#I took up all the space with freckles lol

[pickle-the-lad]

So I'm still very much in the "getting to know my characters" phase of writing, and I think I finally figured out her gender💖🏳️‍��� *joyful squeaks*

So for a refresher: here is zer character board

I've known that 🐉's xenogender the whole time, but just couldn't figure out what kind, until now!

Cosmosgender:

And this one...

Okay, I need help finding the label name: this is a xenogender that is "like looking through a telescope and feeling at one with space." If this already exists with a flag, please let me know♡

✨️ and I finally made my own Art of them!!✨️

He has Freckles, beauty marks, and Hypomelanosis. Dyes sins beard and eyebrows green and head hair bi, and is just enjoying being faerself!

I haven't decided if those two lines on its nose is scars or makeup... either way it's very gender of them lol

Ae has a right eyebrow piercing, 2 Helixs on the left and 5 on the right, two lobe piercings on each ear, and a lower navel piercing.

[ghostgirl101]

Imagine if Paul Atreides claimed you as his destiny: PART Ⅰ of Ⅱ

|| Word Count: 1.5K || Angst → Fluff ||

A/N: I had this as a big idea that I had to get down before the basic headcanons and stuff, so here's my take on our Lisan al Gaib 😎 if you like this then hit me up for some relationship headcanons and the like, I'm up for it all. Enjoy reading or watching the movie if you haven't already - I'm going again lol, and screen X is the best way to experience it fr Also I feel like I should write a second part to this lmao, if you liked what you read?

You weren't one for dreams of destiny.

The dreams you had seemed meaningless, confusing, nothing to do with what ifs and what could. Not like his.

But you always seemed to feel some kind of atmosphere, an aura you couldn't quite shake off, even when you woke up from the darkness. There was no face to go with the voice, the voice in the dark that called to you in whispers that you didn't understand. Beautiful words that weren't yours, but sounded so soft and gentle and powerful, as they reached out to you from distant lands.

You could never place them, pin them down and study them, understand them, until the day the Emperor was challenged by a ghost of a lost House, thought to be dead, left to be forgotten. You stand near the Emperor and his guards and men, the Great Houses looming and listening from higher above, as the Fremen fill up the space to watch the confrontation in spirited anticipation.

The life debt was paid. The late Emperor was overthrown. The ascendancy of Paul Atreides rose and took from the throne to claim it.

His attention flicks from his eyes boring coldly into the Emperor's, to meet yours, his voice smooth and set, full of conviction and force.

"Our destiny is together. I'll take her."

Your eyes widen slightly as his words sink in, blinking through the shock and incredulity that rushes through you and makes your heart race in apprehension and wonder. Though his voice twins with your wandering dreams, you don't know whether to feel fascination and longing, or fear and cautiousness at some greater force beyond your understanding, playing out before your very eyes.

"I..." your voice falters in uncertainty and disbelief, and you try again. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me well," Paul responds with an undying, stoic certainty that's almost unnerving. "As I know you."

His eyes study you, his Spice-stained blue eyes bleeding into yours, scanning every freckle on your face and curve of your outfit. Assessing you, knowing you, ridiculous throngs of power filling his aura and projecting onto you with his intense stare. You have to fight not to shiver under it, ultimately failing.

"What of me?" is the wisest reply you can think of before the silence stretches into dangerous uncertainty.

"Everything," Paul says evenly, but there's no mistaking the challenge and determination in his tone, almost daring you to reject him, to disagree, a built-up desire of dreamt promises resolving his stand. "I choose you, as my Empress. We will rule together, over the Empire."

Scepticism and bewilderment washes over you and makes your blood heat and stir, retreating into silence as he takes a step closer to you, gazing at you as if you're the most curious, exotic being he's ever seen.

Desire threatens to override Paul Atreides' reason, clinging onto the hope and chance of a narrow way through to light, a light that could only be sought out with you by his side. Without you, there was nothing in sight but pools of blood replacing luscious marine life and oceans running through Arrakis, disarray and disillusion at every turn and infecting every heart.

You were absolutely perfect.

And you were already his, long before this moment, before you and he were born into the world and named. There was no manipulation needed, because everything was laid out for him to take, welcoming him to rule and grow higher and higher. Fate had bonded you and strung you along to here and now, and as you blink up into his bright eyes that narrow slightly at you, frowning softly as if you hadn't understood his demand.

"Do you know what I am?"

You pause for a moment, speaking slowly and cautiously, as the crowd of Fremen and the wary, late Emperor watch on in tense wordlessness. "You are Leto Atreides' son. Former Duke of Caladan."

"What I am," Paul repeats evenly, "not who I am." He stares at you in silence for another beat, before speaking up again. "Do you know of the Bene Gesserit?"

You stop yourself from glancing in Lady Jessica's direction just in time; the runes patterning her skin, her once soft eyes now spiked with an unfamiliar darkness of ages past. Anyone could get trapped in her watchful glare, and her son's holds almost as much intensity.

"No," you decide on hesitantly.

"Kwisatz Hederach," he adds, taking another step forward until you can feel his breath tickling your cheeks, standing above you with unspoken grace and vigor. "I see the future. A part of me is the future."

His hand is suddenly squeezing yours warmly and tightly, making you flinch slightly and glance down at them before looking back up at him.

"In this future, I am with you."

All you can do is stare at him in awe and wariness, not knowing whether to let your curiosity guide you, or distance yourself as far as possible from the boy who reigns over the dunes.

"Why?" you whisper, the crowds seeming to fade around you as you focus on the boy in front of you, his fingers tangling with yours boldly.

"I've seen it," Paul insists, his tone a touch softer in thought and wistfulness. "All of it. When I am with you..." His grip tightens over yours, the fire in his eyes returning. "We're unstoppable."

"And..." your words dry before you can speak them, and you will yourself to go on, unable to break away from the deep blue hues of his gaze. "And without?"

His jaw visibly clenches at your question, and his hand drops yours, shaking his head only answer as he glances away in slight frustration.

"You don't have the leisure of choice. It's all been made for you, written in the sands and stars, and what you need to do is walk in its path. I will show you the way. You have no other. Do you understand?"

The firmness is strong in his words and glare, making you look away from him too, still in a slight stun over the rush of events. In less than a day, your freedom has been stripped to this young man's desires and destiny, entwined with yours. You, who barely knew him until now, only familiar with his voice, his words, that echoed and rang in your head like a lullaby.

But this feels so harsh and strict. The eyes of the former Emporer linger between the two of you, and Paul's army of Fremen stand behind him attentively, some gazing at you in admiration and hope, of their messiah's promised bride. And she is beautiful.

"That's unfair."

"The future is unfair," Paul says calmly, his collected, cool tone wavering for a moment. "But it will be so much worse without you by my side, and I will not accept that. Not for my people... not for myself."

You stare at him in fascination and caution, lost for words. His fingers rise to brush against the skin of your cheek, sending tingles in their wake and making you fight back the automatic reaction, your eyes following his surprisingly gentle touch. Two fingers trace down the shape of your cheek down to your chin, tilting your head slightly upwards. Just one step closer, and your lips would be touching too.

"Name anything," he murmurs to you, the Fremen straining to hear his voice as it reaches you effortlessly, his expression earnest and determined. "Anything. And it is yours. Only if you willingly wed me in turn. Not as a concubine, nor a mistress."

You blink, then blink again, taken aback as a million thoughts and suggestions race through your mind and make your head spin for a split second. You glance at the elder Emperor, who gazes back at you and the infamous Lisan al Gaib wearily, his eyes clouded with sombreness and light spite.

"I... I don't," you shake your head, overwhelmed by an impossible choice. "I don't know..."

Paul's expression softens into a smile you haven't seen before, one that makes your cheeks flush with colour as you watch him; a gentle, amused smile that's somehow familiar and unfamiliar all at once, one meant just for you, as he disregards his surroundings.

"You will know," he replies quietly, "and I will have you, and protect you, rule with you. Love you. As I am meant to."

Paul suddenly brings you closer, pulling you into a searing kiss without warning. The exotic, earthy taste of the Spice on his tongue floods your senses and sends shudders of ecstasy and heat coursing under your skin and hushing the myriad of thoughts buzzing in your mind in an instant.

When he pulls away, all too soon, you find yourself chasing his lips before you catch yourself, and Paul gives you another soft smile, his forehead resting against yours as your eyes lock.

"And as I long to," he finishes against your lips, his words grounded with a look of protectiveness and desire that makes you instinctively relax further in his hold.

⊹⊹⊹

From beyond you both, his mother smiles slightly at the scene, a hand hovering over her rounded stomach.

The first step has been made.

══════════════⊹⊱≼ part two coming soon ≽⊰⊹══════════════

[spacedace]

Reluctant War AU Part 4

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Everything I know about Flash and the FlashFam (& Flash enemies) comes from fandom and theflashmuseum on tiktok so fair warning on that lol

Sorry if Barry is out of character or things don't line up with canon. Canon is a stranger I think I passed in a crowded room once, I did not ask for its number lol

Anyway, time to touch a bit more on that whole Ancient of the Speedforce Elle thing yeah? Here be a sprinkle more of that and I promise there's more to come haha

Gonna start posting this on Ao3 soon, probably Monday or Tuesday, so heads up I may stop adding these parts here on tumblr once I do

---

It lived beneath his skin.

For a long time Barry had never believed in magic. His world was grounded, scientific, made of predictable rules and laws. Tools that could be used to explain everything strange or supernatural away as just another odd twist of the massive universe they all belonged to.

It took perhaps a little longer than it should have to admit that magic was as real as thermodynamics and gravity and atoms. That the world was a great deal stranger than even science - for all its own wildness at times - could account for. There were things that went bump in the night. Hells below and heavens above and things that crawled and clawed their way out from the places in between.

It was almost a little embarrassing how long it had taken him to admit to such things, when considering his relationship with the Speedforce.

A force of the universe. Like gravity or time, pushing and pulling everything along. Something that could be explained with all the familiar scientific concepts that had buoyed him along in life for so long.

Except.

Except.

Buzzing, burning, blistering. Not painful but felt. Making his hair stand on end, his fingers tingle and numb. Sliding against his veins, bouncing between scar tissue and freckles. Pressing out from the confines of his sternum, rattling against his rib cage as it shifted and moved. Twining around each and every vertebrae. Coiling over and under itself within his skull, darting along the paths of his neurons and nerves. It hummed in every cell in his body. Darted and danced in the space between the atoms that made up his very existence.

The Speedforce lived beneath his skin.

Lived.

Not existed. Not contained. Lived.

He couched it in terms of science, but science - despite his long time refusal to acknowledge it - wasn’t really able to explain the full scope of what he could feel. Not just the power of the Speedforce, but the…the identity of it. The living part that made it’s home in his body, existing in a way that was separate from him. Distant and indistinct most of the time, but…sentient.

He could feel it. Warm and excitable, delighting every time he tapped into it. Pushing him from behind urging him on and on, tugging him forward from ahead beckoning to go, faster, faster. Joyful in his victories, despairing in his loses.

It lived beneath his skin.

Until it didn’t.

He followed its joyful calls, pushed beyond what he should, what he knew was safe. Chasing that welcoming chant of faster, faster until he was there. In the Speedforce. More even, was the Speedforce.

He was everywhere. Beyond everywhere. In every possible everywhere it was possible to be. Every world, every universe, every multiverse.

To enter the Speedforce, to merge with it, was to become part of existence itself.

He couldn’t remember everything about it once he came back. He got flashes, sometimes, quick moments in dreams of places, of moments. What stuck with him most had been the feeling of it all. That had been the hardest part of returning. The sense of terrible loss, of having been surrounded by such a giddy, delighted, devoted love only to be pulled back from the heart of it. Returned to how he had been before, drifting at the edge of it all, it had been painful, agonizing even.

He…adapted, eventually. The sense of it all was still there, just distant. Something he’d come to feel he’d see again, someday.

It had been different, recently.

His powers were the same, he just as fast as ever, but…there was something…off. Changed. A sense that while his speed remained, the Speedforce had become, for lack of a better word, quiet. Distant.

He’d been having dreams, since it started. Not the quick glimpses of his time where he’d merged with the Speedforce. No, instead they were more nightmarish. Not nightmares exactly, though he felt like they should be with what they contained, but something else. Something that felt unnervingly real, left him confused and reeling when he woke with the certainty that when he opened his eyes he’d see the same as what his dreams held.

In the dream, he was in a room.

Cement and metal, hostile and brutalistic in design. He was bound in place, standing upright with feet and hands spread wide and locked in place within strange devices. Gleaming chrome and brilliant green, a painful thrum of energy surging through his body - not the Speedforce, something else, deeply unpleasant pulsing through every cell of his being and freezing him in place more firmly then the restraints did. Projectors hung from the ceiling, displaying images of landscapes, changing every ten second or so.

The sight of them made him nauseous, body shivering and spasming with the burning, agonizing need to go, but at the same time there was something distantly soothed by them too. Like a gnawing hunger abated with water and crumbs. The need for food not gone but the pangs diminished by the false feeling of being full.

In the dream he felt like he was dying.

In the dream he was afraid that maybe he couldn’t.

That he’d be trapped alive in that state forever, watching places he’d never see in person again as he was trapped in one place. His mind spiraling his Core splintering under the weight of it all, scared so scared. He wanted his brother, wanted to see the cement walls explode into dust and debris and see him there, ready to save the day like he had so many times before.

He just had to wait. His brother was looking for him, would have everyone in the Realms looking for him. He just had to hold on.

Barry didn’t have a brother. He only remembered when he woke, heart hammering in his chest fast even by his own standards, mouth tasting of bile and body aching with the need to go.

He hadn’t been sleeping much these days, even before the King of the Dead declared war.

It was having its effects, as sleep deprivation always did. His mind drifting, catching again and again on the dream, attention far away from the world around him. How many times had he been startled by someone calling his name, touching his arm? How many times had they given him a pinched, worried look that told him they’d been trying to reach him for longer than they should have before he noticed.

He was aware, distantly, of the glowering, stern faces around him. The flinty looks of his friends’ and partners’ eyes as they stared at the image of Waller’s scowling mug.

She’d declined an in-person meeting, hunkering down in some bunker somewhere trying to avoid the consequences of her latest atrocities. Or maybe just trying to avoid the very real possibility that one of the members of JL Dark might try to kill her for what she’s caused.

Or JL light, for that matter.

Bruce and Clark had their rules that they lived by, but Diana certainly wouldn’t hesitate to splatter Waller’s brains across the nearest available wall. In reviewing footage of one of the last battles - she’d been at the other one at the time, trying to contend with a ghost in the shape of an ethereal dragon - she’d recognized the spectral figures of Amazons long dead, fierce even in death as they fought with a warrior’s pride along side the rest of Phantom’s armies. They followed a figure that towered even above the Amazons, four arms and gleaming armor and a name that Barry associated with ruin and forgotten hope but who was so much more to Diana. Heroes long departed to the fields of Elysium, stepping out of their well earned rest to fight once more.

A few hadn’t survived the weapons the GIW shot them with. Barry didn’t know what that meant, for a ghost to die. If they simply returned to their afterlife or -

He tried not to think about the or.

They’d been going back and forth for awhile now. Voices faraway, muffled. The world felt as if it was underwater, blurred and cold. Clark had gotten to his feet at some point, Waller’s grip on a pen so tight on the screen he expected to see if burst at any moment. It was an important meeting, an important discussion. One he needed to be apart of, aware of, but it all escaped him. Sand held too tightly, slipping through his fingers. On the screen, Waller hit a button on the computer beside her and the image changed.

The world burned back to life in sharp relief.

The dream.

The room.

Cold cement. Projections of unreachable places on the walls. Chrome and green machinery in a configuration meant to contain.

It looked larger on the screen.

Maybe it was how small the figure held prisoner inside it was.

She was young. A child, no older than Superboy Jr. or Robin. She looked like Phantom - her father - but there were differences. Her hair was white, but it didn’t look like the spun starlight of her father’s. Instead it burned, the bright hot crackling of the plasma of a lighting bolt striking. Skin the blur of shapes caught just at the corner of the eye as you ran past, Eyes -

Looking at him.

The image had come up, a live feed - he knew it was live, knew he was looking at her where she was at that exact moment - and she’d been as he was every time he tried to sleep. Trembling and shuttering, eyes squinting against the pain, trying to stay open so as not to miss a single moment of the flat images imposed on blank cement walls. Desperate to fill the fathomless hunger burning deep down in the Core of her.

But then a shuttering breath and her eyes - the burning green of an afterimage - snapped up to the camera. Snapped up to look at him, recognition in her young face. And despite never having seen this girl before, he recognized her too.

The Speedforce lived beneath his skin.

She lived beneath his skin.

He could feel her there. Buzzing, burning, blistering. Not painful, but felt.

Not as felt as she used to be.

The image snapped back to Waller’s face, smug and self-satisfied. Talking - lying - about the how the girl was there, what the GIW’s intentions for her were. Barry was on his feet, but so was everyone else. He couldn’t hear what they were saying, could only hear static, the rush of wind, the crack of the lightning bolt. A call for help.

It was then that the alarms began to blare. On the screen someone rushed in to whisper into Waller’s ear. Bruce was running out of the room towards the Zeta tubes and Barry was right there with him and there was so much chaos around them, men in white and Gothamites and Ghosts banding together to rain terror down upon them and something massive and horrible and living towering above it all and Barry let go of that last bits of logic and thought.

Instinct, older than he was. The echo of a voice that had called him for years now, carrying him along, biding him forward:

Run.

Someone might have shouted after him as he left Gotham behind. He didn’t know.

All he knew was the pounding of his feet upon the ground, the wind in his face, the Speedforce lashing and frantic and hopeful burning and sizzling beneath his skin. Calling him further and further away until he stood in a vast, empty field staring at a single, rusted shack near ready to collapse before him.

He wasn’t alone.

Wally. Bart. Max. More still. Not just his family and friends. Eobard. Hunter. Thaddeus. Everyone touched by the Speedforce.

They didn’t speak. Bodies humming and thrumming, crackling with energy and intent.

Minds as one, they focused on the shed, the hidden hatch inside, the base hidden deep below.

The Speedforce lived beneath their skin, and no one was going to steal it away from them.

[moonchild9350]

Your Sweet Angel

Summary: Your days are long, you’re a mess, your mind all over the place. But things can change with the help of an angel, a light in your dark life.

Pairing: fantasy au Felix x fab reader

Genre: smut 18+MDNI

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: dubcon I guess? I mean consent is given eventually ha. Coercion, nipple play, p in v penetration, creampie (don’t), mystical being?, stalkish. Let me know if I missed anythingl

Notes: idk where this came from lol. The thoughts that run through my mind late at night when I should be sleeping. I just had to write it down lol. This is lightly edited so please excuse any typos!

If you like let me know! Likes, comments, reblog always appreciated ♡

Please do not copy, translate, modify, use, or repost this work elsewhere without my permission. ©moonchild9350 (2024)

It was a difficult day, from the moment your day began. You overslept, the traffic caused your head to hurt, your coworkers testing your patience. Yeah, it’s definitely been a tough day.

To clear your mind you decided to take a walk, breathing in the cool, night air, the moon shining brightly in the sky, the stars illuminating your path. You walked and walked, humming a random song to yourself, your hands in your pockets.

Before you knew it, you found yourself at the park, darkness settling in, with the glow of the lamps providing a soft light. You decided to walk through, safety be damned, you didn’t care about anything at this point.

You made your way along the path, your mind clearing more and more with each step. However, about half way through, you heard a voice. The voice was singing, the song ethereal in the night air.

Looking up you saw a man sitting on the ledge of one of the walls lining the pathway. He was gorgeous, angelic almost in the lightening. He seemed to be swaying with the music only he could hear. You looked closer and noticed his eyes were closed, a soft smile spread across his face.

You stepped up to him and just watched and listened, enjoying his voice and the serenity of the moment. Eventually the song must have finished, because he stopped swaying and opened his eyes, the dark orbs finding yours in the darkness

He smiled, the action traveling to his eyes, as he beckoned you forward with his tiny hands. You shouldn’t go near him, the alarms in your head going off, but you couldn’t help it. You slowly made your way to the mysterious man, stopping before him.

You were able to take in his face more and how beautiful was it. His eyes looked up at you with such softness, freckles littering his face.

“Hi, I’m Felix,” the man said.

You were nervous, your voice stuck in your throat. You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. You blushed in embarrassment, your eyes falling to your feet. Why were you still here? You were definitely ignoring all thoughts of stranger danger, but you couldn’t move. It felt like you were under a spell.

“Don’t be shy,” Felix said, flashing his soft smile again.

“I’m…I’m y/n.”

“Hi y/n,” he said. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

At his words you looked up, confusion on your face.

“You’ve been waiting for me?” You asked, cocking your head to the side.

“Mmhmm, I have.” Felix said. “And now you’re here. Let’s go, we have no time to waste, time is running out.”

You were confused by his words. Time is running out? What does that mean? However, you didn't get no other explanation. Instead, Felix reached out his hand to you, beckoning you to take it.

You hesitated for a moment, but after a few moments, felt calm, and took his hand in yours. Felix smiled his warm smile once more and gave your hand a squeeze. You blinked and before you knew it, you were in a different location.

You were shocked so to say. You were just at the park, outside at that, but now you were in a little room. Startled you looked around, taking in your surroundings. You noticed there was a soft light bathing the room, not enough to light the whole space, but enough to see your way around.

There was a bed in the middle of the room, the sheets seeming inviting and warm. Felix watched your every move, taking in your beauty. He has been waiting for you and here you are, in the flesh.

You saw Felix step to you in the corner of your eyes, a calming sensation falling over you. Felix brushed his hand across your cheek, his fingers light and delicate on your skin.

“Let’s go to bed love,” he said, his voice deeper than it had been.

You nodded your head, following the strange man to the bed. He looked you in the eyes and smiled before gently pushing you back, causing you to lay down. You sighed as the soft sheets hit your back, the feeling heavenly.

Looking above you, you watched as Felix hovered above you before leaning down and pressing a kiss to your lips. You were shocked at first before you relaxed, more of that calming sensation washing over you.

You met his lips again and again, his soft lips molding perfectly with yours. Before you knew it you had your hands wrapped around his neck, pulling the strange man ever closer to you.

He grinned against your lips. “Let me take care of you love. I’ve been waiting so long for this moment.”

You nodded your head yes, wanting…no needing more of this man. You pressed your lips against his in one moment and the next you felt his warm skin against yours, as both his and your clothes were gone.

That shocked you a little, a question forming on your lips. Felix seemed to see your internal struggle and pulled you closer, as he pressed more sweet kisses along your cheek, your jaw, and moving down to your chest.

Your question was forgotten as you felt his warm mouth wrap around your nipple. You cried out as he licked and nipped the sensitive bud as he gently caressed your other breast. Your pleasure felt heightened more than usual, causing you to cry out, your slick gushing out of your pussy.

Felix was happy, listening to your cries of pleasure, happy he could satisfy you. He’s waited so long after all, carefully watching you, waiting for the perfect moment. He couldn’t wait, not a moment more.

You felt Felix shift, as he sat up and parted your legs wider, spreading them so he could see you better. He smiled down at you, his freckles dancing with each pull of skin, making him seem more beautiful then ever.

“Ready love?” He asked, grabbing his cock in his hands, stroking the hard member.

You gulped, unsure of when he became naked, his beautiful body bared for your viewing pleasure. You nodded your head without thought, your body seeming to work on autopilot.

Felix grinned before pushing his cock into your warm walls, stretching you out with each inch. You gasped at the sensation, never feeling more full in your life. You moaned in pleasure as he rocked against you, his hair falling onto his face, obscuring his beautiful features.

You reached up as he thrust into you, brushing his hair out of the way and grasping his face. You stared into his eyes as he brought you to ecstasy, his cock hitting all the right spots within you. You took in every expression, every detail of the man above you, watching as his eyebrows scrunched up with each thrust, his grunts getting more pronounced as time went on.

Little did you know, Felix was taking you in as well. He was lost in your eyes, the pleasure evident as he felt your walls wrap around his cock again and again. He reveled in your embrace, your hands delicately gripping his face. He could look at you forever, your beauty unmatched to anyone he’s come across. He wanted to make sure you felt his love, his undying love for you…even if you had no clue who is was.

As Felix continued to thrust into you, you felt a change, a subtle change. You felt a warm feeling deep within your belly. It steadily grew as moments passed, spreading to your thighs and down to your toes. Each thrust of Felix’s cock, the appendage kissing your cervix, caused your body to tingle.

Felix locked eyes with you and opened his mouth to speak. “Cum for me love, become mine.”

You let out a loud moan at his words, the warm feeling intensifying, causing your ears to ring and vision go white. Your pussy clenched around his cock, your walls fluttering as you ride out your high.

Felix was enamored with you, the sight before him everything he’s dreamed of. He let go, his warm cum painting your walls white, filling you to the brim. He leaned down to kiss you, his lips lingering on yours for a few more moments.

“Thank you love,” Felix whispered as he withdrew his now softened cock.

You felt sleepy, your eyes growing heavy as you laid bare before him, his cum seeping from your walls and onto the sheets. You couldn’t keep you eyes open, as you drifted off, the last sight you saw was Felix gazing down at you lovingly…and with a hint of sadness?

You couldn’t think, not anymore as you succumbed to sleep, your mind empty as you slumbered.

“Until next time love,” Felix said.

He knew you couldn’t hear him. He didn’t want you to, so he made sure you were calm enough to fall asleep into a deep slumber. He placed one last kiss on your forehead vowing to find you again.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

You woke with a start, your eyes wide as you set up in bed. You looked around in confusion. You were back in your room, tucked into your bed, wearing your favorite pajamas.

But wait…that can’t be right. You were with a man…right? And definitely not here in your room. Where was the man? Didn’t you sleep with him? What was his name again?

You tried hard to remember last night, but nothing came to you, your mind fuzzy. Maybe it was a dream. Yeah, definitely a dream you thought.

You got ready for the day as usual, hoping today would be better. As you made your way to work, you hummed a little song. You’d heard it recently, someone else singing it at first. You’re not sure where you heard it, but it stuck in you.

As you hummed and pulled into the parking lot, you felt calm all of a sudden. Your mind was quiet, the thoughts that usually crowd it at this time of day gone. You didn’t complain though, happy for the quiet. You walked to the doors of the building and opened them, making your way to your office.

You didn’t see the man, watching you from afar, keeping his distance. He smiled as he saw you happily walk into work. He was happy he finally was able to meet you, to be with you. Now that you’re in his grasp, he isn’t letting you go. Your his just as much as he’s yours.

He’ll visit you again, it won’t be long. Now that he has a taste of you, he can’t stay away. But that’s for another day. With the breeze of the wind, the trees swaying around him, the man disappeared, into thin air. Maybe one day he’ll get to reveal his true self to you, but until then he’ll keep visiting you, making sure you’re happy with every day that passes.

Taglist: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek @simpforleeknaur @armystay89 @palindrome969 @ivydoesit23 @amarecerasus @kaysungshine @fun-fanfics @baby-stay92

[jflemings]

— party of two

pairing: ucla!jessie fleming x ucla!reader

synopsis: jessie saves you during a frat party, forcing the two of you to confront your feelings head on

warnings: angst lol, unwanted male attention, mild homophobia, jealous!jessie, insecure jessie if you squint, the downstairs bathroom is a character of its own

a/n: i love teags and jess 🫶🏼 my bruins girls 🫶🏼 (this took an angsty turn whoops)

the stale smell of alcohol and sweat invades your senses as you shoulder through the crowded living room of the frat house. you smile politely at the people you know, squeezing past a guy you know from you psych class. his name — brendan or braeden, or something — escapes you as he turns around. the two of you are chest to chest and right in eachother’s personal space, allowing him to easily grip your shoulder and lean right down in your ear, basically leaning his cheek on your own.

his hot breath fans over the shell of your ear “i didn’t know you were coming” he shouts over the loud music, putting his hand on your shoulder as a means to get closer.

you shrug in an attempt to rid your shoulder of him “it was a last minute thing” you yell back before trying to step away from him.

he pulls away from you momentarily and smiles whilst nodding his head, allowing you to smell the vodka on his breath. his tanned hand rubs your shoulder in what you’re sure he thinks in an affectionate manner. you make the attempt to step around him to no avail and your face drops seeing that more people have managed to pack themselves into the already crowded space.

“i was thinking” he begins to say, squeezing your shoulder so you look at him. he’s not ugly, per say, and he seemed like a relatively nice guy everytime you did speak to him but you were into women. women who had freckled cheeks and curly brown hair and who got pissy everytime you scribbled on the corner of her page aimlessly.

before he can speak again he’s shoved from behind and because of his tipsy state, he doesn’t have the reflexes to stop the jungle juice in his cup from spilling all down your chest and top.

you grimace at the sticky feeling and begin to regret wearing such a revealing shirt. you can feel the alcohol drip down you collarbones and the valley of your breasts, furrowing your brows at the sticky feeling and the smell you know is going to linger for the rest of the night.

he shoves his friends blindly “i am so sorry, let me help you clean that up”

“no i’ve got it. i was just heading to the bathroom anyway” you shoot him a tight lipped smile and begin to go in the direction of the only downstairs bathroom.

he follows closely behind and pushes the bathroom door open for you quickly, watching you turn the tap on and reach for a towel. his eyebrows shoot up “let me go get you some paper towel” he says before scampering off, finally leaving you alone.

you don’t bother waiting for him and instead use the last of the toilet paper to clean yourself off. you run it under the tap and pat your chest, trying to rid your skin of the sticky feeling. you can definitely still smell it on your shirt but you’re more worried about getting away from this guy rather than what you smell like so you quickly turn on your heel and walk out of the bathroom.

“y/n!” he yells over the music, a few paper towels fluttering in his hands “did you clean up alright?”

“yeah! yeah, i’m good” you say tight lipped before jerking a thumb behind you “i’m just gonna find my friends”

he once again reaches for your shoulder “hey, y’know i was just wondering if maybe you’d let me take you on a date?” he slurs slightly, his green eyes boring into you “you’re like hot, and smart and stuff. i just wanna get to know you better” he shamelessly checks you out, his eyes hungrily taking over your form.

he’s had a fair bit to drink, that’s obvious, but you don’t even get the chance to say no before he’s talking again “people say that you like girls but, honestly, are you sure? if you’ve never been with a guy how can you be sure?”

you make a point of rolling your eyes before shrugging him off and looking around. it’s only when one of his buddies loudly catches his attention does he tear his eyes away from you, yelling back at his friend.

you beeline for the back door once his back is turned, desperate to find someone you know so that you can shake him. you search every face you pass but come up disappointed each time, sighing deeply at the thought of having to hide in a different bathroom just to get this guy to leave you alone.

the cool air hits your sweaty skin as you step outside. you sneak a glance behind you and see him pushing past a girl he seems to know so he can follow you outside and you huff. can’t he take a fucking hint?

it’s only when you hear teagan micah’s familiar boisterous laugh do you relax a little. you can clearly see the back of her head as she animatedly speaks to some people next to the bonfire, allowing you make your way to her easily.

you appear next to her silently, almost huddling next to the australian in an attempt to hide yourself. she stops mid sentence when she notices you and grins “y/n!” she yells, throwing an arm around you “i’ve been wondering where you were”

you give her a tight lipped smile and duck your head, her arm a welcomed security blanket. when you don’t answer right away she notices the almost distraught look on your face and pulls you into her side.

“what’s up?” she asks thickly

“there’s just this guy from one of my classes— he won’t leave me alone”

teagan’s face hardens and she looks over her shoulder quickly. she looks like she’s about to turn around and mouth off to the next guy that gets in her way when jessie slides up next to the two of you, her hand finding the small of your back easily.

the goalie notices the new presence and in her drunken state, doesn’t immediately see that it’s her teammate. she whips her head around, her mouth open to hand out a snarky comment, before she sees the canadian’s freckled face. “oh!” she says delighted “it’s all good, jessie’s here! that guy should leave you alone now”

she rubs your shoulder affectionately before dropping her arm. she still looks around — in a way that you’re sure she thinks is subtle — before scowling and focusing her attention back to the conversation. jessie on the other hand, is wearing a look of concern as she sits down on the dingy day bed that’s been dragged onto the lawn. her hand stays on the small of your back as she sits “what guy?” she questions quietly.

you chew on your bottom lip for a moment and she drums her fingers on your back “just this guy from one of my classes. he’s kinda been following me around”

jessie can see that you’re clearly uncomfortable and her face softens slightly. she hooks a finger in the belt loop on the back of your jeans and begins to pull you towards her “come ‘ere” she urges whilst spreading her legs.

you let her pull you into her space until you’re standing in between her legs. she keeps an arm around your hips and you place both of your hands onto her shoulders “are you okay? did he touch you?” she says as quietly as she can so she doesn’t draw unwanted attention from her teammates around you.

you shake your head and she immediately lets out a sigh, running her hand across your lower back comfortingly. just the feeling of her arm around you is enough to calm your nerves and you squeeze her shoulders in appreciation.

“sit” she says whilst guiding you into her lap.

you do as she says and settle on her thigh, tossing one leg over the other as you get comfortable. her hand doesn’t leave your waist as you wriggle slightly on her lap, looping both arms around her shoulders gently. the midfielder traces shapes on your body as she takes a sip from her solo cup, making sure to hold eye contact with you through her lashes.

jessie wasn’t an intimidating person by any means but the stare she was pinning you with now definitely made you feel the need to turn away from her. it was the type of look that made you want to do something stupid like kiss her on the mouth.

she slides her hand up your spine and holds the back of your neck whilst ducking her head in an attempt to get you to look into her eyes. “you’re awfully quiet” she teases lightly, squeezing your neck once to get your attention “got something on your mind, pretty girl?”

in an attempt to hide the blush forming on your face you lean your chin on your right arm that’s around the back of jessie’s shoulders. “no” you almost whisper. if your face wasn’t so close to jessie’s ear she probably wouldn’t have heard it which means you wouldn’t have egged her on even more.

“no?” she questions amused “you sure?” she tucks her face into the crook of your neck and breathes in deeply, making your skin prickle. she removes her face from your neck and adjusts her thigh, jolting you in a way that she knows will get your attention. when you tighten your hold around her shoulders and level her with a scowl she smiles and hums, resting her face on just below your collarbone.

she must notice the lingering smell on your chest because her brows are furrowed when she looks at you questioningly. “jungle juice” you say shortly “he spilt it on me when he was trying to make a move”

the canadian rolls her eyes “asshole” she mutters before taking another swig of her drink. she drags her hand back down the length of your back slowly and settling it on the waistband of your jeans. “who is this guy anyway. do i know him?”

you play with her baby hairs at the base of her skull absentmindedly “brendan, or braeden, i don’t know”

“mustn’t be that memorable then” jessie hums, leaning back into your hand and closing her eyes. you smirk at her reaction and tug the hair experimentally making her eyes snap back open. jessie pulls you impossibly closer to her, dragging you up her lap until your thigh is pressed against her abdomen. she looks like she’s decidedly wether or not to kiss you for a moment before ultimately making her decision and craning her neck. you thread your fingers in her hair and move just as slow towards her, wanting nothing more that to kiss her stupid.

“y/n!”

you shut your eyes tightly and sigh at the sound of your name before turning and looking over your shoulder. braeden— or brendan, you still don’t know— smiles and inserts himself into the group. jessie leans back against the thin pillows lining the back of the day bed and frowns. he can’t be fucking blind can he?

“hey…” you trail off awkwardly “what’s up?”

“you ran off, i couldn’t find you!” he answers enthusiastically, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. he must really be gone because he seems to be completely oblivious to the looks that teagan and jessie are levelling him with.

you feel jessie’s hand thats on your back travel down and rest on your bum, her other hand sliding along the denim of your thigh. “brandon” she says unamused and your eyebrows raise.

“you know him?”

brandon looks over your shoulder and seemingly sees jessie for the first time. his eyes rake over your body and linger on the position of her hand “fleming” he greets politely before turning to you “soccer. we train together sometimes” he explains as if it’s that simple, getting caught up in jessie’s stare before he looks away “sorry, i didn’t know you two were…”

“together. dating. girlfriends.” she finishes curtly for him before patting your thigh for emphasis “but now you do so it’s all good” she shrugs and smiles sweetly. you see teagan stifle a laugh behind her cup, raising her eyebrows at you suggestively once you catch her eye.

apparently brandon wasn’t the only one who didn’t know you and jessie were dating because up until now, neither of you had confronted your feelings head on let alone put a label on your situation.

brandon gives you an apologetic smile and a nod before scurrying away with his tail between his legs. jessie remains sat back and continues to stroke your thigh whilst you refuse to look at her. confusion and embarrassment bubble in your stomach and you suddenly have the urge to get off jessie’s lap and get away from her.

you pull your arms off her “i’m gonna go to the toilet” you say whilst standing “i’ll be five minutes”

the canadian immediately sits up straight and grabs your hand “you okay?” she asks you, the concern evident on her face.

“yep, just really need to pee” your response is uneasy and you shoot her a tight lipped smile before making your way back to the house. you resist the urge to look back at your apparent girlfriend, choosing to pick your nails to keep you distracted instead.

you find yourself weaving through bodies once again and breathe a sigh of relief when you see the bathroom you were in before unoccupied. you brace yourself against the counter and press a hand to your chest before turning on the tap. the water runs over your warm hands soothingly and you place a palm to your heated cheek.

you can’t recall a time when you’d seen jessie get so outwardly jealous. her naturally timid nature just didn’t allow her to be so quick to voice her distain in a situation off a soccer field. it was undeniably hot but it also left you feeling like you had been kept out of the loop. it was obvious to everyone around you that the pair of you weren’t just friends. you had bering toeing the line between friends and something more for far too long now but not once had you or jessie ever verbalised your feelings, leaving them locked up safely.

but you didn’t need verbal confirmation. you knew how jessie felt about you and she knew how you felt about her.

three knocks to the door interrupt your blurred train of thought, making you jump out of your skin “occupied!” you practically shout

“it’s me” says the voice beyond the door, the unmistakable canadian accent making your skin prickle “i just wanna talk”

stepping away from the mirror, you quickly unlock the door and go back to leaning against the counter. you close your eyes just as you hear the door open and close softly, jessie’s presence almost suffocating you in the small room.

“i shouldn’t have said that” she begins, her hand hovering over your back like she’s unsure if she can touch you. she decides against it “that wasn’t fair on you and in all honesty, i don’t really know why i said it. i think i was just so frustrated that it came out but that isn’t an excuse”

“jess” you sigh heavily, opening your eyes so you can look at her through the mirror “you know that there’s nothing to be jealous about”

jessie’s cheeks burn as she leans on the opposite wall and tucks her hands behind her back. she quickly looks down at her old worn nikes that are scuffing against the tile. “yeah” she weakly says “hey, well, i just wanted to come find you and apologise so i’ll get out of your hair”

sudden anger overtakes you. first she was going to announce in front of all your friends that the two of you were dating and now she won’t even stay and give you a proper explanation?. you shake your head and spin around quickly “jessie don’t you dare” you say sternly, making her stop in her tracks “i deserve an explanation, a real one, not some half-assed apology that you can’t even look me in the eye for”

the canadian’s shoulders sag as she turns to look at you with her hands tucked in her pockets. she looks up to the ceiling and lets out a shaky breath before looking at you “brandon and i have had issues before. about you.”

the confession shocks you. you had barely spoken to brandon besides a few short conversations and note sharing, but beyond that you didn’t know a thing about him. “about me?”

“he just… he was just being disrespectful one afternoon and we got into it, okay!?” she exclaims defensively “and he was just saying shit about you and me, and how you would never date a girl anyway so i should just leave it alone” she shrugs, casting her eyes back down to her feet “when he came over i felt like i had something to prove but i made you uncomfortable in the process. i’m so sorry”

your eyes soften and you tilt your head. tenderly you reach for her hands and pull them out of her pockets and hold them in yours “why didn’t you tell me about this?”

“because it’s embarrassing!” she stresses, looking at you with glassy eyes “the fact that i let some guy get me worked up over practically nothing is embarrassing, y/n. half of the boy’s soccer team thinks that i’m just the little gay lost puppy following a straight girl around begging for a chance.”

jessie screws her eyes shut and takes her hands out of your own “i really am sorry for telling him that we’re dating without talking to you about it. that was wrong, and i know that”

you brush a few of jessie’s stray baby hairs back and let her calm down, having worked herself up again. she blinks back tears and you take her face in your hands “i really would’ve preferred you talk to me about this jess, i had no idea that they were giving you a hard time about me”

she she begins to shake her head you hold her head more firmly “they don’t know anything, okay? they. don’t. know. anything. they have no idea how i feel about you” you assure softly, making sure to keep eye contact with her “i know we don’t say it, or hardly acknowledge it, but i really, really like you”

“i really really like you too” she all but whispers to you “i’m sorry i didn’t talk to you about it”

“make it up to me?”

jessie’s pupils blow out wide and she quickly looks between your lips and eyes, her hands finding your hips and hooking her thumbs into your belt loops. she licks her lips and swallows thickly before smashing her lips into yours.

your hands wrap around her shoulders and pull her into you even further, allowing you to walk back until you hit the counter. jessie leans into you, your mouths slotting together perfectly, and she plants her hands on either side of you body on the bathroom counter.

you can’t help but smirk and swipe your tongue along jessie’s bottom lip slowly. she parts her lips and allows you to slide your tongue into her mouth just as you wrap one of your hands in her ponytail. she hums into your mouth when she feels your hand in her hair and knocks her knee in between your thighs, separating them slightly and gaining the upper hand.

the midfielder crawls a hand up the length of your spine and hold the back of your neck whilst pressing herself impossibly closer to you.

a loud knock on the door leaves the two of you jumping out of your skins. jessie’s knee hits the cabinet below you loudly and she groans in pain “fuck”

“hurry the fuck up!” a booming voice comes from outside the door, whoever is on the other side clearly not happy with how long the only clean bathroom in the house has been occupied for.

“this bathroom is too clean to be used” jessie mumbles against you, rolling her head along your collarbone and shoulder as she straightens out her leg.

you mourn the loss off the warmth between your thighs as you let go of the girl’s ponytail “someone’s poor girlfriend is cleaning this bathroom” you grimace “she must really like him”

she lifts her head off you and your eyes are immediately drawn to her slightly swollen lips. you half smirk and run a thumb over them, collecting lip gloss that had been transferred and wiping it on your jeans “you don’t make your girlfriend clean your dirty bathroom” jessie says as she rolls her eyes “that’s just being lazy”

“so you wouldn’t make me clean your bathroom?” you ask innocently, folding your hands in front of you.

jessie’s eyebrows raise “my bathroom is already clean, thank you very much” she pointedly says “you’ve seen it, you should know”

“jessie”

“what?”

you toss your arms out beside you and give her a look of disbelief “i just gave you the perfect opportunity to ask me to be your girlfriend and you’re telling me how clean your bathroom is”

jessie opens and closes her mouth “you want to be my girlfriend?” she asks “are you sure?”

“of course i’m sure” you say softly “i thought that was obvious”

she grins wide and holds her hand out for you to take, which you do immediately, before leading you out of the bathroom and through the crowd of students. you think she’s taking you back out to the bonfire and your friends before she heads for the front door of the frat house, her grip tightening on your hand as you pass brandon and his group of friends.

you can’t help but cheekily wag your fingers at him as you pass before pressing your body right against jessie’s and wrapping a hand around her arm “where are we going?” you ask loudly into her ear

she looks at you over her shoulder with a sly smile on her face “my place. i’ve still gotta make it up to you”

[murdrdocs]

east to west | j. sully

description. when jake has you bent over in front of him with nothing but tree bark to keep you steady, you can barely remember why you were upset in the first place.

includes. SMUT 17+, very slight daddy kink, bratty!reader, fem!reader, choking (once), tail play??, jakes dick glows, they link, they’re also mated, takes place between a1 and a2, no kids, reader has a thing for vampires

a/n: hey! i still exist and i still write full fics lol. this is legit not proofread so ignore any and all mistakes plz i just needed to write something

word count: 3.0k+

There was a fire in your chest.

Its flames creeped up your throat and just lightly scraped the beginnings of your tongue. You could feel the smoke slipping up, burning your eyes and fogging your mind.

The effects were felt all over your body until you couldn’t ignore it. Yet, by the grace of Eywa, you managed to until you and Jake were alone.

Until he had you cornered against a tree and he was visually attempting to keep his glare as soft as possible. You, on the other hand, let it reign free, even hardening your gaze at one point just so he could see how upset you were.

A small disagreement was had between you two and it spiraled completely, until it brought you here: Angry with no desire to fix your attitude.

Which Jake saw.

His arms were crossed over his chest, which steadily rose and fell with calculated breaths. His tongue poked his cheek inside of his mouth. His hair, which has started to loc up, lays over his left shoulder.

Although you wouldn’t admit it, the sight of him had something stirring low in your belly. You wanted to be mad, though, not to be aroused. Instead of focusing on the glowing freckles along Jake’s skin, you thought about all of the reasons you have to be upset with him.

Seemingly understanding that you weren’t going to ease the tension first, Jake spoke.

“What’s wrong with you?”

The simple question does nothing but throw kindling to the fire. Your eyes roll, you cross your arms, and push off of the tree.

“You know what’s wrong, Jake. Stop pretending.” When you began walking away, Jake followed.

“If I knew what was wrong, I wouldn’t have asked.”

“Men are so stupid.” Your voice was low enough for the complaint to obviously have been meant for your own ears, yet loud enough to purposefully share it with Jake’s.

He scoffed. “You can’t blame me when you’re pouting and refusing to tell me what’s wrong.”

The ground was soft under your thunderous steps. In your peripheral vision, you could see how it glowed with each step you took, and you would usually take time to appreciate the sight, and thank Eywa for the life that She has given you.

Unfortunately, you can’t find it in yourself to complete such a task now.

Instead, you mumble swears that you haven’t used since you were a rebellious teenager.

Jake’s strides were longer. He caught up to you quicker than you originally expected.

His hand envelopes your wrist, effectively stopping you. You stare ahead, physically biting your tongue while Jake comes around to take up the space in your point of view.

“Talk to me. What’s wrong?” That soft tone. The way it always melts away your anger, even when you don’t want it to.

Your shoulders begin to relax, as does your tough gaze, but the forceful bite on your tongue does nothing. You lean into the tree behind you to put some space between you and Jake.

“You know what.” And you start to question if he even does, but all that thought does is make you more upset because he should know, he’s supposed to know.

Jake sighs and his hand drops from your wrist. He looks away, into the sky or at the forest surrounding you both, but then he looks at you once again.

It takes him a second to speak, but he does eventually. “If you don’t want to tell me, fine. If you want to be a brat, fine.”

The smoke burning your eyes gets stronger, the bite on your tongue gets looser.

“Dickhead.”

It takes a second for the offense to get through his thick skull, but it eventually does. You can see the way heat rises to his face when he understands. Your eyes watch the way his jaw clenches, the veins that protrude from his neck, the way he rolls his shoulders back.

Your head tilts, your eyes squint, and you smile. Because you’re finally getting what you wanted.

He pushed you this far. He pushed you until you wanted some sort of fight or aggression in return.

There’s a second where you wonder what his move is going to be, if he’s even going to make a move.

But he takes a step forward, and stretches a hand out that clasps at the back of your neck. He uses the grip to forcefully pull your lips to his and you’re delighted to taste him.

The fire in your throat moves down to your belly.

Your smirk is known as Jake devours you. He kisses you fiercely, with a ferocity that you can only attempt to reciprocate.

When he pulls away for a breath of air, punctuated with short, chaste kisses, you can’t help but tease. “I’m still pissed at you.”

Jake couldn’t care less. “We’ll talk about it in the morning.”

Your hands grip at his skin, running along the toned muscles in his shoulders, back, and abdomen. He’s practically bare against you, but you want more, you need more. You’re mewling and moaning into his mouth, the muffled sounds truly showing how riled up and needy you were. You craved nothing more than release at this moment, and you could truly only hope that you hadn’t pushed Jake to the point where he would deny you such a thing.

The way he licks into your mouth and pulls your pelvis flush into his with his free hands hints at you that by denying your own pleasure, he would be denying his as well.

You grind into his stiffening cock to speed the process along.

When Jake detaches from your mouth now, it's to kiss at your jaw and neck. He kisses you feverishly, harshly. His lips suck and his teeth nip. It’s not until the third or fourth time that you get used to the tingle of his canines scraping at your skin.

It’s a jarring thought, but you allow the fantasy of Jake sinking his teeth into you and drawing blood to come to the forefront of your mind. It’s something out of a tale told to you by the older sisters in the clan about creatures who live off of blood and can walk only after eclipse. You remember how the image kept you up at night, and how eventually you wanted someone like that to come for you.

Jake, as a dreamwalker, was possibly the closest to such a myth.

You push your chest into his when his canines graze your skin once more.

“Jake,” you whine. It’s soft, softer than the gentle breeze in the air, but the proximity is not forgiving, and Jake hears.

He chuckles, his breath hot on your already boiling skin. A single kiss is pressed at the spot he was working his mouth on before he pulls back to tilt his head in front of yours. “So now you can speak?”

You don’t say anything, instead deciding that glowering will get your message across.

“Uh uh, don’t go silent on me now.”

The hand Jake had behind your neck comes to the front and rests at the base of your throat, his palm flat against the insides of your collarbones and his fingers resting at a place where they can easily crawl up if need be. His other hand, meanwhile, comes around to the side where his fingers play with your loincloth.

Jake’s wide eyes watches your face as he teases the string, sliding it down your leg only to leave it there and not do anything about it.

Your next sound is a grunt, wordless, yet still showing your frustration.

It only amuses Jake.

“Not giving you what you want,” he leans in and presses his lips to your jaw, kissing a spot just a few hairs away from your ear, “until you tell me what you want.”

His voice is low, deep and slow. He ​​enunciates each syllable, truly ensuring that you understand exactly what he means.

You take a second to consider if Jake is simply teasing, and if he’ll crumble in the end anyway. But then his hips shift back away from yours, and the pressure of his fingers against your skin in both places lessen.

When you try to move yourself forward towards him, Jake uses the hand still at the base of your neck to keep you still. He pushes against you, keeping you away from him, far enough to deprive you of what you want.

You really don’t want to give in, but you understand that you’ll have to.

When you speak, it’s a whisper, “I want you to touch me. To make me feel good, Jake.”

He hums, his head tilts. He considers.

“Is that really what you want, sweetheart? Because I can still hear some of that attitude.”

Jake’s hips push against yours once more and his cock is still stiff and begging for attention against your thigh. He wants you as much as you want him, but he won’t make it easy for you.

You don’t respond. You’re still a little angry, even though the feeling has mostly disappeared until now. You just have to hope that Jake will have mercy.

And by Eywa, it seems that he has at least a little sympathy on you tonight, because he says:

“I guess I’ll have to fuck it out of you.”

And it’s as much of a delightful promise as it is an intimidating threat.

Jake’s hand slides up and wraps around your throat. He squeezes, just for a few seconds, and then lessens his grip to only keep his hand there, reminding you of what he could do if he wanted to.

His other hand slides over the top of your thigh and under your loincloth. When his fingers press into the undergarments you wear beneath the cloth, you can’t keep your hips from pushing towards his hand. He doesn’t mind, it seems, because the movement spurs him on.

He singles out two digits and uses them to slide up and down your clothed slit, separating your lips enough through the fabric to where he can easily locate your clit and give it the attention you so desperately wanted the entire night.

Those sounds from your mouth now are only light and airy in their tone. Your noises are so pretty, Jake eats them up happily. His ears perk up and turn to you, and you can see the insistent swish of his tail behind you.

Your hands come to Jake’s waist, keeping him close to you, and the tip of his tail curls towards you. You take a second, deciding if it’s too bold a move, Jake wasn’t completely used to his Na’Vi body afterall, but you take the risk.

Your hand reaches to his tail. The tips of your fingers graze the end of the muscle and Jake flinches.He stops. Your eyes find his face to see his eyes wide, his eyebrows raised, and his lips parted.

It takes a second, but he nods, once and firm.

You reach for his tail again, and this time he lets your fingertips skirt along his skin. Your fingertips slide and your blunt nails graze, you draw circles and work your touch around the entire circumference.

All the while, Jake matches his circling on your clit to yours on his tail. You watch his ears push back, and his eyes close. It’s a moment of tenderness between the both of you, a moment of softness where you both briefly forget what has you close to fucking in the woods in the night anyway.

You’re the one to remember and remind Jake.

You wrap your hand around the tip of his tail and tug, a mischievous smile on your lips when Jake’s eyes pop open and his ears stick up to the sky.

He glares and you glare back.

Jake makes a move.

His hand removes from your neck and both of them go to the cord that holds your loincloth and undergarments up. He tugs and the fabric slips down your thighs. The slight chill in the air brushes over your wet cunt and your legs spread. Jake is so close, if you could just–

Jake plunges two fingers into your entrance, sliding them to the first knuckle and then giving you a second before he bottoms out.

His fingers are so long and thick and skillful. He’s thrusting and curling them only a few times and you already have a leg hitched over his waist, trying to get him even deeper (you’ve always been excessively greedy).

“Take what I give you, baby.” Jake warns, but he doesn’t protest when your leg presses into his hip.

His free hand moves your top out of the way and you gratefully watch as he lowers his head to your neglected chest.

His lips and tongue circle your aching nipples, sucking and biting just enough to provide stimulation in the form of a delicious combination of pain and pleasure.

Jake continues to work you open, and you appreciate his efforts (truly), but you’re ready for him now.

Instead of telling him that, you drop your leg and tug his loincloth down in a similar fashion that he did yours.

Jake doesn’t bother commenting on it, because your hand is finding the tip of his cock.

You can’t stop staring at it. Your eyes play connect the dots with the freckles that adorn his cock, you especially linger on the ones below his leaking head.

You want to fall to your knees and wrap your lips around him, but you’re both so impatient that that’ll have to wait for another time.

Jake pushes your hand away and you pettishly do the same with his. Your legs spread, and then you decide that’s not enough, so you hike a leg up onto his waist once again.

But Jake fucking laughs at you. He doesn’t chuckle, or snicker, or even giggle. He laughs.

You stare at him dumbfoundedly, almost a little hurt, until he decides that whatever has got him is no longer too funny to prolong speaking and he opens his mouth.

“You’re not getting it like that, sweetheart.”

His large, sticky hand wraps around your calf and he brings your leg down. When his hands find your waist, you know what he means.

You pretend to be upset and reluctant to turn around, but in reality, you're ecstatic.

You turn to face the tree, and brace your hands against the bark while you arch your back.

Jake’s hands rest on your hips after he’s used one to guide his cock to your entrance. He slides in slow, almost too slow, and for a second you think he’s going to fuck you slow.

But then he bottoms out with a rough thrust and it’s only your hands against the tree that keeps you from breaking your nose.

Jake notices. “Careful,” he warns.

“‘M fine.”

It’s all he needs to hear because Jake then starts to fuck you exactly how you’ve wanted it for the past night.

His hips slap against yours, the only sound save for the cicadas is the wetness of your cunt taking him in and letting him go.

You’re tight, squeezing around him, suffocating him. And Jake, ever the verbal one, comments on it.

“So tight. ‘S like a vice, baby. You have no idea how good you feel, d’you? Hmm? You know how good you make daddy feel?”

That stupid fucking nickname that should make you uncomfortable or turn you off, but it unfortunately does the opposite. It makes your back arch further and one of your hands leaves the tree to wrap around your tit.

“I know, Jake. You feel ‘s good, too. So good, Ma’Jake.”

Jake reaches a place you hadn’t even thought possible before he came into your life. His dick curves perfectly, it sits perfectly within you, almost as if he was–

“Made for me, Jake. You were made for me.”

“Yeah. That’s right, sweetheart. Tell me how good I make you feel.”

The words tumble out of your mouth as if you were intoxicated.

“Didn’t think I could ever feel this good until I met you. No one will ever fuck me like you do.”

Jake groans behind you and a deep feeling of satisfaction settles deep within your chest.

There’s only one other thing that can make you feel this satisfied.

“Tsaheylu, Jake. Please!”

The hand on your tit comes around to your queue so you can hold it up for Jake.

You throw a glance over your shoulder just to see the two queues reach out for each other. When they connect, you both gasp.

You immediately feel everything. The way you’re clenching around Jake, the knot he has at the base of his stomach, the heat that warms his entire body. Even deeper than that, you feel the way he feels for you.

The frustration that you’re not sharing, the hope that you’ll help him understand, the deep and intense love for you he has.

Your eyes find his and you can tell he’s feeling everything too. The way his cock hits that spot within you, the way his balls bounce on your clit with each thrust, the intense way arousal meets you from the location of your rendezvous. And of course, he feels your frustration at him, you want to tell him what’s wrong but the pride that keeps you from doing so, and the love in your heart that acts as a reminder, letting you know that no matter what Jake is bonded with you for life. He is yours.

Maintaining eye contact, Jake reaches around to bring his two digits to your clit.

He gives you wide slow circles at first, until he feels just how close you are and then he tightens the movement and speeds it up.

“I need you to cum first, sweetheart. I wanna feel you.”

It doesn’t take long for you to fulfill his wish. You’re cumming with a sharp gasp and heavy breaths. You try to keep your eyes open as the muscles in your body tense and loosen repeatedly, but you can’t help but let them close.

“That’s it, let go for me. Let it all out,” Jake coos, his thrusts at the same speed but his fingers along your clit slowing enough to give you some sort of mercy.

You’re spent, but you still have enough energy to make one last request. “Inside. I want you to let go inside of me.”

It takes only a few more thrusts and then Jake is letting warm spurts of cum coat your fluttering walls. You milk him dry, sighing gratefully and leaning into the feeling that the bond allows you to feel.

When you and Jake are calmed down, he redresses you. You lean against the tree and let him slide your loincloth up and readjust your top. He kisses at your skin while he does so, and when he’s redressed he kisses you.

It’s soft and sweet and the complete opposite of your past moments.

“You still mad at me?” He asks you, a pout on his pretty face.

“We’ll talk about it in the morning.”

[sunnysoulzz]

Newt scamander x reader 🤭

Im SOOO sorry about how long this has taken, writers block is an ass fr anywayyyy

I just finished reading two, long, newt scamander fanfics and now I got that heartache that comes with finishing something you like, and sooo I’m filling the void with my own fanfic 🤭

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-

^ this was the original idea! (Made by @krispypotato)

I will say, I did change the original idea up a bit, sorry!

Warning: smut, newt x reader, Dom?newt (he gets subby towards the end), sex pollen lol, reader is down bad for newt, more horny then cute 😭, condom without the condom 😎 (protection? Spell teehee)

No pronouns are mentions but it’s afab! <333

It was a lazy Saturday. You had been newt’s assistant for almost a year now. Ever since you got this job, things have always been interesting between you and newt, though you didn’t want to admit it. The long stares, getting flustered when you brushed his hand against yours, your heart racing whenever he got close to you, you could go on and on. He was just so pretty, how could you not? His curly brown-red hair, his freckles, his adorable smile, ahhhhh.

Recently, newt brought a new animal into his care. Neither of you knew much about the creature yet, but you’d try your best.

You were busy feeding the mooncalves when newt called you over. “Hey, can you bring the food?” He called out. “Sure!” You yelled back, grabbing the bucket of meats and herbs. You found newt petting the new creature, trying to gain its trust. You walked slowly, trying not to scare it. You handed the bucket to newt, who then promptly started feeding the creature. The creature was pretty small compared to some of your others, it couldn’t have been much bigger then a large dog. You found it with its leg trapped between rocks and a tree, of course, newt saved it and brought it back. Newt held the food out for the creature to eat. You couldn’t help but watch him, his smile, his lean build, his nice hands… You blushed at your own thoughts. You looked away quickly, starring off into space before newt snapped you out of it “it’s beginning to trust us, it isn’t running away anymore” he said, turning to you, that pretty smile still on his face. You couldn’t help but smile back. “I’m glad! It was a pain trying to rap it’s leg properly” you giggled, “hopefully now it’ll be easier”. Newt nodded, not taking his eyes of you.

Unluckily for the both of you, one of the animals in your care screeched, sending the new creature into a panic and splashing both you and newt in a pink/yellow glittery powder. “Ugh…” you sighed out, whipping some of the dust off your shirt. Newt chuckled before turning towards the screech, “let’s go find out what happened” he said, his voice laced with slight worry. He placed a hand on your shoulder, but he quickly removed it as he walked towards the animals. You nodded and quickly followed him.

You later found out one of the animals screeched because it got a splinter, you helped the animal, and then walked over to newt. Newt was standing at his desk, using a towel to get rid of the glittery dust. You sat down in the chair closest to him. He handed you the towel, smiling softly at you, before quickly turning his head towards his work. You brushed yourself off, suddenly starting to feel oddly calm. “Thanks” you said, placing the now glittery towel on back of one of the chairs.

You leaned back in the chair. All the creatures had been fed, the injured ones had been checked to make sure they were healing, and now you could finally rest. You looked around you before your eyes landed on newt again. He had a piece of paper in his hand, he looked like he was reading it but you saw his eyes jump from you to the creatures and then to the paper again, a light blush was present on his face. You took a deep breath in, looking down at your hands in your lap. You felt like you were getting hotter, sweat seemed to stick to your forehead. You shuffled in your seat, your clothes suddenly feeling to tight. Newt let out a small groan, you looked over to him again, letting out a little “hm?” To see if something was wrong. Newt seemed to jump almost, from hearing your voice. He turned around, facing you. “Ah- Uhm- well I think we’re all done here” he said, adjusting his collar, “you can head home” he finished, his eyes quickly looking away from you. “Are you sure? I can stick around a little longer, make sure that everything is ok after their feeding, and stuff…” you trailed off. Even though you were uncomfortable, you really didn’t want to leave newts side. “No, it’s fine, everything is done” he said, clearing his throat, the blush on his facing growing deeper. You stood up from the chair, stepping closer to him.

“I wanna make sure the animals are ok tho, what if she gets another splinter-“ you were cut off when newt grabbed your arms, “please, everything is fine, go home” his breathing was heavy. You looked him in the eyes, your face going red. He starred deep into your eyes before realising and quickly letting go off you and looking away. He cleared his throat again. There was an awkward silence between you two, the only sounds to be heard were the animals, and heavy breathing from the both of you. Your body started feeling tingly, you felt almost light headed. The feeling becoming overwhelming, your head filled with thoughts of newt, what he’d look like on top of you, what he could do with his rough hands, or his tongue. You gave in, you let out a shaky breath, “a-alright, I’ll see you tomorrow…” you smiled at him. He looked at you, his eyes dark, and filled with lust. He nodded his head, he leaned up against the desk.

You took a step back, still facing him. Suddenly his eyes widened. As you went to turn around you, your foot got caught on a loss brick, newt reached his hand out to you, barely grabbing onto your shirt before you both felt and hit the floor. Luckily, his hand was able to reach the back of your head before you reached the ground, so you didn’t hit your head. You weren’t badly hurt, neither was newt. You looked up, newt was now on top of you, his hands now on either side of your head, he looked down at you, his breathing speeding up slightly. He seemed to snap back to reality when you reached out to touch his face, you both realised what was happening. You quickly moved your hand back and newt sat up. “Uh- come on, I’ll..get you a Band-Aid” newt said quietly, helping you stand.

There was another awkward silence as you walked upstairs to his living room. Normally the silences were fine, since you both felt comfortable in each others presence, but now, you’re both uneasy, the both of you feeling tense with no way to relieve it. You sat in his living room while newt shuffled around for a Band-Aid. The air was thick with tension. You felt more lustful by the second. Your mind started to go foggy again. You let out a deep sigh, still feeling bubbly, “so, Uhm” you started, “do you know what the new creature is?” You starred down at your hands. “…not really, I-I think I’ve seen it before, but I can’t remember much about it, off the top of my head” he said, finding the Band-Aid. He walked over to you, placing his wand on the coffee table near by. He crouched down in front of you, delicately placing the Band-Aid on your elbow. He looked up at you, his adams apple bobbing. “…I think” he said, nervously, “I think, I can guess, what it’s defence mechanism is” he looked away from you. You started off into space for a second. Suddenly realising that this feeling started after it had sprayed you and newt in the glittery dust. Your mouth hung agape as you realised.

“I don’t think…this will go away unless we do something about it” newt said in a moment of unexpected confidence, though his face was bright red. “Will you…help me?” Newt said softly. You held newts face, “mmhm, if you help me as well” you said. Newt licked his lips, letting out another sigh before smiling slightly and kissing you. He stood up and quickly pushed you to lay longways on the couch, his lips never leaving yours. His hands were now by your head again. You started unbuttoning his shirt.

His lips detached from yours, his hands went to your shirt. He quickly unbuttoned your shirt and threw it on the floor. “You’re so beautiful…” he muttered against your skin. His lips sucked redish purple splotches on your neck. You moaned as your hands tangled in his hair. “Wait..” you said. He immediately stopped and looked up at you, worrying he did something wrong. “I wanna touch you too” you blushed, looking away from him. He panted, looking from your neck, to your face, and then away from you. He sat up, still between your legs, “Mmhmm” he said. He quickly took off his shirt. You unbuttoned your pants, and took them off, with his help. You were left in just your underwear, he still had his pants on, though you could see his cock strained uncomfortably against them. “…gorgeous..” you heard him mumble. Your face went redder, you couldn’t tell if it was the sex pollen talking or if he really thought that.

He kissed your neck, leaving small kisses against the deep red marks on your skin. You reached down to his pants, you hooked your fingers around the waist band of them, pulling them down. He swiftly unbuttoned them and pulled them off, leaving him in just his boxers. He breathed deeply against your neck, his hot breath making you shiver. He kissed at your neck more, his hands lightly placed on your hips. “Please…newt” you said, reaching down to stroke the outline of his cock. He groaned at your touch. He sat up, quickly removing his boxers and letting his dick spring free. You starred for longer then you should have. He looked away suddenly feeling nervous. You quickly snapped out of your daze, your face bright red. You took off your panties, throwing them somewhere on the floor. Now it was his turn to stare. He starred down at your body, his hands moving to your face and then down your body. You let out a small moan as his hand moved to grip your hip. He used his other hand to quickly reach over to the table and grab his wand, casting a…protection spell on himself.

“Is it..ok..if i..” newt stuttered out. His hand gripping you hip tighter. “Yes newt just- please” you mumbled. Newt smiled at your neediness, his fingers when down to your entrance, without wasting anytime he pushed his finger in you. You moaned gripped the bedsheets, newt quickly added another finger, he pumped his digits inside you, though a little sloppy. “Newt, please… I want you..” you moaned out, your eyes stared deeply into his. “But…I need to prep you don’t I..?” His soft eyes looked back at you, he was worried he’d end up accidentally hurting you. “It’s good enough, I need you inside of me” you grabbed his wrist, making him pull out. His face when even more red, he was flustered yet very excited.

He pumped his cock in his hands before steadying himself and pushing his tip inside you, using his precum as lube. You moaned loudly. He slowly pushed himself inside of you. He leaned over you, putting a head next to your head, your arms went to rap around his neck. Once he was fully inside you he stabilised himself. he looked down at you, his breath heavy and his face red. “Are you alright?” He mumbled. “Mmhmm” you said, he slowly pulled himself out again, starting to thrust into you. A string of moans left your lips as your nails dug into his back.

You moaned out his name while he grunted in your ear. He kissed your jawline, his eyes were glossy and filled with lust, he wanted more of you. His hands moved gently down your body, just because he was roughly fucking you doesn’t mean he wasn’t going to touch you were the most graceful thing he had ever seen. His hands travelled down your body, landing on your hips, he moved your body against his, causing his dick to reach deeper inside you. Your hands landed on the bedsheets, you gripped them tightly as you moaned.

His thrusts eventually grew sloppy, his breathing was laboured, and his grunts and groans had turned into whimpers and soft moans as he got closer to his climax. “You look so..delicate” he whimpered out, his grip on your hips loosening. As the both of you reached your climax, he moaned out your name, his cum painting your walls. He stayed inside you, catching his breath. “..a-are you ok?” He stuttered out nervously. You stared up at him, your chest rising and falling. You nodded your head and reached up to him, pulling him down into your arms. “I feel wonderful” you said with a smile, newt let out a content sigh before pulling out of you. “I’ll uh, get you a towel” he said, before disappearing out of view. You laid on the couch, suddenly aware of the fact you technically just fucked your boss, and the guy you’ve had a crush on since you met him.

He eventually came back with a warm towel, he was now in a new pair of pants, still shirtless. He traced over your body with the towel, you laid their catching your breath. You couldn’t help but look at him arms and chest. He was covered in scars, some small, some large, obviously from all the animals he’s tried to help over the years. You couldn’t help it as a small smile formed on your lips as he looked away, blushing, as he moved down your body. “Do you feel..ok?” He said, still looking away, “I mean..has the sex pollen..worn off?” He scratched the back of his neck. “I think so, interesting defence mechanism though” you chuckled out, thinking about how you even got into this situation. He turned back to you as you sat up, stretching. You stared into each others eyes, but only for a second, before you both broke it off. You were somehow still nervous, even though he had just recked your insides. “Uh..” he begun, “would you..like to go out for coffee, sometime?” He said nervously. You’re face went red, was he really asking you on a date? You smiled brightly, but tried to hide it. “Sure, I’d love to” you said, the happiness very apparent in your voice. He looked back to you, seemingly shocked at your answer before he quickly smiled. Maybe it wasn’t just the sex pollen that caused this to happen.

-

Anddd scene, lmao I’m sorry if this is rushed, I got super bad Artist block right as I started the smut 😭 anyway, hope this is ok! I want to get back into writing but ima have to take it slow lol. Anyway hope this did the prompt at least a lil justice 💪 (also sorry for any spelling mistakes, I’ve only edit read this once)

@camilaheroine

[penvisions]

from grief to grace {javi g x reader drabble}

Pairing: Javi Gutierrez x Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Summary: Determined to work through your heartbreak, you end up spacing out until your boss comes to check on you.

Warnings: hurt and comfort, break up, heartbreak, asshole boyfriend, negative language, degrading language, disrespect, um idk if there's anything else?

A/N: written for @iamasaddie as part of their writing challenge 2.0! decided to go literal with the prompt of 'javi's blue jacket' and pick javi g since i've never written for him before. the genre i was given was hurt/comfort and the prompt was 'will you tell me about it?' i had so much fun with this even if i took an angstier route (apparently that's my thing lol)

drabble masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

You were trying to concentrate on threading the needle, but your hands were trembling, and tears were brimming. Sighing, you set the needle’s pointed end back into the pin cushion atop the desk, beside the jacket you had been attempting to fix.

Footsteps echoed down the hall, and you quickly picked up the notebook you had scribbled Javi’s measurements on, double checking them against the thin white lines you had drawn onto the fabric as you heard him enter the room.

“Okay, my apologies, that meeting ran a little longer. It was unexpected.” He clapped his hands together, seemingly done with that part of the day and more than willing to move onto the nest.

“Th-that’s okay, senior.” You tried to sound normal, but your heart sank when you realized it hadn’t been convincing enough.

“Is everything okay, you do not seem like yourself.” Javi’s cheerful tone had dampened, worry creeping into him as you could feel his eyes look you over completely as you sat frozen at your desk. No doubt taking in the way the jacket that was supposed to be ready for him to try on was sitting in front of you in pieces.

“I know, I’m sorry. I’ve been too slow on this jacket, senior, please accept my apologies.”

“I am not worried about the jacket, I am worried about you. You’re crying, querida.” He intoned softly.

Quickly raising a hand to wipe at your cheeks, you were startled to discover that you were crying. The tears having fallen to the fabric you were supposed to be working on. Damp spots decorating the bright fabric. It was a mustard yellow, the color deeper where you tears had landed. You frantically tried to rub the wet spots off, patting at them with a tissue from the box near the edge of your desk.

“Oh shoot! No, no, no, I will fix it, I swear.”

“No need,” Javi strode further into the room, kneeling beside you to take your hands in his. They looked so small in his, the freckled tan of his feeling warm. “I worry for you, tell me what’s wrong?”

You shook your head, aware of a few errant tears flying away at the motion. You wanted to keep it inside, to not ruin the day or be the cry baby that vented to their sweet, understanding employer.

“I’m okay, I swear.” You wouldn’t look directly at him, knowing his wide brown eyes that glittered in the sunlight would make you spill the news far too quickly if you were to gaze into them. You always had a soft spot for him, for the way he was endlessly kind and wore his heart on his sleeve. Something that had been a thing to tease you over, from both your friends and your – well now ex – boyfriend.

“Will you tell me about it, querida, please? I will do my best to make it better, whatever it is.” He beseeched in that deep baritone he had, his hands squeezing yours reassuringly.

“My-my boyfriend, h-he broke up with me. He said he was embarrassed to tell his friends I was a seamstress.” You sputtered, the ache in your heart making the words flow from you to your boss. He was always so kind, so thoughtful. You hadn’t wanted to tamp down on his sunny and excitable demeanor today of all days. He was preparing to host a viewing festival, indie film makers from all over the world would be there and he had requested you to work overtime if you wanted to. You had taken him up on it, even in the wake of the breakup. You needed to save as much as you could to cover the down payment for a new place, your ex not too prideful to kick you out of the one in your name that he had moved into. “He ki-kicked me out of our apartment, I have nowhere to go.”

You felt a tug on your arms and you leaned into it, your bottom thudding on a plush pillow Javi had pulled from the nearby couch. He took you into his arms carefully, on the watch for any signs that this was not the way to go about this. But you went willingly, your arms going around his neck and your cheek going to his chest. You breathed in deeply, one of his hands rubbing up and down your back soothingly.

“I’m so sorry, mi amor. Why don’t you let me cook for you or take you out to a lovely dinner, mi amor. To help get your mind off of things. You can stay here in the meantime, there are countless rooms here for you to have.” His voice vibrated through you, comforting in how it caressing your ears at the same time. You could only nod, not trusting your voice to be more than a warble of nonsensible words. You tightened your on hold on him, feeling safe for the first time all week.

-

The next morning you woke naturally, the sunlight filtering in through the sheer curtains over the windows. You had opted to stay in, too nervous to be out in public lest you run into your ex. Javi had understood completely, whisking you toward the kitchen after he had dried you tears. Glasses of wine were shared over the course of making dinner and during. Two led to three led to four and you found yourself slow dancing with the graceful man in the kitchen once you had finished. The soft sounds of the distant ocean paired with the oldies flowing low from the radio too tempting. He whispered how he would never treat you in such a bad way, how he would always take care of you, make sure you were happy and healthy.

When he offered you a room again, you had been emboldened by the wine and casual touches. It urged you to lean up close to him, hands still around his neck from dancing to ask if his room was available. He had answered you with a deep kiss, his hands wide on your back as he licked into your mouth. He had assured you he was a man of honor before offering you a pair of pajamas and settled into his plush bed beside you. He hadn’t done anything more than tangle his fingers with your underneath the covers before you both drifted off to sleep.

Smiling to yourself, you stretched out. A moan bubbling up as you felt a few kinks work themselves out in your back. You felt heat rush to your cheeks, the sound so dirty in the warm bedroom. But when you looked over to the other side, you were the only one in the bed. Your eyes flashed to the pop of neon color on the bedside table.  

There was a post it note atop the alarm clock, blocking the display of numbers from view. Javi’s script penned in ink, a message for you.

‘Mi amor, I had to leave early but did not want to wake you.

Please join me for the festival if you’re feeling up to it. Just ask my assistant for a VIP pass.

I will bring home something for dinner. I hope you got some rest last night, please take it easy today.

Yours, Javi’

You liked the sound of that. Home.

[thescarletfang]

The Sweetest Kind of Trouble

Well, here it is! My fluffier-than-fluff Tommy Miller fic. Seriously, this is so soft, y’all. I just didn’t have the mental capacity to go dark for this one. Sometimes it be like that! I just really wanted to write a very tender Tommy Miller fic without the looming threat of the end of the world. 

Word count: ~8.3k (my longest fic lol who am I what is happening)

Summary: You meet Tommy when he comes in looking for flowers for a first date. He’s trouble from the start.

Tommy Miller x f!reader, AU, no outbreak. 

Warnings: Some spice at the end! I think that’s it?? Let me know if I missed anything but I mean...this is SO FLUFFY. 

I hope you enjoy. I just want to give Tommy Miller all of the love he deserves!!

He came in looking for flowers. 

You noticed him immediately - his tall, broad frame adorned in faded Levi’s, his gray, collared shirt open and unbuttoned with a white tank top underneath, a cowboy hat on his head and dark shades hiding his eyes. You could tell he was beautiful immediately, even with his sunglasses on. The way his black locks curled under the hat made your fingers itch, the desire to run your hands through them a little shocking since you’d only laid eyes on him thirty seconds ago. His boots were as study as his large hands that ran along the cracked, wooden gate that led into where you stood behind the register. 

You liked working at Daisywood Farms, especially in the springtime. The Texas sky was usually a vibrant shade of blue, the steady buzz and hum of insects the perfect background melody. You liked the way the heat made you sweat. You were a summer baby after all, coming alive in the warmer weather, so it never bothered you none when Austin got real warm. You felt yourself bloom under the sun. 

You really liked working in the marketplace at Daisywood Farms. It was open and bustling and there was everything from blackberry jam to mason jars of moonshine to apple and rhubarb pie - and flowers. So many flowers, black-and-yellow bees dancing through the outdoor marketplace, floating from daisies to sunflowers to carnations and sprigs of baby’s breath. You reveled in the different scents; rejoiced in the way your sundress moved with the humid breeze and your hair frizzed around the crown of your head. 

You’d decided at thirty to go back to school and earn your master’s degree in English Literature, and working at Daisywood Farms from the springtime through autumn was a nice respite amidst your studies. You worked part-time, it paid for your apartment and books, and it allowed you to get out of your head. You found yourself content for the first time in a long time - you had a routine. You had friends - good ones, too. You had your own place, a little two bedroom with hardwood floors and natural light and a windowsill for your flowers and space for all of your books. You were - for all intents and purposes - happy. 

You did not expect Tommy Miller. 

After you initially noticed him, you went back to work, ringing up an older woman for an entire case of moonshine, having to bite your lip from laughing when she told you it was because her husband was getting on her last nerve. You packed away her jars and sent her on her way, and your eyes crinkled from smiling as you watched her leave. 

A few minutes later, you looked up from wiping down the counter when you heard a throat clear. It was the guy with the hat and the boots and the hair and the–

“Um, miss, I don’t wanna be a bother, but I could sure use your help.”

You immediately thought that his voice didn’t have to be that deep and that raspy. Did this man walk out of one of those trashy romance novels you’d read on the beach last summer? You felt flustered as he took off his sunglasses and you were met with puppy-dog brown eyes. At the distance he stood from you now, you could see a smattering of freckles along his cheeks, and he was grinning. You’d never been smitten with a stranger this quickly before, but this man was simply beautiful. You couldn’t stop yourself from admiring him. Your eyes flickered over his face despite your best attempts to remain unafflicted. 

He looked at you expectantly, and you came back to your senses. You cleared your throat. Your face was hot. 

You found your voice. “What can I help you with?”

His grin was very distracting, you noted. He tapped his fingertips on the counter and you felt your lips quirking up in the corner, despite yourself. Whoever this man was, he made you want to smile, and that was alright by you.

“Got me a first date tonight,” he said. “And my niece says bums like me should bring flowers to a first date.”

You laughed, despite the twinge of disappointment at the fact that this man had a date lined up. That’s what you get for being flustered with a stranger. 

“Your niece sounds very smart.”

His eyes glittered as he nodded, hanging his sunglasses on the collar of his white undershirt. He rapped his knuckles twice on the counter. 

“Smartest person I know, that’s for damn sure,” he said. You nodded, pulling up the wooden barrier on the side of the cash register counter, coming out from around the corner to stand in this man’s space. You thought for a second his eyes flicked over your body, taking you in, but you were sure you’d imagined it. 

“Well, we have lots of options for a first date,” you told him, the two of you walking toward the rows and rows of flowers that Daisywood Farms was known for. “What’s this girl like?”

The man chuckled lowly, reaching up and taking the cowboy hat off his head, holding it close to his chest. You tried not to stare at the disheveled curls, tried to not to marvel at how beautiful his head of hair was.

Dear god, woman. Get it together!

“I don’t really know,” the man admitted. “I asked for her number at the bar the other night and well, now here we are.”

You paused in front of a sprig of lavender and pulled it out of its place, holding it up to your nose. You breathed in deeply, the familiar scent warming you down to your toes. You looked up to find the man staring at you. 

“Hmm.” Your fingers traced against the sprigs in your hand. “You honestly can’t go wrong with lavender, maybe mixed with a few wildflowers in there.” 

He kept looking at you and you felt rooted to the spot. “That your favorite? Lavender?”

You nodded. “I’d say so. I like to always have some on my breakfast table. Brightens up my morning while I have my coffee and do some reading.” Am I talking too much? It felt like you were talking too much. 

He watched you for a moment, not saying anything. It almost felt as if he was studying you. And then he reached over, picking up a bunch of daffodils.

“I think these’ll do.” His eyes flickered back to you. “She don’t seem like a lavender girl.” 

You pursed your lips, putting back your lavender bunch, trying to decide if that stung or not. She must be really different than me. 

“I don’t think you needed much of my help.” You led him away from the flowers and he put his hat back on. As you lifted the wooden barrier to situate yourself behind the register, you heard him chuckle. When you turned around to face him, hand outstretched for the daffodils, he was grinning.

“Sure I did. How else I’d know that lavender brighten up a morning while you do some reading?”

You bit your lip, trying to put a clamp on your smile but it felt a little futile. You thought maybe he picked up on it because as you rang up his total, his eyes sparkled with something like mischief. 

“I’m Tommy Miller.” Your eyes shot up to meet his, momentarily pausing in punching in the price in the ancient register. You liked the way he said his full, government name to you. It made you want to laugh. He’s so damn cute.

“Are you, now?” You couldn’t help but tease him a little and he breathed out a chuckle, the sound low and rich, like a dark roast coffee. You smirked as he looked away for a minute, his smile crooked. When his eyes flicked back to you, you couldn’t help but suck in a breath. 

Ugh. What is wrong with me? He’s just a guy, getting some flowers for his girl. 

Maybe you were lonelier than you thought you were. Maybe it was time to take up Vanessa - your best friend - on her offer to set you up with one of her coworkers. She had mentioned a guy named Jake had thought you were cute when you’d joined them for happy hour drinks a few weeks back. You can barely remember what he looked like, but a vague picture of a dude floated in your head. You remember thinking he was nice.

“Can I ask your name?” You were brought back to the present and to the man - Tommy - in front of you. He sounded hopeful and friendly and not at all like some of the more aggressive men you’d encountered out in Texas nightlife. This Tommy Miller - he felt open. He felt safe. 

Maybe you were an idiot for thinking that after a few minutes of interaction, but you prided yourself on your instincts. 

Which was why you told him your name. He repeated it back to you, the grin permanent on his face. You had to look down or else you were worried you’d completely melt. You wrapped his flowers up as you told him the total. As he fished his wallet out of his back pocket, you cut a piece of twine, wrapping it around the bundle of daffodils. 

You gave him the flowers as he handed you cash. He held them up to his nose, smelling for a moment, before looking at you. He was looking at you through his dark, too-long-to-be-good-for-him lashes, like he knew exactly what he was doing to you. 

You gestured with your hand toward the bouquet.“She’s gonna love them. Daffodils are a perfect first-date flower.”

“Alright then.” He nodded. “Now if this date goes badly and she hates them, I may have you to blame, yeah?”

You laughed. “Well I did suggest lavendar, so…”

Tommy stood there and you thought for a moment maybe he wanted to say something. But he didn’t and you filled the silence for him.

“Well…enjoy your date, Tommy.” 

“You work here often?” The words tumbled out of his mouth quickly, as if he couldn’t contain them much longer. Your eyebrows rose almost to your hairline. 

“I do. Part-time.” He looked at you and his expression was so open that you felt yourself offering more. “I’m back in school, getting my master’s degree, so I work here through autumn when I don’t have class.”

Tommy let out a low whistle, his eyes widening. He looked impressed and you tried not to preen. 

“So you one a’ those smart ones?” 

You titled your head at him, pursing your lips playfully. “You one a’ those dumb ones?” 

Tommy’s eyes lit up and you felt little butterflies in your belly. His eyes glittered in the afternoon sun, and you felt like everyone else milling about the Daisywood marketplace faded into the background, blurred and frayed around the edges. As if there was a glow on just the two of you, the warmth radiating into your pulse, down into your very bones. 

“You’re trouble,” he told you, motioning with the bouquet in your direction. You felt like you’d just won something, but you weren’t sure what it was. 

“It was nice to meet you, Tommy Miller,” you told him and he grinned again, one of those wide ones that crinkled the edges of his eyes. 

“You too.” 

* * * 

Tommy had wanted to ask for your number, but he had enough sense in his head that he realized asking a woman for her number while buying flowers for another woman was not the right move. He was an idiot about most things, but he knew that much.

But damn, you’d been a fiery thing. And as he stood in the parking lot of the restaurant, his hands in his pockets, watching his date walk back to her car, he cursed himself. Because the girl he’d taken out tonight - she’d been sweet, but clearly the sparks had peaked under the dim light of a bar and the fuel of alcohol. When she said tonight had been fun but maybe that’s where it stopped - a friendly, platonic smile on her face - he couldn’t have agreed faster. He only realized as she walked away that she’d left her flowers in the restaurant. 

He kicked a rock in the parking lot, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out his pack of cigarettes. He lit one as he walked to his truck, the nicotine immediately calming him. He exhaled through his nose as he climbed into the driver’s seat. 

Tommy knew his history with women. He knew he’d never been the serious type, much more interested in hook-ups and and flirtations than actual relationships. But he’d be lying if he said that now -  in the latter half of his thirties - the uncertainty felt a little tired. It’s not like he was ready to settle down, get married and pop out some kids - hell no. Sarah was enough for him and he loved being her uncle more than almost anything in the world.

Naw, he wasn’t trying to skip all the steps and get tied down right away. But…it would be kind of nice to come home to someone after a long day of working in the sun, blistered hands and aching bones. Would be nice to not have to try with anyone, to just have someone who knew him. Someone he could wrap up in his arms, that he could feel like himself with. Someone to bring over to Joel and Sarah’s for Sunday night dinner. ‘Cuz that drive home is starting to feel a little lonely. And so is my house. 

He took another puff from his cigarette as he passed the local grocery store. He realized he was out of coffee and tomorrow was a big job with Joel - he knew he’d need the fuel in the morning. Pulling into the nearly-empty parking lot at this hour, Tommy flicked his cigarette out of the driver’s window as he pulled into an empty spot. 

As he walked into the grocery store, he stuck his hands in his faded jean jacket and headed straight for the coffee aisle. He could feel the long day settle into his bones and he was looking forward to flopping face-first down into his bed the second he got home. 

He found the dark roast he liked and snatched it from the shelf before he turned toward the end of the aisle, where he promptly found himself rooted to the spot.

Because there you were. Pretty little thing from the farm, your name floating into his brain as he looked at you for a moment as you held a basket in your arm, examining a bag of sugar. Your hair was pulled out of your face, different than how you’d worn it this afternoon, and you looked a little tired. 

But still as cute as ever.

“Hey, Trouble.”

You looked up at his voice and it took a moment, but when you recognized him your face broke into the brightest smile he’d seen all day. It made his stomach swoop a little and he walked toward you, returning your grin. 

“Tommy Miller.” You put the bag of sugar in your already-full basket, shifting your weight to accommodate the bulkiness. “Hi.”

“Hi.” He said your name then and you laughed. And then he stupidly asked, “What are you doin’ here?”

He felt himself flush as you got a teasing look in your eye, seemingly delighted that he would ask such an obvious question. Your eyes flicked down to your basket, then back up to his gaze.

“Why, believe it or not, I’m grocery shopping.”

He chuckled, a little embarrassed, the hand not holding his coffee coming up to rub at the back of his neck. You seemed to take pity on him because you looked up at him with a friendly wink, letting him know you were just messing with him. 

Tommy nodded. “Ain’t that somethin’.” 

Suddenly, your eyes went wide, as if you’d only just remembered something. “How’d your date go?!” 

You seemed genuinely excited for him, like you really cared about his answer to the question.  

“It was fine.” He watched as your eyebrows rose. You looked - well - if Tommy didn’t know any better, he’d say you looked a little relieved at his lackluster response but maybe that was just him being hopeful. 

“Oh no.” You once again shifted the heavy basket and Tommy had an itch to reach out and take it for you. Would that be too forward? I don’t wanna come on too strong. “‘Fine’ is not how you want to describe a first date.” A pause, and then, “It was the daffodils, wasn’t it?”

Tommy barked out a laugh and you grinned playfully at him. “I think it was more to do with our personalities not bein’ compatible, but I will tell you - she left the daffodils in the restaurant.”

You clutched a dramatic hand to your heart, scrunching your eyes up in mock pain. “Noooooo!” 

“It’s true. Right there on the table between our empty plates.”

You groaned, the sound turning into a laugh when your eyes landed back on his. “That’s so brutal, I’m sorry. For the record - those were really nice flowers! Her loss.”

Tommy stuck his free hand into his pocket to keep from just taking that damn heavy basket out of your arms. “They were nice flowers. As pretty and as nice as the gal who sold them to me.”

You squinted your eyes at him, pursing your lips - it looked like you were trying to hide a smile.

“You using a line on me after your failed date?” Damn, you liked calling him out, didn’t you?

“It ain’t a line!” He watched as you turned on your heel, scoffing. He thought for a moment he’d blown it, that you really did think he was a dog, but when you realized he wasn’t next to you, you looked over your shoulder and raised an eyebrow at him. 

“You just gonna stand there or you gonna walk with me?” 

She–oh…damn.

“Yes ma’am.” Tommy’s long legs got him to where you stood in just a few strides, and the two of you meandered down the aisle, toward the front of the store. 

“I really am sorry your date didn’t go as well as you’d hoped.” He looked to his left, down at you. Your gaze was focused ahead of you, your arms gripping the basket. 

Fuck it. 

“Here, gimme that.” He motioned to your basket and you looked up at him, your face full of surprise. 

“Oh, you don’t have to, Tommy–”

“I know that, but I want to.”

You hesitated for another moment before you let him take the basket out of your arms. He held it in his right hand, his left hand clutching his coffee. He glanced at your ingredients, noticed a few common threads. Made him think of the time he took Sarah to get things to surprise Joel on a Christmas morning a few years ago. They’d made cinnamon buns together, Sarah bossing him around while Joel slept in. That was a good day. 

“You into baking?” You looked up at his question. 

“It’s my best friend’s birthday next weekend. Gonna make her a cake. Icing and all.”

He let you walk in front of him as you both reached the checkout line and he resisted the urge to put his hand on your lower back. You turned to him and he held out your basket as you started to put your items onto the conveyor built. 

He caught your eye as you set down a container of sprinkles. “Lucky best friend.” 

The two of you didn’t talk much as you both checked out, but you did reward him with another bright smile as he effortlessly took hold of your bagged groceries, insisting he help carry them to your car.

You led him over to where you were parked and opened the passenger door for him to set your bag down. When you nudged the door closed with your hip, you turned to face him. He held his single bag of coffee in his hand, looking at you. 

“Thanks for the totally unnecessary chivalry.” You played with the strap of your purse, one foot kicked behind you, resting on your car door. “I really do appreciate it, Tommy.”

“I was raised right.” Tommy didn’t want to stop talking to you, but it was getting late and he had to be up early - and he could see the tiredness in your shoulders, the way sleep was probably beckoning you too. 

He rubbed the back of his neck again. If Joel had been there, he’d tease him for it, Tommy’s consistent tell that he was nervous. He’d done it since he was a little kid - before he was up to bat at a baseball game, before a doctor’s appointment, the day Joel told him he was going to be an uncle. 

“It was real nice runnin’ into you, Trouble, and I’d very much like to do it again.” He heard your small intake of breath, the surprised little gasp as your eyes widened just a bit. 

“You would?” There was no teasing in your question and Tommy was taken aback by the earnestness of it. Like you actually couldn’t believe he’d want to see you again, like you weren’t lovely and kind. He’d be an idiot to not at least try.

“Yes ma’am. You got a number you’d feel okay giving me?” 

Your initial reaction was to smile, and he marveled at how it took up your whole face. Then a second later you sighed, biting your lip, your eyes flitting away from him and he started to feel a little nervous. Maybe he was being too forward. He’d only just met you this morning. You might have a boyfriend or a husband or a girlfriend for all he knew–

“I’ll be honest, Tommy.” You were back to playing with the strap of your purse, and Tommy clocked it as a nervous tick. “I’m not much in the habit of giving strangers - especially men - my number.” 

He studied you for a moment, your hesitation. Did some idiot burn you before? Some creep abuse the privilege of having your number in his possession? He wanted to say he wouldn’t be like that, that he was different -  but currently the odds were stacked against him. He’d just been at dinner with a different woman an hour ago. Maybe you thought he was a creep. 

“How ‘bout this? I give you my number, so if you never wanna see me again, you don’t have to.” Your eyes lit up at his suggestion, your shoulders relaxing. “And I ain’t askin’ for anything. Just would like to talk to you some more.” 

You studied him for a long beat, debating something in that pretty head of yours. “How about as friends? You’d..be okay with that?”

The Tommy Miller from a few years ago - hell, even last year - would’ve honestly deflated at that, said sure and then put you out of his mind, moving on to someone who’d likely sleep with him. He wasn’t always proud of his history with women, and while he never meant to mistreat anyone, he had certainly ghosted a girl or two. Or three or four. 

But you’d been kind to him this morning and you were being kind to him now. He felt comfortable in your presence. And truthfully? He’d be lying if he said he had a lot of friends. Besides Joel and a few veteran buddies, he didn’t have time for a lot of friends. And if he was being brutally, terribly honest with himself?

Fuck, Tommy Miller was a little lonely.

Which is why he nodded, giving you a genuine grin. “Friends sounds pretty damn great to me.”

* * * 

You waited two days to reach out to Tommy. 

You had been a little surprised at your reaction to him asking for your number. You’d mooned over him that morning, your stomach had swooped when you’d ran into him again later that night at the grocery store, and yet when he actually asked for your number, you’d balked. 

Because you’d seen it clearly then. A man as gorgeous as Tommy could not possibly be looking for something more than just physical. And certainly not with you. It just…it didn’t track, based on your history with men like him. And you didn’t think that way to talk down on yourself - in fact, you were very happy with yourself. You knew your worth, knew that you would be a good partner to whoever would want to give that a go with you. 

But Tommy was absurdly handsome. Flirtatious. Easy to joke with and talk to and you saw, in that second when he’d asked for your number, exactly how this would all play out. He’d take you out, you’d get swept up in that smile, you’d find yourself in bed with him because duh, and then you’d never hear from him again. 

It was a tale as old as time. It’d happened to you plenty. 

And maybe that was a little unfair of you, judging him before really knowing him. Your therapist did say you had a habit of self-sabotage when it came to dating. But you couldn’t help it; you were not up to getting hurt at this point in your life. And you knew yourself: you knew if you slept with this man, you’d get attached. You just knew it, a few minutes into conversation with him. 

So you’d been taken aback when he’d agreed to a friendship. You were sure he’d blow you off at your suggestion, or a least pretend to entertain it and then never hear from him again. And you certainly didn’t expect him to answer the text you sent him.

You sent a pretty standard message -  telling him just who was texting him and asking how his day was going. Then you’d thrown your phone on the other end of your couch, snuggling under the throw blanket around your shoulders, trying to put Tommy out of your mind and calm your racing heart because it’s not like he was going to text back anyway. 

Your phone started buzzing and you glanced over, mouth dropping open because Tommy was calling you. Your stomach immediately tied together in nerves and you leaned over, grabbing for your phone and just staring at his name as it continued to ring.

Fuck it.

“Hello?”

“Hi you.” His voice on the other end sounded deeper than in person and you snuggled further into your couch, trying not to physically squeal like you were fifteen-years-old, sneaking on the landline late at night to talk to the boy from school you had a crush on. 

“Hope it’s alright m’calling you.” He sounded soft on the other end. “I’ll admit I’m not much of a texting guy.”

Your smile stretched ear-to-ear because that made perfect sense. He didn’t seem like a texting guy, and hearing his voice over the phone was better than reading a few sentences over a message.

“It’s very alright,” you replied. “I hope it’s alright I texted. I didn’t know if you were working or something–”

“Got home a little bit ago.” Talking with Tommy felt light. You immediately relaxed, imagining him on the other end, wherever he was in his home.

He cleared his throat, asked, “What you up to?” and you fell into an easy conversation. He told you about his day - he worked construction jobs with his older brother named Joel, his only sibling and the father of his niece. You could hear the affection in Tommy’s voice that the man had for his older brother, and it delighted you. He told you about a funny thing his niece - Sarah - had said that morning as Tommy had picked up his brother from his house, on the way to the job. You laughed until your cheeks hurt and realized Tommy had a gift for storytelling.

He asked you about your class that day and seemed genuinely interested in your thesis. He asked what your favorite books were, admitted he hadn’t read one in god knows how long, and asked about your family. You talked and talked and talked, and it wasn’t until you yawned that you glanced over at your end table, eyes widening when you realized it was after midnight. 

You bid each other goodnight and he asked if he could call you tomorrow. You were grateful he couldn’t see your dorky, giant grin on your face when you replied yes. 

That night you dreamt of black curls and freckles and a grin as warm as the Texas sun.

* * * 

Within several weeks, Tommy Miller became your friend. 

You talked to him on the phone whenever you could at night, when your work and research was completed or he wasn’t too passed-out exhausted from work. You even got to see his house - a modest, two-bedroom rancher, with typical Ikea furniture and Texas sports team paraphernalia. The natural light was lovely and his hardwood floors looked beautiful. When you commented on them, he had beamed - and told you that he and Joel had installed the floor themselves. You were sufficiently impressed.

It was lovely and painfully obvious a man lived there alone, especially when you realized the most expensive thing in the entire place was his grill on the back deck. You’d teased him, but the steak he’d made you on it was so good that it’d effectively shut you up. 

And that was how you started to spend time with Tommy Miller. Movie nights at his house, phone calls in the evening, showing him your book collection and grabbing a late night burger after he got off a job. Vanessa even met him once, the man meeting you for a happy hour drink. She didn’t stop teasing you about him for a week after that, calling him your “non-boyfriend boyfriend” and telling you you were an idiot. You brushed her off, told her that right now, you were just friends and that was good enough.

“So let me give my coworker Jake your number,” she’d said, her eyes bright, teasing you. You’d pursed your lips, shrugging.

“Fine.” Your voice sounded unconvincing even to your own ears and Vanessa had scoffed at you. She’d shook her head, taking a sip of her wine. 

“You’re unbelievable,” she’d said and you’d rolled your eyes at her. 

Your newfound friendship with Tommy was nice. He was nice. You didn’t need to complicate it and get your hopes up, thinking that the man wanted more than he was giving. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d made a new friend - you’d been so settled into your life and your routine, you hadn’t had much of change in a little bit. 

Tommy was something new. Something special and sweet and you didn’t really want to complicate it very much. He was probably dating anyway - it wasn’t like you knew every single thing the man did. He owed you nothing, so if he was going out with women on the days you didn’t see him, that was fine by you. 

At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself. 

And you were in complete and utter denial the more time you spent with him.

* * *

“What’s so funny?”

Tommy looked up from his phone to find Joel staring at him with narrowed eyes, his beer bottle paused before his lips. Sarah snorted as she took a bite of her burger, a knowing look in her eye. 

Tommy set his phone down on Joel’s kitchen table, leaning back in his seat. “Huh?” 

Joel took a swig of beer and looked at Tommy suspiciously. “You got the biggest dumbass grin on your face as you looked at your phone. What is it?”

Tommy tried to not give himself away and took a drink from his own beer. Because the truth was he’d been laughing at a meme you’d sent him, something stupid in response to a debate about the greatest action movie franchise. You were arguing that Aliens was better than Terminator 2, and Tommy had pointed out it was the same director, then you’d teased him for “mansplaining” and it’d gone back and forth until you’d sent some ridiculous reaction picture. 

“Dad, he’s obviously texting a girl.”

Tommy flicked a homemade french fry at Sarah’s face and she batted it away, snickering. 

“You mind your business,” he told his niece, trying to play it cool. But Joel - the son of a bitch - looked way too interested to let it slide. 

“Who is it? Do I know her? You datin’ her or just textin’?” Joel’s rapid fire questions made Tommy roll his eyes at his big brother. 

“She’s my friend, dipshit.”

Joel snorted and then it was Sarah’s turn to flick a fry, but this time she aimed it at her dad’s head. The fry hit him directly in the center of the forehead, and Tommy and Sarah burst into laughter.

“Hey!” Joel swiped his napkin over his forehead, glaring at Sarah playfully. 

“Uncle Tommy can have friends that are girls.”

Joel raised an eyebrow. “Oh, can he now?” He leveled a look at his little brother. “You just friends with this girl?”

“Don’t be a dick.” Tommy shoved the last bit of his burger into his mouth. “And yeah, I am, and I really dig her, man. She’s cool. And smart. And funny.”

Joel grinned genuinely at his little brother and Tommy felt the tops of his ears get hot. He knew that look that Joel was giving him. He knew he sounded like a complete dork but he didn’t care. He was grateful for you. For your ridiculous memes and your conversations and for letting him into your life, even if it never got further than what it was. 

Which he was absolutely fine with. Really. 

Sarah’s eyes lit up. “Bring her to my soccer game on Saturday! I wanna meet her!”

“Yeah, Tommy!” Joel’s such a little shit. “Bring her, we wanna meet her.”

Tommy shook his head, looking between his older brother and his niece. They looked at him with expectant expressions, and Tommy finally relented. He knew he wouldn’t win this argument and a part of him didn’t want to. The thought of you joining them for one of Sarah’s games - the thought of introducing you to his people - made his stomach swoop in a way it hadn’t in a long time.

Tommy’s phone buzzed and your name came up with a text that said, Anyway, hope you’re having a nice night. :) 

He didn’t try to hide the smile that time. 

“Yeah, maybe I will bring ‘er.” 

* * * 

The sun beat down on the back of your neck and you were grateful for your choice to wear your hair pulled up and out of your face. The Texas almost-summer-but-still-technically-spring weather was brutal, and it was hot on the soccer field today as you sat beside Tommy and his brother, watching tweens run around and play like their life depended on it. 

When Tommy had invited you to his niece’s soccer game, you had been floored. You’d heard a lot about Joel and Sarah, and you didn’t admit it to him, but you’d been wanting to meet them for awhile. Once you immediately said absolutely to attending the game, your nerves set in. Would Joel grill you about your relationship to his brother? Would he question why you weren’t dating? Would you have to deflect questions in order to stay away from the true reason why you were afraid to admit to your feelings: you didn’t want to get hurt.

But the second Tommy picked you up in his truck with a big smile on his face, the second you both walked across the parking lot and to the field, the second you met Joel Miller and his sweet, bright-eyed daughter, all of those nerves and that fear melted away. You were shocked at how right it all felt. You wished Sarah good luck before she jogged onto the field, and the smile she gave you immediately made you feel welcome. 

You scrunched your nose, too-big sunglasses sliding down your face. Tommy’d given you his to wear, noticing you squinting in the harsh sun. He looked over at you now, smirking. 

“Don’t you dare make fun of me,” you said to him, pushing the sunglasses up your nose. He barked out a laugh and put his hands up in mock defense. 

“I ain’t sayin’ a word.” 

Joel - who was sitting on the other side of Tommy - held his water bottle up to his lips. “If my little brother makes fun of you, he’s walking home.”

“I drove her here!” Tommy’s indignant pout made him sound like he was twelve. Your smile was embarrassingly big. 

“Doesn’t mean she can’t drive your truck without you in it.” Joel threw you a smirk, conspiratory in nature, like the both of you were in on a joke together. It made you feel included and you were grateful for it, lodging the feeling away beneath your ribcage. 

“You know, that’s a good idea, Joel.” You turned to to angle your body toward Tommy, your hands resting on the arms of the fold-out chair he’d brought for you. You reached up, lowering the sunglasses and peered at him dramatically, over the lenses. “I always wanted a truck of my own. Yours will do nicely.”

Tommy’s eyes fixed on you, his gaze warmer than the sunshine. 

“I wasn’t gonna make fun’a you.” He cleared his throat, his eyes traveling over your face. His voice was low, so only you could hear. “Was just gonna say you look good in my stuff.” 

Your mouth dropped open and you found no words came to you. Tommy had a self-satisfied smirk on his face, before he stood up, declaring he needed another water bottle and sauntered away toward the snack bar, a hand in his jeans pocket. The very way he carried himself told you he knew exactly how hard you heart was beating. 

You were flustered, but you managed to get it together when Joel said your name. Your attention flicked over to him. 

“It’s nice to finally meet the girl that’s been the reason for my brother’s good mood for the last few months.”

Your face heated and you smiled. “I don’t know about all that. Tommy’s always in a good mood.”

Joel studied you for a moment, an almost imperceptible shake of his head. “Yeah, but it’s been different. He likes you. A lot.”

Your fingers played with the hem of your sundress, falling to the middle of your thigh. “Well now you’re just getting my hopes up, Joel. He likes me as good as he likes any of his friends.”

Joel deadpanned a knowing look at you and then took a breath. His eyes traveled back to the field, watching as Sarah joined her team for a time-out huddle. When he spoke, his eyes remained on the field, but you felt like his entire attention was on you.

“My brother’s spent his entire life tryin’ to prove he’s good enough. Good enough for our parents, good enough for me, good enough for the fuckin’ United States army.” Joel took a breath, and you got the sense that what he was saying to you was really important. “I would put money on the fact that he sure as hell don’t feel good enough for you.”

You swallowed, your stomach full of butterflies. “I–I don’t–”

Finally, Joel looked at you, and his gaze was as warm as Tommy’s. You could see the similarity in their faces, their brown puppy-dog eyes and their uncanny ability to make you feel like you were the only person in the entire place. 

“I’m tellin’ you this because I can see how y’all are around each other and I’ve spent - what - an hour around you two?” He shook his head. “And I would fuckin’ hate for you to walk away from this because my brother is too up his own damn ass to realize he does deserve the best. And I think I’m right in assuming he makes you happy.” 

You couldn’t deny it even if you wanted to. “He makes me so happy.”

Joel gave you a genuine smile. He nodded. “He’s the best man I know.”

Your heart beat a tender rhythm, the love radiating off of Joel. You were amazed by it, nearly consumed by it. These Miller brothers are good men. I know that. I can feel it. 

Your conversation didn’t continue because Tommy was back, plopping down in his seat between you and Joel. He handed you a water. 

“Figured you could use one too,” he told you. Over his shoulder, your saw Joel’s knowing look, his eyebrows raised,  and you tried not to blush. 

You took the water bottle from his hand, your smile stretching across your face. “Thanks, Tommy.” He grinned at you, his bronzed skin glistening in the sunshine, his freckles scattered across his nose like tiny constellations. I’m down bad for this man. 

The rest of the game passed in a pleasant hour. You made easy conversation with Joel and Tommy, and when Sarah’s team brought home the victory, you were on your feet with the rest of the parents and families, cheering and yelling through cupped hands. 

Joel explained it was tradition to get ice cream after the games - win or lose. Sarah - with her big, Miller eyes - told you matter-of-factly you simply had to join for this post-game tradition. You told her you’ve never turned down an opportunity for ice cream once in your life.

As you sat at an outdoor table at the ice-cream parlor, licking the strawberry cone Tommy insisted on buying for you, you realized you were happier than you ever remembered being. The sun was starting to settle low in the sky, and the soundtrack of Joel and Tommy’s laughter, of Sarah’s snarky comments - it all created a calmness in you. 

I could get used to this. Tommy caught your eye, mid-conversation with Joel. He grinned at you without ever breaking conversation, a silent communication to you saying I’m glad you’re here.

You smiled down into your ice cream.

I’m glad I am too, Tommy. I’m right where I’m meant to be.

* * * 

It happened on a random Tuesday in late May. 

Tommy knew you’d been having a shitty day. You’d overslept for your meeting with your advisor,  a citation source for your thesis hadn’t worked out, and you’d gotten a flat tire on your way home. When you had texted Tommy a picture of the flat with an angry face, he immediately asked if he needed to pick you up. You told him Triple A was on their way, then made a joke about how you’d run over the nail just a few minutes from his house. He said it was fate then, since he was planning on asking you to come over and have dinner with him.

You’d agreed to head to his house after Triple A replaced your wheel. After double checking that you were safe, off the road, and okay to wait for them, Tommy had started on dinner. 

It was golden hour when you arrived to his house, bursting through his front door like a shot of espresso. 

“Honey, I’m hooooooome!” You bellowed the cheesy line, throwing your bag on the couch. Tommy laughed and paused in his work - chopping a red bell pepper for the skewers he was going to toss on the grill. He looked over his shoulder at you, a giant smile on his face, and his heart thudded as it always did when you were around.

You just looked so perfect with your messy hair from a long day, your sparkling eyes, standing in his doorway, lighting up like a Texas firefly. 

I want this. I want this with you. Forever.

You started to make your way into the kitchen, but your eyes flickered over to his dining table. He followed your eye-line and where it came to rest: on the vase of lavender in the center. Your eyes widened slightly as you took in the flowers. You got a soft look in your eye as you walked toward the table, and when you reached it, your fingers reached out to graze the petals.

“Lavendar?”

Tommy cleared his throat, turning around so he could lean against the counter. He took the dish towel from where it rested on his shoulder and wiped his hands. He felt nervous, suddenly. Like you’d opened up his heart, looked right in and saw it all. 

“I hear they’re good for when you’re havin’ your mornin’ coffee. Brightens things up.” 

You met his gaze, a smile taking over your face as you took him in. “When’d you get these?”

Tommy put the towel down on the counter, resting his hands behind him on either side, the cool surface grounding him. 

“The other day.” Fuck it. “I saw them and I wanted them. They always remind me of you.”

He could hear the audible gasp you made, the sharp intake of breath. Your eyes were wet but you didn’t look sad - you looked amazed. Tommy felt himself teetering on the edge and he made a decision then. A decision that was months in the making, a decision that honestly had been in motion since the first time he’d laid eyes on you. 

He pushed off the counter, standing to his full height. Because when a man bared his soul, he did it with dignity.

“I love you.” The words fell out of his mouth effortlessly, danced between the two of you. “I’m in love with you, and – and if all you want with me is friendship, I respect that but I just–I had to tell you, ‘cuz–”

“Tommy.” 

“Cuz I can’t keep it in anymore–”

“Tommy.”

He stopped his rambling and he realized his chest was rising and falling faster than it was a minute ago. You were smiling at him, a tear traveling lazily down your cheek. 

You’re so fuckin’ beautiful.

You took a breath, your hands skating down the front of your dress. 

“I need you to come over here, put your hands on my hips, and kiss me.” 

He felt a flame lick up his spine. Your stare was heavy, and the way you licked your lips made him want to groan. 

And then when you suddenly got bashful, tacking on a, “If you want” — he broke. 

His legs carried him over to you in a few strides. His left hand landed on your hip, his right hand went into your hair, and right before his lips met yours, he rasped, “I want.”

Tommy bent down as you lifted up and when your lips finally connected, he felt like it’d taken forever and no time at all to get here. His hand flexed against your hip and you made a little whimpering noise as you parted your lips. He didn’t waste any second - his tongue tracing your bottom lip before he licked into your mouth. Your hands made their way to his curls and you pulled, causing Tommy to moan deep in his throat.

You pulled away and he chased your lips and you were panting, gasping for air. 

“I love you, Tommy Miller,” you breathed in the space between your mouths. “I love you so much.” 

Tommy couldn’t stop himself from grinning - it spread wide across his face, his hand in your hair moving to cup your jaw. His thumb grazed against your cheek. 

“That makes me a very lucky man,” he told you. You pressed yourself against him, your hands sliding down around his neck. You pulled him by his flannel, connecting your mouths again and if Tommy thought the first kiss with you was good, this was something else. 

You kissed with your entire body. He could feel your curves against him, and his hand on your hip moved to your ass. He grabbed a handful and you moaned, spreading your pretty legs. You broke apart, both breathing hard, and Tommy looked down between you, his forehead resting against yours. He moved his knee in between your legs, pressing it against your core and you gasped. 

“Oh,” you breathed, grinding against his denim-covered knee. The sounds you were making were enough to make him come, make him pant, make him beg. He’d allowed his mind to go here before, imagine what it’d be like to make you come apart with his fingers and his tongue, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever get to experience the real thing. It was worth the wait.

“You’re so fuckin’ perfect,” he rasped as you leaned your head back, breath coming quickly from your mouth. His lips found the pulse point at your neck and your breathless yes, like that made him strain against his jeans.

I want you I want you I want you.

He moved his hands under your ass, lifting and placing you on the edge of the table. You wasted no time wrapping your legs around his hips, drawing him even closer. He leaned his right palm flat on the table behind you, crowding you, his left hand coming up cradle your jaw. You opened your eyes and the love and tenderness in them almost made him buckle. 

“I’m so glad you came in to get flowers that day,” you told him, your eyes wet again. Tommy lost his breath for a moment and then leaned down, pressing his lips against yours before pulling back. 

“Does that mean you’ll be my girl?”

Your legs squeezed around him and Tommy grunted, his hands landing on your thighs, pushing your dress up around your waist. 

You’re everything. How’d I fuckin’ get so lucky?

You looked up at him through your lashes, your hands coming up to hold his face in your hands. 

“I already am.”

* * * 

[dispatchwithlove]

I absolutely adore your ideas for turian culture. The shawls, the interesting word choices correlating with Roman/Latin words (like zuccha, amar, saccha). My absolute favorite thing though is the ties they have with the sky and stars. Garrus' curses (empty night, blackest night) especially are some of my favorite little elements in the universe you write for them. Where did you come up with these awesome ideas? I'm just so invested in the culture you created for my favorite space cats!

Hello Anon! Sorry this took so long to answer, I got absolutely giddy when I read it!

Well the whole Latin thing is taken both from canon (they're based on the Roman empire) and fanon. I know others have used Latin words and Roman culture to develop turian culture, and I liked it so I ran with it. A lot of the words I made up are bastardized latin words, lol. Saccha, mela, and zuccarum (zucca for short) are taken from the Latin words for sugar, honey, and ... sugar again, I think, lol. Crulum is taken from cookie. I kind of just look up the latin words for things and throw some letters around until I'm happy with the mouth feel of it. Other words I just plain make up, like lambas, which is a dish Val makes for the family. I want all turian words to sound like a rich, rolling, rumbly language as much as possible. For Avinelin, a Garrus/Nihlus one shot, I wanted the turian language Nihlus teaches Garrus to sound more like Spanish, because I think it's an incredibly sexy language. Basically, I want turians to sound hot I guess! I think a lot of people like to write turians as cold and ultra-militaristic, and go as far as to say they don't show physical affection easily (which is a valid take that I fully support!). But, I like to show the opposite of that -- that yes their culture is regimented and bureaucratic, but there's still warmth within them. Maybe expressing that warmth within them is even more important, considering their strict social guidelines.

I think that's also why I like to explore the importance of celestial themes with them as well. It shows that they once were religious, just like many species, and that shaped their language and how they cope with life. I know others play with curses being star based as well, so I didn't invent that, I just have fun playing with it. I will say that so far my favorite bit of star theme that I've come up with though, is Garrus seeing Jane's freckles as stars in a night sky, and that when he was a boy he'd look up at the night sky for comfort and solace. I don't get gushy over things I write often, but that moment in The Quarian where he makes that connection gets me! And I will absolutely be playing with that as Garrus and Jane reveal their feelings and explore their relationship in The Boy. One day he'll tell Jane that her freckles are like stars and she'll just melt 🥺 (I've already written the scene 😁)

OH, and the shawls...in the sequel to The Boy (working title is The Missing -- I hate my titles btw, but I feel stuck to the theme now, lol) There's going to be a murder based on the Jeffrey McDonald murders (a military doctor accused "hippies" of killing his family) and I wanted turians to have some sort of cultural appearance that xenophobic humans judged, but was based on something loving, so I thought maybe turians wear shawls while they marry, then i daydreamed about Jane wearing a shawl when her and Garrus get married, then when I was writing about a winter turian holiday (Anivia Vocan) I thought it would be cool if turians wear shawls for all important occasions. Boom, turians have special shawls. Okay, I feel like I've blabbered on enough. Bless anyone who read through this all. TLDR is that I have no plan and don't even keep track of the stuff I write. It all just bubbles up while I'm daydreaming about Jane and Garrus and I include what I remember.

Thanks for asking! Hope this was fun to read. If it was, I'm always down to answer any questions about my stories or world building! ❤️

[novelbear]

I posted 279 times in 2022

That's 219 more posts than 2021!

240 posts created (86%)

39 posts reblogged (14%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@denofdreams-writerblr

@corvase

@novelbear

@littlewhispersofsolitude

I tagged 254 of my posts in 2022

Only 9% of my posts had no tags

#writing prompts - 141 posts

#otp prompts - 140 posts

#imagine your otp - 137 posts

#otp writing - 134 posts

#writeblr - 119 posts

#prompt list - 116 posts

#request - 111 posts

#otp - 71 posts

#romance prompts - 61 posts

#fluff prompts - 52 posts

Longest Tag: 49 characters

#i'll answer what i can (if not tooo personal lol)

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

some more domestic fluff prompts

scenarios: 

 lying on the couch on top of eachother, one combing their fingers through the other’s hair as they watch a movie 

 waking their partner up for work when they notice their alarm didn’t go off 

 alternatively: allowing their partner to sleep in because they were overworked anyway and need the rest. 

 one waking up before the other, so they make up their side of the bed and can’t help but tuck in their sleeping lover as they do so. 

 giving the other a spoonful of the meal they're cooking to test it out, holding their hand under their chin so nothing falls. 

 one is sick, so the other heats up a blanket in the dryer to give it to them while they rest on the couch. 

 listening to music together while they both take the day to clean around the house (maybe even getting a little distracted to dance instead)

 calmly reassuring the other it’s okay when they drop a glass, gently checking their hands for any injury. 

 wiping a bit of frosting (or smth else) off of their cheek while eating and taking it for themself

 smiling across the table when their cheeks are full of food and look quite cute. 

dialogue:

 “can you turn the heat on? i’m getting cold...” 

 “you were talking about that table there being a little...bare, so i got you some flowers to put in it’s space.” 

 “stop singing into the broom and hurry so we can watch this movie!” 

 “you always fall asleep halfway into the episode.” 

 “move your blanket, i wanna lay down on your lap.” 

 “sweetheart, you look cute, but i’m gonna need the sweater.” 

 “i know we had it for dinner last night, but...” *sighs* “the things i do for you.” 

 “did you just put my hoodie in the wash?!” “yeah.” “love, my phone was in there!” 

 “come here, hold my hand.” “you’re washing the dishes.” “..i can do both...” 

 “i hope you don’t mind that i took that painting down, but i thought that picture of us looked a little better...” 

3,322 notes - Posted June 1, 2022

#4

sleepy dialogue for your otp

"getting sleepy, aren't we?"

"i'm...m'up i swear."

"you're blurring your words together, time for bed."

"this is like the fifth time you've yawned in two minutes."

"love, wake up..."

"we're here, come on."

"how long was i out?"

"babe, you can barely keep your eyes open...let's go."

"you're putting me to sleep...stop."

"you look like you're going to fall asleep on your feet."

"do we have to get up?"

"five more minutes."

"shhh...stop fighting and get some rest."

"twenty minutes?" "fine..."

"you look adorable even in your sleep."

"you're so warm."

"well good evening, nice of you to join us."

"babe, are you up?"

"i'm gonna hang up now, kay?" "wait...no."

"goodnight, love."

3,583 notes - Posted February 8, 2022

#3

some sleepy scenarios

## since you all seemed to enjoy the sleepy dialogue prompts~

tracing your lover's features as they sleep

trying to count the freckles on your partner's cheeks when they're asleep

waking up with their legs over yours as they're stretched out and comfortable

taking pictures after finding your lover dozing peacefully while bundled up in blankets

running fingers through their hair as they snooze against your shoulder

feeling their fingers run through your hair while they lull you to sleep

napping on the couch together

hearing them snore a little for the first time

maybe the snoring is small, quiet and you can't help but giggle since it's kind of cute

or maybe it's quite loud and you realize you plan to spend the rest of your life with this

seeing that they're finding a hard time finding a comfortable position so you pull them into your arms

being annoyed because it's extremely hot out and they insist that they cuddle that night

laughing at their messy hair in the morning

sleepy kisses peppered all over their face

seeing them pout or scrunch their nose a little in their sleep

needing to use the restroom but they're clinging onto you like a koala and you don't want to wake them up

they're sick and finally fall asleep sprawled out on the sofa ..meaning you can sit for a few minutes yourself

apologizing when you call them and hear their deep, sleepy voice answer

pulling them back into bed before they go to work but they accidentally dozed off again and is about to be late

trying not to laugh too loud when you discover they talk in their sleep and say some very questionable things

4,653 notes - Posted April 2, 2022

#2

the little things - romantic gestures i love

massaging their shoulders when they clearly had a long day

cupping their cheeks

random "i love you"'s just in case they forgot

kisses on the cheeks

kisses on the tip of their nose

or on their upper lip/cupids bow

playing with their fingers

reading with them

taking pictures of them when they don't realize it because they just look too good to not do so.

fixing their hair for them

pulling them closer when a cool breeze hits you both outside

linking arms

tying their shoe when you notice the laces flying around

knowing their morning routine so perfectly that you already have some of their breakfast/drinks laid out before they get to the kitchen

recording their favorite show on the dvr because you know they'll be in a little late tonight and miss it

gently wiping something off of their face and noticing them smiling because you're just so cute and close

pulling each other into the warmest hugs

dancing together for the first time

letting them take a sip of your drink, then another, then another, then- you might as well let them keep it

giving them a bite of your food

brushing your teeth together and looking at yourselves in the mirror

resting your head on their shoulder

4,719 notes - Posted April 13, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

"show, don't tell" - other ways to say "i love you"

  good morning/good night texts 

 pulling the other into a random embrace

 “this reminded me of you” 

 complimenting the features you love most about you lover

 going to hold hands in a stressful situation 

 holding their hands in general 

 “tell me about your day.” 

 saving their name as something cute in your phone

 taking pictures of each other on dates, telling the other how beautiful they are 

 “i’m here for you.” 

 doing a chore/task that you know they don’t enjoy doing

 calling just to hear their voice

 running some errands for them when they’re sick 

 bombarding them with blankets, tea, heating pads, and anything else they’d need when injured/under the weather

 knowing the medicines they’d usually take and having no problem going to get them when needed 

 getting lost in their eyes 

 reminding them how lucky you are to have them 

 peppering kisses all over

 or going in for one passionate kiss that just says it all

 cupping their cheek 

 wiping their tears when they cry  

 “you’re my everything.” 

 “let me know what you need, alright?” 

7,356 notes - Posted July 27, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[viburnt]

hellooo! can I request Izuku Midoriya x trans!male reader where the reader has just lost a friend because they’re trans (the friend turned out to be transphobic)? I just lost a friend bc I’m trans and I’ve been needing some comfort lol! sorry for kinda dumping my problems onto you, have fun with this request! — ⭐️ annon (hi im new lol)

Hi, my sweet cherub! Thank you for requesting, and I'm sorry you had to go through something so painful. At least, the trash took itself out, I hope you're doing better now. You can always talk to me if you need, stay safe, and enjoy a little angst-comfort with your boy, Izuku.

-Viburnt

Trigger warnings: Mentions of transphobia

𝑰𝒛𝒖𝒌𝒖 𝑴𝒊𝒅𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒚𝒂 || 𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒕

—Hey... are you here?— Izuku asked softly, his head peeking through the door of your room to check on you. You'd locked yourself in after receiving a text during class, and Izuku - being the perceptive person he was - knew something was wrong.

The tears that were once shy in your eyes had turned into blurry fat drops, ashamed that Midoriya had to see you so distraught, affected in a way he could, perhaps, not understand.

—Leave me alone!— You yelled, your bloodshot gaze looking at him with an expression he'd never witnessed before. The breaths you somewhat managed to achieve were short and shaky, upset and startled by the wave of emotions surging in you.

You were hurt and, certainly, you were scared; he could see it by the way you'd chosen to curl up in one of the corners of your dorm.

—I'm not leaving, especially not when I know you are not doing ok.— He said, cautiously trying to de-escalate the situation. If you could understand how important you were to him, you'd see why he was so worried about you.

Slowly but firmly, he allowed himself to sit by your side, giving you space but remaining close enough to let you know he wasn't going to let go easily of you.

You couldn't help but blurt what happened, vulnerable and frail. It was like being exposed to the world, a world that seemed not to like you very much.

—They left me, Izu- I, why? Did I do something wrong?— Midoriya heard you hiccup, your voice drowning between sobs and whimpers. His heart clenched in pain with every cry that escaped your lips, his arms finding their way around your body to embrace you.

—Who left you?— He asked. You reached for your phone, showing him the text of a friend - ex-friend - saying they no longer wished to be with you, all because of your identity.

Anger arose from Midoriya's chest, his teeth clenching in rage. “What the heck is wrong with some people? The audacity-” He thought. Anyone would be affected if someone important to them suddenly decided to call quits because of their personal life.

—You didn't do anything wrong. I promise you…— You heard the greenette assure, but the voices in your head were telling you otherwise. —You're perfect just the way you are, and - the people that truly matter are here for you.

—You'll leave me too, right?— Izuku heard you ask, frowning at your words. How could anyone dare to do this to a human being?

—I won't, I'll never leave. I promise!— The boy pledged, rubbing small soothing circles on your back. —I'll be by your side for as long as you'll have me…

Sniffing, you looked at your freckled friend with hope. He'd never lied to you, and for so long, he'd always stayed true to his vows.

—I just, I don't know…

—But I know, and while I don't have the same experiences you have, be sure that I'll be here to support you in every decision you take.— He told you with a sunny smile, holding you close as the remnants of your emotional torment flowed.

—You don't think I'm a freak?— You meekly whispered, gripping his shirt as if it were keeping you afloat.

—Of course not! You're the coolest person I know, regardless of how you present yourself.— He cooed, basking in the way your lips timidly curled into a smile.

—There you go, see? Your friends, your true friends, they love you. I love you, no matter what. And if that person decided to leave because of something like that, then screw them! Who needs them?— Midoriya preached. Wiping the dampness off your cheeks, you nodded in agreement.

—You're right, I- I think it was for the best.— You answered. It was as clear as daylight now, the ones that mattered didn't mind, and those who mind didn't matter.

— Now, come. Want to see if there are any All Might ice cream pops at the convenience store?— Izuku offers. —My treat.

—The ones that are always deformed because they melted?

—Precisely!

You grinned, more comfortably and lighter than before. —Thanks Izu, I could do with a treat right now.

Midoriya kissed the side of your head sheepishly but content; he was not going to let anyone harm you.

—We can watch a movie after that, a-and maybe even hang out with Iida and Ochako!— He added.

You felt a warm sensation nest on your heart; Izuku was a real friend.

[sigritandtheelves]

All Along, Like Fire (Part 2)

Read Part 1

R | 1.8k words | MSR, AU

Summary: What if Mulder had been married to Diana Fowley when Scully joined the X-Files?

A/N: I think one more part after this… again, assuming it doesn’t get out of hand, lol.

—

October, 1994

Fox Mulder did not react the way Diana anticipated. She watched him crumble from the inside, watched him throw himself into fire and rail screaming against the night. This wasn’t just guilt and devotion, she realized. It was love: hot and soul-deep in a way she didn’t think he’d ever felt for her.

The thought burned acidic in her gut.

It was never a lie when she told him she loved him. She did, with all of herself that was able to love. There was just so much she couldn’t tell him, that he wouldn’t understand. Dana Scully might have been “good,” but such a position was relative, and to think her goodness more pure was naïve. On the deeper scale of history, wasn’t saving the human race better? Wouldn’t advances in genetics, and these future children, be the key to survival some day?

Diana looked down over her medical mask at the red-haired woman, petrified but immobilized, on the metal gurney. She dare not speak, lest the other woman recognize her voice, but she placed a hand on Scully’s arm—whether to comfort or reassert her own power, she wasn’t sure. Both, perhaps.

Now you’re a part of this, she thought.

Diana could tell the other woman wanted to scream, but the intravenous paralytic kept her from moving, tied her voice down in her throat, even as her belly distended for the hyperovulation.

We’ll be the same, she thought. They’ll have your future, too.

And when Scully died, whether from this procedure or the cancer that would inevitably follow, Mulder would be broken. Diana would be there waiting for him with open arms and open ears.

—

November, 1994

Scully was soft and fragile and freckled, teetering just this side of life and no memory of where she’d been. Mulder returned her cross to her: a symbol of both her faith and his, though not in the same things. When darkness came and her mother and sister had gone, he wielded his badge to reach her floor and stole back in when the night nurse took a break—even if Scully were sleeping, he needed to see her.

But she wasn’t sleeping. She was deep in thought with a reading lamp on, fingers clasped around the necklace on her chest. She looked up at the sound of the door.

“Hi,” he said.

She smiled at him, and he felt dizzy for a moment at the sober cobalt of her eyes.

“Did you sneak in?”

He frowned. “I don’t sneak, Scully. I deftly maneuver.”

She gave a slow nod of humoring agreement.

“Are you feeling okay? I was just going to sit for a minute and then sne— maneuver my way out.”

Another half smile before she scooted over, patted a space on the bed by her hip. He crossed the room to sit facing her, like she’d done for him in a hospital bed not long ago. He lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles, pushed her hair from her face with a gentle touch. His eyes carried a weight that looked like it could pull her down and drown her. It scared her a little.

“Mulder—“

“I thought I’d lost you,” he said, voice low and full of gravel. “It ripped me apart. I wasn’t sure I…” He breathed in once, twice, pushing down some dangerous confession. “They reopened the X-Files and I almost didn’t care. I only cared about finding you.”

Scully’s eyebrows went up at this. “They reopened the files?”

Mulder brushed his lips across her fingers one more time and then let them go. “Yes.”

“When?”

He shrugged. “About two weeks ago.” A pause as he considered how to frame his next words. “I don’t want to pressure you to make any kind of decision. I know you need time, and you may not want to come back at all—“

“I do.” Her voice so firm, so sure.

“Scully, there’s a very good chance someone took you because of our work.”

Her chin jutted up to cut the air with determination. “Then we can’t let them get what they want.”

He opened his mouth to speak, to argue, to say something protective and reassuring like that he’d be okay without her—a lie—but he swallowed it back. He wanted her with him, needed, couldn’t imagine his life without her now. “Scully…” a croak, an admonition, a declaration. He leaned forward and turned to lay his head on her pillow, pulling her back with him. He swung his legs up to lay alongside hers and curled his body around her.

Scully stiffened. This was a dangerous game—dangerously close to the mistake they’d already made. “Mulder, I—“

“Please,” he said. “I just need to hold you for a few minutes. I just need to know you’re really here.” She relaxed, softened against him, and after a moment let her head fall onto his chest.

“You’re married,” she said. “It’s not fair to—“ she swallowed around a click in her throat, “to her.” Or me, she thought. But her arm had come around his waist and her palm was on his back, under his jacket and t-shirt, warm on his skin. She wanted all of him around her like a cocoon. It was the safest she’d felt since waking.

“I know,” he said. He kissed the top of her head.

He didn’t let go.

—

It would be almost Christmas by the time they left quarantine, another whole month gone and so soon after losing time already. Alone in all this quiet sent Scully reeling into the blank void of her lost memory, grasping at scraps and finding only terror, meaningless sensations, dead silence but for the whir of horrible machines.

Scully doubled over in the dark, clinging to her own knees in oversized hospital scrubs. She heard a low keening whine. The drill—

the drill the drill the drill the drill the drill

But it wasn’t the drill. It was only herself, her own throat squeezing out that high, desperate note. She choked on it and sobbed.

She needed to work. She needed to be anywhere but alone with her thoughts and the cold, medical smell of antiseptics, waiting to see if she’d sicken and die like the others.

Welcome back, she thought.

—

Less than two weeks left and neither of them showed signs of infection so they were given permission for contact. Mulder was practically banging at the door, ready to tunnel between their rooms to see her. Unlocking the passage between them was like the crack of gunfire at a race: he was off in a heartbeat.

What he found on the other side of her door was a pale, limp creature, wrapped in blankets and staring at the ceiling.

“Scully!” he rushed to her bed and checked her pulse, felt her throat and her cheeks. She felt warm, but not flushed. “What’s wrong?”

Her eyes focused on him and her lips trembled. “I tried not to think about it,” she said, “but I was alone again.” He sank down beside her, watched her wrestle with herself, biting her lips and forcing herself to sit up. She was collecting composure from every last reserve. “I’m sorry. I’m okay.”

He touched her face again—he couldn’t help it. “You’re not okay.”

For a moment, she leaned her cheek into his palm, eyes closed. She breathed deeply while silence hovered. When she finally spoke, nothing could have prepared him for her words.

“Do you love your wife?” she asked.

It was like a record scratch, a slap, a T-bone at an intersection. “What?”

His hand dropped back onto the bed, and she opened her eyes to look at him. “This is dangerous, Mulder. Whatever this is—“ she waved her hand between them, “—it’s very confusing.”

He nodded. “I know.”

“Do you love her?”

Mulder looked away, grappling with his own demons. “Yes. I do. I did? God, I don’t know.” He’d thought what he had with Diana was love, but now he wasn’t sure. Diana was a low thrum of lust and comfort. Whatever this was, it felt monumental, volcanic, planetary, cosmic.

Her voice was low and dry, like wind through leaves. “I won’t do this, Mulder. I won’t be the greener pasture or give her reason to hate me more. That’s not fair.”

“I know it’s not.”

“You’re my friend,” she said.

“Yes.” He thought of her naked under him, soft and unbearably sweet, pink-cheeked and mewling with pleasure. He felt like he’d swallowed fire.

“When you touch me…” She couldn’t finish. “I need to respect your marriage. Or I can’t respect myself.”

There was something in the way she said it that made him realize there was more—something she wasn’t telling him.

“Okay.” Still, he didn’t stand. When she looked up at him, her eyes were hooded, dark, hungry. Being this close to her was dangerous. He didn’t trust himself.

And he was stupidly in love with her, he realized.

He bent to kiss her, and she didn’t resist. She opened and softened and tasted like honey. He’d kill for her. He’d rip the world to shreds for her. He wanted to let her go, but he couldn’t—not after he’d felt this. It was danger love, cataclysmic love.

When he pulled back, her lips were swollen and the freckles stood out on her nose in the dim light. There was no regret her eyes, nor in him: only need.

“I’m not sorry about this,” he said, and he gave in.

—

January, 1995

In the real world of D.C., they put their professional composure back together. They were polite, protective, and professional—if somewhat flirtatious. Scully wouldn’t allow things to move beyond that, not in the city where they lived and worked, but the memory of how he felt over her, under her, inside her was never far away. It seeped in when he was giving slideshows and pinkened her face. She ached to touch him.

But he was married, and that thought would always follow the desire and fill her with a too-familiar shame. By some miracle, Scully had managed to avoid seeing Diana Fowley in the intervening months—was, in fact, terrified of running into her again. When it finally happened, she was shattered, knocked flat by the encounter.

She and Mulder had been working over lunch when Diana walked in, shoving her into panic mode and skyrocketing her blood pressure. Then the woman spoke, and everything came undone.

“Agent Scully,” Diana said, as if surprised to see her. “I was sorry to hear about what happened…”

Diana kept speaking, but Scully had stopped listening. The look in Diana's eyes, their shape and the pitch of her eyebrows rolled a tumbler in her mind.

no no no no no no no

Cold sweat broke out on her upper lip and she felt her face go white as blood left her and she was blanketed with terror. The machines, the drill, the hard metal slab...

Diana had been there in that cold, medical place.

Scully remembered.

—

End Part 2

Go to Part 3

[mshroom1e]

Bus Buddy | Idia Shroud x GN! Reader

A fic written based on a scenario that happened to me today but wasn't as interesting as I wrote it out to be lol

type: fanfic

Summary: A short and sweet fic where you meet a cute stranger on your bus ride home and have a few interactions with him.

851 words

Warning(s): none

Snow descended from pale, overcapacitated clouds. Freckles of ice and sleet silently bounced from foggy glass windows of the large vehicle. Passengers stood idly, most of them on their phones while some burrowed their noses into woolen scarves around their necks to generate some sort of heat and take refuge from the nipping cold. Thankfully, it wasn't too crowded.

A young man who looked about your age entered with his head down and his hood up, quietly scanning his bus pass and quickly heading to look for a seat all while making minimal eye contact with the people around him. The pelting outside didn't take as kindly to him as it did to you as his black jacket with neon blue lining was dotted with specks of snow that looked like bright stars in a clear night sky. Although, the snow that would've been on his head top was all defrosted and reduced to tiny splotches of water.

Despite his head behind hung low, you managed to make out a pair of shimmering amber eyes as well as firey blue hair that managed to peek out from under his hood. A pair of headphones on his head were also visible.

Brief eye contact was made with him before he quickly averted his gaze from yours and took a seat a diagonal row in front of you. As he sat, he adjusted a large bag that accompanied his person, and a soft clack sounded. Though, it seemed no one else heard it as there was no reaction to the sound other than your own. Your eyes trailed over to the amber-eyed young man and soon to the floor beneath his seat where an ID card lay. That was probably what had fallen on the ground.

You contemplated whether or not you should alert him of his floored belongings, then when you decided on informing him, you debated with yourself on how you would do it.

Picking it up for him was out of the question and a definite invasion of personal space as the fallen card was right next to his foot. If a stranger suddenly bent down to pick up something that was barely an inch away from your leg, you would be quite alarmed too.

The plan in your head was cut short as your stop came into view. As you walked past him to leave the bus out of the exit doors, you gently tapped his shoulder and felt his entire body tense. He turned his head, a little robotically towards your direction with an alarmed expression.

Wordlessly, you pointed to the floor on the ground with a comforting smile and his gaze followed. His alert contorted into a look of realisation before he frantically scrambled for his fallen item with a barely audible squeak and shoved it in his pocket.

Once the bus came to a stop, you quickly exited before sending one last look towards the anxious stranger. It seemed to be the perfect time as he was also looking at you. His eyes were the colour of molten citrine with flecks of gold that looked like shattered stars. The blue tips of his flickering hair faded into a soft shade of pink before he averted his eyes.

How cute.

The next week, the same stranger entered the bus at the same stop as he did previously. Seats were all taken and his eyes frantically looked around to find a free space. He stopped when he found one next to you, then shifted his gaze to meet yours. You sent him a reassuring smile, one that was friendly and void of any hostility, inviting him to take a seat next to you.

Silence overtook the majority of the ride as the most contact between the both of you was touching elbows or the outsides of your feet after a few series of awkward shuffling. It was rush hour and traffic was usually very dense, however, it was escalated by the rain and slow movement of surrounding vehicles.

After about twenty minutes, soft pat on your shoulder startled you, and you looked in the direction of the stranger. He was out cold, eyes shut and blue flames delicately framing his face. He must've been exhausted to fall asleep so suddenly on someone's shoulder. A little awkwardly, you shuffled to a position where you could both be comfortable and let your body relax.

There wasn't much else to do when someone was unconscious on your shoulder so your eyes slowly trailed over to him and found an ID badge that was tucked into a lanyard around his neck. It was the very same ID badge that catalysed your first interaction with him.

A small image of his face and unique blue hair was on the glossy plastic. He had a timid, uncertain expression, as you imagined him to have, and his hair was in full view. A sharp contrast to how he usually appeared before you with his hood concealing most of his head.

Under the picture was a name you assumed to be his. It read,

'Idia Shroud'.

[sysba]

cal x edith - first kiss

[cal belongs to @night-triumphantt ] wc: 1.2k a/n: this week had valentine's day and ockissweek and well, i'm equally bad at both but i drabbled caledith first kiss for my and judie's eyes lol there's 2 parts before this because they literally take like a year just to confess i hate them sm anyway enjoy void i'm not gonna proof read shit

“Christ, I’m beat.”

Edith winces when her back hits the counter. The shop looks nothing better than it did a few hours ago; knocked-over boxes of music records everywhere, papers and books all over the floor, and the clock marking 11PM as she sighs.

From his less-than-comfortable seat on that same floor, close as he can be without letting his knee touch hers, Cal smiles at her. 

“I can finish this up. Maybe you can get some sleep upstairs?” 

‘Should’, ‘could’, ‘maybe’... Cal somehow mastered the art of caring for Edith without ever telling her what to do. It works, most of the time. 

But this time he’s not even done talking and she’s already objecting, so he rushes to add, “I don’t mind! Really. It’s been a busy day, and you haven’t stopped for a moment.”

Neither has he, but it doesn’t seem to matter much. Edith shakes her head almost too fondly, a little scoff of amusement leaving her lips before she takes a swig of her drink (an abominable mix of tequila and Kahlúa with far too much of the latter to be called appealing).

She seems to consider something for a moment, eyes narrowing just barely as she nibbles on the inside of her cheek. 

“Maybe we should just leave it. Close the shop for a day or something.” She says it nonchalantly but frowns once she notices the odd look on Cal’s face, who’s staring at her with a mix of concern and confusion and a secret third thing. “What?”

“Nothing,” he replies a bit too quickly, a deer in the headlights stumbling on his words, “I, uh… You never take a day off, it took me off guard.”

He’s mumbling, but his low voice reaches her anyways because she clicks her tongue at him in mock offence– Cal doesn’t even notice, too distracted by the playful smile that follows.

“Yeah, well,” Edith nods towards the mess surrounding them with something like resignation. “All things considered, we might deserve a break.”

Cal huffs a small laugh at that, but neither of them shows any sign of wanting to get up. It takes him a moment before he goes back to his task, patiently sorting through a bunch of vinyl. 

Edith makes no move to stop him, apparently too engrossed in her drink. He thinks her cheeks are a bit darker, but whether it’s the alcohol or a trick of the dim lights he’s not quite sure.

There’s a comfortable silence lulling them, the first they’ve had in a while; they haven’t really been able to share a space like this lately, not without a pervading sense of awkwardness making either of them run away at the first occasion.

In fact, they’ve barely ever been alone for more than a couple minutes for the past few months. Not ever since–

Hoping Edith won’t notice, Cal subtly shakes his head to try and banish the memory of their last real conversation. It doesn’t work, it never has. 

‘You love me.’ Her accusation rings loud in his mind even months later, still vicious, still true. 

He can still taste that same bitter desperation he felt as she walked away that time. The metallic taste of it sits on his tongue, and he can’t seem to swallow it down, so much so that he almost begs her to stay once again.

He looks at Edith once more. Her eyes are closed now, head tilted back to rest against the counter, offering the full sharp curve of her neck to him; it’s odd, seeing her so vulnerable. Like a nerve exposed, a jugular eagerly pressed to a blade. There’s something almost sacrificial about it, and it’s gratifying.  

Cal can see every detail of her even in this dimness, from the waves of her hair meeting her broad shoulders to the long shadows of her lashes on her cheeks (and what he can’t see he can make from memory, like the faint freckles on the tip of her nose and the ever-present cracks on her lips).

Her chest rises and falls quietly, rhythmically. The sight is so peaceful that when she speaks it takes him a moment to register she’s awake. 

“Edith?”

The corners of her lips curl a bit.

“I wanted to say it back,” she mutters again, and this time he catches it. Her eyes are open now, but she doesn’t look at him. Not yet. 

“That day, after you…” she lets the sentence hang in the air, gesturing vaguely. 

After he almost said it. Not that she needs to explain that, of course. It’s wonderfully, cruelly poetic how she brings it up now, in the very same room.

“I thought about saying it, but then I got– scared, I guess.” 

She grimaces as she says it, teeth clenching around the ‘scared’ as if admitting it is physically painful. Cal swallows hard.

“Scared of what?” He whispers because somehow, somehow he knows anything louder would be a mistake.

“You.” 

The single word is a knife to his lungs, it knocks the air out of him and has him bleed the unspoken. She smiles again, sickeningly sweet, all glossy eyes and heated cheeks. 

“You scare me the most, y’know.”

He’s sorry. It hurts.

“I’m sorry, I–”

“I’m scared whenever I see you. ‘Cause I look at you and I’m just, ‘Shit, I’d do anything for you!’ And I’m pretty fucking sure I actually would, which is… Terrifying.” Her words come out in an almost sleepy chuckle, slurred and rushed and self-loathing. “Scares me whenever you leave, too, because then I’m always waiting for you to come back. ‘S a bit pathetic, really.” 

She’s finally looking at him. Was her gaze always this warm?

“I know what it means, now. You looking at me like that.”

I’ve been looking at you like this the whole time.

Even when she didn’t look back.

Cal’s heartbeat is so loud he can barely think, barely breathe. But he asks anyway. 

“What?”

He doesn’t understand what’s happening until her lips are ghosting over his (when did she lean in?) and he thinks he’s stopped breathing altogether. She tastes like sugar and coffee and a little bit like blood, and she kisses him as if she’s done so hundreds of times before.

Practised, familiar, with her thumb stroking his cheek and his hand clinging to her t-shirt. How she always cares for him out of habit, and how he chases her without even realising it– they kiss in that same way, like they’re saying both hello and goodbye.

Edith’s palms feel searing against his jaw, but she’s smiling, and Cal thinks he’d burn painlessly if they actually were.

“You love me.” 

It’s not an accusation anymore. 

I love you, does that scare you, too? I love you I love you I love you–

“I love you,” she says it before he can, and he looks so bewildered that she laughs. “That okay with you? You’ve gone real quiet on me.”

“You, ah… I–” He tries once, twice, and then a few times more till he can knit the three words together. “You love me?”

She hums, looking serene and maybe a bit drowsy.

“Quite so.”

[silver-heller]

Since canon inspires you, I would like to give you the floor to explain where your soft Mordecai headcanons come from, please! /pos

Obviously all interpretations are valid but I wanna hear more about yours specifically!

Ooo this is a fun one! Thank you for the ask, sorry it took me so long to get to it. Putting this under the cut cause I know I'm gonna ramble.

So, I'll be honest, a lot of it comes from the side comics, since we get to see what Mordecai is like outside of work and with those he's closest to.

However, I do think Mordecai's treatment of Freckle within what we've seen in the comic so far is notable. So, let's start there!

Mordecai's Treatment of Freckle

Freckle is...easy pickings, to say the least. He's a skittish lad who isn't used to being face to face with people like Mordecai. Mordecai could, quite easily, scare someone like Freckle into submission if he wanted to, whether it be for his own gain or satisfaction. Yet, during the lunch, mostly between Asa and Mitzi, and even after Mordecai just leaves Freckle alone. Freckle orders literal chocolate milk in front of the man and the most Mordecai does is give Asa a look (which is later implied to be because Asa mentioned "warning Atlas) and leave the table instead of teasing him lol. Aka, Mordecai doesn't appear mean to me for no reason or even out of a sadistic or malicious drive.

Mordecai is only down right antagonistic to Rocky (in this specific scene), but this is only after Rocky gets in his personal space and calls him "ol' serious face". Rocky was definitely being affectionate but, I think to Mordecai it just came off as rude. Poor guy has to deal with people commenting on his "serious demeaner" constantly within the comic and he's clearly pretty fed up with it. Yet, at the same time, his insult to Rocky also serves as a double edge sword of insulting Mitzi as well, his real target.

Which is to say he is quite cruel to Mitzi, but, he believes her to be complacent in Atlas' death. Mordecai's meanness appears to come from either the stressed state he's in or because he's cagey and feels he has a reason to attack. Doesn't mean it's justified, just that, again, it's not coming from an overly mean spirited place.

So let's look at those side comics when Mordecai isn't as stressed, shall we?

The Side Comics

The side comics showcase Mordecai in a more relaxed environment and we get to see him actually show genuine care and interest in people. Tannenbaum is one example. Yes Mordecai claims the reason he gave Viktor the tie is because he wants to "encourage better wardrobe choices", but despite his uncaring and icy demeaner, the fact he went out of his way to either buy or select a tie specifically for Viktor can't be overlooked.

In Valentino he attempts to give a woman making eyes at him a smolder. He doesn't appear attracted to her, the only reason he does it seems to be because she was expecting and waiting for it, potentially to make her stop staring. He seems to have a thing about that.

The result is terrifying, but, Mordecai was trying his best and wasn't genuinely trying to scare her.

In Wassail we see Mordecai and Viktor accidentally scare some carol singers. Mordecai doesn't yell at them for interrupting. He just politely says the equivalent of "not now please". Meaning his default is polite unless he's given a reason not to be/something about someone rubs him the wrong way.

In Sophistry, Mordecai playfully has a conversation with Rocky about what is best, pancakes or waffles. It's just a lot of fun babble, showing Mordecai is capable of that despite being dead serious about his job.

In Flirting we see Mordecai be very cold and dismissive to a woman flirting with him...only to realize Mordecai just completely misunderstood he question and spends the rest of the comic attempting to rectify his mistake.

Even when he's accused he isn't mean to either of the women he is speaking to, he just attempts to redirect the conversation.

Mordecai also does dance with her at the end! Probably because he just got tired of the staring but, I like to think a part of him did feel a little bad for the mix up.

In Expedition Mordecai, as he usually does, criticizes Viktor for his uncleanly look. But he's only criticizing Viktor for it because of how it might make them look, rather than just being a bully and calling Viktor "ugly" due to a personal opinion.

Conclusion

So, really it all just comes down to "whenever Mordecai is mean it's because he feels attacked, sees himself as serving some kind of purpose through his harshness, or doesn't realize how harsh he sounds". This doesn't mean I write him as being soft all the time. He still loves to argue with Viktor and it did take him some time to understand Silver's sensitivities, plus there's specific reasons why Mordecai ended up being so gentle with Silver, but that's another post (that I am definitely making after this lol). This is a very good set up for how I view Mordecai's motivations when it comes to niceness and meanness though.