re ready for what comes next right?”, he questioned with raspy deep voice grabbing your hips, going then to hook two fingers to your panties and move them aside lifting an eyebrow as he smirked down at you wolfishly.

“just hurry up and fuck me...”, was your simple answer as you crossed your arms on the desk resting your head on them, lustful gaze looking at him enamoured by his whole being making touya’s dick even more hard than before if it was possible.

he let out a breathless laugh trying to not lose his mind right on the spot, the boy took a condom from the back pocket of his jeans and teared the dark purple envelope open with his teethes before rolling it long his length under your needy and waiting stare:

“as you wish, princess.”

touya pressed both thumbs at either sides of your fold stretching open your pussy before taking his dick and aligning the tip with your entrance; with a groan from the white haired senior, the first half of his cock slid with no problems inside of you, a choked moan leaving your gaping mouth as you rested your forehead on the wood of the table, pants erupting from you as you held onto the border of the desk tightly until your knuckles turned white.

“fuck... in only one week you got this tight, that won’t do y/n...”, he giggled deeply as his eyes watched your juices coat his whole length to his pelvis, making him shudder excited.

“aahh...”, you cried out feeling his dick rub against your walls slowly as he pulled out.

he leaned toward you gripping the border of the table with an hand as he moved closer to the side of your face, shit-eating grin curling up his lips devilishly while pulling down the sleeve of your shirt.

“i’ll put a remedy to that... ngrh!”, touya cooed against your ear as he snapped his hips forward, thrusting his dick into you sharply and deep this time making yet again another loud moan come out of your mouth, the sound of his pelvis smacking against your ass echoing inside the classroom, driving you crazy.

“mm! the sound... it’s so loud... ah!”, you commented rising your head and turning back to stare at him dazed, completely out of it from the pleasure as he kept drilling his cock inside your cunt.

“what? you don’t like it from behind?”, he inquired while the smirk on his lips only kept getting wider, azure eyes fixed on how your face kept twisting every second from the pleasure he was giving you.

as he kept pounding into your pussy and rubbing a spongy spot inside of you that kept sending shivers up your spine, you leaned the side of your forehead onto the desk looking at touya with honey dripping eyes that made him satisfied beyond anyone’s imagination.

“no... i like it... nnh!”, you answered biting down on your lip as he gave a sharp thrust, the desk under you trembling with the motion, his breath fanning your ear in pants making your heart thump faster than it already was.

“‘s that so? am i hitting your sweet spot?”, he whispered pressing his lips against your shoulder and staring to suck on it harshly, hips increasing the pace of his thrusts as he kept groaning against your skin.

“yeah... it feels so good...”, you kept answering sincerely between moans and whimpers, with only riled up touya more; your honesty always managed to make him lose his mind over you, it was like this since the first day he meet you.

“then i’ll make you feel even better...”, the senior claimed before tightening the grip on your hip and the border of the table, he then started to pound into you faster and stronger making the whole desk rattle because of the power of his thrusts.

“ahh! ah! mhn! so good! touya!”, you moaned out without a care in the world, as if you two weren’t still in school, that was how amazing it felt to have him finally fill you up after a week apart.

“fuck–! you’re squeezing me so damn hard! shit–! y/n–!”, he groaned back resting his forehead on your shoulder starting to pant hard against your hot skin, eyes closed in pure bliss as your walls fluttered around his shaft.

“ah! there–! i’m cummingh!”, was your last cry out as the boy kept hitting the spot that makes you see the stars over and over, never missing it once, making you cum all over his dick while moaning his name whole heartedly.

in response he thrusts as deep as possible inside of you, wishing there wasn’t the veil of gum separating you two, stilling himself after a while with the tip of his dick kissing your cervix before his seed spilled inside the condom as a throaty groan left his mouth.

he looked up at you genuinely smiling at your dazed expression with droll rolling down from the corner of your mouth to your chin as you panted heavily, your legs trembling from how much strained they were and not only because you were standing until now, he really went all out letting off the need that had build up in those days.

“was it that good? your face has melted completely...”, he questioned straightening up and moving your hair away from your face as he caressed tenderly your cheek with his thumb, your eyes finally moving to look at him still hazy from all the pleasure.

“that’s ‘cause you did that to me...”, at your answer his dick twitched slowly hardening once again, as if you two didn’t just nearly broke down the desk from your early session from few seconds ago.

“well, i can keep going you know?”, touya spoke licking his lips as he stared down at you, eyes sparkling with a new found motivation. “turn this way.”, he ordered softly grabbing your leg and moving it to the other side, turning you on your back, an hum coming from you as his dick rubbed in circle your walls.

“mmhf...”

an evil smirk formed on his lips as he looked down at you before suddenly pulling out of your pussy:

“oops! it popped out! sorry babydoll, i need to put it back in.”

“touya, you jerk! that was on purpose!”, you whined glaring up at him mad while slapping the older across his chest, lifting yourself from the desk.

“i’ve no idea of what you’re talking about darling, it was a good thing it happened anyways no?”, that little shit lied with a cocky smirk on his face as he massaged the spot you hit, faking being hurt while actually enjoying the whole situation. “or do you want the condom to break and get knocked up?”

“wha–?!”, you blushed at his words.

“not like i would mind, since it’s you.”, he then took off the condom tying it up and leaving it on the desk to throw away later, because for now he had other plans.

touya plopped himself on the wooden bench with legs spread shamelessly, he then extended his arm towards you holding out his hand with a calm smile on his lips and an overall chill vibe.

“come here.”, yet it was so naturally commanding at the same time, making you never think twice about doing anything he says.

taking his hand enchanted, as if he put you under a spell, the older made you sit on his lap making a gasp leave your mouth as his dick brushed against your pussy slightly, stimulating you more than you already were from the previous session.

“here, put it on for me pretty girl, my hands are busy.”, he told you as he handed you another condom pulled out from the pocket of his leather jacket, never looking away from your face that he kept staring at with an excited smirk, making your cheeks flush because of it.

when you were about to talk back at him, since his hands were doing nothing, a yelp left your lips as his hot hands sneaked under your shirt lifting it up as he roamed them slowly all over your abdomen to your chest, pulling down the cups of your bra as worry took over your features.

“no one is going to see you, nobody came over despite the loud moans remember?”, touya reassured you in an hypnotic whisper as he put the condom between your hands and guided them slowly long his shaft, a gritted teethes groan coming right from the back of his throat.

“i’m gonna kick your ass so bad if anyone sees us, really...”, you threatened planting your knees on the wood bench and lifting yourself from the older’s lap to align your entrance with his dick, face so close to his that your breathes mingled fanning each others cheeks while your eyes were fixed into one another’s intensely.

“that’s it, if you’ll still be able to stand.”, and gripping your waist, with a sharp movement of his hips upwards, touya thrust his whole length inside your cunt, a devilish smirk curling his lips as azure eyes stared at you burning with desire.

you let out a choked moan while falling against his chest stunned by the sudden movement, hands holding onto his shoulders and head resting on it as an absurd amount of pleasure spread inside of you from how deep the tip of his dick was hitting inside of you.

“so deep... ahh...”, you moaned looking down where your pelvis was connected with his, head spinning.

“how is it princess?”, he asked looking at you fondly as an hand kept caressing your hip tenderly, knowing very well what you were thinking but he was an insufferable little shit who loved to tease you just like that, so of course he was going to ask.

“it’s so good... ah!”, you moaned at the end as he rolled his hips in slow circles erupting a whimper out of your lips, who now where pressed against his neck giving touya chills.

“thought you were afraid of being heard, y/n... ngh!”, he groaned surrounding you with his arms to hold your body closer to him, hips bucking up as he kept thrusting into your pussy relentlessly.

“well... nobody has come until now...”, you replied avoiding his gaze timidly, knowing that he was going to tease you for switching your opinion just like that; he was so annoying my god.

“puah! you’re such a little minx.”, the older giggled amused before letting out a choked groan when feeling your hot lips pressed against his skin as you started suck hard onto that spot. “shit... you nearly made me come just now ugh–!”, he breathed out feeling your lips curl up into a sly smile that made him shudder. god, he loved you so fucking much.

“do you think saena-senpai will notice it?”, you questioned instead gripping hard onto his shoulder as you started to bounce on the boy’s dick, moaning onto his neck while sucking hard until a red mark didn’t start to form on his porcelain white skin.

“y-yeah... but princess, don’t tell me you’re sill thinking about that... i already told her to scram off, forget about it...”, touya spoke panting as he matched his thrusts with your movements, teethes clenching hard as your walls tightened around him sending a shiver down his spine.

“no. i can... ngh... get... pretty possessive too you know... ahn!”, you chimed back moving to be face to face with him and doing your best glaring at the white haired boy, but no matter how much convincing you tried to look your expression melted in few seconds as he kept pounding into you.

“so fucking cute for me...”, he commented with a proud yet cocky smirk as he leaned in and shoved his tongue inside your gaping mouth, tongue circling yours before stroking it against the surface of yours, smiling into the kiss when he felt your arms surround his neck.

“mmhn...”, you hummed against his lips arching your back a little, whimpering as the tip of his cock hit your cervix once again.

“fuck– agh! ngh... keep tightening around me like that baby and i won’t last that long...”, touya grunted while parting from the kiss and resting his forehead on the crook of your neck, that scent of yours invading his sense making it even harder for him to not come on the spot.

“ahh i can’t help it... it feels amazing where you’re hitting...”, ah that honesty of yours seriously, truly an hazard for him.

always holding you closer, he rested his hands on your ass cheeks starting to pound more sharply inside of you so to hit more powerfully that spot each time, your moans grow only louder at that.

“here?”, he asked in a groan while moving to look at your face, completely enamoured with the sight in front of him.

“ah! yes! t-there! there! my god, touya–! ahh!”, you cried out throwing your head back while bouncing faster on his shaft, the way it kept on hitting that soft gummy spot inside you it made you see stars, it was sublime how good he was doing you.

“that’s it baby–! keep screaming my name and i’ll give you more ugh!”, he growled between gritted teethes gluing his lips to your collarbone and sucking hard on that spot; you’ve actually lost count of how many hickeys he has given your only today, you could swear that there was one on your inner thigh and even close to your cunt.

“touya! more... please nnh...”, you whined as your pussy clenched on his dick harder, his thrusts stuttering for a brief second before their pace grew faster and stronger into you, your mind starting to go blank as you were close to your climax.

“so damn– needy...”, he was so happy and delighted by that, a satisfied smile on his lips while he stared at your fucked out expression. a masterpiece, seriously.

“only... for you...”, you replied between pants without even realizing, touya’s cock twitching inside of you making an hummed moan come out from your lips that were pressed in a thin line.

he didn’t expect that answer, which is exactly why his dick twitched so hard it sent a spark right to his pelvis.

fuck this feels fantastic..., and he has never really thought it about sex, not until you came around and conquered him like it was nothing.

his hands slid up to grip at your waist strongly and held you on place as hips moved upwards, slapping against yours hard as he kept grunting at feeling your walls start quivering around his cock.

“i told you to stop entice me so much–!”, touya spoke pressing your body onto his while bucking his hips faster and faster until his name didn’t start to come out slurred, too much pleasure for your brain to keep up without melting totally.

“ahn! that’s–! i’m coming–!”, you cried out holding onto him tighter, your cunt clenching around his dick hard.

“fuck–! shit, shit, shit–! me too baby!”, the boy growled as he thrust hard one last time before he stopped deep into you, the tip kissing your cervix, before finally coming all over the inside of that damned condom while you squirted all over his length moaning his name against his ear.

god he wanted to fuck you without that piece of gum so bad and fill your pussy to the brim with his seed. the only thought made his hips push further inside of you with a deep husky groan, making a whine leave your lips because of the overstimulation.

“‘s too much...”, you cried out staring at him dazed with tears of pleasure clouding your beautiful eyes.

“sorry... it just felt too good...”, he explained giggling weakly while resting his cheek on your chest, listening in silence to your erratic heartbeats and loving that sound so much. “i love you so bad...”, touya said out of nowhere with a peaceful expression on his face.

“i love you too...”, was your reply while looking down at him with a tender smile as you caressed his hair gently, a comfortable and wholesome silence surrounding you two. “you still owe me a new pair of panties.”

“we were having a moment there!”, the older whined upset, only for you to laugh at him wholeheartedly.

 

[THE NEXT DAY]

 

“here you go y/n, thank you for lending them to me...”, shinsou spoke while handing you your notes, eyes hesitating to look at you or the white haired senior whom you were talking with at the door of your classroom.

“you’re welcome...”, was your reply as you batted your eyelashes a few times, confused by that unusual behaviour from him.

he bowed to you and touya before pacing away towards his sit as fast as possible.

you stared at your classmate with eyebrows crossed, eyes furrowed and mouth moved into a grimace, not understanding what was happening.

“what’s gotten into him suddenly?”, you questioned out loud, arms crossing over your chest while tilting your head to the side innocently.

touya looked unbothered at you with lips pursed before he stared at shinsou, who right now was trying hard to not look at you two, and smirked arrogantly with a lifted eyebrow:

“maybe the show was too much for him.”

“huh?”, you questioned turning to the older exasperated by his random wordplays.

“nothing you need to worry about.”

 tag list: @dynamars, @dabislittlemouse, @cl-0-vr.

2023 © kelin-is-writing — do not repost or translate my work. likes, reblogs, and comments are welcome!

[flowerandblood]

Ophelia

[modern! photographer • Aemond x female]

[warnings: mention of sex, domination, sexual tension, fluff]

[description: Aemond is a photographer dealing with works referring to the painting of the old masters. His sister poses in class for a girl who catches his attention. He decides that she would be a perfect model for one of his photos. Lots of sexual tension and slowly built fascination.]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

This is Part 3 of story: Girl with a Pearl Earring

_____

Aemond and she didn't talk about what happened at the last photo shoot. She couldn't stop thinking about what his mouth and tongue had done to her. How unearthly and sublime the experience was. How hard she came on his face.

She wondered if he did this with all his models. Did he ask her to pose for him just because he was physically attracted to her. She once asked Helaena if he ever had another model to pose for so many photos. His sister thought for a moment.

"I don't recall such a situation. Female models always frustrated my brother very quickly. He often complained that they couldn't focus on their task. He praises you very much in this regard." She added finally. She looked at her surprised.

"Really?" She asked, surprised and intrigued by what he might be telling his family about her. Helena looked at her with a smile.

"Yes. He says that you have amazing facial expressions and gaze. That you are able to show very complex, elusive feelings and emotions. He said that his professor is delighted with the photos you have taken recently. Especially the one where there is no mirror." She said contentedly.

"He said you have an inscrutable, thoughtful, jittery expression on your face that fits the whole composition wonderfully."

She swallowed hard, feeling her face turn red at the thought that his professor appreciated the most picture he took of her at the end of photo shoot.

She shuddered to think that perhaps he was doing it on purpose, deliberately, to get the shot he desired. To get the expression he wanted out of her. She pursed her lips, ashamed to think that she had succumbed to his advances so easily.

Although until now she had always looked for him in the hallway of the university to greet him, she decided to stop doing it. She decided that if all this meant nothing to him then she shouldn't have bothered to get his attention.

Aemond wrote to her a few days later informing her that the next painting they would be copying would be Ophelia painted by John Everett Millais. The studio was not suitable for water photography, so Aemond decided that she would be lying on the floor full of flowers. He booked the studio for next Thursday.

Although she usually wrote him very long messages, sharing her ideas and being inventive, this time she only wrote back that she understood and of course she would come at the appointed time.

She slowly finished painting Helaena's portrait. Her bright, beautiful face and almost white hair stood out against the golden background, her blue eyes and gown blended wonderfully with the yellows around. She was very pleased with the effect she got. Helaena looked light, gentle and happy in her portrait, her face framed by an almost imperceptible smile.

She heard someone enter the room, but no one paid any attention to that - students came and went as they pleased. She jumped in place as Aemond suddenly appeared in front of her, looking at her expectantly. She looked at him, swallowing softly, but didn't speak first. Aemond pursed his lips and cleared his throat.

"Can you give me a moment alone?" He asked unusually softly compared to how he usually spoke.

"Yes, of course". She said surprised, getting up from her seat and following him. They were led away by the curious looks of her classmates.

They went out into the corridor and stand in front of each other. She looked at him expectantly, smiling slightly. She felt her heart pounding hard and swallowed softly as the memory of him kneeling between her legs flashed through her mind. Aemond spoke after a moment.

"My professor is delighted with the photos we have taken so far. He thinks we are going in the right direction. I agree with his opinion." He spoke calmly and matter-of-factly.

She looked at him surprised. She wondered if he was implying something with that statement, wanting to say that what was going on between them should continue for the sake of his art. She swallowed hard at the thought, dropping her gaze.

"Well, I'm glad that you and he are satisfied." She said calmly, trying to smile. Aemond looked at her intensely, concerned. He was clearly struggling to ask her something. He gave up at the last moment, looking away.

"See you on Thursday."

***

Already two days before the photo shoot, she felt that she had caught a cold. At first she had only a sore throat and a runny nose. She took vitamin C tablets and aspirin, but despite her best efforts on the day they were to meet she woke up with a fever. She looked at herself in the mirror as she changed clothes.

She was pale, there were light circles under her eyes. She thought she really did look like she was dying. That she really looked and felt like Ophelia, inside and out. She decided not to cancel the session.

She came to the set more stressed than ever before. As she entered the room, she and Aemond looked at each other quickly. They nodded to each other without saying a word. Aemond was spreading wildflowers on the floor for her to lie down on. They looked like a large, colorful eiderdown.

She went straight to the room where she could change. She did not consult it with him, but she sewed a dress for the photo. It was white and slightly translucent, a delicate, flowing material. It had puffy, long sleeves, ending at the wrists with embroidered cuffs. The boat neckline of the dress was also decorated with white embroidery.

She decided to take off her bra, knowing it would look bad in the photo. She shuddered at the thought, both terrified and excited that her nipples would be barely visible.

Her head was spinning from the fever.

She deliberately didn't take any pills, wanting to look as pale as possible. She decided that if he wanted her to sacrifice herself for his art, she would.

She left the room after a while, closing the door quietly behind her and headed towards the flowers and plants spread on the ground. Aemond looked at her and raised his eyebrows in surprise, only now noticing how pale she was. His gaze traveled down to her cleavage and froze for a moment. He cleared his throat, looking at his feet, and went straight to the point.

"Lie where the flowers are more piled up. I want them to be visible around your head in the frame as well." He said calmly. She thought he was trying to sound less cold than usual.

She lay down obediently, placing her face where he had directed her. She spread her arms out to the sides as in the painting, placing her fingers as if she was holding a needle. She tilted her head back slightly, feeling waves of heat flowing down her body.

Aemond crouched beside her, camera in one hand. With his free hand, he gently combed her hair as he saw fit. She saw that involuntarily his gaze escaped towards her slightly translucent breasts. He brought the camera up to his face and looked at her through the lens.

"Open your mouth." He spoke softly and she obeyed. She heard the sound of the camera shutter.

"Think of something depressing. Something that keeps you awake at night." He said finally, lowering the camera, looking at her expectantly. "Your gaze must express the emptiness of suffering."

She swallowed softly at his words. She thought about him. That once he took all the photos of her he wanted she would never see him again. That he would find another model and muse. That she was just a moment in his life that he immortalized on his films and nothing more.

She felt her lips quiver at the thought, her body shivering. Her eyes turned painfully red. She inhaled softly, trembling, a tear rolling down her cheek. She stared straight ahead, somewhere to the side, her eyes completely absent. She heard him get up on his knees and take a series of pictures of her.

"God, it's beautiful." He whispered.

After a while he lowered the camera down. She saw out of the corner of her eye that he was staring at her silently. Her chest heaved steadily. She couldn't stop the tears streaming down her face.

It was getting harder and harder to breathe due to the high temperature of her body. She flinched as she felt his cool hand touch her cheek, wiping away her tears. She heard him suddenly draw in a breath.

"Why are you so warm?" He asked worriedly, quickly moving his hand from her cheek to her forehead.

"Do you have a fever?" He asked, but she didn't answer him, looking away. Aemond pursed his lips.

"Why didn't you call me? I would reschedule our session, you should be in bed. Have you taken any meds?" He finally asked, his tone of voice impatient. She swallowed softly, feeling like she was all on fire.

"I thought it would benefit your photography." She spoke calmly, her voice weak and quiet. She felt him staring at her in disbelief. He lowered the camera, running his hand over his mouth and chin. He didn't know what to say.

"I…fuck. Do you think a good picture is all that matters to me?" He finally asked with a note of regret in his voice that surprised her. She turned her head to him with difficulty, the traces of her tears still adorning her cheeks. Her lips trembled.

"Yes."

Aemond stared at her silently. His hand touched her cheeks and forehead again and again, as if he was constantly checking to see if she was getting worse. There was a tenderness and delicacy in that touch that didn't suit him. She had a feeling that if he didn't stop she would start crying again. For some reason she felt that the state she was now experiencing was literally dying before his eyes.

She thought he saw it, because his lips parted slightly, his gaze softer than ever. A pleasant shiver went through her as he stroked her head gently as if she were a small child.

"I wake up thinking about you. I fall asleep thinking about you." He whispered, his fingers running through her hair. She felt her breath go out. She thought she was hallucinating from the fever. She looked at him uncomprehendingly.

"You are my inexhaustible source of inspiration. I adore you, my muse." He whispered softly as if saying the words of some prayer.

She stared at him with wide eyes. She felt like she was about to collapse in this sea of flowers and just pass out. Her body couldn't handle what he was doing to her. Her lips parted slightly, trembling all over. She closed her eyes, burying her cheek in his hand. She heard him suck in a sharp breath and swallow softly.

"Do you have any pills with you?" He asked quietly. She nodded.

"Are they in your backpack?"

She nodded again without opening her eyes. Aemond took his hand from her and stood up. She heard his footsteps and the sound of the door opening.

She did not have the strength to open her eyes. She felt that she had fallen asleep for a moment when he was not there, completely weak. He woke her up by gently touching her cheek. He crouched in front of her, holding paracetamol tablets and a bottle of water.

"Take two at once and drink it." He said calmly, handing them to her, helping her get up slightly so she could drink some water without choking at the same time. She swallowed the pills and immediately fell back down, not having the strength to sit. As soon as she opened her eyes, it seemed to her that everything was spinning. After a moment she heard his quiet voice.

"Do you want to take a nap here?"

She nodded slightly. The smell of wildflowers, leaves and grass filled her lungs. Her body was already refusing to obey, demanding rest and regeneration from the morning, unable to accept any more stimuli. She literally fell asleep before his eyes.

She felt something warm envelop her, some large, pleasant material. She heard the rustle of fabric and felt arms pulling her close, a hand in her hair. His scent filled her lungs. Her fingers tightened on the material of his turtleneck.

"Aemond." She whispered.

_____

If you want to be tagged, leave a comment below. Bold are the ones I couldn't tag. ♥

@zenka69 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @tinykryptonitewerewolf @malfoytargaryen @toodlesxcuddles @fan-goddess @bellaisasleep @skikikikiikhhjuuh @douadeer

[philtstone]

jaime/claire -- holding the other's chin up

after literally one million years i finally finished this. this is not technically an om-shanti-om au but it's not not one, either

On Wednesday morning, Jamie and his Ghost had a row.

It is now Thursday afternoon, and Jamie is sitting in a hospital room, covered in muck from head to toe and wondering if this isn’t God’s great punishment for daring to leave his bloody flat.

He’s not sure when he started referring to the Ghost as his. Traditionally, if you’re the sort to believe in such things, ownership of ghosts runs through 1) ancestry or 2) a familial home. His aunt Jocasta, for example, had an ornery old Frenchman in the cellar of the MacKenzies’ old brick tower who had no relation to any of them, but wouldn’t let the damned house go generation after generation; Jocasta claims the bastard had been the mysterious lad who seduced that one grand-cousin of theirs into batting for the other side, which led to his divorcing his wife and moving to Cuba – and who is Jamie to have his doubts, really, when he’s got a ghost of his own.

The argument could be made that Jamie’s ghost has taken up residence in his flat — hence his turn of phrase. But he’s only renting after all, and more than that, he’s got a weird feeling she never snooped through the previous tenants’ bookshelves or sock drawers or anything either.

Now she won’t speak to him. It is four months to the day Jamie moved in, and, not two hours later, made her acquaintance while having an angry cry on the toilet. It’d been a rough go of it – between the accident and Jenny and Da —

Jamie had, at that time, resigned himself to the inevitability of his flunking out of graduate work before he’d ever started it. He’d barely been making it to his physio appointments when the Ghost appeared, let alone his classes; either he wouldn’t answer Jenny’s calls or she wouldn’t answer his; and in the twenty four hours he’d been in his new flat, the upstairs neighbours had already had audibly angry sex twice, which was two times too many for Jamie’s fragile mental state (not to mention his resounding lack of girlfriend). It was amidst all of this that The Ghost materialized.

The Ghost glows like a firefly, speaks like she stepped out of a World War Two-era black and white film and can’t seem to stay in one spot long enough for Jamie to see her face properly. She hasn't got a name, has given no indication of a family, and won’t tell him how and where she died. She’s miserable when she isn’t cracking laughs out of him by snooping through his old copy of Descartes and wondering aloud whether he actually reads the books he owns. She herself has no patience for reading (though she accidentally knocked a lamp over exclaiming at his battered copy of Lord of the Rings), endless patience for his sporadic monologues on morphological theory, and a complete fascination with his mobile phone. Also, the soapy mess that is Grey’s Anatomy, which was playing on the telly once. 

“How old were ye,” Jamie asked one day, blowing on his instant noodles, which the Ghost had been eyeing with great skepticism for the latter half of the last fifteen minutes. He supposed she had every right to judge, if she were once a twentieth century housewife, but very little about her suggested an abundance of housewifely skills.

“What are your thoughts on knitting?” asked the Ghost, apropos of nothing.

“I asked first.”

“Did you.”

“When ye went, I mean. How old were ye?”

For a moment it was hard to look directly at her, because she was suddenly far less clearly formed than before. Then, quick as a wink, she was young and mostly corporeal again.

“Terribly,” said the Ghost. “I had white hair and everything.”

He mulled this over. “I can imagine it must’ve been quite somethin’ tae behold,” he says. “Sorcha.”

She smiled, all brilliance, all tenderness – very different from the sadness that lingered around her otherwise. Slowly she floated over, under his silent observation, and with hands that were not fully there and made of the stuff of nightlights cupped his face, lifting his chin. There in his sad little kitchen she glowed. Jamie kept blinking behind his glasses, like maybe if he did it hard enough, he could finally see her. Did she have a husband she missed? Jamie thought. Was it paining her something awful to be stuck in his sad little studio, with the two plants left living and the little grey cat no one in the building would properly claim ownership of? 

Then, “Knitting,” she said. So Jamie confessed what little his Mam had taught him as a kid.

She knows all the scientific names of the bones and ligaments and tissues in his body that were damaged in the accident, and – perhaps due to her ghostly nature – can preternaturally guess when each thing is paining him. It upsets her to realize that her hands are not solid enough to sooth the hurts, and gladdens her when he assures her companionship is taking his mind off things a bit, before – incomprehensibly – she looks miserable again. She swears like a sailor and would probably fart in her sleep, were she not an incorporeal being with a transmutable form not in need of traditional rest.

She’s the most beautiful creature he’s ever seen. Nevermind he can’t really see her; Jamie just knows. Her hair is one large amorphous cloud of curls and she stares at him with such unspeakable sadness and makes a little humming noise when she’s at rest, like the singing of a hundred little stones. And there is a soft sort of buttery halo around her, which was enough to stun him into silence at their first meeting and has become oddly soothing now, enough that he gives her that silly little nickname, and he’s lonely, something feckin’ awful. 

It’s not like he’s not self-aware. Problem is, now she might be gone forever, and it’s all his fault.

He keeps playing it over and over in his head. He might’ve been a little churlish, sure – he was tired from his early lecture, he’d kept his contacts in too long, the anniversary of Da’s passing was coming up on Friday and Jenny kept insisting that he ought to come for a visit …

That was it, wasn’t it? Jamie didn’t want to go. He didn’t want to go home, and the Ghost in all her sort of sad floaty care for him snapped in the way of a brittle little twig. She had an awful temper sometimes. He’d heard her yell at the kitchen wall once when she found she couldn’t float through it. 

“James Fraser,” she said in her posh little accent, “are you going to continue wallowing in this miserable fucking flat or are you going to get up off your arse and face the bloody world like a man?”

Jamie found this somewhat infuriating. He had left his flat, thanks very much – he went to class now, and he was making real progress in physio, and, well, sure, he’d turned down the lads the last few times they invited him out for a match, but maybe he’d go this time – there was no proof he wouldn’t! So it wasn’t feckin’ fair of her, to talk down to him so. Jamie refused to be called a coward in his own flat.

By a ghost, no less.

“It’s no’ like you ever leave either,” he’d snapped in response, the discomfort of being seen rankling under his skin and sharpening his tongue into something rude. 

“I’m dead,” said the Ghost.

“Aye,” muttered Jamie mutinously. “Well.”

“Don’t be an arse.”

“Ye’d be fair lonely wi’out me here tae keep ye company, would ye no’?”

“I’d – read your books,” she defended, unbelievably. “You – you just – don’t you want a happy and vibrant life?”

“What do you think?” he picked up his books, which were strewn over the living room couch, for something to do.

“Well, I don’t know! You keep hiding!”

“I’m no’ hiding!”

“Yes, you are!”

“Mary, Michael and – why do ye care so much, ye irritating apparition!”

“I care because I bloody well have to!” 

Had he not been so caught up in his own irritation, he would have noted the odd strand of desperation in her voice. 

“Fine,” said Jamie, waving about An Introduction To Language And Linguistics, Third Edition with finality. “Well. I’ve plenty of reasons to be a homebody, ken -- right ones, real ones. But if that’s the case, then yer whole existence is sad.”

“I beg your pardon,” said the Ghost. 

“Aye,” Jamie was really working up to something, he’d thought, “Ye clearly havenae anywhere else to be, hangin’ about this dump.”

“Where else would I bloody well go?”

“I dinna ken, do I?” He couldn’t see her properly – the details of her face were always a mystery, but now she kept glowing in and out of focus as a general ill emotion build within her in the far corner of the room, “as ye tell me nothing about yerself and spend half the day actin’ like a time traveller and the other half the day lookin’ at me like ye’re about tae cry! I don’t think I’m the one wallowing here, Sorcha, and at least my presence is wanted by the feckin’ landlord! No one asked you tae show up!”

Perhaps he had gone too far; something about the Ghost’s presence blanched, like he’d given her a true fright. Then, after an awful moment of strangulated silence … she snapped back.

It devolved pretty quickly from there. In between the mutual screaming, Jamie got the feeling that she would have thrown things, could she have gotten her incorporeal hands on them properly enough to harness physics.

At some point, he had run out of steam, stormed out, and slammed the door behind himself, intent on finally taking up the offer of rugby with his friends.

Too bad about the torrential downpour. Too bad Rupert tackles like a giant lout, and Jamie slid five feet on the grass before slamming down directly on his shoulder and popping it out of socket.

He sighs, miserably. The hospital room is cold, mostly because he remains so thoroughly damp; his hair is plastered to his forehead and his jeans cling to his legs. So much for going out and partaking in the wide human world like a man properly recovering from a year’s worth of back to back traumas. Hmph. Jamie sniffs and wipes at his glasses (smudged) with his free and un-dislocated arm. He supposes he is recovering, sort of. It’s been easy to miss, given how simple the Ghost has made everything feel, but he feels exceptionally more human now than he did mere months ago. Jamie of September would never have dislocated his shoulder, because he was too busy being depressed.

He squirms in place. He ought to go home and check on the Ghost. What if all the yelling caused her to simply vanish? What if she’s hiding from him, indefinitely? He doesn’t think Edinburgh local business bureau has any reliable sort of ghost hunting service listed on its website. When Angus stopped by to pick up Jamie’s laptop so he could at least get his readings done for class tomorrow via hospital room, he responded to Jamie’s possibly-deranged Ghost-related line of questioning with an honest, “I’ve looked everywhere, mate. Cannae see hide nor hair of any ghostly lassie. D’ye think she’s gone tae her sister’s, perhaps?”

Even if this were a helpful question, Jamie hasn’t any idea whether the Ghost has any siblings at all.

Shite. He groans. It’s bad enough the shock’s worn off, and his shoulder is starting to properly hurt now. He hangs his head and leans his forehead against his uninjured wrist, squeezing his eyes shut against the mess everything’s become. He’s still facing the ground with his eyes shut when the faint sound of heeled footsteps swells louder and turns the corner, entering the room with a neat swish of hospital bed paper and curtain.

“Mr. James Fraser, is it?” says a light, distinctly British female voice, evidently scanning over whatever chart they’ve got set up for him, “that’s a nasty glenohumeral dislocation you’ve got there. You wouldn’t have happened to be playing rugby in the rain like an idiot, would you?”

Jamie cracks his eyes open specifically to roll them. He doesn’t get very far: the doctor standing in front of him is a tall young woman, with a mass of thick, dark curly hair tied out of her face, wry laughing eyes and an upturned little mouth that makes it very clear they are both supposed to be in on whatever joke she’s trying to make. She has a slender neck, a very competent set to her brows, and could be described as somewhat twiggy in figure save for her wonderfully curved arse, which Jamie gets an unexpected view of as she leans over the chair in the corner to close the bed’s curtain properly.

Jamie unsticks his throat with a bit of effort. “Hm?” he says, very eloquently.

“I asked, are you feeling dizzy at all? Nauseous?”

“No, I feel fine. ‘Tis just my arm, Sassenach.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Between the dislocated shoulder and the woman in front of him it could really be anything that’s causing his complete discombobulation – enough to put his foot in it, it seems – but something about the tone and inflection of her sharp little question has Jamie’s head spinning more than the rugby tackle.

“Er – Doctor Sassenach, I mean. Or rather – jest Doctor, but I didnae mean it as an offense – it was just an observation. Granted, we’re in Edinburgh, so it wouldn’t – but I’m from – that is, my family, I grew up far North, so …” he trails off; she is now very industriously poking and prodding at his collar bone. Oh, right – he does remember her saying she was about to do that. “I meant no offense,” he concludes.

“No offense taken,” says the Doctor. She sounds like she’s on the verge of laughing, this time at him.

“Ye’ve got a very gentle touch,” Jamie says, like a right idiot.

“Thank you,” says the Doctor. “Now, I’m going to reset your arm – there’s nothing else for it, it’ll hurt like hell for a minute. But you’ll be alright Mr. Fraser.”

They go through the motions together; Jamie follows her instructions, marvels at how strong and precise she is with skinny arms and small hands, and only blacks out a little when his shoulder pops back into place.

“God,” he gasps, blinking. In front of him, the Doctor is looking over him with concern. 

“Everything alright? How are you feeling?”

“A little bit like someone’s punched my lights out, I willnae lie.” She laughs, but her hands remain on him, gentle first on his chest, then neck, pushing him upright.

“An expected feeling,” she says. “Hold still a moment, I’m going to properly check you for a concussion.”

And before Jamie can protest that he’s fine, she has taken his chin in both hands and gently tilted his face up towards her, so as to better shine the little flashlight into his eyes.

It’s as if a giant multi-metric tonne train has slammed into Jamie at twelve hundred kilometers an hour. The nice Sassenach doctor is glowing like a firefly and eyeing his ramen with skepticism and asking him about knitting and crying and yelling and touching him so gently because now her hands can actually touch him and he knows her, he swears he knows her deep deep deep in some inner place inside of him and quite possibly he is in love with her, and maybe has been, forever.

Jamie comes back to Earth. She is making an altogether undignified face as she moves his chin back and forth and examines his reaction time. Her tongue sticks out a little. Bits of frizz have popped out of her ponytail and are decorating her hairline like a halo.

“Hi,” Jamie says breathily, like a fool.

She stills, and looks over to meet his eye, and for a moment they stare at each other like that, nose to nose. 

“Hello,” she says. 

Then she pulls away and marks something on her notepad; the interaction is all but over. Off to her next patient, probably. “Alright. Well, no concussion, from what I can tell. I’ll ask you to self-monitor, though, and I’ll prescribe you some pain meds for the shoulder. I’d go home and get some rest if I were you,” she hesitates, and in a curious sort of way adds, “is everything alright, really?”

“Fine,” says Jamie. “Only, just now I felt like I’d seen a ghost.” He laughs, and it’s an overall strangled sound, which can and should be forgiven. “Ye ever felt anything like that, Sassenach?”

She is halfway to the door already, and he’s sure she will call him a nutter on the way out, even if in that wry way of hers. But she stops. Turns back. Smiles at him – not quite radiant, nor tender, but curious and familiar.

“You know … I think I do?”

“Aye?” 

“It’s Claire, by the way.”

He blinks. “Your ghost?”

“No,” and now she really is laughing at him. “My name. Dr. Claire Beauchamp. But if you must call me an outlander, James Fraser whose family lived in the North, then I suppose I am alright with that, too.”

She leaves Jamie grinning more widely than he has in months. He’s got the odd feeling that whenever he gets home, his flat will be empty. Strangely, this is not an upsetting premonition. He’s more concerned with somehow getting Dr. Claire Beauchamp’s phone number – and somehow, he’s pretty sure the Ghost would approve.

[yikes-em]

Nap Away

For @astrangersummer week 2: afternoon nap

steddie | 976 words | gen/no warnings | college/modern

Read also on ao3

Tuesdays and Wednesdays are Steve’s weekends. He’s a hairstylist, a junior one at that, and works Thursday through to Monday. He and Eddie have no overlapping days off, Eddie’s from the bar falling on Sunday and Mondays, but Steve has his Tuesdays and Wednesdays. He goes grocery shopping, gives the plants of his their weekly watering should their routine require, doctor and dentists appointments. This Wednesday so happens to be Steve’s rare empty day. He’s already run the dishwasher and laundry, both audibly going in the kitchen. The bathroom is clean, they’d already agreed on pizza for dinner so no need for prep. Everything was right in the world. One glance at the clock told Steve, nested into a pile of blankets and pillows on the couch with a book, that Eddie should be home from his noon class shortly. The sound of keys in the doorknob confirmed that fact not even five minutes later.

“Heey, Stevie,” Eddie hums, bag dropping to the ground by their door as he toes his shoes off.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Steve muses back, dogearing the page. He pushes his glasses to the top of his head. “How was class?”

Eddie holds a finger to his lips with closed eyes. Steve understands. “I’ve gotta be back on campus in a few hours.”

“How many?”

“Three.”

“Right, thank you,” Steve hums. He adjusts his body to make room on the couch and tucks his book under the pillow beside him. “Sorry I forgot. How can I help you?”

Eddie blushes, kicking his feet up a little as he steps further into the living room to the beat of the music Steve’s got playing through the TV. He speaks through a yawn-- “I dunno.”

“Sleepy?”

“Yeah.”

“Hungry?”

“Not really.”

“Need to do any work before class?”

“Surprisingly, no,” Eddie grins when his shins hit the couch. Steve reaches up for Eddie’s hips with both hands, holds him firmly, and presses a gentle kiss through his shirt just under Eddie’s belly button. “Whatcha reading?”

“Still trying to get through Watership Down.”

“Fuck yeah, baby, let me know if there’s anymore words you need help with?”

Steve nods. He moves his hands from Eddie’s sides up to grab his hands, tugging down at him. Eddie understands, sitting where Steve’s made space for him. Eddie yawns again and goes where he’s pulled until he’s flush against Steve’s body. The warmth on the couch grows as the shifting sun hits the front window just right and flashes rainbows through the lounge. It’s beautiful and safe and most importantly, theirs.

“How’s your day been, love?”

“Calm,” Steve hums lightly as he cards his fingers through Eddie’s hair. The dark green block of color taking up the left half of his bangs would be ready to be colored in the next few weeks, with his roots grown out a half inch already, but currently it was a tonedeaf and seasick teal. Sometimes Steve would find himself overcritical of his work, particularly on Eddie. Now, like it had been in the short months they’d been living together, his mind was quiet. Steve picked apart a few curls that clumped densely together.

“Good,” Eddie says, yawning yet again.

“When do you need to leave?”

Eddie takes a peek across the room at the same clock Steve had. “Class is at 5, I’ll be out at 6:15, I think. So leave around 4:30?”

“I’ll drop you off, we can leave quarter till. Go on and nap a bit, Eds.”

“You’re so chivalrous,” Eddie grins like a dope up at Steve. He nuzzles into Steve’s shirt, nose poking through the space between the buttons. Steve lets out a breathy giggle and pushes his face back. “I’m so lucky!”

“Yeah, you are.”

“You sure you’re comfortable?” Eddie asks, voice turning soft and genuine.

“Well, here, hang on.” Steve slides out from under Eddie with only a few grumbles, returning a minute later with a fresh glass of water and a small bowl of pre-cut strawberries with powdered sugar on top. Eddie whines again when he’s forced to hold himself up enough for Steve to return to his previous spot, but is quickly soothed by a few strawberries and a kiss on the head. “Alright, now we’re good. Nap away, my love.”

“I need to be up by 4 at least…” Eddie mumbles, all but a whisper. Steve nods as he wraps his arm around Eddie and pulls him close. He doesn’t wake Eddie until 4:15, a solid two hour nap in Steve’s opinion, with a kind nudge of his knee and kiss above Eddie’s ear after returning Watership Down to the coffee table. Eddie rouses slowly with a pathetic whine.

“Steeevieeeee,” He cries, wriggling around on Steve’s lap. “Sleeeeepyyyy…!”

“I know, baby,” Steve hums and shifts again so Eddie has no comfortable resting spot anymore. He sits up and rubs aggressively at his eyes. “Come on, tie your hair up and we can take a quick shower before I drop you off.”

“Hot?” Eddie peeks out from behind his knuckles.

“Yeah, Eds,” he laughs softly, already reaching for the hair tie around Eddie’s wrist. “Now, hop up, let’s go.”

Steve doesn’t even have time to dry his hair before they have to rush off, Eddie making it to class exactly on time. If they’d gotten a little carried away in the shower, who can blame them? But by the time Eddie returns home again there’s a hot meat lovers pizza on the coffee table, an episode of Jeopardy queued on TV, and Steve perched yet again in the middle of a blanket puddle on the couch. There’s no disagreements when Eddie further investigates and finds Steve in one of Eddie’s old band hoodies and just his boxers, limp hair sending thin clumps of waves over his forehead. Yeah, Eddie’s a lucky guy.

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: The price of faith

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)  

“As you can see here,” Dr. Sasha Rebick said as she held the x-ray up to the light, “the tumor has grown close to one of your lungs, and as it has grown it has pushed into the lung resulting in your labored breathing.”

Sitting across from the good doctor was her recent patient, Oma.  She had never treated a Parcoren before but she had read the research file about them. Humanoid in shape one could almost be forgiven for mistaking them as humans were it not for the series of bone spikes that protruded from the back of their heads down their neck.

Sasha had expected her Thursday for her schedule appointment but had been awoken early Tuesday morning when a local hospital had contacted her saying Oma had just been admitted to their ER and they needed her expertise to operate.

Twenty minutes later Sasha was in the ER operating on Oma to save her life and after four hours of grueling surgery her patient had gotten through the worst of it. Or so she had hoped until she saw the first x-rays.

Pointing to a mass on the x-rays Sasha continued. “Your shortness of breath, coughing blood, and feelings of drowning are all results of this tumor’s proximity to your lung, and I’m afraid the symptoms will only get worse the longer it remains.”

Oma’s spines twitched at this and they looked at the x-ray in disbelief. “But you save me now.” She spoke softly, her every word a ragged labor. Dr. Sasha shook her head at her patient’s optimism.

“It would be incorrect to believe that what we did tonight resolved the issue.” Sasha said regretfully. “The biochemical we used to restore you airways is a temporary solution.”

At this Oma’s expression only further darkened. “Can you remove the tumor?”

Sasha took a look at the x-rays once more and gathered her thought before answering. “The tumor has grown to such an extent that it is no longer possible to separate it from your lung.” She pointed to the mass itself and dragged her finger across the deadly vein like tendrils that spread out over the entire lung itself. “Even if we removed the largest mass of the tumor, any one of these offshoots could develop into a full grown tumor itself within a matter of months.”

She leaned back into her doctor’s chair, running her hand through her red hair as if to clear her thoughts of impending dread. “The fact that this hasn’t spread to the rest of your internal organs is nothing less than an act of god to be honest.”

Her patients head shot up at this and Sasha had realized her mistake. Though she knew little of the Parcoren as a species, she did know that they were heavily spiritual and by extension their faith seeped into nearly every aspect of their day to day lives. She had once her it joked that a Parcoren would not take a bite of breakfast without first consulting their holy book.

“So you are saying this is god’s will?”

Sasha looked at Oma and saw a mixture of emotions washing over her patients face. Fear, disbelief, disdain, anger, sorrow; one could hardly blame her with the idea Sasha had just put in her head about her current situation being part of their god’s will.

“Forgive me,” Sasha spoke up quickly, “I meant it more as a passing expression than a religious statement.”

This seemed to confuse Oma. “Your people use your god’s name…so recklessly?” To which Sasha shrugged as she opened a file cabinet underneath her desk and searched for a particular file.

“If you’d hear half the words shouted at a world cup finale you’d understand.” She replied drily as she found the file and pulled it out. She opened the folder on the desk and began spreading its contents out for Oma to see.

“We may not be able to remove the tumor itself from your lung, but we do have alternatives to combat this.”

She laid out a picture of particular importance right in front of Oma who looked down at it silently.

“Cybernetics has advanced by leaps and bounds within the last twelve years and it is now possible to give you a new biomechanical lung that will restore your health.”

Oma picked up the picture and examined it. It was a promotional page sent out by cybernetic implant companies showcasing their latest models. It detailed which species they could manufacture for as well as boasting that they could replicate any organ to the extent that one could not tell the difference between it and a biologically grown one.

“So you would…” Oma spoke up through strained breaths, “give me this cybernetic and I would be healthy again?”

She sounded like she couldn’t believe her fortune so Sasha leaned forward and rested her hand on Oma’s. “You’d be swimming across the crimson seas, dodging nerve sharks again in no time; give or take a month or two of rehabilitation to get used to the implant.”

Behind those darkened eyes of despair Sasha saw the spark of hope rekindled as a smile crept on to her face. Her eyes were barely holding back her tears of joy as she clutched the flyer tighter between her fingers.

“That would be wonderful!” she exclaimed loudly, before her glow shrunk somewhat and she followed up with, “But will there be enough room?”

This was something Sasha had not expected. “Room for what?” she asked.

“For another lung.” Oma said directly. “I already have two so if you were to give me a third lung I do not believe my body would have enough space for it.”

Sasha had to control her facial expressions as she pondered how someone from a species lightyears ahead of humanity could be so dense.

“Oma,” Sasha spoke up clearly and slowly, “we would need to remove the entire tumor lung from your body to ensure the operations success; you would not have three lungs.”

Her patient said nothing at this clarification. She withdrew her hand from the doctor’s gentle grasp and let the flyer fall to the desk as if it was burning hot.

“I’m sorry, but that is not an option for me.”

“I assure you,” Sasha began, “that the surgery is completely sa-“

Oma cut off the doctor by pushing her chair back loudly. Her behavior had gone from joyous relief to now acting like her mother had just been called a series of horrific words.

“It is against our faith that any portion of our body be willingly removed.” Oma stated as if quoting a book.

“Oma,” Sasha began calmly, “it is not a matter of debate between scripture and science.” She tapped the x-ray still hanging behind her showcasing the tumor. “If you do not have this lung removed you will die.”

“Then it is god’s will that my time will end.” Oma replied without hesitation.

This was not the first time Sasha had come across religious restrictions for such procedures. Yet it was still surprising all the same to hear someone be given a lifeline to continue their existence only to throw it back so casually.

“Tell me,” Sasha began, “did your god gift you with intelligence?”

This question took Oma off guard. “Intelligence?” she repeated, and Sasha nodded. “The ability to adapt, to learn, to improve yourself in the face of adversity,” Sasha clarified, “that is what I mean.”

Oma nodded. “It is written that our lord chose us as their favored creations and bestowed the gift of knowledge to our humble vessels.”

“So it is not against your faith to solve problems that are presented to you?” Sasha asked. Oma nodded again in agreement and so Sasha continued.

“Then by that logic this is no different. You have bene presented with a problem that you are capable of solving.”

Oma stood up suddenly, nearly knocking the chair over in the process. “It is not the same.” She loudly declared. “We are created in our lord’s image and to pervert it with foreign objects would be the most unforgivable offenses!”

“But you just said that your god gave you knowledge; do you not think they would be more offended that you did not use their gift to continue your existence?”

She ripped the x-ray off the wall and slapped it down on the desk. “Was it your god’s plan that you should die today? And if so why did you come here for treatment?”

“That is not the same!” Oma shouted again, though this time with less fervor. Sasha pressed on and continued to barrage her patient with questions.

“Why then is it okay for you to use medicine sometimes but not others? Why is it your faith allows good Parcoren’s to die when they could have been saved? What sort of spiteful god would deny his favored creations happiness?”

Oma said nothing in response and simply stormed out of the room with what vigor she had left. The spines along her neck vibrating in irritation loudly enough that Sasha could hear her walking all the way to the end of the hall and out the doors leading to the hospitals exit.

Sasha fell back into her chair and stewed while replayed the moments out again and again in her mind. Her assistance came into the room several minutes later and found her as such.

“Shall I remove Ms. Oma from your patient list?” they asked with data pad in hand, but Sasha shook her head.

“She may have given up on me, but I will not give up on getting her the proper treatment.” Sasha said as she cleaned up her desk and prepared for her next appointment.

“How very honorable of you.” Her assistance remarked as they stowed away the data pad. “I never took you for a faithful one seeking to save the lost souls.”

Sasha looked down at the x-ray one last time before placing it back into Oma’s folder and putting it away.

“One does not need faith to do the right thing.”

[theesirenteller]

𝙃𝙞𝙨 𝙗𝙤𝙢𝙗𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙡.

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ғᴀɴᴅᴏᴍ ⇶ Sons Of Anarchy

ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ ⇶ Jax Teller

ʟᴏᴠᴇ ɪɴᴛʀᴇsᴛ ⇶ Bluebell Luanne Buckley (original character)

ᴅᴇsᴄʀɪᴘᴛɪᴏɴ ⇶ sᴇᴛ ɪɴ sᴇᴀsᴏɴ ᴏɴᴇ; ᴛʜᴇ sᴏɴs ɢᴇᴛ ɪɴᴛᴏ ʙᴜsɪɴᴇss ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ʀᴀɴᴄʜᴇʀ ɴᴀᴍᴇᴅ ʀᴀɴᴅʏ ʙᴜᴄᴋʟᴇʏ; ᴀ ᴍᴀɴ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ sʟɪᴄᴋ ᴍᴏᴜᴛʜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴜɢʟʏ ᴍᴜsᴛᴀᴄʜᴇ; ʙᴜᴛ ʜɪs ᴄᴀʀɴᴀɢᴇ ᴛᴜʀɴᴇᴅ ɢʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴍᴇᴀᴛ ʙᴜsɪɴᴇss ᴘʀᴏᴠᴇs ᴜsᴇғᴜʟ ғᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ʙɪᴋᴇʀs. ᴛʜɪɴɢs sᴛᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴏ ɢᴇᴛ ᴛʀɪᴄᴋʏ ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʀɪɴᴄᴇ ᴏғ sᴀᴍ ᴄʀᴏ ᴛᴀᴋᴇs ᴀ ʟɪᴋɪɴɢ ᴛᴏᴡᴀʀᴅs ʀᴀɴᴅʏ's sᴏᴜᴛʜᴇʀɴ ʙᴇʟʟᴇ ɴɪᴇᴄᴇ. sʟɪɢʜᴛ ᴀᴜ ᴊᴀx ᴛᴇʟʟᴇʀ sɪɴᴄᴇ ʜᴇ's ɪɴ ʜɪs ᴇᴀʀʟʏ ᴛᴡᴇɴᴛɪᴇs ᴀɴᴅ ғʀᴇsʜʟʏ ᴘᴀᴛᴄʜᴇᴅ ɪɴ.

The Full Fic is being edited then uploaded to A03

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The Blue skies of charming seemed a little bluer, the air a little crisper, and the sun shined a little brighter. Church ended faster than Jax expected but he was thankful. He now sat in one of the booths at the back of the clubhouse. His phone was clutched in his hands as he texted away with a boyish smile on his lips. " Hey. " Opie smacked his hands against the table, catching his friend's attention. " You coming with Tig and I to the titty bar? It's free taco Tuesday so Tig's pretty excited," he said.

" Greasy tacos and beer? sounds tempting but nah man, I've got plans. " Jax grinned as he stood up. Before Opie could question him further, The bubbly blonde rushed out of the clubhouse.

Today was Thursday. Which meant it was the one day a week that Jax and Bluebell got to have an afternoon date. And this time it was Jax's turn to pick their date destination. Some Instyle magazine at the gas station he'd passed stated women liked being pampered by their boyfriends. The list was long, stating different ways that a guy could pamper and spoil their girl. One option stood out to him…a salon trip. Jax had been to the salon only a handful of times with his mother and that was when he was a child. Gemma kept the same style at the Charming Salon. He didn't pay much attention to who attended and who didn't. This time around he passed by often and noticed that no one that had Bluebell's hair texture ever attended the salon. The few biracial and black women who went by the salon always came out with straightened hair. No fancy styles or anything he'd seen in Seventeen, AMINA, and Sister to Sister magazines at the gas station on the outskirts of town.

So Jax got creative. He surfed the web and came across a salon called Afrolicious Beauties. The website had ' Black Owned Business since 1961' and had endless amounts of photos of diverse black women with various hair textures and styles. The prices weren't outrageous either. So it didn't take Jax much longer after that to make an appointment for Bell. He loved her curly fro but was curious to see how she would look in a different hairstyle and he hoped she'd enjoy the pampering. The sunkissed biker wasn't sure what to exactly ask for but after a long conversation with a woman named Annie on the opposite end of the line; a deep conditioner and silk press were booked.

Bluebell finished her shift and bid her cousin Duggie goodbye before she sat outside awaiting her boyfriend. She wore a mid-length beige floral dress that had a square-lace embroidered neckline. The flowers on the dress were colored in rose pink with hints of periwinkle, and some touches of melon green. lace trim scattered around the bottom hem of the dress that stopped a few inches above her ankles. The dress had been her mother's and it was one of many that she found in the storage shed. her cowboy boots tapped against the wooden porch floor as she waited. Soon enough the familiar rumbling of a motorcycle engine filled her ears causing a smile to form across her face. Bluebell stood up on her feet and walked off the porch just as Jax rolled up in front of her.

The two smiled at one another like two love-struck fools the moment their eyes met. " Hey there beautiful, you need a ride? " The blonde flirted. His hand extended out.

" I would love to, thank you. " she giggled. her hand grasping onto his own as she got on the back of his bike. Bluebell snuggled his helmet onto her head and locked the clasp shut before wrapping her arms around his waist.

" Oh, Honeybee, you're wearing the shirt! You look so handsome! '' Bluebell gushed from behind him as she hugged him close. A few days prior she'd sewed him a light blue and white flannel that he currently wore. It truly did bring out the vibrancy of the blue in his eyes.

Tilting his head to the side, he had stolen a tender peck from her lips. " Thanks, babe," he replied. Jax loved it and knowing she'd made it special for him made his heart warm. He smiled like a kid on Christmas and waited until their date to wear it.

It felt like they were flying. Jax sped out of charming like a bat out of hell. The route was much different than their usual one and Bluebell sat wide-eyed in the back of him. The sun didn't seem to bother and the air felt like a kiss from god, soft and gentle.

The two soon arrived at a train station. Located by a long railway near the border of the highway eight miles away from Charming. Bluebell's eyes filled with inquisitive eagerness at the sight. A small barn-like area sat a few feet away from it where a handful of cars and bikes were parked. Jax averted his bike in that direction. Parking in Section Seven, spot 2B. A small coin slot machine sat in front of the spot. The farmer girl had gotten off first and Jax followed suit.

" We're taking a train," Bluebell stated. Excitement bounced off her words as she looked up at him.

" Yeah, babe. I told you I'd be taking us on an adventure. " he grinned.

After placing a toll fee of six dollars for three hours, Jax's bike was securely locked in. His arm draped around Bluebell's shoulder as he nuzzled her close to his side. The way walked the short distance to the station. Jax led them to the high platform where a total of eight people were. Bluebell hadn't asked where they were going, she was all for surprises and wanted to enjoy the ride.

" Thanks, Honeybee. '' she smiled. soon placing an adorning kiss on the side of his jaw. During their late-night hangouts and conversations about any and everything, she had mentioned wanting to ride a train. She'd seen the train in the movie Harry Potter once as a child and thought it'd be swell to experience that one day for herself.

" Don't mention it babe. " he hummed. A bashful blush scorched his cheeks as she hugged him tightly. The way she looked at him like he was a knight in shining armor or some prince. It made his throat go dry and the hair at the back of his neck sweatily smacked to his skin.

The loud tooting of the train engine caught the couple's attention and excitement sparkled in both of their eyes as it approached. " Train to Solana Beach approaching the station, please stand away from the platform edge." a robotic voice said through the speakers.

The couple stood close beside each other as the train came to a stop before Bluebell eagerly rushed in. Her hand tugged Jaxs as she went down the aisle. Singular and double seats were on either side of the aisle, painted in blue and cream-colored leather. Once located in the middle cart, a mischievous smile formed across Jax's lips. He swept his arms around her waist and with a swift motion tackled them both into a random double seat. a loud squeak and laugh escaped Bluebell's lips causing a few looks from bypassers to be shot their way.

" One of these days yuh ' gon break me in half Jax. I ain't some rag doll yuh' can mangle around. " Bluebell hissed. A faux upset glare on her face as her hands smacked against his arms. His goofy smile made her mirror him.

He said nothing. His eyes were wide with enlarged dilated pupils. Creases formed at the corner of his lids. Cheeks, ears, and neck kissed with the shade rouge red. The promise that she would be his forever laid within her mocha eyes. No words were needed. Jax nuzzled his nose against the side of her cheek, his rough hands cradled the side of her neck. Bluebell's scent reminded him of the strawberry milkshakes she drank religiously. Soft and airy yet sweet almost like strawberries covered in creamy vanilla with powdered sugar. How she always smelt so good remained a mystery to him. He knew the details of how she loved concocting oil in her kitchen but good lord. his lips pressed gently against the crease of her exposed collarbone.

Jax's acts of adornment made Bluebell's heart flutter. She never felt this feeling of being loved and safe before. Was she living in a fairytale? How had she become a princess? She felt more than a farm girl in his arms. Bluebell felt like the girls she'd seen in sappy afternoon Hallmark movies. Jax gave her a feeling that could only be described as seeing the sun for the first time, that feeling shook her down to her core. She breathed him in. Drank in his affection. Craved the taste of cigarettes and bitter beer on his lips. Needed his heavenly smile and sapphire eyes to settle on her for Bluebell to function properly. This had to be love. Love was pure. Love was unexplainable. Love was strange. Love was invincible. Love was feeling like the only two people in the world. Love wasn't real, it was something that you could touch. It was an emotion that came as easy as breathing. Love felt freeing. And by god Bluebell Buckley felt all of that and more that couldn't be put into words for Jax.

Her warm arms embraced him, wrapped around his shoulders with her chest pressed against his. Tender kisses were stolen from one another. The two only pulled away to laugh or for Jax to show their tickets to the aisle clerk. His arm draped over her dress-covered thighs as they two looked out the window. Ever since he and Bluebell had gotten together Jax had gotten a chance to venture outside of Charming for fun instead of for club business. Girls were hot in every city or town but none compared to his Bell. A Samcrow member from Washington he'd met on the road had no problem gushing about how great his old lady was. Jax remembered the twenty-six-year-old man saying " It's nice to be married. You slutty fuckers are missing out. "

Jax and Bluebell weren't married and despite laughing alongside his brothers, Jax could relate to an extent. Despite not being sure of the future or worrying about it, one thing Jackson knew was that Bluebell would be his old lady. He couldn't imagine marrying anyone else. Who else would make him feel this way? Jax could bet a hundred dollars not even his parents experienced this type of love. Where being touch starved never existed. Never feeling angry and always being happy was all there was.

Twenty minutes later the young couple arrived at Palm Tree Paradise. The city was diverse, families of different ethnicities walked the streets. The scent of different spices and food vibrantly roamed the air. Bluebell grasped Jax's hand as she walked closely beside him with a smile on her lips and wanderlust in her eyes. The pair passed a series of small shops that sold everything from clothing to trinkets to hair accessories and food. Everything was so colorful and pastel. Jax eyed a leather apparel shop as they passed by it. Both men's and women's apparel was displayed and the various cuts and styles caught his attention.

They'd passed by a few more shops before arriving at the hair salon. The display on the outside of the salon was bright purple. Bluebell looked through the shop window before looking up at Jax with a confused expression. " Surprise babe. I booked you a salon appointment. figured some pampering outside of Charming would be fun. " he grinned.

Like a child being given a puppy Bluebell squealed and hugged him " Aww Suga! Thanks, Honeybee. " They both hugged and laughed.

" Don't thank me yet babe. Wait until it's all done. " He replied as he took her hand in his own, going inside.

" This is gonna be so fun. " Bluebell whispered to herself from behind him. She practically hopscotched into the shop.

The place was lively. Various plants scattered around the purple-colored salon. Fancy leather chairs and the speakers played Erykah Badu's On & On, giving the shop a more cozy and tranquil feel to it. The place smelled of Lavender and Sage mixed with the smokey scent of flat irons and floor cleaner. The woman at the front desk was beautiful. Smooth golden brown skin with honey blonde hair, busty and built curvy. She had a phone placed against her ear and smiled at the pair.

" Hi! I'm Bluebell. " Bell greeted cheerfully. Her smile is bright and welcoming. Her accent is heavy.

" I'm Jax, I'm looking for Annie. I booked an appointment for 2;30. " Jax spoke up from beside her.

" I'm Annie. Nice to meet y'all. " The hairstylist smiled. her attention was directed to Bluebell `` Are you from Georgia? Your accent is adorable. "

" I am! Have you been there ma'am? " Bluebell replied. She and Jax followed behind Annie as she led them through the busy shop. Bluebell waved at a few people who stared at them.

" Mhm. I've got family all up and through there. Have a seat, honey. " Annie replied as she patted the salon chair at the washing station.

Jax already felt a bit out of place due to pure boredom. Also, he was thirsty since the ride was long and the drinks on board were overpriced. As Bluebell took a seat, he asked her " Hey Bell you good here? I'm gonna go get a drink and check out this shop I saw. Do you want anything? "

She looked up at him as a black cape was placed over her " Mhm. I'll be alright. Anything sugary be fine, maybe a strawberry milkshake. " she replied.

A smile spread across his lips as the golden-haired biker smiled and swiftly pecked her lips. " Strawberry milkshake got it. text me if you need me," he reassured. When she nodded in agreement he strolled out the shop.

" He's a cutie girl and damn sure seems smitten with you. " Annie commented. " How long y'all been together? " she asked as she began washing Bluebell's thick coils in cool water. Annie started the wash with a rosemary clarifying shampoo and sea salt scalp scrub.

Bluebell closed her eyes and smiled with glee as she began to enjoy the service. " Thank you, ma'am. We've been together for a month and three days. Jax is the cutest boy I ever did see. Cutest in our town. " she said. pride in her voice.

Annie chuckled to herself. Young love was so sweet. " Cutest in town huh? That ain't hard to believe. Where are y'all from anyway? "

" Mhm. We're from Charming. " The moment she said the name, a few women in the shop stopped talking.

" Oh, chile hell no. I heard from my cousin Ricky that them redneck Aryan warriors live there. Them fools are dangerous and love to skin and do all types of fucked up shit to black folks. " An older woman spoke up with a head shake.

" I hope your man is protected girl cause them fools get batshit crazy when they see one of their own with a sista. " Another hairstylist said.

" Oh geez. Well, Jax is well protected. I don't live too deep into town. I live with my uncle and cousin on our ranch. '' Bluebell reassured them. The conversation continued and jumped to various topics. Bluebell was given a deeply nourishing coconut and honey hot oil treatment whilst the ladies all chit-chatted.

Meanwhile, Jax went into the leather shop he'd been eyeing. It was a second-hand rare-find shop. The small space was filled to the brim with various pieces and a lot of them reminded him of jackets and vests his dad owned. A particular jacket caught his eye. It was black with a glossed shine of midnight blue with skull patches, a lucky 18 patch, and a 'skull's island forever' engravement on the back. Jax was sure this was the exact jacket his father John owned before he died. Six months before to be exact.

" That one's forty bucks. ten percent off if you buy a second jacket. '' the shop owner said from behind him.

Jax turned around with the jacket in hand and faced the man who looked to be in his sixties. " Where'd you get it from? " Jax asked.

" Somewhere in Ireland a few months ago. This chick I was shacking up with had a ton of pieces like that she got rid of. " The elderly man informed him.

Jax sucked in a breath as he nodded. " I'll take it." he agreed. '` Where are your women's jackets? " He was soon directed to a rack a few feet away. The bright pastel colors or tacky writing like 'Sex on legs' writing on the back of the jackets made him want to vomit. He kept swiping through the racks until one in particular caught his eye.

'Total badass' Jax thought to himself as he picked it up. Cropped, midnight black genuine leather with customized silver bullet-shaped studs covering the whole exterior. Bigger spikes stuck out of the wrist and shoulder area. It was fairly small and the size inside read ' medium '. It may fit slightly oversized on Bluebell but Jax was positive it was made for her. His girl would be the hottest babe in Charming riding out the back of his bike with a jacket like that. Excitement bubbled within him as he nearly drooled imagining her in nothing but it on and maybe her cowgirl boots. He quickly brought both to the front counter.

" Ah, nice choice. " The owner commented. " Eighty bucks kid," he added.

Jax dropped four twenty dollar bills onto the counter with a smirk " Pleasure doing business with you. '' Once the items were bagged, Jax collected them and left. He walked along the boardwalk searching for an ice cream place but stumbled across a bar instead. Sending a handsome smile to a few blondes that smiled his way, he entered the bar. It was a small place that looked like a cramped cabana. people his and Bluebell's age all hand beers and fruity-looking drinks in hand.

He took a seat at the bar and ordered himself a beer. His ocean-blue eyes fell to the menu that was tapped to the counter. a drink called ' Blueberry Blaster' stood out to him. It consisted of cream soda, rum, blue Curacao, and blueberry syrup with vanilla soft serve on top with pineapple pieces. Sounded super sugary and Jax was sure Bluebell would like it.

When the bartender who looked no older than twenty-five slid Jax the beer, Jax ordered two of the Blueberry Blasters to go. A busty bleach-blonde babe with orange-tanned skin soon sat beside him as he took his first sip. " Haven't seen you around here before. You're a sight for sore eyes. '' she purred with a low raspy voice.

As Jax turned his attention towards her, the blonde slipped her wide-framed pink shades onto her head. Her natural pale skin circled her eye area which badly contrasted the orange tone of her tan. Shimmery red lipstick on her lips.

" Wish I could say the same. " He replied as he stood up from his stool. His drinks were brought to him packaged in a cardboard carrier. Jax slipped his total of twenty bucks onto the counter. Smiling at the blonde who shot him an icy glare before he left.

Jax prayed Bluebell was done or near done. He hated the smell of burning irons. His mother's flat iron stuck up in the bathroom often. He set the carrier on a bench a few stops away from the salon and took a seat. The eighteen-year-old enjoyed his beer as he watched the ocean waves. The chilled beverage quenched his thirst as Jax thought of how cool it'd be to live on the beach and enjoy beers like this while working on his bike. Then later on when the sun would go down he and Bluebell would enjoy dinner on some patio somewhere nice. ' a man can dream ' he sighed to himself, finishing his beer in two more gulps. His phone vibrated in his pocket and once he fished it out he read over a few texts. two from Gemma telling him to not forget to bring home salsa and guac. one from Opie asking what he was doing and the latest one was Bluebell telling him she was done.

Jax swaggered his way to the salon and once going inside Annie greeted him first at the front counter. " She's in the restroom. " Annie informed.

" Thanks. " He smiled before paying the tab.

"Honey Bee!" He was caught off guard by tightly being hugged from the side by his bubbly babe. Jax turned and returned the hug before taking a step back. It was then he stopped breathing. His sapphire eyes grew wide and his mouth gasped as he eyed her. Bluebell looked like an absolute bombshell! Her dark brown almost black colored hair was blown out in layers that stopped at the middle of her arms, just above her elbows. The fluffy full waves framed her baby face and Jax thought he'd pass out right there. Abruptly Jax picked her up with his arms wrapped around her thighs as his lips crashed into hers. Bluebell released a giggle against his lips as the women around them awed and some clapped. Her hands cupped his face as their lips moved against one another sweetly… Jax's lips caressed hers with a meaningful peck as he carefully set her down " You look like an angel Bell. " he complimented. His words are adorned with tenderness. " No need to give me a heart attack. Jax joked earning a smack to his arm.

" Here you go bein full of cow poop again. '' Bluebell giggled. " Thanks, baby. " she expressed it genuinely. Bluebell waved goodbye to everyone and promised to come by and see them again before she and Jax left.

His arm was around her shoulder as he walked proudly beside her. " These look yummy! " Bluebell commented as she held their drinks. Jax led her to the bench he once occupied and Bell sat on his lap. " What are they ? " she asked.

" They're called Blueberry Blasters. They've got vanilla ice cream, pineapple bits, blueberry syrup, and uh…" He paused before finishing. " They've got liquor. Remember those wine coolers we tried last week? '' When she nodded he proceeded, " Something like that but a little stronger babe. "

Bluebell had only drunk once before and those were merely coolers after a late-night trip to Dairy Queen. They tasted good but were a little strong and made her feel all hot on the inside. These looked much more tasty. " Okay. '' As long as Jax was by her side, the farmer girl felt confident and open to try new things like this. Popping open the plastic spoon-straw contraption from its wrapper, she took one of the drinks into her hands. Jax watched as Bluebell sipped slowly. Her pupils expanded as the sugary sweet beverage went down her throat. Sweet, and fruity, and the bitterness of the alcohol was barely there. Masked by a sprite-like fizzle effect. " It's so good. '' she smiled as soon as she pulled her lips from the straw. Bluebell followed it up with spoonfuls of the soft serve. Jax chuckled in response before Bluebell shared hers with him. And even he could admit it was good. The pair got back on the train just before the sun was ready to set. Cuddled up in each other's arms with gleeful smiles plastered across their lips.

[thinkpink212]

How to effectively plan your week by using Astrology

☾ I have been using astrology for the past 2 years to not only help my manifestations but also just better structure my months and better avoid burnouts through prioritization. ☾ The weekdays and hours all have rulers that can help point to where it is most beneficial to place our focus and efforts.

☽ The Day of the Moon - Monday ☾ This is the best day for you to take care of your emotional and mental wellbeing. Seek to get more rest, meditate, journal, avoid stressful people and situations. This is also a great time to handle lighter domestic tasks such as laundry, cooking, light cleaning and other essentials that help improve your space. Lastly, this is a great day to check in on your emotions and indulge in nostalgia. 

♂The Day of Mars - Tuesday ♂ This is a day with a higher and faster pace, so you may find yourself with more energy and bravado. You should therefore seek to move your body more, follow that ambitious energy and even allow yourself to be more bold. 

☿ The Day of Mercury - Wednesday ☿ On this day communication, creativity and coming together is made easy. This makes this an optimal day for learning, studying (especially in groups), solving problems and organizing your life/space. A day such as this is also great for further developing your ideas, answer emails and resolve conflicts

 ♃ The Day of Jupiter - Thursday ♃ A day like this is meant for expanding and exploring. So, do more research, learn something new, go on adventure and delve deeper into your spiritual or religious practice(s). On days like this, we may find ourselves having more unique and out of this world experiences that feel perfectly planned yet so random. Lastly, this is a perfect day to try your luck and trust the process

♀The Day of Venus - Friday ♀ For the day of love and beauty, you may find yourself enjoying it best by spreading love to yourself and others. Take this time to book your beauty appointments (hair, nails, teeth, waxing etc.), spoil yourself, indulge in good food, art and company. And lastly, wear your cutests most favorite clothes and treat the day like it belongs to you. 

 ♄ The Day of Saturn - Saturday ♄ This is a more serious day where the things that have been put off or need special attention should and most likely will be done. This is a day where you may find yourself being more able to hold yourself accountable, refocusing on your goals and re-establishing any structures that may have been broken throughout the /month. So on this day, take care of longer and more grueling tasks, and plan for the upcoming week. Lastly, this is also a day most seem to shine brighter at work, so take advantage of that energy.

☉ The Day Of the Sun - Sunday ☉ This is a day to spend the day focused on ourselves and enjoy the slowness of it all. If the sun is bright, sit under it and recharge. On this day, connecting with our ego can feel easier, so, journal, get your thoughts out, write down your gratitudes, wishes, wants, disappointments and remind yourself of who you are and recenter.  This is a day of choosing you first! 

What Now? Look at your life and to your best abilities, schedule everything according to what fits your wants & needs with the rulerships of each day. Mondays are for moon-thingz, so even if you can’t get off on Monday, attempt to still rest, recharge and take care of your environment. We live within a very structured world, where many of us start on Monday, so attempt to do what you can with what you have. Many joke that they  hate monday, and that may be because the energies of that day do not align with having to begin a long week of working. And oppositely, Friday is loved because it is Venus – we want to be social, seek beauty and love. With the end of the long workweek being Friday, it fulfills Venusian desires, so it tends to be a day that goes much smoother for many. We live within a very structured world, where many of us start on Monday, so attempt to do what you can with what you have. Many joke that they  hate monday, and that may be because the energies of that day do not align with having to begin a long week of working. And oppositely, Friday is loved because it is Venus – we want to be social, seek beauty and love. With the end of the long workweek being Friday, it fulfills Venusian desires, so it tends to be a day that goes much smoother for many 🌸

[skulla-rxcks]

✧☆Makeup Smudges☆✧

Pairing: Lee Felix x Fem reader

Rating: Explicit (Adult)

Genre: smut, slight fluff

Warnings: Oral sex, fingering, Use of nicknames, slight begging

!THIS IS PURE FICTION, NOTHING IN THIS IS REAL ITS JUST A STORY!

Felix decides to get ready extra early for a photoshoot. Turns out there was WAY more time than needed. Including messing up and having to redo everything.

Ding dong. Strange, the rains pattering and no one’s usually in the studio at this time, last time I checked no one booked in. Oh well, might as well see who it is, I’ll just tell them to leave either way, well it depends on the person.

I get up from my desk, stretching my arms as i walk towards the door, it’s so dark i can barely see a thing. I sigh, opening the door and slowly peaking outside from a gap so the rain doesn’t come in. “Felix?” I open the door and let him in before closing it again.

My eyes begin to wander around the room for something to make this a nice experience and so be warms up due to the rain. I spot a blanket, which I give to him so he can warm up. I flick a switch then wait for the kettle to boil. Proceeding to put two tea bags in two cups, i grab a jug of milk and bring it over to the lounge area, i place the beverages on the table in front of us. Felix sighs as he sips his drink, opening his mouth as he’s getting ready to speak. “I’m so sorry for coming here at.. 12 in the morning. Look, I have a photo shoot in a few hours and I think it’ll be best to get ready now. I knew you’d be awake so I just came here” he explains, “sure, sit over there. I’ll be there soon.” I chuckle as i point towards the lit up studio mirror and gesture him to sit down.

I sigh and open my mouth to speak. “Oh my god. Sunshine, I’ve given you a makeover on both Tuesday and Thursday this week, you really wanna see me don’t you? Anyways, hair first I’m guessing?” Felix nods in response to his hair being done first.

I start brushing his hair then I work my fingers in a pattern to braid it.

“So when are you free for the next appointment?” A smile pulls at his lips; with the obvious intent of wanting to annoy me.

“You’re annoying.. you know you’re pretty much my only client. I’m free most of the time. Expect for Fridays, those are my ‘Felix free’ days.” Bloody hell. This man can act so much like a child sometimes,

It’s insane!

Being friends with the LEE FELIX is and has been more chaotic than I thought.

I place my hands on his shoulders. I see that stupid smile plastered on his face once again.

“Makeup time?” Felix asks, saying exactly what I was going to. Wouldn’t be surprised if he could dig into peoples brains and say what they were going to before they had the chance to. “Just sit on my bed it would be easiest, more comfortable than the couch or chairs. Plus, either way, I have more supplies in my room”.

We go into my bedroom, i sit Felix down on my bed. I place myself in his lap as i apply the foundation, powder and blush. Making a base for the makeup. I lean into him further, applying the eyeliner. I grab his face with my other hand as i steady it to draw the wing on.

“You’re closer than usual” he chuckles and opens his eyes, making me blush automatically as he stares into my eyes.

“Because i.. just shut up!” “You sure don’t look like you want me to shut up..” I feel coldness on my waist making me squirm, Felix’s hands slowly wrap around my waist, pulling me in close. “Hey hey hey, I’m just joking around. If you want I’ll sto-“

I cut him off by leaning into him more and cutting him off with my lips. My knees rest on either side of his hips. Beginning to pull away due to realisation of my actions, but it doesn’t work. I feel myself getting drawn towards Felix once again he pulls me closer so both of our lips are touching before turning me around and proceeding to pin me onto the wall. Letting me take a small breather too.

”I’m sorry this is so wrong in so many ways..”

Felix whispers, i watch his cheeks flushed from embarrassment. “I.. don’t care, we’re already this far and.. I need you. I need you so badly please.. Sunshine please..” his hand slides up my thigh as I say that. A shiver runs through me as he hooks his fingers under my panties.

“I wanna taste you so bad baby.. come here” Felix positions my legs around his neck so he can easily eat me to paradise.

Fuck, I can’t wait any longer. “I need your mouth honey..” a moan escapes my mouth, I push his head more into me. The noises get louder as they slip out of my mouth in response to him licking little flickers on my clit. He slides 2 fingers into my hole, pumping them in slowly before speeding up and repeatedly pounding my g spot. Felix moves up to my lips and kisses me slowly and lovingly as he fingers my cunt. “Mm… you.. mhmmm.. are you.. close?” He groans between kisses.

“ahh.. D-don’t stop.. nghh.. I’m about to-!” My head falls back against the wall along with my moans of ecstasy as I release my juices all over his fingers.

“I guess we have to redo my makeup in a bit, we have ages though. Let’s cuddle up with each other for now~ I’m tired.”

Felix groans and wraps his arms around me, snuggling into my chest before resting his eyes. I’ll have to wake him soon or I can redo his makeup while he’s asleep.

Originally posted on my ao3

© 2023 skulla_rxcks

[fleckcmscott]

Room Service

Summary: A radio program spurs Arthur's bolder side. What he comes up with is just what Y/N needs.

Words: 4,389

Warnings: Swearing, Smut

A/N: This story has been percolating in my brain, since my husband and I rewatched Vertigo a few weeks back. 🌃 Hope you all enjoy this fun little excursion! A special thank you to @iartsometimes​ for beta-ing! 😃

If you have any thoughts or questions, please comment, feel free to message me, or send me an ask. Requests for Arthur and WWH are open!

It was a sunny day in Gotham City, and Arthur's heart beat with a warmth to match. Three sugar cubes sweetened a mug of staff room coffee, a stale but free offer. He tapped cigarette ash into the metal sink, counted down the seconds. Pressed painted lips into a line, crimson curved by unfurling pride.

When - when exactly - had he become the kind of man who'd book a hotel for a rendezvous?

Sure, Y/N and he had overnighted before. Hotels and motels and one inn with strands of hair stuck to the soap. And they'd made love at most of them. But getting it on (as one of her favorite songs called it) hadn't been the purpose of their stays. One weekend, he'd tagged along to Philadelphia during the East Coast Paralegal conference, where he'd shrugged at the Liberty Bell and taken in a comedy show. Despite her comment that Boston felt like a sibling trying to keep up with Gotham, the city had had its charms.

Maybe he should thank Dr. Sally. They'd finally caught her show together, sans tight fit in the tub. "It's Perfectly Normal" had been the episode's title, exemplifying the good doctor's usual encouragements. In what she'd described as an effort to put listeners at ease and start a dialogue between the sexes, she'd discussed men and women's most common sexual fantasies. He'd licked his thumb and turned to a fresh page in his notebook.

Men dreamed of touching their lovers' intimately (been there), going down on them (done that),and receiving in turn (check, check, check). Beyond faceless fantasy women, sleeping with a stranger held no interest for him. He'd be liable to crack up and droop in five seconds flat.

Domination was what women desired, a type of power play. The notion had made him shift in his seat. Those dynamics hadn't ever existed between he and Y/N, not that he was aware. They went with what felt natural, what felt good, what felt right. Why complicate it when life was already complicated enough? At Dr. Sally's mention of threesomes, Y/N had taken on the look of a woman who'd eaten bad fish. But the phrase New Location had ironed out the wrinkles on her nose.

From where she'd knelt to dust the TV stand, she'd shot him a look brimming with suggestion. "Write that one down."

He had. Over and over in the margins. That was a language his romantic inclinations understood, a vocabulary that matched.

On his way home from an appointment, he'd walked seven extra blocks, muttering and smoking and wondering where they should go. Dinner at Bamonte's was guaranteed to start with gnocchi and end inside her. A romp in her office was out of the question. The mere thought of it made his frame stiff as a ramrod. If they screwed up and her boss somehow caught wind of it...

Then the answer stopped Arthur in his tracks.

A four-story sign dominated the early twentieth century building, read "Hotel Empire" in vertical neon letters. The place was six stories short with a stucco façade. It was narrow, four rooms across, squished between the apartment building to its right and the club to its left as an afterthought.

With the practiced swagger of the hoping to impress, Arthur crossed the lobby's faded marble floor. He lay an arm on the mahogany front desk and addressed the lone receptionist. "Hi. I'd like to book a room for next week."

The middle-aged man in a bellman cap gnawed a soggy toothpick. He had the craggy face of a fellow working stiff. "The whole week?"

"No. Just Thursday. Thursday night."

Toothpick flipped through a reservation book, tapped a series of blank lines. "We've got a couple on the third floor. Non-smoking. Two doubles or twins?"

"One king?"

A hotel reservation sheet slid across the desk. "Fill this out. I'll need an ID."

Once Arthur had stuffed his Gotham City ID back in his wallet, he jotted his name, address, and initialed the nonrefundable deposit agreement. But the form demanded a phone number.

"You can't call about it," he said. Realizing how this could be misconstrued, he fumbled with the pen. "It's a surprise. For my wife."

Toothpick's pause said he'd heard this story often enough to disbelieve it. "Uh huh. Well, show up or not. It's no skin off my nose." He stuck the papers in a leatherette folder, where gold letters spelling Hotel Empire had flaked off. "Check-in starts at three, you've gotta check out by eleven. We have in-room dining, but if you ask me, $6.95 for a BLT ain't worth it." He bent and spit his toothpick in the trash as if hawking tobacco in a spittoon. Arthur managed to blink instead of recoil. Toothpick continued and straightened his cap. "Dunbar's is two blocks down, that's a better bet if you ask me. If you've got any questions, just call. See you next week."

Arthur had exited with his pulse racing like a snare drum - and it hadn't slowed since.

"Hey, my man."

Ryan's energetic greeting tugged Arthur back to the present. Ryan was a teacher in what was called the resource room, which meant he taught children with learning challenges. Children like Arthur. Ryan's wife Sheila had hired Arthur for a birthday party last summer, and they'd found Carnival so charming, he'd been recommended for Gotham Elementary's winter fundraiser. A return to his old stomping ground.

"Lunch period's almost over." Ryan offered a divided lunch tray with five chicken nuggets, reconstituted mashed potatoes, canned peas, a cinnamon roll, and a small carton of milk. "The kids are already lining up for more of your puffy stickers, and it's my turn in the sponge toss."

Stubbing out his cigarette, Arthur took the tray. His grip on it tightened. "Do you think I could get out of here at three? I know we'd said four, but I have a date. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I'll give you back the six dollars for the hour. You- You can put it in the donation bo-"

"It's all right. These kids'll be ready for a nap at two. Hell, I'll want one." Ryan sat on the metal table parallel to the sink. "What's your girl do, anyway?"

"She's a paralegal. She has a three-day trial this week, and I wanted to, you know. Make it easier."

Ryan snagged a nugget from the tray. "You don't have to explain. Sheila's been nagging me to go see that new movie, the one where the chick dies just when the guy tells her he loves her? What a waste." A long resigned, sigh. "I should probably take her this weekend. It'll make my life easier."

Arthur grinned. Maybe he and Ryan were on the bumpy track to becoming friends. And a good friend would offer advice. "Y/N and I go to Capitol Cinemas. They have couple seats, and the popcorn has three types of toppings."

~~~~~

Y/N strode along the Ditmas Ave subway platform, excusing herself, weaving her way in and out of the throng. She ascended concrete stairs, sucked in a long breath. Crisp air filled her lungs, eased the tension from her tendons. Welcome invigoration after hours of being trapped inside Gotham Central Court House, a grand old Romanesque building in dire need of an updated ventilation system. Its chlorine corridors stank of a YMCA pool.

When she slid through her apartment's door, her canvas court bag dropped to the floor. She toed off her commuter boots, peeled away her suede gloves. "I'm home!" she called.

Only to be answered by silence.

She stepped forward into the living room. A rerun should've played on TV, or the radio set to Arthur's beloved golden oldies while he puttered about. She checked her watched. Hm.

He'd said he'd be back by five; it was nearing quarter to now. The doors to the bathroom and bedroom stood open, tiles and blankets bathed in inky blackness. Itching to glimpse the burning end of a cigarette, she went to the glass door to the fire escape. It was nicotine free.

The O line could've gotten stuck on the tracks, or Arthur's gig might've gone so well that he was in the middle of handing out business cards. She hoped it was the latter. Unbuttoning her wool coat, she turned towards the kitchen, ready to throw together a dinner with whatever was in their cupboards. A spaghetti and garlic tomato sauce kind of night.

A low light in the corner of her eye, slivers of soft yellow behind the room divider in the rear corner. Ah ha. That was it. He was lost in thought and notebook in equal measure. She padded to the writing nook, ready to cup his shoulders, peck the crown of his head, drown in the potent musk of his hair.

The empty chair arched her brow. But there was a crème brûlée envelope on his desk, her name in uneven cursive. Smack in the middle, sure to grab her attention. A magnet that drew all the iron in her blood.

Eager fingers tore the flap. Aftershave wafted to her nose, smoked sandalwood and man. A black business card peeked out, framed by gold Gatsby corners, an ad for a hotel in Hinkley she'd never heard of. The accompanying note was folded in half. "Meet me here. Room 307." She pressed the lined paper to her sternum, iron rushing to spots below her waistline.

Whether it was thoughtful gestures or his simple presence, Arthur had a knack for brightening the most stressful day. Just a couple weeks ago, he'd called her office to say he'd picked up her favorite bottle of wine. It was as though finding someone wasn't the only thing he considered an accomplishment (a point of view that too often led to low efforts), but also the choice to maintain, to nurture the ideas that defined their couplehood. A beautiful perspective that made him so easy to love.

It made Y/N sheepish, how initiating those gestures didn't come as naturally to her, nor as often. No, she never missed special occasions and holidays. And she was good at the tough stuff, a stabilizing wall, stalwart and true. Still. She wanted to get better at the return.

Another whiff of cologne hit her nostrils, spurred her to hurry to the bedroom. She flicked on the light, rifled through the top right drawer of the vanity, where she found a bottle of perfume. Puckering her lips, she swept plum pink along the bottom, applied a dot of pigment to the corners. One hand unbuttoned the first two buttons of her scarlet blouse. The other touched up her eyeliner and shoved the stick in her skirt pocket.

She'd make what he'd planned for tonight a chance to start evening the score.

~~~~~

Not too shabby, not too fancy. A good room and Arthur had done well to book it.

Two bay windows overlooked the street, cracked pavement mottled by slush. Drawn velvet drapes allowed neon light to coat the space in a rich verdant. Pointed blocks intersected egg-and-dart molding at each corner, stark white on satin walls. The dials on the television threwback to the age when he'd have to get off his ass to change the channel. A compact writing desk buttressed the far wall, Mr. Coffee machine and paper filters ready for use. Perfectly plumped pillows had a thank you card along with two after dinner mints, like out of a movie. He ate them both.

He sat on the edge of the bed and bounced twice. The right amount of give, the springs' squeaks quiet enough to be a pleasant soundtrack instead of a disturbance that'd prompt a call from Toothpick. Arthur peeled back the polyester blanket and comforter, ran a palm over the sheets. Freshly laundered, smooth and luxurious. Six hundred count that'd feel like silk on his skin. He set the woodgrain clock radio to GCR, just in time for Down Memory Lane, which featured songs from the 1920s to 50s, guaranteed to make every listener swing.

Strolling to the bathroom, he muffled a laugh. This entire adventure felt illicit, as though Y/N was his dirty little secret, a secret he knew inside and out. A sort of reversal of when she'd propositioned him, invited him over with candidly explicit intentions. A race of sensation goosepimpled his flesh, a tickle that shivered his bones. A kind of nervous anticipation akin to what he'd felt backstage during his debut at Pogo's - the difference being that success was guaranteed tonight.

Arthur breathed into his palm to test his breath. A streak of blue paint lingered under his left eye. He wet the corner of a white washcloth and scrubbed it away.

Just then there was a knock at the door.

Light on his heels, he straightened the collar of his V-Neck sweater. Tucked brown waves behind his ear and turned the knob.

There Y/N stood. Lovely, ravishing. Her feathery tresses smelled of fresh cut flowers and orange blossoms, a flustered pink flushed her cheeks. Her glass heart pendant shone. She puffed at a rapid one-two count. She braced herself on the doorframe, right hand on her hip. Her overnight bag dangled from the other. "Good evening, Mr. Fleck."

"Hi," he said, mirroring her stance. "Did your breath run away from you? If we hurry, we can catch it."

She stuck out her lower lip and blew a stray lock from her forehead. "The elevator had a line - tour bus - so I took the stairs." Her step over the threshold forced a foot's retreat. After he took her coat, her arms wound about his ribs. "How was your gig?"

"Good." The small talk felt perfunctory, a box to check on the way to what he wanted. He resolved to go with it, anyway. Truly set the scene. "I made coffee."

A soft sound, a peck right above his collar, and she was off, sashaying to the desk. She poured them both a cup, perched on the corner, crossed her legs. The position lengthened her calves. It was then he noticed she'd traded her winter boots for navy pumps. Given the slipperiness of the sidewalk, it was a miracle she'd arrived in one piece. (That would have been a night to remember: a rendezvous in the ER with a cracked fibula and vending machine M&Ms.) She offered a paper cup, the kind with playing cards printed on them.

He sat in the faux leather executive chair before her. Stirred sugar into coffee, examined the poker hand he'd been dealt. A royal flush. He leaned back, the chair tilting a relaxing thirty degrees. "How'd the trial go?"

"It's over, finally. Defense counsel spent their closing argument trying to impugn our client: a man who lost a leg. But being a recovering alcoholic has nothing to do with improper forklift maintenance. He wasn't drinking on the job. Juries hate cheap tricks, especially when they're full of working people. I'd be surprised if we didn't have a verdict tomorrow."

Arthur smiled along with her. They'd had plenty of ask and answer sessions, and he'd watched enough episodes of Gotham Law and Night Court to have a general understanding of her profession. "So you think the good guys will win?"

"Yes, and it's about time, too. But enough of that now." She angled her legs nearer, shoe dangling above his lap. Gaze flitting about the room, she took a sip. "When did you decide to do this?"

"When we listened to Dr. Sally awhile ago. Do you remember? I wanted to do something special but wasn't sure what."

"I can't believe that. You're wonderful at it."

He gulped his drink, took her foot in his grasp. He slipped off her high heel, rubbed his thumb into her arch in firm, vertical lines. A groan left her throat, her toes spreading wide. "Well," he said. "She helped me figure it out."

"Don't give her too much credit. It was somewhere in that head of yours." Gently, she pressed her foot to his chest, where his pulse thundered under her sole. Her voice dropped to a purr. "Or your romantic heart. I'd say you were inspired. You certainly inspired me."

Fingertips traced to the hem of her stockings. She'd changed into the pair with lace tops. His abdomen tightened. "Yeah?"

The shoe dropped from her other foot. "Yeah."

Suspense burgeoned between them, thickened into a heady haze. Her pupils locked on his, dilated by the low light and a hefty helping of desire. Her toes drew a line down his chest. He watched the descent, every follicle suddenly aware of that sketch.

"Mm." She sighed when she reached the growing bulge in his pants. "You're hard already."

Laughter caught in his nose. "I've been waiting for this all week."

Arthur stood to seize her waist, lift her from the desk. A surprised cry, a shriek of delight. Hot coffee splashed his sweater - the perfect excuse to get it off posthaste. He deposited her on the foot of the bed.

Y/N stretched as she sat. The motion lifted her breasts against her blouse, nipples sticking out like exclamation points, the size of blueberries. That meant her bra was in her bag, that she was naked beneath that thin satin. He yanked his sweater over his head, tossed it to the floor. She unbuttoned his pants, parted the zipper in one smooth motion. The shadow of movement brushed his length, gaped his lips. She tugged his briefs an inch below lean hips and took him out.

His cock rested flat on her palm. She curled her fingers around it. Rather than pumping, she swiped her thumb across the engorged tip, a delicate paintbrush on the canvas of his flesh. The tenderness of the caress seemed at odds with the carnality of the act. He liked it. He grew stiffer, until he was sure all blood had rushed to his lower head.

Smiling, she smooched his V-line, his patch of springy hair. His stomach stuttered at the exquisite fever of her mouth. "This isn't what I expected tonight," she said, and crawled up the mattress on her elbows.

"Well, what did you expect?"

"Oh, I don't know." Her legs splayed, woven polyester bunching at her waist. "A nice, respectable evening at home with you, It Could Be Yours, the paper. Maybe a joke or two."

"Are you disappointed?"

She gave his torso a raking stare. "Never."

He pushed her flat on the bed. Kissed her knuckles, the inside of her wrist, the crook of her elbow. He bent and sucked a nipple through her shirt. Wet the fabric with his tongue and sucked the moisture back out. Insistent tugs at his curls until he sucked again. The plain of her pubic bone tilted upwards and towards him. He slid a palm up her skirt. Unfastening, opening, throwing the cloth in a haphazard arc.

His erection brushed her stocking. His gaze traversed her curves, the faint stretchmarks on her thighs. She'd donned the panties she'd gotten as a bachelorette gift, the ones that tied at the hip. A triangle of black cloth that exposed more than it shielded. He pulled at one of the ribbons, eased the nylon aside. Caressed her open till she was liquid in his hands. Pointer and middle fingers formed a V around her clitoral hood, fluttered in a come hither motion.

A gasp, irregular breaths that were a hallmark of her pleasure. His mouth did not soften as he kissed her. She tore the buttons of her blouse, pressed her tongue to his, nipped at his lip. When the satin pooled at her elbows, her breasts spilled out in a tantalizing jostle. The right was slightly larger, the areola on the left a centimeter lower. Both beautiful and alluring and ready to fill his palms.

One hand dragged from his neck, followed the length of his spine, pushed his pants to his knees to squeeze his rear. Chuckling, he reached to yank them the rest of the way down, but they caught on his ankles. One kick, then one more. Y/N's foot hooked in the waistband and shoved them off.

Once she was nude, once only her panties remained, she loosened the other ribbon. Raising his lips from hers, he met her eyes. 

"I want you to fuck me," she whispered.

A sharp exhale. "You want me to fuck you?" A repetition that meant renewal. To ensure, to savor, to carve into his soul.

Her reply was to grasp his shaft, press the length of it to her vulva. She rutted upward and against it, did so again. Wet and slick and all he ever wanted. He groaned at that damp heat, a compass that always led home.

He sat on his haunches. Ran a palm over her flank. Took hold of her leg and brought it higher, so that the swell of her calf touched his bicep. Poised to enter her, he bent forward.

She pushed at him. "Ow, stop."

"What?"

She lowered her calf, wrapped it around him instead. "Your legs are younger than mine."

"But I wanna be between them forever." He eased just inside her entrance.

"Deeper." A greedy fist at his shoulder. "Go deeper."

So he did. Inch by aching inch. Grunting, he grabbed her breast, squeezed what was likely a bit too hard. No complaint came. Rather, her pelvis rose up into his. Walls gripped him tight, tighter. Hot and sleek. Warmth so feminine, so bracing, the essence of this act.

Propped on his forearms, he studied her. Her head twisted into the pillow, arms sprawled at her sides, fingertips digging into the sheets. A writhe that was nearly a dance. The neon light cascading through the windows spilled over her, cast his shadow onto her form. Sweat stuck her heart pendant to her chest.

At his next thrust, she moaned. A laugh rippled through the air. "Mr Fleck..." A rare second use of that nickname within one hour, a sure sign she was high on him. He wasn't too far behind. Another twist of her hips, as if trying to wring him out. "If you're not careful, I'll want a surprise every week."

His ruts slowed, stopped. He wiped hair from her cheeks, thumbs stroked her temples. "Where next?"

"The shower, your desk. There's always our bed." She turned to kiss his wrist, traced its tendon with the tip of her tongue. "I'm not picky. As long as you're inside me."

A golden wave of affection passed between them (and not a little ardor), a happy hum against her lips. She reached to toy with her clit, her knuckles pressed into his abdomen. She whimpered, tensed, hips rising in a frantic pattern that didn't quite match his. All at once her arms flung about him, clutching, clinging. But she hadn't finished. She'd caressed herself to the peak of the precipice but not over. She wanted them to get her off together.

Arthur drove into her again, pace quickening to an allegro. Nails biting his thigh, she seized around him. Pulsing, pulsing, pulsing. He watched her drift away, expression scrunching and smoothing into bliss. Harsh pants hit his chin, her sharp cries a song in his ear.

He nuzzled her cheek, kissed the curve of her jaw. "I love watching you come." It made him feel powerful, a king who could conquer anything.

Giggles and fluttering lashes, her hands cupping his ass. A flash of light and love in her eyes. She moistened her lips, lifted her mouth and hips to claim him.

Stomach to stomach, chest to chest, heart to racing heart. Thoughts fragmented, his body continuing its hungry hunt for relief. That hunt ended on a clipped moan, a prism of sensation. White-hot pleasure that doubled as surrender, surrender that felt like victory.

He rolled off her, onto his back. Armed sweat from his forehead and worked on slowing his breath. Feet turned out as relaxation oozed through his veins, slackened his limbs.

A kick to his calf, the flick of the bedside lamp, a flood of unwelcome light. He squinted in her direction. She was doubled-over the side of the bed. A smear of his release glistened on her thigh. Her shoulder blades moved as if two conversing waves, rising and falling with each bit of gossip.

"What're you looking for?" he asked.

"You'll see."

Using the nightstand as leverage, she pushed herself to the shore. The covers rustled as she lay on her stomach, mewling and stretching. She took his left hand. A point dragged across his palm, dry but smooth. His fingers twitched under her breath. It reminded him of when he'd tried to cheat his way through remedial English during freshman year, to be foiled by smudged ink.

When she released him, he studied what she'd done. It was an odd squiggle. A loop like a balloon, its string connected to what may have been a Y. He followed its oversized tail to the end, where an upside-down hook resided. He'd seen similarly strange markings at her office, when he'd dropped off lunch or picked up her set of keys.

"What is it?" he said.

"'I love you' in shorthand." She used her eyeliner pencil to explain how three symbols representing vowel sounds and common words connected into one. An analogy for how they'd connected and made one life.

Averting his eyes, he pressed the mark to his chest. "Will you write one in my journal?"

"Of course I will. You pick the page." She patted his belly, lay her cheek on his abdomen. "Does this place have room service? I'm starving. And I've never had room service. Think it'll come on silver platters?"

Arthur recalled Toothpick at the front desk's warning. Paying too much for the basics should've made him cringe, would've any other night. But she deserved a rare splurge. They both did. Even if it cost every cent he'd earned today. And he wanted to keep her undressed, wrapped only in a comforter, for as long as possible.

He tucked her in, then grabbed the phone on the nightstand. "I hear they have BLTs."

~~~~~

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[leefi]

this guy im going to for laser hair removal has the weirdest practice. he invented the laser he uses on his patients. his working hours are from 6 AM-1 PM (im here for my 7:30 AM appt) Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays. if you want to see him at any other time fuck you. for my consultation 2 years ago he sat me on the chair took one look at my face nodded and said to book my first appointment whenever I was ready. Couldn’t afford it at the time till recently, gave his office a call a month ago (again, two years have passed) and he was like “ah yes ayah come in whenever”. he has a very kindly soft spoken old man voice (because he is one) and only speaks to me in Arabic which I understand but can never pick up wtf he is saying over the loud hum of the machine. for my first appointment I was in and out in 8 minutes exactly. he did a trial/spot test on my chin and the hair in the area is completely gone after just one session (it usually takes 6-8). also this is what he gives you to ice the area