#I think he is very good and loving person at heart

[frogchiro]

Thinking about RE2 Leon recently bc he's strangely underrated and I love him sm ;;

He's young and inexperienced but so so eager, the thing is, so we're you, his lovely girlfriend♡ You basically were each other's firsts for everything and, hopefully, each others lasts.

But don't let Leon's inexperience fool you! Under those beautiful blue eyes that look at you like you hung the moon and stars and that sweet puppy love is a very determined young man that wants to do everything to make you happy and satisfied! And what better way to show it than have you folded in your shared bed, balls deep inside you and stuffing you with his 3rd load?♡

Like I said, Leon is VERY determined to make you feel good; he's a passionate lover, always puts your pleasure first and makes sure you're okay. However when he's in a particular mood, especially after he got dumbed down with a leg-shaking orgasm or two, he starts to go on autopilot and act like a dumb, heat driven mutt💔

Leon is usually very vocal in bed, not ashamed to show you how much you pleasure him whenever you're sucking him off, giving him a nice, loving handjob while he suckled your nipples or when he's deep deep inside your cunt, like right now and he doesn't hold back at all.

Answers all your pleasured noises with his own moan, whines and whimpers and he has absolutely no shame! Why would he? His girl, his love, his favorite person in the world is making him go blank from pleasure! And when he feels his swollen, sensitive tip bump your cervix? You both let out loud whines and he cums immediately, tip staying right there at the opening of your precious womb :(

You can whine and kick your legs behind him, actually please whine at him :(( He will answer with his own pathetic noises, looking at you from behind his blonde fringe, those huge, teary blue eyes looking at you with love and adoration that makes you feel like your heart will burst♡

[spideyjimin]

Wait for your love | jjk (teaser)

—  pairing: firefighter!jungkook x female reader 

—  genre: kind of exes to lovers, parents au, angst, fluff, and smut 

— rating: 18+ 

—  summary: sixteen years ago, your life was turned upside down when you surrendered to the temptation — none other than jungkook, the star basketball player on your school’s team. today, after all that time, you reunite under tragic circumstances; a car crash where he saves your life.

—  words: 577

—  author’s note: here you have the teaser of the fic i’m currently working on 🤗 you have a tiny little teaser below & i hope you’ll enjoy it ❤️

—  tag list: let me know in any way if you want to be tagged when i post this and if you are part of my permanent taglist, you will automatically be added ✨

Jungkook and his team got called for a car accident involving several cars, and when they arrived, the scene was horrific.

There are probably five cars pressed and smashed one against the other. There are people injured and bleeding walking around the scene. Paramedics are already taking care of them, but Jungkook is walking to the cars to retrieve the people stuck inside. His captain screams orders and tells him which car he should go to.

His eyes look around, his heart breaking when he sees everyone involved and still stuck in their cars. Visions like this are quite common for him, it doesn’t happen all the time but it’s still recurrent. At the end of the day, his job is to save people in this type of situation.

When he reaches the car, he was assigned to, he takes a look at how many people there are inside. There’s just one person, a woman behind the steering wheel. She has her hand on her head, clearly showing that she might have a headache. She doesn’t really move. Instantly, Jungkook tries to open the door, but it’s showing a bit of resistance.

It feels impossible to open the door, but Jungkook sees the woman’s head falling. He’s getting worrier; she’s slumping into sleep which isn’t a good sign as she was holding her head barely seconds ago. He then proceeds to break the window so he can try to open it from inside. There are other possible ways, but it would be harder and more dangerous to get her out of the vehicle.

“Ma’am,” he says with urge.

Eventually, he manages to open the damn door from the inside. A good part of the car’s front is crashing into her. Before even thinking of taking her out, he places a cervical collar to protect her neck and spine.

“Ma’am,” he repeats. “Can you hear me?”

She doesn’t answer at all. Jungkook gets closer, his fingers brushing the hair from her face, but when he finally gets to properly see the woman’s face, his heart skips a beat. This woman is none other than you. His mind can’t start to get lost in the past right now. He needs to focus on taking you out of the car.   

You’re in pretty bad shape.

There’s blood on your forehead, you most probably have a wound on top of your head. There’s also blood at the level of your stomach, turning your green shirt into a very dark color. He can distinguish a big fragment of glass shoved into your belly. It doesn’t look good. Your legs are also completely smashed by the front, causing the steering wheel to be very close to your body.  Hopefully, your legs aren’t too injured. He doesn’t even want to start thinking about all the bruises on your body.

Slowly, he places one hand behind your back while his other hand slowly pushes your legs. He’s trying to be as careful as possible to avoid causing any other injury.  His strong arms hold you once he manages to fully remove you from the car. His eyes look down at your face with evident pain. He notices how you’re trying to open your eyes which makes him think that you’re trying to fight the urge to fall asleep.

“Yn,” he says while walking to an ambulance. “Please, stay with me,” he whispers with despair. “I’ve finally found you, and I can’t lose you right away.”

[postracehair]

trust me

max verstappen x reader | 2.3k

after an incredible (and wet) weekend in brazil, you have a confession to make.

cw: a loving relationship! discussion of anxiety/fear/worrying about your race car driver bf, healthy communication, and softness galore.

a/n: being a wag must be so stressful. like, damn! also, rain races stress me out, personally. this fic is about that.

__

The triple header comes to an end in the best way possible.

Max Verstappen wins the São Paulo Grand Prix from a 17th-place start! It's the stuff of dreams. The fist around your heart unclenches just a little bit as you watch him smiling, roaring, hoisting his well-earned trophy aloft. It's your best day in a long time, watching your darling boyfriend like that, and you celebrate with everyone late into the night. The Championship battle looms in the background but tonight is about the hard work from the weekend. The stress, the frustration, the damn rain. All of it worth it for the pride you all feel right now.

But what comes after -- that, you can admit, you enjoy even more. Three weeks until Las Vegas and Max and the team have plenty of work to do before then, but for now? For now, it's this: rest.

Everyone gets to go home, finally. And for you, home is wherever Max is. You've spent the first few days of the break thus far at his place. On the floor with the cats, on the couch watching movies. In his bed, sleeping, sometimes, other times... not so much. Hours and hours just being together. You'll have plenty of time for this once the season ends but you can never get enough of him.

You're on the couch, sprawled across the length of it with a book in hand. It's a good one, so much so that you don't notice Max until he taps your ankle and you jump.

"Jesus," you gasp. His lips are pulled up at one corner in the precursor to a full grin, sweatpants slung low enough that you can see the branded band of his underwear between the drawstrings and the hem of his t-shirt. "Where did you come from?"

"Watching race replays," he says with a shrug. "Scooch." You tug your legs back and sit up a little, bookmarking your page as he rounds the couch and plops down where your feet were.

"Max," you whine. "I like to watch those, too. So you can do that thing where you narrate like, every second." You're teasing, but only a little. For all the jokes about "maxplaining," you really do love how he explains things. He tells you what he was thinking at every turn, what the trick is, how long it took him to get it right. He points out his mistakes and those of the other drivers. All of it thoroughly and with enthusiasm, answering your questions like you're the best student he's ever had.

"Yeah, well," he says, sinking into the couch, arm stretched across the cushions towards you. Your eyes rake over the line of his bicep as he talks. "You don't like rain races very much. Wasn't sure you'd want to see it again."

That gets your attention. "How did you know that?" You've never told him outright that they stress you out. It's really important to you that you keep your cool at the track, that you don't do anything to let on that he should worry about you.

But you should know better, it seems.

"I can tell," Max says, looking right at you. "I pay attention."

You hum, not sure what to say. "You've got me there," you confess. "I'm sorry."

"Hey," he tuts. "Why the apology? You can feel however you want to. This weekend was complicated."

He feels too far away. You set your book on the ground and shove your toes under this thigh. He keeps his eyes on your face but you fuss with the hem of your t-shirt rather than look back.

"They're exciting. Rain races, I mean." You sigh. "But I can't help but worry, Max. From the garage, it's so --"

You lose track of your words because Max grabs hold of your legs and tugs them over his thighs as he moves closer to you, almost crowding you against the arm of the couch. He reaches for your collarbone to pick some lint from your shirt, his other arm slung across your calves.

"Were you scared?" he asks. "This weekend, I mean."

Frankly, you avoid telling him things like this because you don't want to distract him. You don't want to detract from his performance in any way and maybe that's selfish, because you know he's very good at what he does and how you feel isn't going to derail his weekend. But you know he loves you, and you know how deeply he feels things. How much he wants to be a good partner, a good driver, a good man. And you try really hard to let him know that he is all of those things.

The reality of your position in his life is that there will always be people who heavily imply that your presence, your actions, your choices could be at fault. It's ludicrous -- Max has said so many times -- but it makes you hype-aware. You don't want to overstep. It's something you know you should articulate to him properly, but you know he'll be upset that you think you can be anything but a good part of his life. It's an endless cycle.

"Hey," he says, mistaking your silence for emotion. "Liefje, I'm fine." He reaches for you, cupping your cheek with a warm hand. You look up at him and find him frowning.

"I know," you say, leaning into his palm. "I know you are. I just -- I don't want it to sound like I'm a whining baby or something."

"Whining baby?" Max gently rubs the skin under your eye with his thumb. "Psh. We've got some of those on track. You couldn't come close to them if you tried."

That gets a laugh out of you and he cracks a smile at the small victory.

You sigh. "I was scared," you admit, voice soft. Max presses a little closer to you, his hand falling from your face to catch yours, fingers twining together.

"Are you always scared?" he asks. "You're more tense on rain weekends, I can tell that much. But you've never really talked about this. I guess I--" He frowns again. "I've never really asked you."

"That's okay," you say. "It's nothing, really."

Blue eyes bore into yours. "No, I want to know," he presses. "Please, tell me?"

You tip your head back a little, eyes on the ceiling. How to say it?

"I guess I'm always a little scared, yeah," you say. "I don't know how I wouldn't be."

He tugs on your hand so you'll look at him. "What is it, do you think?" The question comes out in his typical way. This must be how he is in driver briefings, you think fleetingly. Max is analytical, methodical, always looking for the root of the problem so he can understand it and adapt.

But how do you explain this?

"Well, it's a dangerous sport," you explain. "As you know. And I -- Max, I love you, and I don't want anything bad to happen to you."

The furrow of his brow lessens a bit and he presses a light kiss to the back of your hand. Your stomach flutters, even after all this time.

But Max has no time for your mooning, apparently. "Were you scared before we knew each other?" he asks.

You think about it. "It's different, I guess. I was worried, generally. For all of you. I'm still worried for all of you, but --"

His eyebrow quirks and he fails to hide a cheeky smile. "Me the most?"

You roll your eyes and squeeze his hand. "You the most. But don't tell Carlos that."

Max tuts. "So, now it's just worse? You feel it more?"

Nodding, you try to explain. "I don't even like watching on TV, now, because I'm so far away. I feel so helpless."

You can't make it to every race but you try your hardest, not only to support Max but for your own sanity. It's easier to calm yourself down when you're around other people who believe in him, when you have access to all the details and when he's only a few steps away when he's out of the car.

"I don't want you to be worried," he says, softly. "You don't let on that you are when we say goodbye before the race, aside from being a little tense."

One of your favorite pieces of race weekends -- those few moments when all of his attention is on you. He makes sure you have everything you need and leaves you with a kiss and a smile and a see you later. His confidence and his competence are like balms.

"When I'm looking at you, I'm not as stressed," you say, a bit shy. "You're very good at your job, you know. And your confidence is convincing."

"I know," he says, seriously. "That's why I know it'll be fine. Do you not know that?"

If he was less determined, you'd ask him to drop it, since you're starting to feel embarrassed. But you know he won't let it lie.

"I know it, too, Max." You reach for his face to push back some fringe from his forehead. "I'll always be worried about you, though. You get in the car and drive away and I just -- sit there. And wait for you to come back."

He frowns, deeper this time. You keep your hand on him, cupping his jaw and running your thumb along his stubble.

"And I love it. You know I was a fan before I met you and it's a dream to be there to watch you race. I love seeing you do crazy things like win from p17. It's so much fun."

He knows this about you. You've got a bit of a reputation for your facial expressions in the Red Bull garage, always the first on your feet when he overtakes, jumping up and down when he extends his lead. It's an infectious kind of joy and energy and you lean into it every time, even if your stomach is churning with anxiety.

Max is quiet for a few moments. He covers your hand with his and leans into it further.

"You trust me, right?"

"Of course," you say right away. "Always."

"I've never really thought about it," he says, slowly. "I mean, in the car. I don't worry about you because I'm not worried, so I just thought you knew not to be, too."

"I'll always worry, Max. Even though I trust you."

"Why didn't you tell me this before?"

Your cheeks heat and you look away from him, pulling your hand free to cradle it in your lap.

"You've got a million other things to worry about besides me," you say. "I don't want to distract you."

Max says your name with a scoff, literally waving his hand as if swatting away your silly notions. "Distract me? Come on," he says. "I wouldn't be a three-time world champion if I could get so easily distracted." He leans into your space, nosing at your jaw. "Even if you are very distracting."

You allow the attention for a few moments before pushing him back with a laugh. His cheeks are flushed, hair a bit of a mess, like after he takes off his helmet. And, god, he looks relaxed. You're so proud of him you can hardly stand it. The season is almost over and you know he's got a lot of work ahead of him, and you've got a lot of worrying. But he's motivated, and you know he can win. You know he'll come back to you.

Max leans his head back on the couch and casts his gaze sideways at you, nose scrunched. "I can't fix this, can I? You're still going to worry."

He sounds so resigned, so disappointed in himself that you tug on his hand so he'll get closer. This time, you frame his face with your hands and kiss him, just a light press of your lips to his. Both of you sigh into it, and you drag your mouth along his cheek until you reach his ear.

"I'm still going to worry," you whisper. "But I love you and I trust you. And I know it'll be okay."

Max sighs and presses his forehead to your shoulder, practically pulling you into his lap so he can wrap his arms around you.

"You better hope it doesn't rain for the rest of the season," he mumbles.

"That damn VSC," you groan, pulling back from him a bit. "I was going to tear my hair out!"

Max laughs. "It kept things interesting," he says lightly. "Rain isn't really a problem for me, schatje, you know this --"

"Because you're Dutch, I know, Max." You roll your eyes. "Even Fernando couldn't keep it together! I mean, the gasps from the garage when --"

The seriousness of your conversation fades as you trade tidbits about the race -- you've done this already, hashed it out in the hotel room and the flight home and in bed since Sunday. Max watches you talk, elbow braced on the couch and his head resting in his hand. His eyes sparkle and you know you're amusing him as he corrects you on the turn names and who went in the wall when. Max loves you: you've never doubted this. He loves you and he cares about how you feel and doesn't want you to be worried.

And while you will be, because you love him, you know that it'll be alright.

"Hey," Max says, interrupting your opinions about start procedures. "I love you, okay? Thank you for worrying about me."

"Graag gedaan," you say. Well, you try to say. Max laughs and corrects your pronunciation. You're welcome, he says, over and over, a kiss to your cheeks, your nose, your forehead each time. Ik houd van je. Your lips, your neck, your jaw.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

[greenpurplemylove]

What Lovers Do (PJS)♥️

→ masterlist.

→ pairings: non idol! situationship! jay x female! reader.

synopsis: There was only one thing left to do when two friends finally confess that they like each other after all the endless chasing about and beating around the bush. Though it wasn't like how it traditionally went, like on a bed or in a fancy hotel room. You and Jay knew it would be wasteful to go back to yours or his apartment, not when the view of the beach at 02:00 AM in the morning hits different.

→ genre: friends to lovers! smut, and fluff. -> now playing: Diet Pepsi, Addison Rae/Forrest Gump, Frank Ocean.

-> wc: 5,8k

warnings: SMUT, swearing, car sex, car sex by the beach, dom! jay x sub! slightly switch! reader, slight cockwarming, riding, unprotected sex (wrapeth t bef're thee tapeth t), creampie, fingering, mutual masturbation, mentions of skinny dipping and pet names (baby, pretty girl, darling).

-> A/N: after a season of midterms, a breakup and a series of procrastinations later, I've finally completed the last chapter. good news is y'all don't rly have to read part 1 dan part 2 (but if you want to, I'd say be my guest honestly) to understand what's going on in this story cause this is like smut with very little plot. this is my first smut ever so anyways I'm rly sorry if it isn't perfect, nonetheless I do hope y'all enjoy it though. much love, Cher🫶

♥️

Seeing two people being in denial that they’re actually obsessed with each other is frustrating.

Especially if those two people are practically close friends.

Take you and your friend, Park Jongseong, for example.

You’ve been friends with Park Jongseong since freshman year of college.

Maybe it was due to the fact that your friend groups were practically mushed together and that you’d more often than not end up in the same class he was taking.

With what originally started with strictly exchanging the notes you took during class, slowly melted away into long and deep texts, conversations, even playful arguments about each others pasts and interests.

But what he didn’t know was that you’ve always secretly admired him.

At first you didn’t want to think the admiration you had for him was romantic, but overtime it grew difficult for you to maintain a merely platonic admiration.

He was a nice guy you have to admit, and the fact that he was practically gorgeous made things all the more difficult for you in maintaining that so called ‘platonic’ gaze.

And it didn’t help with the fact that he was such a gentleman to you as well.

Always opened doors for you.

Paying extra attention towards you whenever you needed his help.

And always letting you order first whenever you needed to go somewhere for lunch in between classes.

Even offering to pay for your meals.

It was difficult. Very difficult, for you to not fall for him.

You find yourself looking at him from afar with rose tinted glasses, your day got a little brighter every time the two of you exchanged glances and smiles,

your heart would skip a beat every time his name was mentioned in any given situation,

and most importantly, you wanted to be near him all the time.

Naturally, you grew closer to him.

Overtime it felt strange, how you noticed his smile seemed to linger longer whenever he was looking in to you so deeply,

or how close your bodies were whenever you’d talk to him for an extended period of time.

The questions started to beckon in your head, was this his way of flirting with you?

And to answer that question. Yes, yes it was.

The reason being none other than because he has a crush on you. But being the outwardly cold person that he is, he didn’t wanted to admit that.

Cause there’s a small part of him that was a little scared you wouldn’t feel the same way he did.

He’d look at you from afar and a small smile would creep onto his face.

He would think about how pretty you looked on that day before he fell asleep at night.

And you’d be the first person that comes to his mind the moment he opens his eyes the next morning.

He would pay extra attention to the things you liked and didn’t like. Memorizing your favorite lunch order. Always saving a seat for you next to him.

Always saving an extra gum in his bag because he knows you’d sometimes forget to bring yours to class,

and that he knows you have this bad habit of chewing the cap of your pen in the middle of class whenever you forgot to bring in your gum.

Mind you he also initially wanted to keep things platonic in fear of ruining the bond you’ve pretty much grown into overtime, but it was hard to keep those feelings at bay when you’re always so close to him.

After a while of teasing, lingering smiles, and small flirtatious gestures. You both were still in denial if wether or not the feeling was mutual.

It wasn’t until one drunk night at Sunghoon’s house, where you basically made out and almost had sex with him on Sunghoon’s upstairs couch that made you realize that you both felt the same way about each other.

Well, knowing he didn’t push you away when you were practically sitting on his lap and guiding his hand up your shirt and all.

After that night you both knew you couldn’t just pretend that it never happened,

so, stupidly enough, the two of you kept on teasing each other for a little while.

Hinting bits and pieces of your private lives, purposefully making the other jealous in hopes that the other would confess first because the both of you were stubborn as hell about your feelings.

When the both of you know fully well, you would be down to fuck from dusk to dawn.

It felt like playing a chess game with Jay during those times.

A romantic, for the most parts sexual tension filled game of chess with Jay.

And yet all the games, all the strategies, plans and moves you had all up in your head with Jay has led you here.

Half naked on his lap in his car by the beach at 2 AM, with his lips messily clinging to yours.

Both of your cheeks flushed. Breaths heavy as the windows started to fog. With his hands fondling with your bare breasts.

Your arms clinging onto his shoulders for dear life as your both tongue deep into the kiss.

You both knew at one point it’ll all lead up to this.

But that never stopped either one of you from pushing the boundaries of your ‘friendship’ more and more.

From the longing stares and touches across the hallways to the private moments that had you on the edge of your seat.

All of those moments has led you here, with your body sensually placed on top of his.

“Jay.” you moaned his name softly when you felt his thumb swiping against your hardened nipples as he trailed kisses from your jaw before nipping the back of your ear.

He felt his pants getting tighter by the minute, his dick growing hard at the sound of you moaning his name.

His hands traveled lower and lower down your pants as his palms settled on your ass making you gasp silently, while his mouth travelled down to your neck.

Kissing and sucking on it feverishly as if he was pouring all of his pent up desire to you after all this time.

“So pretty for me y/n.” he whispered against your neck, leaving a light trail of hickeys down your neck as your fingers caressed the back of his hair before trailing to the hem of his shirt.

Sneakily putting your fingers below the hem just to feel his bare skin against the palm of your hand.

You could feel his lips curl into a smirk against your neck as he pulled away, a playful smirk plastered onto his face as he sat up straight.

His hands trailed down to the bottom hem of his shirt but not before your hands replaced what was supposed to be his.

He looked at you surprised by your boldness as you took of his shirt, the muscles on his chest and arms contorting as you did,

feeling the tent that was forming in your panties grow wetter as you discarded his shirt to the side.

The sound of the ocean behind you long blurred into the background as he smiled up at you, caressing your thighs as he watched your every move.

Leaning back onto the chair behind him, your fingers caressed the abdomen of his chest,

feeling his chest rising and falling as his honey like skin emitted an inviting glow under the moonlight.

Your finger trailed lower and lower, from his toned stomach to the buckle of his belt,

lacing your fingers on to it.

You wanted to remove his belt from his pants, that was until his hand held yours, stopping you from going any further.

“I think I can handle that y/n.” he spoke in a sultry tone as he eyed your fingers, caressing them gently before undoing his belt.

Your hands then trailed slowly from the fabric under his belt, to the fabric that covered his prominent bulge.

Purposefully teasing him as you traced your fingers around his bulge.

His breath hitched in his throat as he leaned his head back and sighed, feeling your fingertips undressing his pants.

“I thought couples help take their partners clothes off when they’re gonna have sex?” you murmured as you flashed him a smirk.

“Oh, so we’re a couple now?” he teased, grinning at you flirtatiously.

You sighed in disbelief as you rolled your eyes.

You knew he was the type of person who’d tease from time to time, but you never thought he’d tease you at a time where you were completely vulnerable to him.

“Are you really gonna tease me at a time like this?” you whispered as your lips curl into a small sly smile while your fingers caressed his hair.

He smiled at you before he sat up straight, cupping your cheeks as he captured your lips in his.

Passion surging over you as your hands wrapped around his neck, taking his lips in deeper.

His hands soon trailed down from your body to your hips, giving it a firm squeeze before trailing his fingers to the button of your pants,

unbuttoning it and gently, stripping it off of your body as your purple lacy underwear came into view.

Pulling away from your lips, his eyes soon caught the attention of your undergarments,

pupils dilating as his fingers traced the hem of it, groaning as his eyes rolled back as your hips came down to grind on his clothed cock.

Purple. His favorite color.

Whether you intentionally wore it for him or out of pure coincidence, it made him incredibly harder than he already was before.

So hard that his pants felt uncomfortable against his now fully hardened cock.

But he knew better than to rush this moment like a casual hook up.

This was his crush. The women he’d fawn over since freshman year.

His close friend. Y/N.

He knew what you like and what you didn’t like from the back of his head,

from all the times you’ve told him stories about your casual hook ups every now and then.

He’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t go home most nights feeling jealous of how other guys could touch you so undeservingly,

at other nights he spent dreaming of how much he could fuck you better than any other guy,

and at some nights the jealousy and all the pent up feelings he had for you brewed to such intensity that he had no other option than to fist his cock in the shower,

thinking about fucking you all to himself.

And here you finally were, on top of him; your hands gripping onto his shoulders, your cheeks flushed as you turned away rather shyly,

your bare breasts all in display for him and your soaked pussy just inches away from his clothed cock.

All for himself.

It was like a wet dream come true to him.

Lust dipped into his pupils as he caressed the band of your panties,

staring in awe at the lacy fabric at hand before setting the band aside, revealing your already drenched cunt.

He groaned at the sight of it. Wanting nothing more than to stuff your pussy full of his cock.

Feeling his dick twitch uncomfortably in his slacks, he lifted his hips as he stripped down his trousers,

feeling himself grow impatient at the sight of your slick glisten, barely an inch from his thighs.

Leaving his pants bare on the floor of his backseat before dipping his fingers in between your drenched folds.

You sighed and bit your lip as a response. Turning away rather shyly.

His fingers soon laced on to your chin, forcing you to look at him.

It felt like time had slowed as he looked at you, his mouth opened, his lips puffy, and his gaze intense as he eyed you lustfully.

He had wanted, yearned for you even for so long, and now you were finally his.

There was nothing more he could’ve asked for in this moment.

He eyed your expression as he continued rubbing your folds, eyes closed and lips swollen from all the kissing and bitting,

he gradually slid his middle finger in back and forth, but not enough to satisfy how much you wanted him to touch you.

“Jay, please,” you exhaled as you eyed the motion of his fingers, holding onto the back of the front seat for support.

He caressed you so sensually, feeling the pleasure surging at the pit of your stomach,

it drove you almost insane on top of him. “don’t tease me.”

“I won’t baby.” he cooed as his other fingers moved from your chin to your hips,

his thumb rubbing circles on your clit as your mouth opened in pleasure.

The new nickname felt foreign to your ears, but nonetheless it made your pussy throb just for him.

“Jay,” you moaned lowly, gripping onto his arm.

Dipping his finger into you, you rolled your eyes back and bit your bottom lip, gently tugging on his hair,

feeling yourself melting into his touch as your hips thrusted slowly, almost in sync with the movement of his fingers.

He sighed, leaning his head back against the seat as his eyes rolled to the back of his head, feeling his cock twitch at the sight.

His fingers went in and out deep inside you, curling at you in all the right spots as the band of your panties grew wet from your slick cascading down his fingers.

Your face flushed, hips circling his fingers like a pretty doll as he looked at how drenched his finger were from slipping in and out of your walls.

He smirked up at you, enjoy seeing his effect on you.

It made him feel in control and powerful, subtly feeding his ego,

taking pride in how easy it was to have you squirming around his fingers.

Lifting his back towards you, pressing your lips onto his into a clingy hot mess of a kiss.

Slipping another finger inside of you, you moaned into the kiss as he used it as an opportunity to slip his tongue inside of your mouth, never giving you a moments rest.

Feeling your hardened nipples softly grazing against his collarbones, he groaned into the kiss adding to the sensation as your hips moved clockwise against his thumb on your clit.

Kissing you oh so passionately, you tugged on his hair before pulling away from your lips, a string of saliva connecting your tongues.

You were rilled up, your soft messy thrust turned precise and angled, almost as if you were waiting for the right moment to return the favor.

And you did so, as you laced your fingers onto the band of his boxers before beckoning him to lift his hips.

He raised an eyebrow at you as the tips of his lips curled, eyeing you curiously as he removed his fingers from your throbbing cunt making you whine silently,

missing the feeling of his fingers around you already as he gripped your waist.

Lifting his hips, he lets you slip your fingers onto the band of his boxers before pulling them down,

just enough to let his hardened cock sprung free from constraint.

Your eyes trailed from tip to the base of his cock, eyes dazed and mouth dry.

The mushroom tip of his dick flushed. A single thick vein trickled down from the bridge to the base of his cock.

He was definitely big.

Not the biggest you’ve ever seen, but he was definitely big enough to have your stomach doing backflips.

All the excitement and nervous tension trickled down onto your cunt, feeling the throbbing sensation swell as you held your breath in for a moment.

Licking your lips at the sight of it, you continued to strip down his pants until they were well past his ankles as he threw them off to the side.

“Like what you see?” he smirked up at you as he firmly held your waist.

“Don’t get cocky Jongseong.” you teased back, a smile creeped onto your face as you leaned closer to him before capturing your lips onto his.

He gripped your hair gently as he leaned your head to the side, deepening the kiss.

Your hands were all over his body, caressing his toned chest and washboard abs as your fingers trailed lower and lower while he sneaks his tongue back into your mouth,

letting out a groan as your thumb caressed dangerously close to the base of his cock.

The kiss soon grew rough and passionate as your tongues intertwined, his shaft grazing against your clit,

pulsating into a frenzy as his hands groped your ass, kneading them roughly all the while his nails were digging into your skin, making your breath hitch at your throat.

“Y/n.” he moaned out as he pulled away from you, feeling the pleasure coursing through out his body.

Rolling his eyes and throwing his head back onto the seat as he watched you, grinding your soaked folds onto his length.

His tip grew red as precum started to leak from his shaft.

“Shit.” he cursed lowly to himself as he eyed the sight in front of him hungrily.

The view in front of him was better than any wet dream he’s ever had of you.

Your fingers pressed against his cock as you grinded your folds against his dick.

Your slick wetting the bridge of his cock as you grind on him up and down, your other hand gripping onto his thigh for dear life as you balanced yourself on top of him.

You were insatiable.

He knew sex wasn’t a new thing for you, but never in his wildest dreams he’d see you like this with his own eyes.

A flushed mess, eyes closed, your bottom lip tucked as you held back your moans while you grind your folds against his cock,

holding yourself back from sinking fully onto his dick when he knows you so desperately want to.

So sweet yet so sinful, your moans and movements were a lingering sugar like addiction to him as he watches you slowly lose yourself on his cock.

And he hasn’t even put his dick inside you yet.

“Tell me what you want.” he whispered as his nails dug into your waist, hands moving in sync with the movement of your hips, guiding it gently as you swayed your hips in a rhythmic pace against his cock.

Your vision grew hazy as you looked at him, blinking once as your eyes were instantly set on his,

his gaze spilling with lust and desire as he looked at you through his hooded eyelids, face flushed,

his lips pink and plump as they formed an ‘o’ shape, exhaling breathlessly as he eyed you so intensely.

His fingers soon replaced yours, holding back his length against your pussy,

watching you soak the bridge of his cock with your throbbing cunt.

You couldn’t take the teasing you inflicted on him anymore, you wanted him inside of you.

You wanted, needed to feel his dick pulsating inside of you.

You needed him.

“Jongseong, please, I wanna ride your dick.” you whined breathlessly as you continued to grind on him, knowing you still wanted to be good for him despite your desperation.

He cursed at himself, your words stripped him bare into utter desire as his fingers laced on to the band of your panties,

stripping them off your body before shoving them to the side as every patience he had in his body melted away into only anticipation, lust and desire.

“Ride me then y/n,” he spoke in a sultry tone as he looked at you through his half lidded eyes, while his hand grasped onto the base of his shaft,

angling his tip onto your entrance, “I’m all yours.”

Goosebumps erupt in your skin as he spoke those words, electrifying the feeling in your stomach as you positioned his tip at your entrance,

lifting your hips, you planted your forehead against his as you slowly started sinking down onto his cock.

Your eyes screwed shut and your mouth hung loose at the sensation as he did the same.

It was right then and there you realized that you’ve underestimated how big he was from the outside as his cock filled you to the brim of your walls.

Stretching you out oh so heavenly as he caressed the sides of your body as an attempt to sooth you while you adjusted yourself to his length.

“Shit.” you cursed as your eyes rolled back and nails dug onto his back.

“Holy fuck, you’re taking me so good y/n.” he spoke as his hands trailed down onto your waist, eyes rolling back and mouth opened the moment you started circling your hips around his dick.

Heavy breaths and strings of moans fogged the windows as you started to slowly bounce on his cock.

His dick filling you up to the brim every time you sank down fully onto him.

The way he was stretching you out felt so heavenly, you wanted more of it. You wanted more of him.

“Shit you’re big.” you whispered in between your moans as you buried your face on the crook of his neck.

The complement fueled his ego as he smirked with pride before being cut short as he groaned, feeling you starting to clamp down on his dick.

The hands that was once your waist, trailed down onto your ass as he gripped them gently making you let out a loud moan,

as his hands started to match with the rhythm of your hips.

His cock twitched at the feeling of your drenched velvety walls soaking his dick. Feeling your slick dripping down his balls.

“Holy shit Jay fuck.” you leaned your head back as your eyes rolled back,

His head dipped down at the sight of your pussy sinking down onto his dick as you lifted your hips,

revealing the sight of his drenched cock before taking him in you again rather eagerly.

“Shit, you feel so fucking good.” he groaned as he fondled with your ass making you moan his name as you continued taking in his dick like it was your last.

Where have you been all his life?

How could he have been stupid enough to not confess his feelings sooner?

A little part of him can only swirl in regret as he watches you bounce on his cock. Flushed. Dazed. And fueled with lust.

Wishing he could’ve pursued you sooner, knowing how good your slick walls felt wrapped around his dick.

“Look at me.” he whispered as you wince onto his shoulders from the overwhelming feeling of his dick stretching your walls,

picking up your pace as you moaned his name making him sigh as he relished himself on the overwhelming pleasure.

He cursed to himself before gently cupping his hand onto your cheek, forcing you to look at him.

“Look at me y/n.” he whispered a little louder as you looked at his hooded eyes.

Holy fuck he’s never looked so hot.

The strands of his hair laced with sweat as his eyes pierced through them like a knife through a curtain, looking into you like you were his favorite pornstar.

His mouth forming an ‘o’ shape as groans, murmurs and profanities slipped pass his lips as you were bouncing on his dick like there was no tomorrow.

He leaned his head back against the seat, bitting his lips as he feels your slick dripping down his balls.

The occasional ‘fuck’s and ‘holy shit’s slipped pass your lips as you rolled your eyes back, head leaned back while your palms were pressed against his toned chest.

The feeling of his length filling you in and out hits you like a tidal wave as you feel the knot in your stomach tighten.

His hands moved to caress the sides of your body, eyeing you lustfully. “So pretty for me,”

“so fucking pretty for me.” he groaned as he fondled your breasts making you moan his name rather loudly at the already overwhelming pleasure.

Your walls clenched around him as your thrusts started to fall out of rhythm, turning sloppier by the second as your sigh and moans grew heavier.

“Tired y/n?” he asked as he cupped your cheek, receiving a weak nod from you as you bit your lip.

“That’s alright baby, I’ll take it from here.” he spoke softly as his fingers trailed to your hips, guiding you to spread your legs a little wider across the seat as you leaned forward,

feeling your chest pressed against his and his lips lingering over your ear, he started kissing and sucking on your neck,

making you close your eyes in pleasure as you succumb to the feeling of his tongue lapping against your neck.

A string of moans and profanities lingered from your lips as you felt him thrusting upwards into your pussy in a slow rhythmic pace.

You feel the air around you grew impossibly thicker as you breathed heavily.

His name slipped from your lips like a mantra, feeling his cock graze near your spot as he place open-mouth kisses against your collarbone and your fingers gripped onto his shoulders for dear life as the sound of the ocean waves creeped onto the back of your ear.

You let out a loud moan as you felt his thrusts grazed onto your spot, your hand that was on his shoulder slitted upwards onto his scalp, tugging on his hair gently as he moaned your name.

“Fuck, Jay, right there.” you moaned quietly into his ear as a small smirk creeped onto his face.

“Right there huh?” he spoke lowly in a playful, almost teasing tone. Gripping onto your hips so tightly as he thrusted onto your spot repeatedly making you cling onto his shoulder,

whimpers and loud moans of his name being the only thing leaving your lips as you no longer cared about the world outside of his car.

Though it was unlikely at this hour, if someone were to catch a glimpse of his car, they would’ve caught on to what was going on inside pretty quickly.

The car was shaking, it was almost in the middle of nowhere and the windows were fogged from the inside shut, covering the both of you from sight.

Though the both of you didn’t seem to care anyways. Too lost in each others presence to care about the world moving along outside of your own.

You nodded as you bit your lip, earning a groan from him as he leaned his head back onto the seat, fondling your ass as profanities slipped pass your lips.

“Shit, Jay!” you cursed as his thrusts grew rougher, hitting your spot over and over again, feeling the knot in your stomach grew impossibly tighter as he fucked you harder.

“Fuck y/n, you feel so good.” he moaned, feeling his grip on your hips tighten as you were certain that there would be bruises afterwards.

“Fuck, Jay.” you repeated his name as your nails tugged onto the blades of his shoulders. Feeling yourself growing closer to your high.

His sharp gaze pierced through the strands of his hair as his mouth hung opened and his eyebrows furrowed, completely lost in the feeling of chasing his own high.

“Tell me what you want.” he groaned lowly as his lips ghosted over your ear. The tone of his voice grew desperate and needy, almost whiny as he felt himself inching closer to his orgasm.

His words were only met with your moans and whines as he felt himself left unsatisfied.

You gasped as you felt his hand suddenly coming down onto your ass rather harshly, feeling your slick drip further down the base of his cock as a result.

“I said, tell me.” he reprimanded as his hand came down onto your ass again, but this time in between his sentences.

You feel yourself becoming flustered at his words, almost too shy to answer his lewd request.

It wasn’t until you felt his dick completely leaving your cunt that made you widen your eyes.

Whining at the loss of your orgasm.

All of a sudden, his lips latched onto your neck as he started sucking and bitting rather harshly making you let out a whine.

“Jay, don’t-” you whined as you tried to position his cock at your entrance, until his hands gripped your hips, completely halting you from reaching your high.

“I’m not letting you,” he whispered in your ear as he licked a stripe up your neck making you let out a moan. “if you don’t tell me what you want.”

At this point you were desperate. Almost too desperate to reach your high. You were willing to do whatever he wanted, just so that you can cum on his dick.

“Shit, I want you Jay.” you whispered as you caressed his toned abs, resulting in him letting out a groan.

You let out a whine as you felt his thumb caressing your slit, fueling the knot in your stomach that was bound to snap at any given moment.

“Please, wanna cum on your dick.” you practically begged, succumbing yourself to his touch.

A smirk plastered on his face as he looked up at you from your neck before positioning his cock at your entrance.

A moan left your lips as you felt his hands guiding your hips to bounce on his cock.

“Tell me again y/n, what do you want?” he asked as you moaned out his name, feeling his cock thrusting into you deeper as he synced his thrusts with your bounces.

Circling your clit faster, hitting your spot rougher and deeper, that you can only moan out in pleasure and desperation.

“Wanna cum, fuck, wanna cum on your dick Jay, please.” you whined as your high came closer and closer with each given thrust and bounce of your hips.

You yelped as his thrust grew faster, animalistic almost. His eyebrows knitted in concentration as his mouth hung opened and his eyes closed shut,

too focused on getting you to cum, too focused on the feeling of how good your pussy was clenching around his dick.

“Shit Jay, gonna cum, wanna cum on your dick.” so close, you felt so close to reaching your high as the knot in your stomach was bound to snap at any moment.

“Cum for me, cum for me y/n.” his words were your undoing. Your mouth hung opened as you feel your orgasm hitting you like a tidal wave of pleasure.

Your head leaned back as you moaned out his name, back arching at the intensity of the feeling as your bounces grew sloppier and sloppier.

He sighed as he pulled himself out of you before pumping his dick in front of you, trying to reach his own orgasm.

You didn’t know what came over you as you’re hand swiped across the foggy glass before pinning both of his arms behind his head,

leaving him to look at you speechless as one of your hands trailed down onto his cock and you positioned him on top of your entrance.

”Fuck y/n, what are you doing?” he asked as he looked at you bewildered, you bend down onto his ear as you whispered to him sensually.

“Want you to cum inside me.” he can only moan at your words as his chest breathed heavily. He smiled tiredly as he looked at you.

This was definitely better than any wet dream he’s ever had of you.

"Shit y/n are you sure?" he asked as he raised his eyebrows at you, his eyes widening, second guessing your actions.

"I don't want you to feel like I'm forcing you to do any-" his words were then cut off by your lips as you closed the distance between your lips and his in abandon.

"I want you to." you spoke as you pulled away, smiling softly at him making him sigh, a grin plastered on to his face.

“Go on then, don't let me stop you any longer.” he spoke softly as he moaned, eyes rolling back as he feels you sinking down onto him once more.

Your hand was still pinning his hands down as you started bouncing on his dick faster as he relished on the feeling of your pussy clenching on his dick.

“Oh fuck y/n I’m gonna cum.” he moaned out as his eyebrows furrowed. “Fuck wanna paint your fucking insides so fucking bad.”

You felt so fucking incredible around him. Clenching around him in all the right places with his dick buried into your hilt.

His eyebrows knitted at the sensation. Already so close to his edge.

The feeling of you alone could make him cum.

“Cum in me then, give it to me.” The way you were already pinning him down and the way you were riding him so good was enough to make him oh so close to reaching his high,

but your words sent him over the edge as his back arched and his thrusts met your bounces.

You moaned his name rather loudly as you felt his cum filing up your pussy.

A string of curses and moans followed as you both rode out his high.

The thrusts that were once harsh and rough, soon turned sloppy as you felt his cum painting your walls.

“Shit.” you cursed as you breathed heavily, finally spent.

You settled on his lap for a moment before slipping yourself out of him, his arms guiding you to lay on top of him comfortably.

Your heavy breathes mingled with each other as he snook a glance at your cunt. You sighed as he guided you to lean back, exposing your pussy to him.

“Fuck.” he cursed as he saw a bit of his cum oozing out of you.

Using his thumb he pushed back the cum back into you, a small sigh left your lips as he did so.

“Wouldn’t want that to go to waste.” he spoke as he smiled at you. You smiled back at him as the both of you started to chuckle at your disheveled states.

“You look handsome.” you spoke as you pushed some of the strands of hair on his forehead, before cupping his cheeks as he chuckled,

the blush on his face prominent as ever post-sex.

“You look beautiful y/n.” he smiled as he hugged your waist earning a giggle from you, before taking your lips in his as the kiss soon melted into passion.

[alchemistc]

911 was always in my periphery bc of how popular Buck x Eddie is on Tumblr and Ao3. I didn't really want to watch a cable network procedural drama, especially one that came off as so unserious. I could also see how such invested shipping by a lot of fans who are young and think it’s ok to demand things from the cast and crew would inevitably become a toxic cesspool. I stand by that assessment of the show based on the behavior of the fandom these last months, as well as the overall quality of the writing and how often good story lines just get dropped or undermined.

However, I heard about Buck coming out. Over the summer, I was going through a lot and feeling aimless, so I finally started watching the show. And I liked Buck and Tommy, but what I really loved was the quality of the fan works they inspired. At the end of the day, I never really had real expectations of high quality television from a show like 911; that’s not what it’s for.

Despite this, what really affected me last night—which was also the first episode I bothered watching live ever because of how terrible this last week has been—wasn’t even how badly it was executed or the fact that they broke up. But how unnecessarily and viciously cruel the whole thing felt?

What was the point of showing Tommy as a caring, supportive, present partner in the previous episode if it was going to lead to an unceremonious break up? What was the point of showing his yearning for connection and family only to see him throw it all away? Why have him say such wonderful things about Buck moments before questioning the commitment of their relationship after six months together? What was the point of Buck getting that speech from Josh and bringing up marriage and moving in together and that Tommy had been a transformative relationship when it was going to end with him being dumped? It just felt so horribly cruel to see a character bare his tender heart and see it get stomped on. He looked so sad at the end.

Up till the very end of the episode, I was actually really enjoying it. Their acting was so good from heart eyes to heartbreak, and the show seemed to understand Tommy’s reaction to Buck getting hit on by those women would cause friction. It even made sense to me that Tommy would recoil at the prospect of moving in together because Buck clearly hasn’t come to terms with being queer yet (sir, you haven’t researched the Kinsey scale? You?) And Tommy is also clearly afraid to reach for the connections he wants and the seeming inevitability of his heart being broken and is masking that with nonsense about Buck needing to play the field and the biphobia present wherein. It was such an interesting depth to his character! I thought the break up speech was so well-acted, and I was so ready for the conversation they were going to have that would address it and let them move on together stronger. To see Buck learn from Josh and see the scars Tommy was unintentionally revealing in that moment and address them.

And then the credits started rolling and I felt like I got punched in the gut.

It was definitely the straw that broke the camel’s back for me, with the election and other personal stuff really stressing me out this week. Last night, I felt sick and unable to sleep, and I spent the morning bawling my eyes out. It feels like one of the few things I really looked forward to had been snatched away for the shock factor. I believe the interviews are the definite death knell, but even if you don’t follow the interviews, it was just a cruel way to end the episode. Even if this ends up being a temporary roadblock or they “fix” it, it’ll always leave a bad taste in my mouth.

Anyway, I’m upset that I let a show I always knew wasn’t very good affect me this much, and I regret spending months of my life on it. But the reason I wanted to send this ask was because my real hyperfixation these last few months was never the show itself; it was always the Bucktommy fandom. Reading some of the most beautiful fanfiction, including yours, these deep and intense character studies or au’s or future fics that show more love to these characters than the show does. The stunning art, the lovingly rendered gifs, the startlingly funny and insightful writing. The fandom has been my real love, and I hope that despite this huge blow, people like you will continue being so immensely creative and artistic for this ship.

I’m sorry this has been so long and vent-y, but I wanted to send you this ask because you’re one of my favorite fic authors, and I’ve been following your posts since last night and you’re still responding to anonymous asks. I’ve always been stealth in the fandom to avoid certain parts of it, so didn’t want this on my own blog. If you do publish it, I hope the other authors and artists and creators who have made my life better get to see it too <3 And that they don’t regret the time and passion and love they’ve poured into the last few months. I have appreciated it, if nothing else.

Hi.

First of all, please don't apologize for the length of this.

Everything you pointed out were exactly the reasons people joined this fandom. Everything you listed here is EXACTLY the reason it left such a bad taste in our mouth.

I'm sorry I won't be more eloquent in this post, because this is such a kind and thoughtful and lovely summation of all the things I've been hearing and seeing and feeling.

The point of all that, if we are to believe Lou (which I do, and honestly props to him for being as gracious as he was in those post-mortems: fucking TWO exit interviews for a guest star? wtf abc), WAS to pull the rug out from under the audience. It WAS to end it all on a shocker of heartbreak. They filmed the bulk of Tommy's S8 scenes AFTER the breakup. It is absolutely vicious and cruel and meant to make people talk about it. The engagement they are getting right now is to some extent WHAT THEY WANTED. I went straight to my notes after work and I can't be fucked to check the insta or FB to see if they've posted anything new and/or what the comment count is on the 8x06 posts but THIS IS THE INTENDED RESULT. Broken hearts, upset people, an increasingly toxic fandom crowing.

That's where I'm at. I think that's where a lot of people have landed. And it's so disheartening to see something that really genuinely drew people in because it was handled so gently and kindly at first just be ripped away and the door shut on it.

And honestly if they close the mid season OR open or close 8B on a premise that includes one of them being injured and the other having a Realization™️ I won't trust this team to do it genuinely or truly. Even the breakup would have held so much potential for me, but not like this.

Anyway. I'm sorry you're feeling so disappointed. I am grieving the missed potential of literally every plot they built up this season for every character and if I do watch it won't be live and I will likely have very little trust for it's potential. There has been So Much wasted potential.

And I want to say thank you. Even if you lurked, even if you disengage now, the creators who made those works made them out of love and they wanted to share them and the community around it all has been lovely to see. Thank you.

Some of us will still be hanging around building the world that could have been. I hope, if you feel up to peeking at that sandbox, that you feel welcome to go play in it or even just clap from the sidelines.

♥️

[martiansodas-blog]

Art x reader meeting the readers parents and it's an absolute mess:(

(bonus points if he finds her old room and plays with her calico critters and plushies)

ok my brain automatically went to older! art soooo…

your parents knew 2 things about your new boyfriend.

1- he’s successful.

and 2- he’s a couple years older than you.

a couple years is an understatement.

but you figured once they met him and saw how sweet he treated you it wouldn’t matter!

this did not turn out to be the case.

your mom and dad took one look at him and made a snap judgment.

they knew his type, (supposedly.)

old money. a younger girl on his arm. cold and aloof. power hungry.

it’s a shame. this couldn’t be farther from the truth.

art donaldson may be a weapon on the court, but behind closed doors he’s the little spoon who makes you heart shaped pancakes.

“so. where did the two of you meet?” your mother asks, more to be pleasant and less because she wants to know the answer.

“at work,” you said , fondly remembering the exchange, “he was-“

“heckling my daughter in the workplace?”

“mom.” you warn “no.”

“honey,” your dad reigns her in

she huffs and crosses her arms in defeat.

“i was needing some more tennis equipment, actually.” art chimes in,

“yeah he was looking for these fancy sweatbands but we didn’t carry any, we just sort of got to talking.”

your dad gave you both a soft smile

“well, you seem to make our little girl very happy.”

incoming call from: tashi

“speaking of little girl, that’s probably her saying goodnight. excuse me.”

art very politely stepped out onto the porch.

“he has a kid?” your mothers eyes looked like they could pop out of her head at any second. “honestly why on earth would you think this is a good idea?”

“yes he does and she’s very sweet. her names lily.” you said firmly.

“so what? you’re gonna be a stepmom in your early twenties? is that what you want?”

“i wanted to introduce the person i love to my parents. but obviously that was a bad idea.”

your dad ushers your mom into their bedroom. he gives you a apologetic glance before he closes the door.

you stood there, frozen in the entryway for an unknown amount of time. as long as it took for art to finish his call and rest his hands on your shoulders from behind.

“hey hey, what’s the matter? what happened?”

you didn’t realize you were crying until you started to speak. well, tried to speak anyway.

“they,” you sniffed, “she…i’m sorry,”

“oh honey,” he pulled you into a hug.

you buried your face in his toned chest.

“i should’ve known this would happen” you heaved, gripping his shirt.

“shh, shh it’s ok. this is most definitely not your fault.”

he stroked your back and pressed feather light kisses to your hairline until you calmed down. when you removed yourself there was a wet patch right in the middle of his torso.

“let’s go upstairs, yeah?” he suggested gently.

he was almost using his dad voice.

you nodded, grabbed his coarse hand and guided him up the steps.

“so this is your childhood bedroom?”

art took in the whimsy filled room. the ceiling was only about a foot taller than him.

“the one and only.” you managed to crack a smile.

it was just how you’d left it at 18. the walls were pink and green. a choice you’d made at 7 and never got around to changing.

you’re glad you never painted over it now, though. it makes you feel innocent again, like a time capsule you can walk into.

art strolled around the room. looking at drama club trophies that lined the bookshelf, the collection of calico critters and the photo booth films stuck on your mirror.

there was a good amount of dust on everything. it caused a pit in your stomach to open up.

“you ok?”

“yeah” you nodded, “just got a little carried away by nostalgia.”

art wasn’t sure if touch would be the right thing for you right now, so he opened his arms, giving you the option.

you hugged him without a second thought. like an instinct. you squeezed him with all your might, like a stress ball. art hardly felt it, though.

figures.

“meeting my family will go better. my grandmas already looking forward to it.”

you lifted your head to look at him.

“really?”

such a simple sentence gave you butterflies.

“yeah,” he chuckled, like it was obvious “i’ve told her all about you.”

you truly didn’t know what to say. so touched by the sincerity and excitement in his tone. it. it caused you to break into a smile, a real smile, for the first time since you’d got to your parents house.

“i’d like that very much.”

[fablefrogg]

Why Will Byers Brings His Painting (On Two Separate Occasions)

I think it's so interesting that Will decided to paint the DnD party as a gift for Mike.

Since he brought the painting with him to the airport, we know that Will was definitely NEVER going to confess his feelings to Mike since he has very much resigned himself to the idea that Mike is straight and is in love with El (and El, Jonathan, and Argyle are also there with him so we can safely assume that he had never meant for his painting to be given in a romantic light).

Rather, Will brings the painting to the airport as a surprise for Mike in the hopes of reconciling their friendship.

Will, most likely, had intended the painting to be a friendly gift for Mike and it wouldn't be out of the ordinary, considering that Will has given Mike plenty of his artwork in the past (shown by Mike's binder of Will's drawings in S1 and how some are put up in his basement).

We know that they left on good terms at the end of S3 when the Byers move away, with a heartfelt conversation that Will would always stay with their original party and a good-bye hug. However, we also know that their contacting each other lessened as the months passed, as revealed by their fight in Rink O' Mania.

But I'm getting too far ahead of myself. Let's go back to the airport reunion before Rink O' Mania happened.

With the previous information now at our disposal, we are in the know that Will and Mike's last few interactions before their airport reunion have been few and far in-between. We don't really have a clue on how their phone calls went but it seems that they were still on good terms, considering Will's very happy expression on his face as he waits for Mike to arrive. But again, we know that Will is aware that their contact has been dwindling when he confronts Mike about it later on in the skating rink.

With this awareness, I believe that Will wanted to make sure that their friendship is still intact, even after the little communication they've had since the Byers move to California. That their strong friendship will continue to exist even if they were separated.

His answer to repairing their friendship was going to be his DnD painting. This painting must have taken a while to complete, a small signifier showing how long and often Will has thought about this. It is no coincidence that he chose the DnD party as his subject for his painting since their last in-person interaction is when Mike asks whether Will is going to join a new party and Will replies that that's not possible. By painting their DnD party, Will is basically referring back to that interaction and expressing to Mike that he didn't forget about them and that he never will, even after all this time and distance.

Which is why it's heartbreaking when Mike rejects Will's hug at the airport.

Since Mike is acting cold towards him, Will believes that Mike may not actually be receptive to his painting and his message behind it, so he (understandably) opts to not give the painting to him, referring to it as simply "just a painting". If Mike hadn't apologized to Will after their Rink O' Mania fight, I think that Will would have hidden that painting away where it will gather dust and never see the light of day.

Now, what is very interesting is that Will chooses to bring his painting again, this time on their road trip to get El back. But you may ask: Mike and Will have already reconciled their friendship when they have their heart-to-heart in Will's room so what else would be the reason to bring it?

Because now that he is assured in knowing that Mike has actually been wanting to reconcile with Will, expressing to him that Hawkins isn't the same without Will and that Mike felt like he lost him, Will deems it safe to bring it again. After all, judging by El's letter to Mike that Will has been working on it for weeks, Will wants to make it clear to Mike that even though Mike initiated their reconciliation, Will isn't passive in their friendship. Will is not someone who initiates so he shows in his own way that he does care. This painting proves that he's been thinking about them ALL THIS TIME. This friendship is just as important to him as it is to Mike.

However, as the road trip goes on, Will sees that Mike is worried and stressed about El and whether she really needs him through their heart-to-heart at the junkyard. Will probably thought that it would be insensitive to give him that painting now when it seems clear that Mike is in emotional turmoil about El and that he doesn't have much room to think about anything else. Again, he was NEVER going to confess his feelings with the painting. At this point in the road trip, he has already offered much relationship advice to Mike about El so we know he is supporting Mike and El's relationship.

Will had meant to use his painting to reconcile their friendship. Instead, he uses his painting to repair Mike's relationship with El.

After all, they have already technically reconciled their friendship, so Mike doesn't need the painting as more reassurance for that, right?

'What Mike needs is to know that he will always be needed and that he is so, so important to not just El but to the whole party. He is the heart, he's always been. I can't help much but this, I can do.'

So, Will resolves himself to be the initiator this time, giving Mike his painting on the basis that 'El had commissioned him' so that Mike can understand the inherent self-worth he has and how much he has impacted Will by making him feel better for being different. He not only expresses these feelings but his love for Mike under the guise of El's, knowing that he is helping Mike and El reconcile and that they will be stronger than ever once they do.

He knows that there is nothing to be gained from confessing his feelings. But by actually saying his feelings for Mike out loud to the very same person, Will has given these feelings corporeal form. Now, another person knows (to an extent) about his true feelings, and Will cannot take them back. And by acknowledging his love for Mike, he also has to acknowledge, by association, that Mike will never reciprocate back because Mike is in love with El and even if he wasn't, Will would never be the recipient of Mike's love. Of course, Will has already known this but expressing out loud to the person you are in love with feels final. Finished.

It is at this point that Will isn't only actively supporting Mike and El's relationship. This is Will Byers fully giving up.

But now, his lie about his painting is up in the air.

I'd guess that in the final season, Will is never going to confess his feelings and that he resolves to hide them. But just like how Mike initiates many of their moments together, I believe Mike will confront Will about this and bring Will's feelings to light, sooner or later. And I think that Will Byers is going to be in for a big surprise.

Edit: Forgot to mention, the throw-away line in the van scene where Will talks about going to Las Vegas and playing DnD and Nintendo for the rest of their lives is a call-back to the rain fight where Will said that they could just play games in Mike's basement for the rest of their lives. In both cases, playing games for the rest of their lives is a metaphor for Will's wish to spend the rest of their life together and to grow old together. So the fact that Will lies about his DnD painting for Mike and El's relationship could symbolize him giving up that dream.

[farfromstrange]

Fictober Day 25: Love Language

Fictober Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Prompt: Love Language (🌼)

Summary: Matt's love language is touch.

Warnings: Fluff, love language, not proofread.

Word Count: 687

A/n: I do believe Matt Murdock shows his love through touch a lot, but also through all his other senses. I'm just focusing on one in this fic.

Read Me On AO3! (coming soon)

Matt’s love language is touch.

It’s not because he doesn’t know how to tell you he loves you—he does. He tells you before you’re even awake, before he leaves for work, during work, and before bed. He utters those three times almost more than you do because he is scared if he doesn’t you might slip away, but that is also why he touches you so gently every time he’s close to you. 

Every morning, he traces the features of your face from your temples to your chin until you wake up. He kisses your temple when you’re busy making coffee, brushes his hand over your lower back when you’re brushing your teeth, or getting dressed for the day and he just happens to have to brush past you. 

He kisses you goodbye three times, one kiss for every word in ‘I love you’. And when he comes home, he kisses you once, but he doesn’t stop for a whole minute because he just needs to taste you after having been apart from you for so long. 

You can feel his love through his fleeting touches, the way he holds you close to his chest when you can’t sleep, and how he lays his head on your chest when he’s had a rough day because you are his only reprieve from the bustling of the city. You are his saving grace. When he touches you, even just for a second, he forgets the world.

So, when he tells you, “I love you,” on his way out the door and you answer with, “I know,” you mean it in the most literal sense of the word.

You know he loves you because he never fails to show you. 

You know he loves you because he will never let you forget it. 

He might never be able to give you peace, but peace, in your opinion, is overrated. He keeps your brittle heart warm. He keeps you safe. He would die for you, that much you know.

He has proven time and time again how much you mean to him, and yet he never feels it’s quite enough. He never feels like he is enough for you. Not good enough. Not pure enough. Not easy enough or safe enough. 

“As long as I’m part of your life,” he’d said once, “you’re always gonna be in danger, and one day, I might not be able to stop you from getting hurt.”

“It wouldn’t be your fault,” you’d told him.

“No, it would. You deserve better. So much better.”

But you only took his hand in yours, intertwined your fingers, and said, “I deserve you.”

If he lost you, Matt wouldn’t know what to do with himself. Having one more person he loves die in his arms would kill him. He would fall to his knees then and beg God to take him, too. He would beg the earth to open up and take him to hell because he is sure he has sinned enough to make it straight to the fiery pits of hell. 

His sins can not be forgiven, no matter how much he prays. You know he thinks like that more often than he cares to admit, and even when you try to tell him how good he is, he refuses to listen.

Loving you is his penance. 

Telling you how much he loves you is not enough, so he has to show it some other way. He has to work to earn it, he thinks, so he does. He will love you until his heart is bleeding on the floor—until he has sacrificed his very soul to you. Only then will he be worthy of redemption.

He’s utterly broken, but you wouldn’t stick around if you didn’t think he’s worth it. You can help him. You can take his hand and tell him time and time again that he is enough, and you will do so until he finally believes you.

Whether it takes two years or two lifetimes, you don’t care. You will never tire of trying because, to you, Matt Murdock is more than enough.

@ebathory997 @the-b33skn33s @scoliobean @drmeghanjones @lanae111 @gpenguin666 @linamarr @itwasthereaminuteago @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @sya-skies @thatonegamefish @amberritonicole @pigeonmama @bohemianrhapsody86 @a-gir1-has-n0-name @winkev1 @callsign-ember @chittaphonstar @buckyyyismahhlife @trublu2u @xnatyx @zomtart @ethereal-blaze @littleagxs @ravenclaw617 @lucienofthelakes @steve-chandler

[etheraltides]

BITTER SWEET ᥫ᭡࿔

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x kook!thornton!Reader

Summarize: Rafe Cameron, a rising name in the business world, desperately needs a date for the wedding of the year. With a major investment deal on the line and his image at stake, he finds himself reluctantly turning to the last person he ever expected for help: Topper’s little sister, a girl he’s bickered with since he could remember.

Warning(s): cursing, mention of grief, drugs.

A/N: I hope y’all like long chapter ‘cause your girl seriously got carried away with building things between them. Feedback is always heart warming <3!

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊ Chapter three: Can we call it truce? ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊

The hum of the engines filled the cabin, lulling most of the passengers in the business class into a calming state. Most, that is, except for you. You sat beside Rafe, trying to focus on the book at hand, your foot tapping a frustrated rhythm on the floor as he sprawled beside you enough to invade your space, oozing an insufferable amount of calm. Even with the extra room, it felt cramped - his very presence seemed to fill the air in the whole plane. His breathing was annoying you.

Rafe, meanwhile, stretched out his legs, his arm draped across the armrest to the point his fingers would brush your knees if you moved just a tide bi, his gaze lazily drifting away from his phone towards you. "You look like you're about to combust or something." He murmured, his voice dripping with amusement. "What? Didn't that douchebag do a good job with you?"

You gritted your teeth, resisting the urge to smack him across the face with your self-improving book, slamming its cover closed. The last thing you wanted was to have everyone looking at you as you shared your lovely words with Rafe. "Why the fuck are you so obsessed with him? Sounds like someone isn't getting laid..." You gave a cynical smile, thriving as you noticed the smirk dropping from his lips instantly. Now, that'd always be priceless. "I wouldn't be, if you didn't act like you owned half of my seat as well."

"C'mon, don't be dramatic." He stretched out further, nudging your eyeglasses as you tried to dodge your head but of course, his long arms would reach you. His smirk widened when you shot him a warning glare, almost as if daring you to do something. "You're by choice, remember? I can always tell Topper about that broken touron... Plus, I paid for both seats so I technically can be as comfortable as I wish."

"Barely." Your eyes narrowed, fingers clenching around the book. "One wrong move and I'm asking for a different seat."

Rafe raised an eyebrow, his smirk deepening enough to grace you with a dimple. A ridiculous dimple that'd be adorable in anyone but not on him. "Go ahead. Maybe you'll find a seat in coach where you belong."

That was it. Without thinking, you raised your hand, drawing the attention of a flight attendant passing by as you smacked your book against his chest with the other, a small satisfied smirk on your lips as you heard him groan.

"Yes, miss? Can I help you?" The attendant's polite smile faltered as she glanced between you, clearly sensing the simmering tension. Even a senseless person could tell. Anyone but you two.

"Yes, actually." You leaned forward, using your best sweet voice but not even it couldn't hide the clipped tone completely. "Could I switch seats? I'm afraid I'd be more comfortable elsewhere."

The attendant looked at you, then at Rafe, and back again, her expression sympathetic but warry. "I'm sorry, miss, but we're at full capacity here in business class. I could check for a seat in coach, but..." She trailed off, her eyes shifting to Rafe's amused expression as he tried to cover his laugh with a cough.

The tension in your shoulders tightened, your jaw clenched as you forced a smile. That’s what you get for trying to be a good human being. “Never mind, I'll manage.. Thank you."

You could feel his gaze lingering on you. amusement sparkling in his eyes as he leaned back, satisfied. "Looks like you're stuck with me." He murmured, his finger hooking on top of you glasses again only to push them lower on the bridge of your nose before you slapped his hand away.

You ignored him, staring ahead and steeling yourself. Yet as the minutes passed by, his presence beside you felt unbearable. You could feel his gaze every now and then, could sense his satisfaction in your discomfort. When the plane finally touched down, you were nearly ready to explode and take the first flight back - but then you remembered your part of the bargain and something strange tugging at your chest.

Hours later, in the quietness of your hotel room, you inspected your dress in the mirror, mind turning over the insanity of this arrangement. Why had you agreed to this? You hardly owed him anything, especially not this. And yet, here you were, preparing yourself to play a role in his life that the mere thought of the idea made you want to throw up. Maybe, deep down, you'd wanted to help, wanted to see him succeed just this once - he had recently lost Ward so... Maybe you could cut him some slack just this once. But as you took one last glance in the mirror, your couldn't shake the creeping doubt that this was all a huge mistake.

By the time you arrived at the beachside reception, you were determined to remain calm, to put up with Rafe and all of this madness for one weekend. You'd view it as one of your college projects. A small leaf of kindness to a boy who lost his father. "I'm doing these for Topper." You thought to yourself. It'd be one less thing for Topper to deal with.

The sun was setting over the ocean, casting a warm golden glow over the guests. It was exquisite honestly. Small tables dotted the pavemented area, surrounded by low, flickering lanterns and decorated with delicate pinkish flower arrangements. The sound of waves mingled with the soft music being played by the band as people chatted and laughed. You inhaled deeply, letting the salty ocean breeze wash over you. It felt good to be away from home. You loved Outer Banks but the way people were always paying attention and gossiping about the smallest steps of each other made you feel like someone had a hand on your throat, cutting your air from time to time. Here, despite a few familiar faces, you didn't have to be Thorton's perfect girl nor live under your mother's pressuring expectations 24/7. Even if you were here to play a fake part, it felt a bit more freeing than being your family's fake part at home. You smoothed down your dress. You could do it and you would enjoy this weekend.

Rafe held back a smile as he shook the man's hand, his heart pumping with adrenaline and pride as South Carolina's biggest real estate agent said he'd love to see some of the properties Ward had left for Rafe back in Charleston either to sell or rent. Rafe needed money after his deception with the Golden Cruise and wouldn't use most of the properties now in his name - that'd be some easy way to make money. The man excused himself with a squeeze on Rafe's shoulder and for what felt like hours, he finally had a moment to breathe.

His gaze shifted through the crowd, looking for a specific familiar face he hadn't seen since they arrived at the hotel - part of him was afraid you'd turn your back and be on your way to Outer Banks now without a word. You hadn't come outside your room when he knocked earlier, though he hadn't exactly waited around to see if you'd answer. He counted to thirty before sending you a text with the location and hour. But now, with the deep hues of the setting sun casting an amber glow across the venue, he spotted you. Faster than he'd like to admit.

You stood on the edge of the terrace, deep in conversation with a small group. The soft fabric of your dress catching the light and floating with each of your movements and the kisses of wind. Rafe's jaw tightened as he took you in, the vibrant color of your dress constrasting with your sunkissed skin and the effortless confidence setting you apart from the crowd. Your lips curled into an easy, practiced smile as you listened to an elder woman, but your eyes held a spark he'd seen many times before - sharp, observant.

A guest brushed past him, and he blinked, snapping out of his thoughts. Shaking his head slightly, he turned and made his way over the bar, feeling the strain of your reality settle in his muscles. You'd worn him thin on the flight, the words you exchange a mix of cutting remarks and barely veiled insults. And yet, here he was, his gaze drawn back to you as if on a string.

While he waited for the drinks, he glanced your way again, just as you glanced toward him - though you looked away just as quickly, a subtle arch of your brow signaling that your attention was far from amused. Rafe's lip twisted into a smirk, though he couldn't shake the strange irritation knotting in his chest.

When he finally turned back with the drinks in his hands, you were nowhere near where he'd last seen you. Annoyed, he scanned the crowd, his brows drawing together. He had texted you to don't be all over the place by yourself, not wanting to risk you doing something wrong that would fall on him. Then, across the terrace, he saw you.

You finally managed to take a breath from your grandma's acquaintances, the tension ebbing away from your shoulders until you felt a hand on your lower back, guiding you forward. You could know it was him before you even looked. That scent of warm spices with a touch of amber. His touch was infuriating to raise a few bumps on your skin. His breath brushed your ear as he leaned closed. "Try not to get too lost in the view, sweetheart." He murmured. "We're her for business, remember? I need you around."

You bristled, shifting away from his touch. "I'm perfectly aware, Cameron. You think I'm talking to them because I'm having the time of my life?"

He laughed under his breath, the sound grating before he sipped on his whiskey. "Relax. You're wound so tight, it's a miracle you haven't cracked yet."

You gritted your teeth, sending him a glare. The comment hit a bit deeper than he probably meant to. "Maybe I wouldn't be if I weren't stuck here with you."

His eyes glinted with something unreadable. "Right. Because I'm such a nightmare." He gave you a once-over, an annoying cockish smirk curling at the edge of his mouth that could barely go unnoticed. Barely. "That's rich coming from the one rolling around with low-life tourists... Just don't embarrass me, alright?"

Your mouth fell open, anger flaring as you held the urge to roll back your eyes. Shit, he would never let you hear the end of it, wouldn't he? Well, you had tried to be civil but he wasn't really helping so two could dance. "Embarrass you? I think I should be the one saying that giving your... history."

"Let's hope so." He said, shrugging nonchalantly but you could notice his jaw clenching, the way he quickly brought the glass to his lips again. You had got him. "This is my reputation on the line, after all."

Of course, he'd give the last word. You felt the urge to shove him, to break through that self-assured arrogance. But instead, you squared your shoulders, grabbed the glass from his hand, and turned your back on him, weaving through the crowd on your own. The farther you were from him, the better. How dared he? Embarrass him? You? He should be thanking you and making sure you were content enough to don't simply abandon him, and not acting like an asshole. "But that was Rafe Cameron." You reminded yourself.

As the evening wore on, you found yourself talking to a few guests, your confidence growing with each conversation and familiar faces. This was more your territory than Rafe's. Some of them you knew because of your grandfather, the others because of your mother, having seen them in the events your family hosted throughout the year - coming from an influential family had its perks as much as it had its downs - but, of course, you wouldn't tell Rafe yet. Then, you notice someone.

Mr. Rossi’s eyes crinkled at the corners as he spotted you. He made his way through the small crowd, his gray hair neatly combed back, a hint of cologne trailing behind him.

“Ah, you have grown so much since we last saw you,” he said, his voice rich with genuine affection. He extended a hand, firm yet welcoming. His grin revealed lines carved by years of smiles.

Before you could respond, Mrs. Rossi appeared at your side, her silk dress rustling softly as she leaned in, pressing a light kiss to your cheek. “Look at you,” she whispered with a warmth that made you feel instantly at home.

You took his hand, giving it a confident shake, your eyes sparkling. “Mr. and Mrs. Rossi, it’s so good to see you both!” A touch of nostalgia filled your voice, mingling with excitement. “And not just that,” you added, a playful lilt coloring your words as you shifted your weight, leaning slightly forward. “I’ll be taking my grandfather’s place in the upcoming tennis match this year, so... you two better come prepared.” You finished with a wink, your smile broadening as a flush of warmth crept into your cheeks.

Mr. Rossi let out a hearty chuckle, the sound resonating in his chest. He squeezed your hand before releasing it, exchanging a glance with his wife, who raised her eyebrows in mock alarm. “So, you’re the partner he’s been bragging about all lately.” He said, his tone laced with pride. He leaned slightly closer, his eyes narrowing playfully. “I guess we better watch out, love” He said to Mrs. Rossi, who nodded with a conspiratorial smile, the corners of her eyes crinkling with mirth.

“Oh, we’ll be there.” She said, a teasing note in her voice as she crossed her arms gently. “But don’t think for a moment we’ll go easy on you.”

The three of you laughed, the sound weaving seamlessly into the lively background, quickly launching into conversation. You remembered Rafe detailing every single thing about the business partner he wanted to attract but you'd never linked that with Mr. Rossi, an old good friend of your grandpa. You wanted to laugh at the coincide of it all, ignoring the small part of you that worried he'd bring this eventually with your family around.

It wasn’t long before Rafe appeared, a new drink in hand, eyes narrowed as he assessed the scene before him. His gaze swept over Mr. and Mrs. Rossi, then settled on you, a flash of frustration momentarily darkening his features. He took a slow sip, composing himself before approaching with a casual stride, masking the tightness in his chest.

You felt the subtle shift in the room before you saw him, the energy becoming taut. A mischievous smile played on your lips as you glanced his way, catching his eye. Without hesitation, you reached out, your fingers curling around his forearm to draw him closer. “I imagine you’ve already met my boyfriend.” You said, the word ‘boyfriend’ laced with a playful edge that danced just shy of sarcasm.

Rafe’s expression softened as he took his cue, slipping seamlessly into the role. “Not formally.” He said smoothly, a spark of amusement flickering in his eyes as he glanced at Mr. and Mrs. Rossi. “Rafe Cameron.” He added, offering his hand with a practiced charm that belied the tension beneath the surface.

Anne’s eyes lit up as she clasped Rafe’s hand, her touch light but approving. “You’ve got yourself a keeper, Mr. Cameron.” She said, her smile sincere as she exchanged a knowing look with her husband.

Rafe chuckled, a low, rumbling sound. “I try my best,” he replied, casting a sidelong glance at you. “Though she makes it an interesting challenge.”

Mr. Rossi nodded, a hint of businesslike interest crossing his face. “Speaking of challenges, I hear your office has been making waves recently.” he said. “I’ll make sure to pay a visit while I’m in town for the match.”

Rafe’s eyes flickered with a moment of surprise as he processed the unexpected connection but remained composed. “We’d be glad to have you,” he said, keeping his voice steady.

You squeezed Rafe’s arm gently, catching the subtle tension in his jaw. “Looks like we’ll be keeping busy.” You said lightly, breaking the moment with a smile.

Mr. Rossi chuckled, the sound deep and warm. “Indeed. I look forward to seeing just how much you both can juggle.”

The laughter that followed softened the air, weaving seamlessly into the lively atmosphere. Then Mr. Rossi checked his watch, saying it was time for his speech, joking about how he didn't want his daughter going bradzilla for his small delay.

You bit back a laugh, turning to Rafe. "You don't look happy, boyfriend." The word rolled off your tongue sweetly, a pout on your lips as a hint of mockery shone in your eyes.

Rafe's jaw clenched, and he took a slow sip of his drink, his gaze unwavering as he watched you. "You're awfully smug for someone who almost ended up in coach."

"Oh, come on." You retorted, leaning a little closer, your fingers opening the first two buttons of his shirt as you adjusted the collar, feeling a rush of confidence. God, it felt great to have the upper hand on him. "You needed me here tonight more than you imagined, huh? I'm the reason Rossi even bothered with you for more than a call from his secretary and an invitation to this."

He raised an eyebrow, his eyes looking down at your manicured nails on his shirt before he met your eyes, amusement flickering in them but it was laced with something darker. "Don't flatter yourself too much. He had already invited me here to discuss business. You're just playing your part to make me look more... stable."

"Sure... I'd hate for you to realize he'd avoid you in this crowd but yeah, suit yourself. Maybe I should get a cut of whatever deal you're hoping to land here."

Rafe smirked, leaning close enough that his breath ghosted over your cheekYou should push him away. Nope, couples don't push each other away. Playing your part. "Maybe you're enjoying this a little too much. I hate to say it but you look like you're having fun, princess."

Heat prickled at your cheeks as you realized his nearness, but you refused to back down. Couples don't push each other away and as he said, you were here to play your part. "Maybe I am. Pretending I'd choose you willingly has been quite the challenge though. I deserve a medal for this, maybe a Nobel."

Rafe chuckled, low and dark, your hand felt the vibrations on his chest as you tried to recall when you had rested them there. "Keep telling yourself that.”

You found yourself mingling with Mr.Rossi's daughter and her friends as the evening unfolded, laughing over shared stories about her soon-to-be-husband and single days while you sipped on champagne, letting yourself unwind in their easy company.

Across the terrace, Rafe nursed another glass of whiskey, his gaze wandering lazily around the crowd as he tried to pretend to be listening to whatever the man has been telling him for the past few minutes. He caught sight of a few men gathered nearby, theirs heads turned in one direction as they didn't bother to keep their comments to a low tone. His curiosity piqued - anything that wasn't the man talking the details about his basic sanitation network company. Rafe followed their line of sight and he froze, his glass top mid way to his lips.

There you were, surrounded by a group of women, your laughter light and genuine as you gestured with your hands excitedly, oblivious to the attention around you. You looked radiant, a far cry from the guarded, defensive person he was used to sparring with.

For a moment, Rafe felt his breath hitch. You looked... Happy, and there was something about that image, about you, that made his chest tighten in an unfamiliar way. He couldn't tear his gaze away, struck by how beautiful you looked when you weren't rolling your eyes or trying to push him away. Honestly, he couldn't even remember seeing you this carefree... Ever.

Then he caught the voice of one of the men beside him, a dark-haired guy leaning over to murmur to his friend. "Shit, man... I may shoot my shot. It doesn't look like she's with anyone here."

Rafe felt an unexpected, sharp pang on his stomach that quickly irradiated through him, and before he knew it, he was turning to the man with an arrogant smirk, an unmistakble edge to his voice. "She's taken, actually. My girl."

The man raised an eyebrow, a flicker of surprise and dissapointment crossing his face that had Rafe's smirk widening. "Really? Lucky bastard, hm. If I were you, I'd be as close as possible to her." He gave Rafe an amused nod, his eyes briefly running over your figure one last time before he turned back to his friends.

Rafe felt his grip on the glass tightneing, his knuckles turning white as he clenched his jaw. He was here for business. To show a clean image - he reminded himself.

As he dawned the rest of the liquor, the words that just spilled from his mouth echoing in his mind. My girl. His jaw clenched as the licour hit his throat, the reality of what he'd implied without thinking twice settling heavily on him. He wasn't jealous. Of course not. This was all just a part of the act, part of maintaining the appearances. He was just making sure they didn't ger the wrong idea - that was all. Definitely.

But as he looked towards you, he couldn't deny the surge frustration that rose in him when he saw another guy approach your group, a bright smile on his face as he joined in the conversation. He watched as you smiled back, looking genuinely delighted, your laugh seemed to pull everyone around you into your orbit. His fingers tightened around his glass again, and he felt a strange mix of pride and irritation twist inside him.

After a few minutes of watching, he couldn't take it anymore.

"Excuse me." He patted the sanitation guy on the shoulder without sparring him a glance nor bothering for a reply. He strode over, inserting himself into the circle with a charming smile, though his gaze was focused entirely on you. The other women greeted him with polite nods, but you turned with an arched brow when you felt his arm circling your waist, pulling you closer to the side of his body as if he had every right to.

"Having fun, baby?" He murmured, his eyes scanning your face, noting the soft flush in your ceeks - either from the champagne, him or your laughing, he couldn't tell. "Seems like you're doing better than I expected on your own."

"Why, jealous?" You teased, not missing a beat, a smirk curling at your lips as you caught the slight edge in his tone.

Rafe's smirk faltered for a split second before he forced a scoff. "Of you? Hardly. Just keeping an eye on things. After all, you are here with me, remember?"

Your gaze narrowed as he was the one to excuse himself earlier when both were walking around together and chatting with the other guests. The glint of amusement in your eyes told him that you weren't taking his words to heart. "Oh, I remember..." You replied, tilting your head to the side. "Just didn't realize you'd be so... attentive."

He shifted, suddenly a bit unsure. "I'm just... Making sure everything goes smoothly tonight, alright?" He muttered, sounding more defensively than he expected. "Look, it's not like I care who you're talking to or anything. We just have an image to keep."

You arched your brow, a playful smile tugging on the corner of your lips as you leaned a little closer, dropping your voice just low enough for only him to hear. "Good. Because I almost thought you were jealous, Rafe."

Rafe scoffed, straightening up and immediately tearing his gaze away from his lips to the ocean behind you. "Please. Like I'd be jealous over you... this." He waved a hand, gesturing vaguely at your figure, thought his eyes betrayed him, lingering a moment longer than he intended. Stupid dress.

The band started playing something softer and Lia, Mr. Rossi's daughter, grabbed the champagne glass from the people's hands, handing it to the first waiter that walked by. "Come on. I want all the couples dancing to this. I'd love to have it on footage."

You furrowed your brows, glancing over at her and then Rafe. The idea of dancing with him sounded absurd, even more in a crowd, making you hesitate for a moment but the mischievous glint in his eyes pulled you in.

Rafe held out a hand, his expression challenging. "What's wrong? Afraid you're going to catch feelings?"

You rolled your eyes, but before you could second-guess yourself anymore and make it suspicious, he took your hand and you let him lead you to the dance floor, feeling your heart speeding up. It's okay. It's just like midsummer - you repeated to calm yourself even if you always panicked during dances on midsummer, afraid that’d take a wrong step and all the heads would turn and see you.

The moment his arm wrapped around your waist, drawing you close, you felt a spark of electricity run through you. It was probably your anxiety, right?

The world around you seemed to blur, the hum of conversations fading into the background as he kept you close, his grip strong but not bruising. Firm as he pulled you into a gentle sway, his gaze locked onto yours with something that made your heart race a bit more. His hating gaze looked a bit different...

For once, you weren't fighting, weren't throwing sarcastic comments at each other. You were simply... around, moving in rhythm, caught up in a moment you hadn't ever thought possible. His hand was warm agaisnt your bare back, his touch not letting you move too far from him as he guided you.

Rafe's voiced dropped to a murmur, his gaze softening as he looked down at you. "You don't always need to be at my throat, you know?"

You raised an eyebrow, a soft laugh escaping. Honestly, you couldn't even remember why it started but you were sure he had given you a reason. "And miss out on all the fun? Never."

He huffed a quiet laugh, the corner of his mouth curving upward as he shifted his weight, leaning a fraction closer. The playful defiance between you seemed to thrum in the small space left between your bodies. A ghost of a smile played on his lips, but his eyes narrowed, holding yours with an intensity that sent an unexpected shiver down your spine. “Careful, you might start to like me.”

For a heartbeat, silence settled between you, thick and humming, before you felt the corners of your mouth twitch, shaking your head as a disbelief chuckle left your lips.

“Shut up.” You chuckled, your arms wrapping around his neck tired of holding resting his shoulder because of the height difference.

But as you looked up at him, the warmth of his hand on your back, you couldn’t shake the feeling that, even if it was just for a moment, you’d both let your guard down – and neither of you had hated it.

You and Rafe had just stepped off the dance floor, still laughing over the memory of Topper’s ridiculous stunt at last year’s family gathering. The thought of him, trying - and failing - at impressing everyone with his off-key karaoke performance that he had trained for weeks, was enough to keep the laughter bubbling between you.

“Honestly.” Rafe laughed, shaking his head. “He’s lucky he didn’t break something. I’m not even sure how the microphone survived the entire thing.”

You snorted, your amusement lighting up the moment and you quickly covered your mouth, cheeks heating as you waited for Rafe’s teasing but he did none, the crease on the corner of his eyes deepening as his smile stretched. “I think the whole room aged ten years listening to him butcher that song. We should’ve charged tickets.”

Rafe’s smile softened, and for a moment, the usual tension between you both seemed to melt away. But before you could tease him further, a man approached, his expression serious, as if he’d been waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

“Rafe.” the man said, clapping him lightly on the back, his tone overly familiar. “I just wanted to say how sorry I am about your father. Losing him like that… it must be incredibly hard.”

Rafe’s smile faltered for a moment, but he quickly regained his composure. He couldn’t even remember this man’s face. Probably someone that saw him and his dad in one of those award parties. “Thanks.” He replied, his tone polite but distant.

The man seemed to ignore the subtle shift in Rafe’s mood, continuing on with his monologue. “Yeah, I can only imagine. Your father was a legend - everyone respected him. I mean, not many people could’ve built what he did. A huge legacy. It must feel like a heavy burden, huh?”

Rafe’s jaw tightened, and his eyes flicked to you. You could practically see the frustration building in him, but the man kept talking, completely oblivious to the discomfort he was causing or simply not caring enough.

“You know, the pressure of living up to someone like that…it’s gotta be tough. Everyone’s always expecting you to fill those shoes, to carry on the family name. I don’t know how you manage it, but it must be exhausting.”

The tension in the air was palpable, and Rafe was clearly struggling to stay polite. But before he could respond, you couldn’t take it anymore nor risk Rafe loosing his cool here out of all the places.

“I need air,” you blurted out, voice sharp and breathless. You placed a hand on Rafe’s arm, pulling at him urgently. “I feel like I’m gonna pass out or something. I just— I need to get out of here, baby.”

Rafe looked at you in surprise, his brows furrowing for a second before he caught onto it. He stood straighter, clearly thankful for the distraction. You gave him a small but determined nod, practically dragging him away from the conversation.

“Come on, let’s get to the beach. Now.” you added, not giving him a chance to argue. You tugged him harder this time, the tension in your voice sharp, hoping it was enough to convince the man to leave him alone for the night.

The man was still rambling, oblivious to Rafe’s discomfort. “It’s just… it’s not easy living with that kind of legacy, right?”

Rafe turned back to him with a forced smile, cutting him off before he could say more. “Sorry, we really need some air.” He said quickly, his hand around your waist as if you needed to be supported to the way. “She’s not feeling well, and I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to stay in the crowd.”

Rafe shot the man a tight smile. “Thanks for the condolences.”

The man looked confused but nodded. “Of course. Take care, Rafe.”

As you pulled Rafe toward the beach, you didn’t stop until you were far enough away from the terrace. You let out a shaky breath, your frustration turning into a quiet laugh of disbelief.

“You okay?” You turned your head back, looking at Rafe cautiously once both had put enough distance between the man, almost reaching the beach.

He turned to you, a flicker of frustration crossing his features. “Yeah. Just… feels like everyone wants to remind me of it tonight.” he said, glancing back to the party before he glanced at you, chewing on his bottom lip as he tried keep his emotions at bay. He had lost the count of how many people came to talk to him about his dad and how impossible would it be to fill in his shoes. “You really saved me there.” He rubbed the back of his head.

“It was nothing.” You shrugged, letting out a long sigh as you felt the breezy air in your face.

Rafe gave you a grateful look, his stiff posture relaxing a little. “No, I’m glad you stepped in. That guy was relentless.”

You stopped just before you could step onto the sand and bent down to slip off your heels, the sound of your dress rustling as you lifted the hem to avoid dragging it through the sand.

Rafe’s gaze lingered on you, a mixture of admiration and confusion etched across his face as you balanced your heels in one hand. For a fleeting moment, you noticed a hint of something in his eyes, something that made your heart race. You released his hand to free up both of yours, but the sudden loss of his warmth sent a strange ache through you, as if you were missing it. Must be the chilly wind.

“Are you coming or what?” you called over your shoulder, a teasing lilt in your voice that made him smile.

The sound of the waves, rhythmic and calming, filled the space between you, casting a serene contrast to the fading noise of the party behind. The cool night breeze touched your skin, making you feel both exposed and comforted, wrapped in the solitude of the beach.

Rafe stood beside you, his features illuminated by the silver glow of the moon. Without a word, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a blunt, rolling it between his fingers with easy practice just to make sure it was tight in place. You watched him discreetly, curiosity stirring as he flicked the lighter and brought the flame to the tip. The brief burst of light illuminated his features – sharp jawline, focused eyes, the way his lips curved slightly as he took a drag.

You couldn’t look away, your eyes tracing the path of the smoke as it curled and rose, dissipating into the cool night air. It felt almost intimate, watching him like this, and you swallowed, trying to steady your thoughts when he turned and caught your gaze.

“Want some?” His voice broke the silence, low and inviting as he could sense your eyes on him.

A rush of nerves surged through you, mingling with anticipation. “I uh… haven’t smoked before. Topper always said it’d look bad for the family and that mom would disown me if she ever found out” you admitted, the corners of your lips lifting in a faint, rueful smile though your voice was quieter than usual, small.

Rafe’s brow arched, the shadow of amusement flickering in his eyes. If only you knew the things Topper did whenever he magically disappeared from the parties. “And what do you think?” The question was casual, but there was an edge of something deeper beneath it.

You took a breath, letting the salt-laced air fill your lungs. “I think I’m done caring about that.”

His smirk grew, and for a second, the intensity in his gaze softened. “Good.” He took another slow drag, the orange ember glowing against the dark, and held it out to you. His fingers brushed yours as you reached for it, a spark of contact that sent a shiver through you.

“Just inhale slowly, let it settle,” he said, his voice steady, a grounding presence in the rush of your heartbeat.

You brought the blunt to your lips, eyes flicking to him once more as you mirrored the movement you’d seen him make. The smoke tasted sharp, unfamiliar, and you exhaled with a cough, eyes watering slightly. Rafe’s smirk turned into a grin, warm and teasing. Almost proud.

“Not bad.” he said, amusement lacing his words. “Better than most the first time.”

A laugh escaped you, loosening the last of the tension. “I’ll take that.”

The two of you walked slowly, the cool sand shifting beneath your feet as the night deepened. The warmth from the smoke spread through your chest, lifting the weight you hadn’t realized you were carrying. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, catching the way the moonlight traced the strong lines of his face.

“Do you smoke often?” you asked, more to break the silence than anything else and you wanted to slap yourself for the question. Really?

Rafe’s expression shifted, a brief shadow crossing his features. “Not really. Only when I need to clear my head.” He looked out at the horizon, where the dark sky met the shimmering waves as he took the joint from your fingers, taking a long drag. “It helps keep the noise out.”

A quiet understanding settled between you. “I can’t imagine how hard it’s been” you said softly, your voice carrying the weight of what you didn’t say. “Losing your dad…”

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, his guard slipped, cracking enough to allow you to catch a glimpse of the raw ache beneath. “Yeah.”

For a moment, the space between you felt smaller, the silence charged with shared vulnerability. You took another drag, the taste still foreign but less jarring, and exhaled slowly as Rafe’s eyes returned to yours, something unreadable in their depths.

Rafe’s eyes lingered on yours for a moment longer before he shifted his gaze back to the horizon, the moonlight casting a silvery sheen over the waves as they rolled in. For once, the silence wasn’t biting.

You took another careful drag, this time holding it a bit longer before exhaling, just like he did earlier, but you were still unable to get rid of the cough completely. The warmth in your chest spread further, easing the last traces of tension from your body. It was strange and exhilarating to be here, outside the lines your mom had always drawn for you, with him of all people.

Rafe broke the silence, his voice softer, almost contemplative. “You know, you don’t have to be ‘perfect’ all the time.” He glanced at you from the corner of his eye, a hint of something unreadable in his expression. “It’s okay to let people see the real you. Acting like a human being and all.”

The words hit deeper than you expected. You looked down, your toes digging into the cool, damp sand. “I don’t even know who that is half the time" you admitted, the confession slipping out before you could stop it, swinging your heels softly to distract yourself from the embarrassment in your chest.

Rafe turned to face you fully, his expression serious but not hard. “Maybe it’s time you find out.”

The sincerity in his tone made your heart stutter. You met his gaze, and for a moment, everything else fell away - the distant party, the rolling waves, the cool bite of the night air. It was just the two of you, standing on the edge of something that felt completely new.

Before you could say anything, he took a step closer, close enough that you could see the faint stubble on his jaw, the way the moonlight caught the flecks of grey in his blue eyes. The scent of smoke and saltwater surrounded you, heady and grounding, mixed with his perfume.

“Rafe…” Your voice came out quieter than intended, the space between you charged with tension.

He searched your face, a soft smirk tugging at his lips. “Yeah?” His voice was low, a whisper meant for only you.

The truth is, you didn’t know.

You felt the urge to close the gap, to see what would happen if you let yourself fall just a little further into this to see where would it go. But before you could move, he reached out, fingers brushing your cheek as he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. The touch was fleeting but sent a shiver down your spine.

What was happening?

“I kinda like this version of you.” he said, the honesty in his tone making your heart thump wildly.

For the first time in a long while, you felt seen - not as the person everyone expected you to be, but as yourself. The realization was both thrilling and terrifying. You looked up at him, a smile tugging at your lips. “Maybe I do too.”

Rafe’s eyes softened, and without another word, he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, his fingers placing the blunt in front of your lips. The two of you walked without a hurry and direction, the few glasses of champagne you had earlier and Rafe's glasses of whiskey distracting both of you from the situation, from what it looked like and what it could possibly mean.

The air between you felt different now, the silence thick with something unspoken, the kind of tension that crackled in the spaces between your words. Rafe’s eyes lingered on yours a moment longer than usual before he shifted his gaze back to the horizon, where the moonlight kissed the waves in a dance of silver and blue.

A strange warmth bloomed in your chest, spreading through your body like the soft glow of embers catching fire. The world felt sharper - every scent, every sound more pronounced. The night air nipped at your skin, but it felt distant, almost dreamlike.

Then it hit you like a wave crashing against the shore: you had just smoked weed. You, the one who had lived carefully, each step monitored, each decision weighed against the unspoken expectations of your family, had done something completely impulsive. The absurdity of it made your lips twitch, and before you could stop it, a small laugh bubbled up from deep inside.

You covered your mouth quickly, but it escaped anyway - another giggle, this one louder and harder to contain. You shook your head, eyes wide with disbelief, and tried to stifle the sound, but the harder you tried, the more it slipped free.

Rafe's gaze flicked to you, his lips curling into a grin as he watched you. “There it is” he teased, a knowing lilt in his voice. “I was wondering when the giggles would show up.”

You shook your head in mock exasperation, still unable to stop the fits of laughter, feeling your cheeks burning in embarrassment. “I can’t believe I just did that. I actually smoked weed. Oh my God. Don't tell Topper!" You looked at him with wide eyes, pointing a manicured nail towards his chest.

Rafe arched his brow, his head leaning down until his breath was touching your ear. “What’s your bargain?”

You blinked for a second, before you pushed his chest away, letting out a dramatic “Ew, Cameron!”

Rafe chuckled, his voice warm in the cool night air. “Welcome to the club, sweetheart. It’s liberating, isn’t it? Letting go for once?”

You nodded, the last of your giggles dying down as you met his gaze. There was something in the way he looked at you - understanding, maybe a little deeper than you expected. It made your chest tighten in a different way now.

“Yeah..." you whispered, your voice softer than before. “It really does.”

The next few moments passed in a quiet, comfortable silence, the only sound being the soft rush of waves against the shore. Every so often, a burst of laughter escaped you, and Rafe joined in, his chuckle easy and carefree.

By the time you reached the hotel, the city hummed with late-night life, a symphony of distant laughter and the occasional honk of a cab. The mix of champagne and weed had left your steps unsteady, your senses softened around the edges. Somewhere along the way, Rafe’s arm had slipped around your waist, steadying you as you swayed with a giggle. The warmth of his touch felt too natural, too easy for two people who supposedly couldn’t stand each other.

“You think we’ll make it to the room before I collapse in a heap of elegance?” you teased, the words slurred with playfulness, though a flicker of doubt clung to the end.

Rafe smirked, casting a sideways glance down at you. “At this rate? You’re lucky I haven’t thrown you over my shoulder already,” he said, voice threaded with a teasing edge, but there was a softness there, something almost protective, that he quickly masked.

You leaned into him, the movement instinctive, your giggle breaking free as you stumbled slightly. “Oh, please. I’m fine.” you quipped, tilting your head up, your eyes catching his. Without thinking, your hand pressed against his chest, fingers curving around the muscle beneath. You blinked in surprise before watching your brows at him. “Damn, nice boobs.”

His eyes widened for a split second before he threw his head back in a laugh, the sound reverberating through him and into you. “Jesus, Y/N.” He felt the heat rise in his cheeks, an unfamiliar sensation he brushed off with a roll of his eyes. He caught your hand as it lingered, the playfulness replaced for a heartbeat with something charged, before he let it go with a chuckle. “Keep that up, and I’ll start charging for these services.”

“So that one was on the house?” you asked, your grin lopsided, unable to hide how much you were enjoying this rare break in your usual dynamic.

Rafe’s gaze softened for a fleeting moment, the walls you both kept between you forgotten under the haze of laughter and the city lights. “Depends. Will you keep assaulting me?”

The two of you burst out laughing, the sound a contrast with the rather quiet lobby but none of you could care less. For once, none of you were being bothered by the image that you were supposed to keep and the animosity felt like a distant memory, replaced by the sharp realization that maybe pretending wasn’t the hardest part after all.

Once inside the hotel, you both went straight to your hotel rooms. You fumbled for the key cards, sliding one into the door, but the red light blinked mockingly. You tried again, turning the card. Still no luck. Your frustration began to mount as you tried once more, and then again, but the door stubbornly refused to open.

Rafe stood back, watching with a bemused smirk. “Having trouble?”

“Are you serious right now?” you muttered, glaring at the door. “These damn things are broken, I swear.”

“Sure, sure,” Rafe said, his grin widening. “You’re not just the problem, huh?”

You shot him an exaggerated glare but couldn’t help the laughter bubbling up again. “I swear, it’s not my fault.”

“Right.” Rafe teased. “Because nothing is broken when you get involved.”

He glanced over at you, his brow furrowed. “Great.” he muttered, pulling the card out and trying it again, only for the light to flash red, mocking him. He tried once more - still nothing. His expression darkened with frustration.

“Rafe, are you sure you know how to use those?” you teased, leaning against the wall, an amused grin tugging at your lips.

He shot you a half-amused, half-annoyed glance. “I’m not an idiot.” he said, giving the card one last try before slapping it against his palm. “It’s the damn door.”

With a sigh, he turned to the door across from yours - the one that led to his room - and gave it a shot with his card. You leaned in just enough to watch, your curiosity piqued. He slid his card in, turning the handle with the same precision.

Nothing. Again.

“Well, that’s just great!” he muttered, letting out a punch on the door before he . He looked over at you, his expression a mix of disbelief and annoyance.

You snickered softly, crossing your arms. “Looks like we’re both stuck.” you said, your voice laced with teasing. “Are you sure you paid for the rooms, Cameron?”

Rafe shot you a playful glare. “I blame the hotel staff” he replied, rubbing his forehead as if this whole situation were somehow their fault. He shoved the card back into his pocket. “Let’s check the front desk.”

As you both headed toward the elevator, you couldn’t help but notice the faint frustration in his eyes. But there was something else there, too - a glimmer of something you couldn’t quite place. Maybe it was the way he’d been looking at you all night like he was trying to figure you out, or maybe it was just the ridiculousness of the situation.

The receptionist smiled sympathetically, taking the cards from you and swiping them through the system. You glanced over at Rafe, your eyes landing on his red, bloodshot gaze, and blinked in surprise.

“Damn, dude. What happened to your eyes?” you asked, voice a mix of shock and amusement.

Rafe shot you a side-eyed glance. “Shut up.” He muttered, but there was no hiding the playfulness in his voice.

You paused for a second, a small laugh escaping as your mind quickly connected the dots. “Wait, wait. You’re high as hell, aren’t you?” you teased with a grin, whispering as you thought the receptionist wouldn’t hear but the poor lady did a good job at pretending.

Rafe raised an eyebrow, smirking even more. “You’re real observant one, huh.” he replied dryly, his eyes narrowing as he watched the receptionist typing on the computer, ready to cause a scene.

Just as you were about to keep joking, Rafe suddenly pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of you. You blinked, a little surprised, but he just raised the phone to show you the screen with a smug look on his face.

There, right on the screen, was a close-up of your face – your eyes bloodshot and glowing red.

You froze, staring at it for a moment before your face broke into a laugh. “Oh my god, really?” you said, trying to stifle your giggles.

You leaned in to get a better look at the photo, your own laughter bubbling up. “That’s cute. We’re matching, Cameron!” you joked, raising an eyebrow.

Rafe shook his head, still grinning. “You’re ridiculous,” he said, but there was warmth in his voice.

The receptionist checked the system again, then looked up, a surprised smile on her face. “Actually, I see that your rooms has been upgraded.” she said. “Mr. Rossi made special arrangements for you. You’ll be staying in one of our premium suites, with an incredible coastal view.”

Rafe exchanged a glance with you, both of you processing the unexpected news. "Upgraded?" you repeated, still a little disoriented. "Wow... really?"

The receptionist handed you two new key cards with a smile. “Yes, enjoy your stay. All your luggages and belongings have been transferred already.”

“Guess we’re living the high life now,” Rafe said with a grin, taking the cards from her.

You snorted at his words, still buzzing with laughter. “Yeah, right… Literally.”

You both headed to the elevator, your footsteps light as you approached the suite. As the door opened, you brows shot up. A king-sized bed sat in the center, surrounded by luxurious vintage furniture. The floor-to-ceiling windows revealed a panoramic view of the coast - moonlight glimmering on the water, the soft rumble of the waves reaching your ears.

But then you looked at the bed again, and your stomach sank as everything clicked into place. You slowly turned to face Rafe, wide-eyed.

“Wait… we’re sharing this bed?” you asked, the realization slowly sinking in.

Rafe snorted. “Guess so. Unless you want to sleep on the couch.”

You shook your head quickly. “No, I’m not sleeping on the couch. But how are we going to-?”

“What? Afraid you’ll be tempted?” He arched his brow, a teasing smile on his lips as he already move to his side of the bed, kicking off his shoes.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “I’ll take the bed. You can take the couch.”

“Not a chance.” Rafe cut you off with a raised hand. “I’m not sleeping on the floor either, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

You paused, thinking it over. “Okay, here’s the deal. You take one side, I take the other. No crossing the line, no touching. Agreed?”

Rafe crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I’ll agree to those terms, for now.”

The two of you stood there for a long moment, an unspoken tension between you, both looking each other in silence as if in some sort of staring contest.

“Fuck, whatever.” You sighed, running a hand on your hair as you could feel your eyelids too heavy. “I’m too tired for this shit.”

The soft click of the bathroom door broke the silence as you stepped out, the quiet only punctuated by the steady thrum of your heartbeat. You hesitated, taking a deep breath before moving. The silk ivory nightdress you wore was far too short to be comfortable with someone else in the room. The fabric brushed high on your thighs with each step, and a delicate lace traced the neckline, dipping low enough to tease. A matching robe hung loosely around your shoulders, but it offered little coverage - just the pretense of modesty. You had packed it for the warm weather but you didn’t imagine you’d share a room with him.

You’d taken your time getting ready, hoping that by now, Rafe would be asleep. But as you tiptoed around the bed, trying to slip under the covers unnoticed, the soft click of the lamp switch made you freeze.

Warm light bathed the room, casting shadows that flickered along the walls. You felt his eyes on you, burning with a heat that made the silk on your skin feel even thinner. Rafe was propped up on one elbow, his hand the back of his head and eyes sharper than they should be at this hour. The smirk that curled at the corner of his mouth sent a shiver through you.

He let his gaze travel slowly, unapologetically taking in the way the nightdress hugged your body. The ivory silk clung to your curves, highlighting the bare slope of your shoulders and the length of your legs. The lace skimmed the line of your chest, delicate and inviting. His eyes lingered where the fabric dipped and rose, tracing every detail as if he were memorizing it.

“Couldn’t sleep…” He said, voice low, the tease there but edged with something that made your breath catch. “But I see I might now.”

A nervous laugh escaped you, and you pulled the robe a little tighter, though it did nothing to ease the warmth spreading through you. “I didn’t think you’d still be awake.” you said as if trying to explain yourself, feeling like a deer caught in headlights.

Rafe’s smirk morphed into something deeper, eyes glinting as he pushed himself to sit up, muscles flexing under the thin cotton of his shirt and you’d never admit your gaze wandering to the contour of his muscles. “With you bringing the bathroom down? Not a chance.” He paused, the humor giving way to a quieter, more intense look. “You know, you don’t have to hide.” he said, nodding toward the robe that you tightly wrapped around you as you were almost curling on yourself.

Your fingers hesitated on the fabric, heart pounding as his words settled between you. The buzz from earlier, the laughter and sharp words, had dulled into a warmth that made your skin tingle. Still clouded with the weed and the drinks, you take a deep breath and take off the robe, quickly sliding under the covers and pulling it up your chest.

“If you’re trying to make peace between us,” he murmured, eyes darkening as they met yours. “this is a damn good way to start.” The playful lilt in his voice didn’t quite mask the heat simmering beneath it.

You rolled your eyes, but the corner of your lips lifted. “I thought the blunt of peace was already shared.” you said, voice soft but daring. The tension between you crackled, unspoken and electric.

Rafe’s eyes darkened, his jaw tightening as he exhaled slowly. “Fuck…” he muttered under his breath, the word low and rough, like it slipped out without permission. He dragged a hand through his face, eyes looking to the ceiling as his head hang back before he shifted, grabbing a pillow and placing it firmly between you on the bed, quickly turning off the lamp.

“Good night, trouble” he said, the nickname rolling off his tongue with a mix of teasing and resignation, as if trying to convince himself more than you.

The corner of your mouth lifted, heart still racing as you pulled the sheets over you. “Good night, idiot.” you whispered back, the space between you feeling smaller than ever, despite the pillow.

The room settled into silence, but the tension hummed beneath it, making sleep a distant thought.

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

TAGLIST: @megiiite @melsunshine @maybankslover @wearemadeofstardust0 @lilithblackkk @slutforoldermen @louxmcl @peter-parkers-gf @yootvi @v4mp1rr3

[hexlenx]

EVEN IN OTHER UNIVERSES, I LOVE YOU. — aaron taylor-johnson

In which you came home tired from work and only just wanted to lay down on your shared-bed with your husband. Only to see five different version of said husband.

note: hello! So I have come to write another one shot or fic or whatever you call it because I couldn't help myself but write this new idea I thought of. I do hope you enjoy!

warnings!: none because we fluffy today pookie.

__________________

Sighing tiredly you let out a groan as you took a small break in your car, resting your head on the steering wheel as you closed your eyes for a few moments.

You just finished your work from helping your director write the script for the next movie you're starring. You see, you've been an actress in the industry for a long time now and even though it's tiring you continue to work through it as it is your passion. Plus, it's where you met your lovable and handsome husband. A fellow well-known actor in the industry.

The director asked for your help because you had experience in directing as well as a degree for it. So hence why you also came home late while your husband went ahead after a bit of your persuasion. Thinking of your husband, you smiled fondly. How can you be so lucky to have such a man?

While you were taking a small break from your car, said husband was sweating profusely in the kitchen with a spatula in hand while wearing a pink apron.

Looking at the five males in front of him, Aaron cursed underneath his breath.

"Fuck me."

The gate opened automatically after scanning your car's number plate. Before driving in reverse towards the garage door. Humming a soft tune you put the car on park and grabbed everything you need from the car before coming out of it.

Opening the door connected to the kitchen, you took off your shoes and hanged your coat on the hanger before calling out to your husband with a bright smile.

"Honey, I'm home!" Your smile slowly turned into worry as you were greeted by nothing. Usually you were greeted by a beaming charming smile as well as a giant hug lifting you off from your feet while being spun around by your husband.

Where could he be?

"Aaron? You there?" In slight worry you walked around the first floor of the house searching for your husband, but alas there was no sign so you moved upstairs.

There was a thump in one of the rooms when you were in the middle of walking on the stairs making you feel worry and fear when you heard a voice groaning as well as cursing. Your mind was running in a fast pace as you run up from the stairs towards the source of those noises.

No it can't be, please tell me he didn't—

The scene in front of you shocked you. The noises stopped as the figures looked at you in silence.

"Love, I can explain—" Aaron was the first to break the silence with his hands up as if he was trying not to anger you. And let me tell you, you do not want an angry wife at you.

However, instead of an angry wife. You looked like you were about to cry. You see, another thing about you is that you are quite an open and very sensitive person. Your legs gave up as you collapsed on the floor, tears running down your face as your exhaustion mixed with your anxiety was not a good combination right now.

"I—i thought you were with a w-woman—" you stuttered as your husband immediately went over you to put you in his embrace the moment your knees buckled whispering praises as well as reassurance to you. Desperately trying to calm you down. He knew you were very tired since it's about ten in the evening by now and he supposes that the noises he and the others made, made you think of something else.

His heart broke just by thinking he was doing things to another woman other than you, he cannot and will never do such a thing to you. He loves you too much to do so.

The five other male in the room looked at the scene in front of them, disbelief clear in their faces as they looked at your figure. Hearts beating uncontrollably as the younger looking male in the room muttered a name.

Your name.

This made all of you to snap your heads up to the male. Now that you look at it, they all looked just like your husband. No, actually all of them are your husband. No one can impersonate your husband unless it's your husband himself, his face is too unique to be able to copy.

"Why are there five more of you?"

Now that the situation has calmed down, you, your husband and five more of him sat in the living room in silence. Assessing the situation.

"So you're telling me that you, Dave was getting beaten up almost to death before coming here? James, you got here when you were stuck by Voldemort. Alexei, got here when you fell from your horse at full speed, head first. Tangerine, you got here after getting shot on the neck trying to kill the White Death's child and Pietro, you got shot multiple times by saving Clint from dying? Have I summarized it correctly?" You summarized outloud as the others nodded to confirm your statement. You sighed as both you and your husband looked at each other, not knowing what to do since unlike some of their worlds, you guys don't have the power to bring them back to theirs. But they all don't seem like they're hurt from their explanations. Maybe it's cuz they're in a different world.

"What were you doing before I barged in the room?" You asked your husband who looked everywhere but you.

"I was trying to give them some clothes, Dave, Pietro and James was the only one who accepted it but the other two wanted something that fit their styles." Aaron sighed as he took a sip at the coffee he made since it was getting late. He really thinks that you should rest first and let him handle it though.

"Sorry gentlemen, but it's quite late in the evening and I would like to take a nap and rest. We will take care of this tomorrow." You sent them a tired smile as you stood up from your seat and towards your bedroom upstairs, leaving all six of them in the room.

As soon as you were out of hearing range, Aaron's expression turned cold as he looked at Dave. Even if he knew the kid wouldn't hurt his wife because he played his character years ago, he will still not let loose his guard. Dave flinched from the glare and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly while the others stared at him the same way as Aaron, that's weird.

"How do you know my wife?"

This made the men's eyes go wide. Wife? That made them collectively let out a sigh of relief. Wife..

"She's also your wife?" James asked Aaron, it's kind of weird talking to yourself as he looked at the older one in wonder.

"also?" Aaron questioned.

"Yea, I mean. In my universe I married her and had Harry after we got married at twenty-one." James enthusiastically explained as his face brightened up when talking about his lover.

"Uh.. she's my girlfriend in my universe too." Dave lifted up his hand awkwardly. Though you can see that he is also happy to announce that you are his lover.

"I'm also her lover when I have escaped Hydra with my twin sister." Pietro said with a charming smile, his face brightening up whenever he mentioned his wife.

"I'm married to'er in my universe. Doll, was the only one who accepted me other than my brother." Tangerine uttered out as he lit up a cigarette before puffing it out the smoke from his mouth, where he got that from? I don't know and neither does the others.

"...she is my affair, my lover that I intend to protect with all of my soul. The only maiden who saw me for me and not some viscount." Alexei said as his eyes were clouded with the memories of his lover. Ah, how he longed to be in her arms again.

"All of us are her lovers in another universe, huh?" Aaron sighed out, his smile coming out as he thought that even in different versions of himself, he chooses you and is still with you. It makes him sigh in content and happiness as he is assured that no matter what happens, he is still with you in the end.

"Even in every other universes, I love you." All men uttered out, the atmosphere becoming serene as they sat in a few moments of silence.

Warmth filled their chests as the leaned back in their seats as their thoughts only circled in one subject.

You.

[captainsophiestark]

Comfort

Dick Grayson x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: DC

Summary: The vigilante couple that takes care of each other after a bad patrol night stays together.

Word Count: 1,173

Category: Fluff, Comfort (after Hurt, but the hurt's not in the fic)

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I winced as my boyfriend, Dick Grayson, dabbed antiseptic against the cut on my arm. It needed to be done, and I was glad I didn't have to do it myself, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt.

"Sorry," Dick said, his voice soft. I leaned into him.

"It's ok. Thank you for helping."

"You might not want to thank me until we're done stitching this up. I'll do my best to be gentle, but... it probably won't feel great no matter what."

I gave him a weak smile, then let my head drop to rest on his shoulder. He held my injured arm gently in his lap, taking care not to move it more than he had to.

"I think you get the thank you no matter what. Especially since I'd have to try to do this myself if I didn't have you here to help me."

Dick just hummed, and I tried to focus on him and his comforting warmth as he moved to start on the stitches. Being a vigilante was absolutely brutal sometimes, thanks to moments and injuries like this. Especially since we couldn't usually go get treated as our civilian identities, lest it lead to some very awkward questions. But we were doing good, important work, and we were doing it together. Despite the worst days, I wouldn't trade this life for anything, and I knew Dick felt the same.

I focused on taking deep breaths through my nose as Dick worked. I clenched the hand of my non-injured arm, working on keeping the injured one still. Between stitches, Dick muttered comforting words, the tone and timbre of his voice near my ear keeping me as calm as anything else. I lost track of time, zoning out of the moment to focus on breathing and the man beside me.

Finally, Dick let out a sigh and sat back, moving one arm from my wound to around my shoulders. I sighed, leaning further into his chest, finally able to move the arm he'd been working on now that it was all stitched and bandaged.

"You still feeling okay?" he asked, rubbing small circles with his thumb against my good arm. I sighed and nodded.

"As okay as I can feel, considering everything. Thanks again for patching me up."

"You know I'm always happy to take care of you. I'm just sorry you needed it in the first place."

"Eh." I shrugged. "Life of a vigilante."

"Yeah," Dick sighed, sounding a little more melancholy than I'd been expecting. We stayed like that for a few long moments, laying against each other and enjoying the peace after a sketchier-than-usual night of fighting crime.

Finally, Dick sighed again, more as a transition than a lament this time.

"Alright, we both need to eat something, and then get some rest. Anything sound particularly good to you?"

"...I don't know if my heart can take the adventure that is your attempt at cooking on top of the night we've already had."

"I was planning to order in, but it's nice to be reminded that you have no faith at all in my culinary ability."

I just smiled and leaned into him.

"You know I love you, but you also know Jason spilled about the time you managed to burn cereal. I don't think there's a lot of hope for coming back from that, babe."

Dick laughed, pulling me even closer to him, the slightly heavier mood now completely gone.

"I guess that's fair. But one of these days, I'm going to secretly take a cooking class, and then I'll prove you all wrong."

I just hummed. "Take me with you when you do it. A cooking class sounds fun."

Dick chuckled and leaned down to place a soft kiss on my forehead.

"It's a deal. Now come on, let's get you settled in on the couch so we can order something good."

I sighed, but shifted my weight off of Dick. I moved to push myself up to standing, but before I could get very far, Dick shot up next to me and swept me into his arms. I laughed, throwing my arms around his neck in surprise as he carried me towards the living room.

"You're too injured to walk," he said, a grin on his face despite his words. "Doctor's orders, you need to be carried."

"Pretty sure it was just my arm that got really hurt. Some bruises and other injuries on my torso. Legs ended up being pretty okay."

"Mmm, no, I'm pretty sure I'm right."

He set me down on the couch with a flourish, then sat and shifted me around so my legs laid across his lap. He sighed and picked up his phone, taking care of takeout while I got my arm in a comfortable position and stared at the angel of a man that I got to call my boyfriend.

"Alright, food should be here in about twenty minutes," he announced, setting his phone down in triumph. "I vote we watch a movie or something while we wait and eat, then go to bed."

"I have one suggested addition to the plan."

"Yeah?"

"I want to reserve the right for us to change the plan and fall asleep here instead of going to bed."

Dick raised an eyebrow and made a big show of looking me up and down, spending a little extra time evaulating my arm and its position. Then, finally, he met my eyes again.

"You sure your arm's gonna be okay if we stay here?"

I shrugged. "Pretty sure. I've put worse stitching through more strenuous and dangerous activities than a couch nap before."

Dick grinned, his blue eyes sparkling as he wrapped an arm over the top of my thighs and pulled me closer to him.

"I don't know. I've heard couch naps can be pretty perilous."

"As long as neither of us rolls off the thing, I feel pretty good about our chances."

He hummed, pulling me even further onto his lap. "We should probably cuddle pretty closely, then. To keep each other safe from falling off this thing."

"Makes sense to me," I said, grinning and turning to lean into Dick. "Safety precautions are important."

He huffed a laugh, then finally stretched out on the couch alongside me, shifting us both so I was half laying on his chest. I could hear the constant comforting beat of his heart through his shirt, and I swear, my blood pressure instantly dropped.

"What are we gonna do when the food gets here?" I groaned, already halfway asleep. The last of the adrenaline had finally faded now that I was here, happy, comfortable, and safe with my favorite person in the world, and I could feel how quickly I was losing the battle with sleep.

"Don't worry," Dick muttered, gently running his hand up and down my back. "I'lll take care of it. You just get some rest."

I hummed, intending to say something else to him, but the exhaustion rooted into my bones and I couldn't keep myself up. I drifted off on his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around me, perfectly safe and content with the love of my life.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen @misshale21

DC Taglist: @gaychaosgremlin @v1ckycheesue @lavender-dinos @g0atmansbridge182

[stwrrybwrry]

I wonder what Megumi is like after a rough mission...💭

⊹　 ︶︶　 𖹭᪲　 ︶︶　 ⊹

Megumi! Who watches you from a distance after the mission, his eyes filled with a storm of emotions he doesn’t understand himself. The images of his failure—of the people he couldn’t protect—haunt him, and when he looks at you, all he can feel is guilt. The fear of losing you, of becoming the very person who hurts you, keeps him away. He doesn’t know how to fix what’s broken, so he isolates himself, convincing himself that pushing you away is the only way to keep you safe.

Megumi! Who walks past you like you’re invisible, the weight of his failure heavy on his shoulders. He can’t look at you, not when every time he does, he’s reminded of how he couldn’t keep his promise to protect those he cares about. He tells himself it’s for the best, that he’s keeping you at a distance to shield you from the darkness within him, but all it does is make the silence between you grow unbearable. He watches as you begin to laugh with others, each smile a dagger to his heart, reminding him that he’s the one who pushed you away.

Megumi! Who can’t shake the image of your face when he snapped at you in anger and fear, the hurt in your eyes etched into his mind. In that moment, he was overwhelmed—by the guilt of his failure, the anger at himself for not doing more, and the fear of losing you. That fear consumed him, making him lash out, but now it’s suffocating him. He can’t bear the thought that he’s the one who caused the pain he’s seeing in your eyes, and it eats at him every second of every day.

Megumi! Who stands alone in the dark, remembering the screams of those who suffered because he wasn’t fast enough, wasn’t strong enough to protect them. He thinks of you, of your kindness and warmth, and the thought that he might have ruined that forever sends a chill down his spine. The more he tries to push you away, the more it feels like he’s losing you completely, but he doesn’t know how to stop. He’s terrified that if he lets you in again, he’ll only end up hurting you, just like the others.

Megumi! Who sees the distance growing between you, the way your once-friendly smiles have faded into something more reserved, more distant. He’s the reason for this coldness, and the guilt crushes him. He remembers your tears, the way you’d hide your pain, and he curses himself for not being able to shield you from his own self-doubt and turmoil. He wants to apologize, wants to beg for your forgiveness, but he’s too afraid that the damage is irreparable, that he’s already lost you.

Megumi! Who is haunted by the memory of your last conversation—the one where he pushed you away in a moment of panic and fear, certain that it was the only way to protect you. The words still echo in his mind, and each time he sees you, that same terror rises in his chest. He wants to fix things, to show you that he cares, but he’s too afraid that he’s too broken, that there’s no coming back from what he’s done.

Megumi! Who stays up at night, torn between his regret and his fear of losing you. The emotional weight is unbearable. He feels your absence like a hollow ache in his chest, knowing he’s the one who caused it. He watches as you pack up your things, and something inside him shatters. He realizes, too late, that he’s pushed you to the brink of leaving, and that the walls he’s built around himself might be the very thing that costs him your love. The thought that you might walk away for good is too much to bear, and it breaks him to know that, in his attempt to protect you, he might have destroyed everything that mattered.

≿————-　ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🌷་༘࿐　————-≾

[dekariosclan]

Idk if this has been done before (apologies if it has), but do you have any thoughts on how our Wizard™️ might act/feel towards a plus size or chubby Tav? Like before or during the relationship?

No worries, anon! I have answered a similar ask about this, but I think your question is different enough to warrant a separate answer.

First and most importantly, I am 100% certain that Gale would love a plus size or chubby Tav the same as he would any other Tav. No question, no argument. And I can confidently say that because of the Mindflayer Tav romance ending, where Gale says this line:

Gale: “Your present condition is that you’re the one I love. And your current form is merely a reflection of the depths of your sacrifice. It only makes me love you more.”

There is simply no way that Gale—a man who can look at his beloved in Mindflayer form and proclaim his heartfelt adoration—would have any negative feelings about Tav being plus-sized, regardless of whether or not society deems it ‘undesirable’.

Here’s a quick rundown of how a romanced Gale would react to Tav in different scenarios:

Has Tav gained weight in a way that they are unhappy with?

Gale: “Your present condition is that you’re the one I love. And your current form is perfect. Every day that I am blessed by your beauty only makes me love you more.”

Does Tav have stretch marks, rolls, scars or other physical ‘imperfections’ they are insecure about?

Gale: “Your present condition is that you’re the one I love. And your current form is perfect. Every day that I am blessed by your beauty only makes me love you more.”

Has Tav expressed insecurity or self-loathing towards their size or how they look?

Gale: “Your present condition is that you’re the one I love. And your current form is perfect. Every day that I am blessed by your beauty only makes me love you more.”

And so on.

(Note: I do not cover God Gale in these scenarios because the question stated ‘Wizard’ Gale, but you can bet your ass God Gale would also love & worship a plus-size Tav.)

Now, there’s a key point I made in my previous answer that I also need to include here:

I do want to clarify—Gale does still recognize and appreciate the physical aspects of his beloved. Very much so, obviously, with his practiced tongue, his appreciation for Tav’s glistening muscles, and his (definitely thirsty) comment on Illithid Tav’s ‘moist tentacles.’

But all that’s a bonus in his eyes. That’s the result of his love for Tav; it’s not what made him fall in love with Tav to begin with.

So now we get to the *fun* part. Where plus-size Tav gets to turn Gale’s intelligent mind to jelly and send him directly to horny jail. Where Tav gets to torment the man who famously said, ‘You look…comfortable. What’s on your hind?—I MEAN MIND.’

Maybe Gale fantasizes about the way Tav’s hair flows over their curvaceous body; maybe Gale is driven wild over Tav’s soft tum. But my own personal HC is that Gale would be a thigh man—and the bigger they are, the better. On a plus-size Tav they’re the absolute perfect pillow for his head, he wants to live there, he has trouble keeping his eyes off them, etc.

If Tav wears armor that happens to show off a lot of leg, it’s going to be a hard bad time for Gale. He will be distracted in battle. There will be epic Freudian slips.

And if Tav wears the Wavemother robe or a similar thigh-enhancing outfit? Gods have mercy. Gale will have difficulty speaking coherently and difficulty walking. His face will be flushed at all times. After battle he will, ah, need to speak to Tav most urgently—now, please, if at all possible. Right now. In his tent. For a conversation. Please.

My point is this: Gale falls in love with Tav via their kindness towards him and their good heart, not via Tav’s physical features. But once Gale has fallen for Tav, and he truly takes the time to appreciate Tav physically?

It only makes him love Tav more.

[bucked-it-up]

806 felt so completely disjointed to me. all the bucktommy scenes we got leading up to that last one were happy; them on a date, Buck realising that 'oh maybe I do love him', Tommy looking so happy to see him at the beginning of that end scene, and then... flipping to that breakup, out of nowhere, with no context or reasoning or foreshadowing at all...

not to mention the RAMPANT biphobia throughout the episode (Maddie's commentary about Abby "turning men gay" and telling Josh that "buck slept with Tommy's fiance" (insinuating that Buck - the ONLY BISEXUAL ON THE SHOW - cheated/helped Abby cheat), Tommy's breakup speech including things like Buck not knowing what he wants (right after Buck made it very clear that he DOES actually know what he wants) because Tommy's his "first, not your last" and utterly dismissing what Buck had to say about that whole situation.

Yes it can be read as Tommy getting spooked by Buck going 0-100 on the moving in thing, IF Tommy hadn't already stayed after Buck went 0-100 "come with me to my sister's wedding" on their SECOND DATE. It can be read as Tommy having baggage and self-sabotaging before he can get hurt, IF there had been any threads of that being dropped throughout the episode prior to that moment.

in the end it really felt like "oh Tommy just remembered his boyfriend isn't Fully Gay, so there's a Chance that Buck will leave/cheat/break Tommy's heart to be with a woman again so we'll just cut this off now" and that... that is a slap in the face.

and now that Lou has not been asked to return for the rest of season 8, it looks like we're not going to get any kind of closure on this, and Oliver wants to go back to the good ol fuckboi Buck days (that NONE OF US have missed or want to see again) after spending MONTHS talking about how badly he wants Buck to settle down and find his person and be at ease with himself etc. after MONTHS of promising to do this storyline justice, it was an ACTIVE CHOICE to take this route and take it in the most biphobic, stereotypical, cruelest way possible.

I'm done with it. I'll take spoilers on the rest of the season to keep up with the ensemble but I find that I can't trust Tim Minear or Oliver Stark to do Buck justice anymore.

they should have picked some random new guy for this role if this was how they wanted to play the story out. not Tommy. not Lou. he didn't deserve any of this or any of the hate he got for just trying to put his heart into his work.

911 is no longer a comfort show. what was the goal here? to remind us that queer men don't get to be happy? what was the point? I'm heartbroken. I'm angry. I just. I'm tired.

I agree with all of this, also in a way I'm angry that as fans we went through so much shit fighting for this relationship and they couldn't even end it respectfully.

I'm just tired. And I don't know what to think. It was meant to be a rom com. This doesn't feel like that.

[ssentimentals]

Hi again so quickly!!😅 i forgot to clarify 5+18 under the soft prompts!

hi amore! thank you for requesting 💜 hopefully you'll like it!

fluff prompts: 'i need to go but- one more kiss' 'i love your lips'. 'why don't you kiss them then?'

the thing about soonyoung that a lot of people find a bit annoying is his obvious love for pda. it used to make him sad at first with having to restrict himself and withdraw when all he wants is to smother another person with love, but then he understood that he can save all of his love for people who are you going to appreciate his affectionate and touchy-feely nature. like you, for example.

he sighs in satisfaction, when you hug him back just as tight, when you relish in his doting nature and show off your caring side. you two are standing in the middle of the sidewalk, which is not very convinient for other people, but soonyoung doesn't care about other people when you're in his arms, smelling all delicious and being all soft and cuddly. his lips pepper your hair with kisses before he moves down, on your forehead, on your nose, moves left and right to not miss your cheeks. your responding giggles make his heart melt.

'i love you,' he mumbles in between kisses. 'love your forehead, love your temples, love your nose, love your cheeks, love your lips-'

'why don't you kiss them then?' you interrupt, wiggling your eyebrows suggestively. 'when will i get my 'have a good day at work' kiss, hm?'

soonyoung's heart grows tenfold at this. at your reassurance that you want this just as much as he does, that you are not embarrassed of him at all. he leans in and kisses you soundly, fully, grasping your face in his hands to not let you move or get away. not like you even planned to do so, judging by how you press closer, burying yourself deeper into him, his warmth. god, soonyoung loves you for this.

'i gotta go,' you whisper, leaning back. 'and you need to go too.'

'mhm.' soonyoung doesn't let you go, grinning. 'let's stay like that a bit more.'

some people are very loudly expressing their anger on you two blocking the passage, but soonyoung doesn't care. your smiling face is right in front of him, why would he even think of anything else?

'i need to go but - one more kiss,' you say, standing on tiptoes to press your lips on his. 'okay, that's it, i really gotta run.'

'that wasn't even a proper kiss,' soonyoung grumbles and receives one more peck from you.

'go!' you usher him to move, laughing when he just stays rooted, waiting for you to come inside the building. 'see you soon, babe!'

'i'll pick you up!' soonyoung shouts back, waving. 'i love you!'

you show him finger heart and rush back to the building, already late. his phone pings with 'i love you too!!' message from you in the next second and he grins widely. yeah, it's gonna be a good day.

a/n: request your own here! <3 - nini

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

helloooo!! I absolutely adore your works puts me to sleep with a great bag ass smile on my face! Can you please write about the moon boys where the reader is a complete bimbo/ fashion fanatic showing off her newly bought clothes and accessories to them

I hope this is okay! I'm not so good with bimbo reader, so this is a lot more like reader that likes fashion. <3

Moon Boys x gn!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • buy me a coffee? • ask-travaganza masterlist •

Warnings: Fluff, silliness, a little mention of masturbating in (semi)public, not beta read, please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 712

Steven Grant

Is super interested in your love of fashion because you are interested in it. Literally loves to listen to you talk about it for hours and will not get bored. Asks lots of questions and gets so happy when you excitedly tell him the answers. 

Loves going shopping with you, will give you his honest opinion on everything, even if he disagrees. “That’s awful love.” “I like it.” “Well then get it, of course, it’ll look beautiful on you, but it is hideous.” Pulls faces to make you laugh. The only thing he’ll really grumble about is if you wear clothing that feels bad (sensory wise) for him, but he’ll do it in a jokey way.

“You know where this would look better, love?” “On your bedroom floor?” “No, in the bin.” 

Is happy for you to suggest some clothing choices for him, but he won’t change his style/comfort, he’s very content to be himself. However, he does adore it when you buy him clothing because you always make sure it’s something he would like and it makes his heart so full that you put in so much time and consideration for him. (When he expresses this and you tell him, ‘duh, of course, I love you silly!’ you are getting 1000 kisses. No other option.) 

Really likes it when you try on sexy outfits in changing rooms and send him photos. (This has led to him asking you to touch yourself and send him a video while you do it.)

Marc Spector

Gets a little nervous sometimes if he comes with you shopping in person, this depends on if the shop is very busy/the lights are really bright and overwhelming. It’s difficult to let when he gets overstimulated, because Marc masks a lot and has done so for a very long time. Plus, even if you’ve told him you want him to tell you, he doesn’t want to ruin your fun. 

Also likes it when you buy him clothes, always washes them before he wears them and usually asks you to wear them/lay on them before he puts them on so that they smell like you.

Don’t tell you if he hates something, tries to be so polite, but you can tell because he does a little ‘oh’ face with raised eyebrows before he gets his expression back under control. 

Surprisingly, really loves bright colours. Doesn’t tend to wear them much himself, but is always drawn to them. Really loves whatever personal style you have (bright or dark colours, he doesn’t care, you look amazing no matter what.) and will try really hard to point things out/show you what he thinks you’ll like/fits with your vibe.

Really likes watching shows about fashion with you, gets very invested in The Great British Sewing Bee.

Jake Lockley

Has so much fun going clothes shopping (in person or online) with you and having a massive try on montage. Literally flings the curtains open so dramatically. Will try on anything for the thrill of it. 

Quite often you both have a silly day where you try to dress as each other, this has led to some very realistic interpretations and some utterly chaotic ones. 

If he’s annoyed with you he will find the most eye watering outfit in the universe and wear it, saying ‘It’s the height of fashion’. 

His favourite t-shirt to sleep in is one with grammatically incorrect spanish on it that he found in a charity shop and thought it was hilarious. You cannot get him to part with it for love or money, even though it is falling apart and he has fixed it many times. (You don’t actually want him to get rid of it, but it’s become a fun little teasing game both of you play with each other.)

I’ve said many times that I headcanon Jake as a knitter, (because he is (joking)), I think he would happily knit with you/teach you if you wanted/didn’t know how to. He’ll also happily make you lots of clothes and accessories as gifts. However, it took him a long, long time to ever make and give you a jumper because of the knitter's curse and he just got so paranoid about it.

Thank you for reading!

@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @whatthefishh

@romanarose @strangerhands @saturn-rings-writes ho

@steven-grants-world  @eyelessfaces @angel-of-the-moons @minigirl87 @lunar-ghoulie

@silvernight-m @autismsupermusicalassassin  @reallyrallyauthor @basicalyrandom

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@pygmi-cygni @hammerhead96 @emma23 @sub-aro @killerdollz

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@iolaussharpe-24 @chaithetics @DowBaStan @faretheeoscar@lonelyisamyw-0love 

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@have-you-seen-my-sanity @to-be-a-sunshine @blushingrn @missdictatorme @musicalnacho

@soft-girl-musings @hammerhead96 @emma23 @sub-aro @killerdollz

@mwltwo @loonymagizoologist @dameronshandholder @queerly-anxious

@homuraak3mi @swiftiegirliepop @oscarssimp @milkypompon @eternallyvenus 

@mandytrekkie @novarosewood @pygmi-cygni @purple-amaranthe @amasdaydream

@i-have-all-these-freakin-uwus @casa-boiardi @bookoffracturedescapes @pigeonmama

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