#I tried so hard and still failed you in the end

[giannaln4]

For you? Anything.

lando norris x fem reader

summary: Even during the worst week of you life, and no matter how tired he is, Lando would do anything to make you feel better.  (2.6k words)

warnings: fluff, established relationship, language.

a/n: And we are back to our regular schedule! Kinktober is officially over (kinda, more context here) so it's time to post regular fics. So, I wrote this sometime last week before the shit show of yesterday's race so that's why there are no mentions of it, but I do have some planned about that so we'll see when I can work on them. Anyway, this is for me and all the girlies who have been feeling stressed about work, let me know what you think!

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What a week it has been for you. You had done nothing but work on a stupid project your boss put you in charge of. It was very short notice, and the due date was creeping up on you faster than you would’ve liked. 

The good thing is Lando had been away for weeks due to his job; not that you didn’t want to see him or that he was a distraction, nothing like that, but you always preferred to be with him instead of working, which isn’t something you would be able to do this time due to the amount of things you had to go over, but with the house all to yourself, you had the chance to get tons of work done.

It was finally the day of the presentation; you were supposed to pitch the finished project to management and honestly, you weren’t 100% confident in the job you had done. Usually, you were never too harsh on yourself, but with so little time to work on it, you knew there were some parts here and there that could’ve used a little more of your attention, but it was either use what you already have or show up with an unfinished project, so that would have to do. It wasn’t terrible; you were sure of that, but these people always found something to complain about.

You were there for only a few minutes before you were dismissed. What a fucking joke, you thought.

You didn’t even get half the presentation done, and the old dudes sitting across from you were already attacking you with questions, questions that didn’t even make sense or barely fit the theme of what you were trying to talk about. 

Your boss was the one to send you out, saying something like “You have another week; we hope you’ll be more prepared next time,” before standing up and leaving the cold conference room, followed by the rest of the men that were surrounding him.

Only minutes after going back to your office you saw him come in, giving you notes on the things he thought you should work on. As the polite girl that you are, you just nodded and wrote down whatever he was saying, apologising for not turning it up on time, but as soon as he left, you couldn’t stop the tears from falling down your face, ruining your make-up in the process. You still had half of your day ahead of you, so you calmed down, washed your face, and went back to work like nothing happened.

At the end of the day, however, that’s a different story. You went back home completely devastated. All those sleepless nights you spent with your nose buried in your laptop felt like a total waste. 

As you drove back home, you tried your best to hold the tears, but it was getting harder by the second, especially with each step you took down the hall that led to the door of your apartment, and when you made it there, you started crying as soon as you closed the door behind you.

You instantly got rid of your uncomfortable clothes and got into one of Lando’s shirts, curling up in your bed and letting all that consuming and irrational feeling of failure sink in. You knew you weren’t a failure; you were well aware of your worth, but you couldn’t help but feel like that after miserably failing the presentation you worked so hard on.

Suddenly, the front door opening pulled you out of your thoughts. You let out a loud sigh as you left the bed. You knew it was Lando coming back from his last race, and any other day you would’ve been happy to see him, running to the door to greet him with a hug like he deserved, but right now, you didn't want him to have to see you in that pathetic state.

You stared at yourself in the mirror for a moment, sighing again when you realised how obvious it was that you had been crying, so you’d just have to avoid eye contact.

“Hi baby,” Lando greeted you with his usual pretty smile as he entered your room.

"Hey,” you replied, immediately turning around and walking towards your desk, sitting facing away from Lando as you opened your laptop.

“Did you sleep okay last night? How did your presentation go?” He walked closer to you and wrapped his arms around you in a tight hug, kissing your temple.

“It was okay.” He stopped when he noticed your heavy mood. 

"You alright, love? You seem down." His brows were slightly furrowed as he tried to make eye contact.

​​"Yeah, fine. I think I’m just gonna work on it a little more; there were some things missing that I need to include," you replied, clearly lacking energy.

“Hey now, let’s not do that." Lando turned the chair over to make you face him. He looked down and noticed your glossy eyes, a worried feeling growing inside him. “Talk to me, please. What’s wrong?”

You just shook her head briefly, a lip-tight smile covering your face. “Everything’s fine.”

“Y/N…” The slip of your name past his lips made you want to cry again. Of course you wanted to be comforted by your boyfriend, but you didn’t like the thought of him having to pick up the pieces anytime you messed up. As a tear rolled down your face, you realised that you didn't have the energy or even the desire to push him away “Oh baby, come here.”

Lando took your hand as he sat on the floor next to you, pulling you onto his lap. Your face was now buried in his black hoodie, the tears wetting it instantly as he brushed a hand softly up and down your back.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you." He would understand if you didn’t want to talk about it but would still like to know what was happening. If there was anything he could do to help, he would gladly do it. “Do you wanna talk?”

“I just-” A sob cut you off, “I- I couldn’t do it, even after everything I did, it wasn’t enough.”

“Is this about your presentation?” He asked, his voice softer than ever, and you simply nodded. “It’s alright-”

“No, Lando, it’s not alright. I worked hard to get it together, to get it ready for days and nights and I still failed, I’m so stupid-”

“Hey, baby, look at me," he interrupted you, pulling back a bit and gently lifting your chin to look into your eyes. “You know that’s not true; you’re so smart, and I've always admired your beautiful mind. You gave it your best, like you said, you worked really hard, and even if you didn’t get the reaction you deserved, you know I’m right here.” You simply nodded at his words as the back of your hand wiped some of the tears. “Why didn’t you wanna tell me?”

"Because I don't want you to be disappointed in me like I am right now." You looked down to your lap as more tears fell from your tired eyes.

“You should know that I could never be disappointed in you, Y/N. You are so intelligent and kind; I’ve never met anyone with such a beautiful soul, so I don't ever want you to feel down about yourself because you are perfect." You felt both of Lando’s large hands caress either side of your face, bringing it up so he could look into your eyes again as he swiped at the tears that had managed to escape from your eyes.

The slight smile that had formed on your tear-stained face told Lando that his words meant something to you, and they did. “You’re only saying that because you’re my boyfriend.”

“No, I’m your boyfriend for all those reasons." You giggled slightly. “And I’m sure that no one would disagree with me.”

“My boss would.”

“What does he know?” That made you laugh again, making Lando smile, a smile so sincere that told you he believed everything he just said.

"Thank you, baby, even though you’re being a little biased." You sniffled as you gently stroked the hand that was still on your cheek, keeping your eyes locked with his “I love you.”

“I love you more,” he smiled, pressing his lips to your forehead. You took a deep breath, feeling a lot calmer than you did five minutes ago as you looked at your laptop briefly. 

“I should probably get back to work, though; I have to basically remake the whole thing and meet with them again next week.”

“What? Right now?”

“Yes, right now. I’m sorry.”

“Are you sure you don’t wanna go to bed? You look pretty tired. We can cuddle, I know we both need it.”

“I would love to,” your gaze fell on your bed momentarily; it looked so comfortable, and it was literally calling your name, “but I really need to get this done, and I have to do it right this time. I don’t wanna be embarrassed again in front of a bunch of old dudes.”

You stood up from his lap and sat back on your desk, focusing on the screen in front of you as you began to analyse what you should take out and what you needed to add. 

Lando just sighed. He knew there was no way he would get you to stop working if you already set your mind to it, but honestly, he thought he would get to spend every second with you once he got back home, so needless to say, he was a little disappointed that wasn’t the case.

He got it though; your job was important for you, and you would never settle for anything unless it was perfect. What made his blood boil was the fact that your boss had the nerve to make you feel like you weren't worth it. 

“Did you eat something already?” He asked you, getting up from the floor and wrapping his arms around you once again.

“Uh- I’m not really hungry.”

“Why don’t I cook something for us? What do you say?”

“It’s okay, baby, you should go to bed.” You tilted your head to look at him and give him a quick kiss. “I know you are tired, the triple header couldn’t have been easy.”

You started collecting your things so you could take over a different part of the apartment. He had been travelling for weeks; it wouldn’t be fair to keep him up just because you needed to get work done.

“Where are you going?”

“To your office, if that’s okay. I really don’t want to bother you.”

“You’re not-”

“Lan, I’ll be okay, I promise. Just go to bed, don’t worry about me.” Taking a few steps closer to him, you gave him a loving hug, “I love you.”

You left the room, holding everything in your hands as Lando just stood in the same spot. There was no way he would go to bed without you, not when you were feeling so down and it was clear you just needed to take a break.

Taking a deep breath, he started to make a plan in his head. He took the quickest shower of his life and got into something comfy, praying there was food, or more specifically, ingredients to cook you something that he wouldn’t mess up and that you would enjoy.

Everything seemed to be on his side when he found everything he needed to make some Alfredo. Everything was pretty much premade, so he knew he wouldn’t ruin it. He happily got to work, setting up a nice dinner as he hummed one of the songs that had been stuck in his head for who knows how long. 

In the office, you were nearly breaking your head as you read the information you had over and over again. You kind of knew what it needed to be since your boss gave you a few specific notes, but then again, you weren’t feeling completely confident in your own ideas. 

You didn’t realise you had been locked away for over an hour, your eyes getting insanely tired as you typed away. A break was needed and well deserved, and you were aware of this, but somehow it didn’t feel like you were making any progress, even though you had been working non-stop and you had already readjusted about half of the project.

A loud sigh escaped your lips as you abruptly closed your laptop, your face falling to your hands as your eyes felt wet yet again. That was it; there was no way you could keep going. You needed to grab a quick snack and head straight to bed. You did have an early morning the next day after all. 

Just as you were gathering all your strength to get up, you heard the door open, making you jump a bit.

“Fuck, you scared the shit out of me.” You laughed as your hand fell on your heart.

“Sorry, love. Didn’t mean to scare you,” he giggled, walking towards you.

“What are you doing still awake? I thought you went to bed.” 

“I couldn’t sleep without you. Are you almost done here?” He looked at your closed laptop, celebrating internally as he assumed you were done working for the night. 

“Yeah, I guess. My brain stopped working, so I thought my future self can worry about the rest tomorrow.”

“Good. Come here.” He extended his hand out to you, which you happily took. “Please stop overworking yourself, you know this isn’t healthy.”

“I know,” you let out a sigh as you accepted his embrace. “I’m seriously thinking about quitting. Who knows, maybe I’ll find something that doesn’t make me feel this stressed all the time.”

His hand was caressing your back softly as he pulled away to look down at you. “You know you can, right? And I really think you should. I make enough to support the both of us and even a family in the future... Baby, you don’t have to keep working there if you don’t want to.”

His words made a smile appear on your face. Not because he was offering to basically support you for the rest of your life, but because he brought having a family with you. “You know I’d never let you do that-”

“But if you do want to quit and just take a break, you can do that too,” he interrupted you. You nodded, seriously considering it, but that was something you would have to think about and have a serious conversation in the future if you ever did decide to do it.

“We’ll see. Right now, I just need something to eat and some sleep. I have to get up early tomorrow.”

“Speaking about dinner, I made something for you.”

He took your hand and guided you to the dining room, a big smile on his face as he proudly showed off the beautiful set-up and the (hopefully) delicious dinner he managed to cook. He looked back at you expectantly, but his happiness quickly turned into a worried look when he noticed tears falling from your eyes again. 

“What’s wrong, baby?” He asked, a hand softly falling on your cheek as he leaned down. 

You were out of words; you truly didn’t know what to say. This is just what you needed, and the fact that he went out of his way to do it for you meant a lot more than he could ever imagine.

“I- Lando, this is-” you cut yourself off when you couldn’t find the right thing to say, so you just jumped in his arms and gave him the tightest hug ever. “Thank you for everything. And I mean everything.”

He let out a sigh of relief, hugging you back as he buried his head on the crook of your neck. “For you, my love, I’d do anything.”

[dontbesoweirdkira]

A/N: Had this in my drafts and i just needed to know i'm not alone.... Just thinking about possessive Dick Grayson being a sloppy and disgusting kisser. PLEASE HEAR ME ON THIS. errr this is a drabble that is kind of unfinished but you get the vibesss. There really no plot...just wanted an excuse to draft up this though so.....

Warnings: suggestive not full blown nsfw....

request: always open

masterlist

He'd have you pinned under his body the moment you entered the apartment. Your wrists were pinned together by just one of his hands and your legs were locked in between his muscular thighs. It hadn't taken much to completely subdue you like this, though you fought as hard as you could, you were helpless up against someone as skillful as he. He's ever so cocky about it at first too as his hot tongue trailed down the side of your neck until your body slightly twitched. ugh! He found a new sweet spot and it peaked his interests. You probably thought your loving partner wouldn't notice, huh? Oh, he notices everything, no matter how minor it may have been ...just like when he noticed how that person was eyeing you earlier.

"Be good and stay still for me. You don't wanna make me unhappy, right?"

You could feel his lips purse up into that cocky smile of his as he let out a chuckle. It was sly, maybe even a little twisted in the way he let it out. His mind was revisiting how good it felt to put them back in their place. Oh just how terrified they looked realizing how much they fucked up by having the audacity to even think they had a chance with you. And for Dick be on top of you like this right now while they were probably limping home? Man, that creep would flip his shit if he could see this. It gave Dick too much of an ego to be the only one in the world who'd ever have the pleasure to do whatever they wanted with you.

While he soaked in moments like this, you hated it. His arrogance left a sour taste in your mouth. Dick didn't deserve to be rewarded for this poor behavior and think this was okay. You tried once more to fight and tell him how you seriously needed to talk about boundaries but it was useless.

That didn't surprise you tho. Dick had selective listening and was too self righteous to ever admit to his wrong doings. He was like a puppy who desperately wanted to play but couldn't grasp the concept that he just destroyed the living room and you're pissed off at him. . You could punish, scream and threaten him but Dick will never fail to get what he wanted in the end.

His tongue met with the crook of your neck and slowly made circles in place.

"i'll let you curse at me all night but please just be still and let me just-"

He let out a breathy plead before he was sucked back into his selfish desires. It was pathetic how quickly he could melt into you. He hadn't even done anything yet but the taste of you was enough to send his body into overdrive. Suddenly he was the one struggling to stay still. It was far too hot in this damn apartment and his clothes were too restrictive. It was evident he didn't exactly know what to do with himself even though he's done this a million times. He couldn't stop himself from becoming overly excited each and every time he had you like this. So eager to explore your body like it was the first time all over again. His one free hand slithering under your dress and grabbing onto anything that was soft and plump.

You could feel your neck being pulled at as his lips sucked on your sweat spot. You tried to remain upset and stiff as he left his love bite but it was hard when you had someone as disgusting as Dick all over you like this.

Your eyes nearly rolled into the back of your head when his lips crashed into yours, shoving his perverted tongue as far as he could inside your mouth without any warning. The sounds of Dick's lewd moaning and smacking of each others lips filled the apartment as he sloppily made out with you.

He was so shameless in the way he handled you. He constantly craved more. More attention...more affirmations....more you.

Dick doesn't stop until he's begging you with his big, blue eyes, hoping you'd forget all about what he did to upset you. come onnn and be a good owner....he really...reallly wants to play right now.

[jetii]

Too Sweet

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

Pairing: Fox x fem!Reader / Fox x Doctor!Reader

Words: 7,709/26,525

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! fluff, strangers to lovers, grumpy/sunshine, Fox is a little anxious/paranoid, and he needs a hug, Fox gets his hug, and a hell of a lot more, smut, fingering, oral (f receiving), handjob, praise kink, quite wholesome as far as smut goes

Summary: Fox has no time for romance. He doesn't even have time for sleep, let alone dates. But when a horrible day at work leads him to you, he suddenly finds himself in danger of reevaluating his priorities.

A/N: We made it! Everything is fine! Everyone is fine!

Fox is exhausted.

The night has been filled with nothing but reports, meetings, and arguments, and the stress of the situation has his nerves frayed. The Senate has been evacuated, and the Chancellor has relocated to a secure location, but the damage is extensive. The majority of the city is still without power, the lower levels in particular are cut off, and the lack of communications is making things even more difficult. The only things the Chancellor and the Council have agreed on is the need for a joint task force to deal with the immediate threat and instituting mandatory blackouts. 

The worst part is that the attack was almost too easy. Fox had been preparing for months, had been working tirelessly to stop a scenario like this from happening, and the fact that his efforts had failed is a hard pill to swallow. It makes him question everything, his abilities, his judgement, and the thought that all his planning, all his preparation, was useless is infuriating.

He rubs his temples, the fatigue hitting him like a punch to the gut. It's late, or early, depending on how he looks at it, and he's been going nonstop for hours. His comm has been ringing off the hook, messages and reports flooding in, and he hasn't had a chance to breathe.

But, despite his exhaustion, his mind is focused on one thing, or rather, one person.

He hasn't heard from you since he left, and the radio silence is driving him crazy. He'd wanted to comm you, to check in, but he'd been too busy, and the lack of contact is worrying. The longer he goes without hearing from you, the more anxious he gets, and by the time his shift is supposed to end, his mind is racing. He can't leave, not with everything going on, but the thought of you, alone, is making him crazy.

He tries to call you, but the comm goes straight to voicemail, and the knot in his chest grows. The lack of news, the not knowing, is the worst part, and the longer he sits there, the more restless he gets. Finally, he decides that he can't wait anymore.

"Stone," Fox calls out as he pushes away from his desk and stands.

"Sir."

"Take over for me."

"Are you going somewhere?" Stone asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes."

“Where are you going?" Thorn asks, his voice filled with concern. 

The other commander is leaning against the door frame, his helmet under his arm. His armor is scratched, and there are bruises under his eyes, but his gaze is sharp, and his stance is steady. Fox had been afraid that his brother would push himself too far, too soon, but the man had insisted on coming back to work, and the Chancellor had allowed it, so there wasn't much Fox could do.

"I need to check on someone," Fox mutters, and he grabs his helmet, pulling it on.

"Who?"

"A friend."

"You don't have friends,” Thorn teases. Fox rolls his eyes.

"A...a person," he amends. The words are out before he can stop himself. It's too soon, far too soon, but it's not like his brothers don’t already suspect. Besides, if things go his way, then they’ll be happy for him. At least, he hopes so.

"Oh?" Thorn raises an eyebrow, a grin appearing on his face. "What kind of person?"

Heaving a sigh, Fox brushes past him.

"The kind that matters."

It doesn't take long for Fox to make it to your apartment.

The city is eerily quiet, the streets deserted, the buildings dark. It’s early morning, the sky just starting to lighten, and the sight is surreal. There are no sounds, no traffic, no speeders, no sirens. Just the silence, and the glow of the sun, and the ash settling on the ground. It's an unsettling feeling, being in the middle of the city without a single person around, and the hairs on the back of his neck rise.

Fox climbs the stairs to your building and knocks on the door, the sound echoing in the silence. Power hasn’t been restored to the area yet, and the lights are off, the curtains drawn. He waits a moment, and then knocks again.

"It's me," he calls. 

He listens, but the only response is the sound of the wind, whistling through the empty streets. 

"Hey," he says, louder this time. "Open the door."

Still nothing.

His heart starts to race, his pulse jumping, and his mouth goes dry. Something's wrong, very, very wrong.

Fox pounds on the door. The noise echoes in the courtyard, and the sound of his fist on the metal is loud, far too loud. The silence is deafening, and his mind conjures a thousand scenarios, each more horrible than the last.

You have to be okay, you have to be. He can't handle the thought of anything happening to you, the idea that he'd been too late, or that he hadn't been able to protect you, is unbearable. If something had happened, if you were gone, he'd never forgive himself.

"Please," he begs. His voice is strained, the desperation bleeding through. The emotion in his tone is startling, even to him, and the realization of how much he cares about you is like a punch to the gut. He'd never cared about anyone like this before, had never let himself get so close. But now, with the threat of losing you looming, he realizes how much he needs you, how much he wants you, how badly he wants to have a chance with you.

Fox closes his eyes, the panic rising, his hands curling into fists.

"Please," he whispers.

There's a soft click, and his eyes snap open.

You're standing there, and you're alive, and Fox nearly collapses.

"Oh, thank the Maker," he breathes.

"Fox," you sigh. You throw yourself into his arms, and he catches you, pulling you close. His armor digs into your skin, but you don't seem to care, clinging to him with a desperation that makes his heart clench. “You came back.”

“I said I would," he reminds you. He presses his head against yours, his helmet bumping against your cheek, and he holds you tighter, his fingers digging into your back. "I'm here. I'm right here."

"I was so worried," you confess, your voice breaking. “My comm was crushed, and the power's out, and—"

"Shh, it's okay," he murmurs. "You're safe now. I've got you."

"Promise?"

"Promise," he breathes. "I'm sorry. I tried to get here sooner, but—"

"No," you protest. You pull back and press your hands to his chest plate, staring up at him. There are tears on your cheeks, and the sight is enough to make him want to break. You wipe them away and give him a small smile. "You don't need to apologize. I know how important your work is. You're here now."

"Yeah."

The two of you stare at each other, the tension stretching between the two of you, and then, suddenly, your hands are on the sides of his helmet, and his are cupping your cheeks, and the next thing he knows, his helmet is on the floor, and his lips are on yours.

The kiss is rough, and messy, and desperate. Your hands are tangled in his hair, your bodies pressed together, and he groans into your mouth, his arms wrapping around you. You taste like salt, and the smell of lavender surrounds him, and he presses closer, the contact making his stomach flutter. He'd never imagined kissing you, had never even considered it, but now, faced with the reality, he can't believe he'd wasted so much time.

You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into the apartment. He follows blindly, too distracted by the feeling of your lips against his, the sensation of your fingers in his hair. You're walking backwards, leading him, and his hands find their way to your waist. He grips you tightly, his fingers digging into your skin, and the sound you make sends a rush of heat through him.

You bump into your kitchen island, and he pauses, his mouth moving from yours to the skin of your neck. He trails kisses along your jaw, down the side of your throat, his teeth grazing the delicate flesh. You let out a breathy moan, arching into him, and his pulse jumps.

The two of you are frantic, your hands grabbing at each other, your bodies pressing together. You’re lifted onto the counter before he even registers what he's doing, and you let out a breathless laugh, your legs wrapping around his waist. The feeling of you wrapped around him makes him dizzy, every point of contact sending a rush of heat through him. His fingers fumble, and his body shakes, and he lets out a ragged breath, his forehead falling against yours.

"Is this okay?” you ask. Your fingers are tangled in his hair, your lips brushing against his, and the closeness is dizzying. He nods, not trusting his voice, and you grin, tugging gently on his hair.

"Yeah," he manages, his voice hoarse. He’s rewarded with a smile, the warmth of your lips on his cheek, and the gesture is so tender, so affectionate, that it steals his breath.

He's never had this, not with anyone. This connection, this closeness, this intimacy. It's exhilarating, and terrifying, and wonderful, and he can't believe it's real. That you're real. That this is happening.

And the fact that it's you, that the person who's finally broken through his defenses, who's gotten past the walls, is the person he wants most?

“Perfect,” he sighs.

The word is meant for you, but the meaning is universal. Everything is perfect, from the feeling of your fingers in his hair, the warmth of your breath against his skin, the weight of your body against his. The fact that you're in his arms, that he's kissing you, is the best thing he's ever felt.

Fox leans forward and presses a kiss to your jaw, and the gasp you let out is enough to make his stomach twist. "So perfect.”

"You are," you manage.

"No, you," he insists. He trails kisses down your neck, and you shiver, your hands clutching his shoulders. Your skin is soft, and the warmth of it is addicting, and he wants to taste every inch of it. "Sweet girl."

You moan, and the sound makes him smirk.

"That's what I thought," he breathes, his voice low. "You like that, don't you?"

"I like anything you do to me."

"Good," he murmurs, and he leans forward and presses a kiss to the skin above your shirt, his teeth scraping along the delicate flesh. "Because I'm going to do so many things to you."

Your response is cut off by the ringing of his comm, and the two of you freeze. Fox blinks, trying to regain his focus, and he reluctantly pulls back. The look on your face is disappointed, and a little dazed, and the sight makes him feel smug. It's a good look on you, he decides. Especially with him being the one who put it there.

"Hold that thought," he orders. 

You nod, your eyes wide, and he lets go of you, lifting his wrist. He moves away, and he watches out of the corner of his eye as you slide off the counter and make your way to the living room. You wrap a blanket around your shoulders and sink onto the couch, giving him a shy smile.

He smiles back and answers the comm, his eyes fixed on you.

“This better be good,” he snaps, his tone cold. He doesn't look away from you, and you let out a giggle, clearly amused by his demeanor. The sound is infectious, and the corners of his lips twitch, his eyes crinkling.

He gives you a wink, and you blush, burying your face in the blanket.

"Commander.”

"Stone," Fox sighs. He runs a hand over his hair, smoothing the strands you'd mussed, and he takes a breath. He can still feel your lips against his, and the thought of what might have happened, what still could happen, is distracting.

"Sorry, Fox," Stone replies. There's a grin in his voice, and Fox grits his teeth, turning away. “I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

"No," he snaps, glaring at the floor. "What do you want?"

"Thorn wanted to let you know that we're heading out on patrol. You still wanna join us?"

He glances over at you. You're watching him, the blanket wrapped around your shoulders, and the sight of you, warm and comfortable and waiting for him, is a balm on his frayed nerves. A wave of fatigue washes over him, and he turns away, his shoulders slumping.

"No.”

“No?”

"Are you sure?" Thorn cuts in, amused. "We can come pick you up."

"I said no," Fox snaps.

"Alright," he drawls. "Guess we'll have to manage without our fearless leader."

"I'm not your leader right now," Fox mutters. He can practically hear Thorn's eyes roll. "You don't need me, and I'm taking the rest of the day off."

There's a pause, and he can picture the shocked expressions on his brothers' faces.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means I have more important things to do," he mutters. He glances back at you, his heart skipping a beat. The sight of you makes his chest warm, and he swallows, the words sticking in his throat. Finally, he manages, "Don't call me unless the building is on fire, or the Chancellor is dead. And make sure the rest of them know, as well."

“Who are you, and what have you done with our commander?" Thorn demands. Fox rolls his eyes, his lips twitching.

"Just go," he orders. "I'll check in later."

"If you say so," Stone murmurs.

"See you later," Thorn adds. "Say hi to Doc for me."

The line clicks off, and Fox rips off his vambrace and tosses it onto the counter, the other one quickly following. He pulls off his pauldrons, and the kama and belt, his eyes fixed on you. You raise an eyebrow, clearly surprised by his actions, but the surprise on your face quickly changes to delight, your eyes widening, your mouth dropping open.

"Are you—"

"Off duty," Fox confirms. He crosses the room and sits beside you, pulling the blanket over his legs. The exhaustion hits him as soon as he's off his feet, and he groans, leaning his head back against the cushions. He closes his eyes, letting out a breath, and the tension slowly starts to drain from his body.

"Fox?"

"I'm fine," he assures you, trying to disguise the yawn that escapes. You snuggle closer, draping the blanket over his legs, and he wraps an arm around your shoulders, his fingers stroking the soft skin of your arm.

"No, you're not," you murmur. "When's the last time you slept?"

"Uh."

"Nevermind," you sigh. You rest your head on his shoulder, your arm wrapping around his torso. He tenses for a moment, the contact sending a rush of warmth through him, and he relaxes, pulling you closer. "It doesn't matter."

"Mm-hmm."

"I think you should rest."

"Yeah," he agrees, his voice fading. He's exhausted, the night finally catching up with him, and the warmth of the apartment, and the feeling of your body against his, is making him drowsy.

"Fox," you breathe.

"Hm?"

"Come here," you murmur, and you stand, reaching down. You grab his hand, pulling him up, and the two of you make your way down the hall. The apartment is dark, and he can barely see, but he trusts you, and you lead him without hesitation.

You pause in front of a door, and he blinks, his eyes adjusting. There's light spilling into the room from a window, and he can make out the shape of a bed, and the dresser, and the desk. You reach over, fumbling for the switch, and the lamp flickers on, casting a dim glow through the space.

"Is this your room?" he asks. His voice is hoarse, his eyelids heavy, and the fatigue is making his words slur.

You hum an affirmative as you lead him across the room and help him sit on the bed, his knees weak. You kneel and undo his boots, sliding them off his feet, and he watches, his heart skipping a beat The feeling of your fingers against his skin, the gentle way you're handling him, the sight of you, kneeling at his feet, is almost more than he can take.

"There," you say, smiling.

You stand, and he stares up at you, his eyes wide, his breath caught in his chest. You're a vision, an angel, the perfect woman, and the fact that you're even looking at him is a miracle. That you're touching him, taking care of him, is more than he deserves, and the emotion that rushes through him is so strong, so powerful, that his head spins.

"What is it?" you ask, frowning. "Do you need something else?"

"You," he whispers.

"Me?"

"Just...stay with me."

"Okay," you promise, nodding. You lean forward and press a kiss to his forehead. "I'll stay. Just let me change."

"Sure," he sighs, though the thought of waiting is disappointing.

"Don't go anywhere," you tease, giving him a smile. You turn and walk away, crossing the room, and Fox stares after you, a dumbstruck expression on his face. He doesn't look away until the door shuts, blocking his view, and he blinks, trying to clear his mind.

Fox looks around, his eyes falling on the dresser. There's a mirror hanging above it, and his reflection catches his eye, and he frowns. The bruises under his eyes, the gauntness of his cheeks, the paleness of his skin, all reminders of the long nights, and the stress, and the constant strain of his job. But underneath that, is a look of peace, of happiness, that he's never seen before.

You make him happy, he realizes. He hadn't known it was possible, but you're the first person who's made him feel like this, who's brought joy to his life. He'd resigned himself to his fate, had decided that happiness wasn't in the cards for him, but now, faced with the possibility of a different future, one with you, he feels hopeful.

The door opens, and his gaze shifts, his eyes moving to you.

"Hey," you murmur, crossing the room. You've changed into a pair of shorts and a loose t-shirt, and your hair is pulled up, leaving your neck exposed. He swallows, his mouth dry, and you give him a soft smile as you sit on the bed opposite of him.

"Hey," he breathes.

You pull the blankets back and gesture for him to move. He does, sliding into the spot, and you tuck the covers around him, treating him like he's fragile, like he's something to be treasured. It's an unfamiliar feeling, one he's not sure how to deal with, and he blinks, his eyes burning.

"Good?" you ask.

"Yeah," he nods.

There's a brief silence, and then you roll over and turn off the light, plunging the room into darkness. The only light is the faint red of the Coruscant skyline through the curtains, but it's enough. He can just barely make out the curve of your cheek, the shape of your mouth.

"Better?"

"Much," he agrees.

You turn, rolling onto your side, and he does the same, his eyes fixed on yours. Your legs bump together, and the sheets are soft, and the pillow is warm, and he's so, so tired. The comfort is welcome, and the exhaustion is starting to make him dizzy, his eyelids drooping.

"Thank you," Fox whispers.

"Of course," you murmur. You move closer to him, and your arms wrap around his neck. He's pressed against your chest, his head resting on your collarbone, and his hands find their way to your waist, pulling you against him. He wants to say something else, but his mind is fuzzy, and the warmth of your body and the feeling of your fingers in his hair is lulling him to sleep.

"Sleep well, Fox."

Your lips press against his forehead, and the softness of the gesture is his undoing.

He's asleep before you even have a chance to pull back.

Fox wakes up slowly.

The first thing he notices is the softness of the blankets. They're warm and heavy, and the fabric is softer than anything he's ever felt before. His second thought is that the mattress is far too comfortable. It's almost painful how much better it is than his own bed, and he groans. He doesn't want to move, doesn't want to get up. All he wants is to lay there, to drift, to soak up the warmth.

He shifts under the covers and breathes in, and the scent of lavender fills his lungs. His eyes fly open.

It takes a moment for the memories to return. He remembers the explosion, the chaos of the aftermath, the kiss, and then he realizes where he is. The panic hits him like a speeder, and his heart races, the shock waking him up.

He lifts his head, and the sight that greets him is enough to take his breath away.

You're lying next to him, fast asleep, and you look more beautiful than he's ever seen you. Your face is relaxed, your lips slightly parted, and the sunlight spilling through the curtains illuminates your skin. You're pressed against his side, the sheets tangled around your legs, and his arm is draped over your waist, his fingers curled into the hem of your shirt.

He watches you, his pulse slowing. All he wants to do is wrap his arms around you, to hold you close, to bury his face in the curve of your neck.

So he does.

You make a soft noise as he pulls you against his chest, but you don't wake. Instead, you snuggle closer, and the contented sigh you let out is the sweetest thing he's ever heard. He can't stop himself from leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

"Fox?"

You blink up at him, reaching up to cup his cheek. He turns his head and presses a kiss to your palm, and you let out a quiet sigh, smiling up at him.

"Sorry," he breathes. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"It's okay," you assure him, your fingers tracing the lines of his face. "I'm glad you're still here." 

He leans into the touch, closing his eyes, and the sound that leaves his throat is nearly a purr. You laugh, a quiet, sleepy noise, and he can't help but lean down and capture your lips in a gentle kiss. You hum and press closer, your hands moving to the back of his neck.

"Good morning," he whispers against your mouth.

"Good morning," you reply, and the smile in your voice makes him shiver. "Did you sleep well?"

"Very."

He kisses you again, his tongue brushing against yours, and your grip on him tightens. The two of you continue, his lips moving against yours, his hands cupping your cheeks. It's slow and sweet, and the intimacy of the moment sends a shiver down his spine. His mind is quiet, the stress and fear from the past few days gone, and all he can think about is the feel of your mouth, the taste of your tongue.

"What time is it?" he asks, breaking the kiss.

"Not sure," you murmur. Your hands move to his chest, and the heat of them makes his stomach twist. "Why? Do you have somewhere to be?"

"Nope," he breathes, and he captures your lips in another kiss. He runs his hands up your sides, feeling the curve of your waist, the softness of your skin, and his cock starts to harden, his hips jerking forward. "I've got time."

"Good."

The next kiss is harder, faster, and his tongue slides against yours, your hand trailing lower, lower, lower. Your fingers brush against his abs, tracing the lines of his muscles, and then you're gripping the hem of his shirt, pulling it up. He leans forward and helps you take it off before lips are on yours again, and your hands are wandering, roaming over his body, touching every inch of skin you can reach.

"What are you doing?" he teases.

"Touching," you murmur. He hums as your nails scrape over his stomach, his muscles jumping, and then your hand is trailing lower, over the line of hair that leads down to his waistband.

"Keep going," he orders, his voice hoarse.

Your eyes widen, but you obey, slipping your fingers beneath the fabric. The feeling of your hand wrapping around him makes him groan, his cock twitching. He's fully hard, his tip leaking, and you let out a whimper as you run your hand over him.

"That's—" He cuts himself off with a hiss as you slide your thumb over his tip, spreading the precum over his skin. His head falls forward, his forehead pressing against yours. You're staring up at him, a smirk on your face, and the heat in your eyes is dizzying. "Stars," he groans. "Fuck, that's—"

Your grip tightens, and his hips jerk, the movement involuntary. The noise that leaves his throat is low and desperate, and you let out a breathy laugh, kissing him again. The slide of your lips against his, the stroke of your hand, is addicting, and his eyes drift closed, his breaths coming in ragged gasps.

"That's not fair," he mumbles against your lips.

"No?"

"No," he sighs, and the feeling of your mouth moving to his jaw, trailing kisses over his skin, sends a wave of heat through him. "Not when I can't—"

You bite down, and he lets out a strangled moan, his hips bucking. His eyes fly open, his hands digging into your waist, and he presses his head against yours, his breaths coming in gasps.

"You're distracting me."

"I know," you breathe, grinning. "What are you gonna do about it?"

Fox rolls you onto your back and moves between your legs, grabbing your wrists and pushing them up above your head. You let out a breathless laugh, but the amusement on your face quickly turns to shock, and you moan, the sound music to his ears.

"My turn," he murmurs.

He releases his grip and kisses you. His hands move down your sides, his fingers digging into the soft fabric of your shirt, and then he's tugging it off, exposing your breasts. He leans down and presses a kiss to the hollow of your throat before nuzzling against your breasts, his hands squeezing them, his fingers brushing over your nipples.

"So pretty," he whispers.

You whimper, the sound soft and needy, and Fox feels his cock jump. He kisses a path down your chest, hooking his thumbs into the waistband of your shorts and tugging them off along with your underwear.

He sits up and looks at you, his eyes roaming over your naked body, taking in every inch. Your chest is flushed, your cheeks pink, and your legs are pressed together, the blush extending down to your thighs. He bites his lip, his eyes flicking back up to yours, and you shiver, squirming under his gaze.

"Look at you," he breathes, and he reaches down, grabbing your ankle. He lifts it and presses a kiss to the arch, and you shiver, the soft skin twitching. His hand runs up your calf, over the curve of your knee, his lips following the same path. He trails kisses over the inside of your thigh, and the closer he gets, the more you squirm, your eyes locked on him.

"You're shaking," he points out, and he smirks, nipping at the delicate flesh. "Do I scare you?"

"N-no," you manage, and he grins, licking a path up the length of your thigh.

"Then why are you so nervous?"

"I—oh!"

His hands grip your thighs and spread them, and you gasp, your head falling back. Fox leans forward and runs his tongue over your slit, his nose bumping against your clit. He does it again, and again, the movements slow and deliberate. Your hands grip his hair, your hips rising off the bed, and the moan that leaves you sends a rush of heat through him.

His hands move under you, lifting your ass off the mattress, and he pulls you against his mouth, his tongue sliding inside of you. The taste of you is better than he'd imagined, the softness of your folds addictive, and he can't stop, his head moving, his mouth sucking at your clit. He keeps going, his tongue teasing the edges of your opening, and the noises you make, the breathless cries, the moans, the gasps, are driving him crazy.

He's lost in the taste of you, the feeling of your body against his. He's never done this before, never had the opportunity, and he's shocked at how much he loves it. The weight of you against his tongue, the slickness of your skin, the way you're shaking, it's all so perfect, and his cock is leaking, his hips grinding against the bed, trying to find some friction.

 He groans and buries his face against you, licking and sucking, his eyes drifting shut. Your grip tightens, the pain almost too much, but the feeling only adds to his arousal. He's never wanted someone so badly, has never been so desperate to please.

"Fox," you sigh.

"So sweet," he whispers. "So good."

He keeps going, his lips moving against your folds, and you squirm, the motion making him hold you tighter. He glances up and sees that your head is thrown back, your eyes closed, and the look of bliss on your face makes him groan.

"Look at me," he orders.

Your eyes fly open, and you stare down at him, panting. He presses a kiss to your clit, and the moan that leaves your lips is low and desperate. Your gaze stays locked on his as he sucks on your folds, his tongue darting out to taste you. Your face is flushed, your cheeks stained with pink, and the look of desperation in your eyes is mesmerizing.

"Please," you whine. "Please, I need—please."

Fox chuckles and pulls away. He sits up and grabs the back of your thighs, pushing your legs apart and pinning them to the bed. Your hands grab at the sheets, the fabric bunched in your fists, and the sight is beautiful.

"You close, sweet girl?"

"Yes," you gasp.

"Need me to fuck you?"

"Please," you beg. "Please, I want—I need—"

"Shhh," he soothes. He lets go of one of your legs and reaches down, trailing a finger over your pussy. You let out a low whine, and he grins, the expression hungry. "Gonna make you feel so good."

"Yes," you gasp. "Yes, please—"

Your words cut off by a moan as he pushes his fingers into your cunt. The feeling of you, wet and hot and tight, makes his head spin. His cock throbs, his hips jerking, and he presses his free hand against his stomach, trying to calm himself. The urge to fuck you is nearly unbearable, but he wants to see you come first.

"Feel good?" he asks.

"Y-yeah."

"Such a good girl," he praises.

His fingers move faster, his thumb rubbing circles over your clit, and your back arches, a desperate moan leaving your lips. You're soaking his hand, and he groans as the wetness drips down his fingers.

"So beautiful," he whispers. "Such a sweet girl."

Your eyes drift shut, and he lets out a displeased growl.

"Open your eyes," he orders.

Your eyes snap open. You look at him, and the trust, the affection in your gaze, is staggering. The intimacy is intense, and the realization of how deeply he cares for you, how much he needs you, hits him like a speeder. It's far too soon, but he can't help it, and the emotions make his heart skip a beat.

"Good girl," he breathes.

"Fuck," you sigh. "I'm close."

"Yeah? Gonna come for me?"

"Y-yes," you gasp. "Yes, please—"

Your mouth falls open, and you let out a low whine, your thighs shaking. The tension in your body is unmistakable, and the thought that he's the one who's brought you to the edge is addicting.

"Come," he orders.

The effect is immediate.

You gasp, and your back arches, and Fox feels the tremors run through you. Your walls clench around his fingers, and your head falls back, a hoarse cry leaving your throat. The sight is so erotic that Fox can't help but stroke himself. He squeezes the base of his cock, and a strangled groan leaves his lips.

"Fuck," he pants. "Fuck, that's—fuck."

He pulls his fingers out of you and brings them to his mouth, sucking on them, moaning as your taste fills his mouth. You're panting, a sheen of sweat covering your body, and the sight of you, spent and satisfied, is almost too much.

"I want you," you murmur, and the hoarseness in your voice is arousing. "Please."

"Yeah," he replies, his voice rough. Fox leans forward and presses a soft kiss to your mouth, and you hum, pleased.

"Need a minute," he confesses, and you nod, giving him a small smile.

"Of course," you breathe. You sit up and grab his shoulders, pulling him down until he's lying next to you. You turn and wrap an arm around his chest, throwing a leg over his hips, and he shivers as your bare skin presses against his.

"You're too much," he grumbles.

"Too much?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"Because," he mutters.

"Hmm."

You shift, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. Your lips move lower, trailing across his collarbone, and Fox shivers, his cock twitching. The sight of you, naked and sprawled out over his chest, is addicting. He can't resist reaching down and cupping your ass, squeezing the soft flesh. You hum, pleased, and he squeezes again, his fingers digging into your skin.

"That's not helping," he mutters.

"I think it is," you reply.

He can't argue with that.

Your lips press against his skin, and he lets out a sigh. You're tracing his scars, kissing the marks on his chest and shoulders, your fingers running over the pale lines. The sight is entrancing, and he closes his eyes, his breathing growing slow and steady. You keep going, pressing a kiss to every part of his chest. You trace the outline of the scar that runs down his stomach, the mark that stretches from his hip to his knee, and the one that runs along his neck.

You press a kiss to his bicep and squeeze his arm, letting out a hum of approval. "This healed nicely."

"I had a good doctor," he teases.

You snort and press a kiss to his chin, and Fox leans forward and captures your lips, pulling you closer. He rolls onto his side, and his hand runs down your back, tracing the curve of your spine. Your leg is still thrown over his hip, and his cock is pressed against the heat of your core. You shiver and roll your hips, rubbing against him, and he groans, his grip tightening.

"You ready?"

"Yes," you breathe.

"Good."

He presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth and hitches your leg up higher, pushing himself between your thighs. You're warm, and the wetness from your cunt is dripping down his length, and the sensation makes him grit his teeth. He takes a moment, letting himself get used to the feeling, and then he's pushing forward, easing his way inside.

"Fox," you sigh.

The sound of his name falling from your lips makes him shiver. You're so wet that he slides in easily, but the heat of you, the tightness, is dizzying. His mind blanks, the sensations threatening to overwhelm him, and all he wants is to be as close to you as possible.

"So good," he breathes. "Fuck, you feel—so good, sweet girl."

He bottoms out, his hips pressing against yours, and he pauses, taking a breath. He can't stop staring at you. Your cheeks are pink, the flush extending down to your breasts. Your eyes are closed, your lips slightly parted, and the way you're squirming against him, trying to pull him closer, is maddening.

"Look at me," he pleads.

You open your eyes, and the expression on your face is so tender, so affectionate, that his breath catches. The heat in his chest burns hotter than before, the emotions rising.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs. "So fucking perfect."

"Thank you," you breathe. "You feel—"

"Yeah?"

"Good," you sigh. You roll your hips, grinding against him, and the movement makes him moan. He thrusts forward, unable to resist, and you let out a gasp. "So good."

"Good," he growls.

His grip tightens, and his hips rock forward, his cock moving inside of you. The feeling is addicting, the slide of his cock into your cunt is better than anything he's ever felt. He wants to be closer, wants to be deeper, wants more, and he thrusts forward, pressing himself as deep inside of you as possible.

"So good," he sighs. "So sweet."

"Don't stop," you beg, and you bury your face in his neck, pressing kisses to his skin.

"Not gonna," he promises.

Fox picks up the pace, and the sounds coming from your lips are almost as satisfying as the feeling of being inside of you. He's never had someone so eager, so responsive. Every time his hips snap against yours, you make a sound, a whimper, a gasp, a moan. Your walls are fluttering around him, and he's lost in the sensation, the closeness, the intimacy of the moment.

It's not just the sex. It's the fact that it's you, that it's your body against his, that he's touching you, holding you. He's wanted this for so long, had convinced himself that it would never happen. But here you are, and you're his, and it's everything he's ever dreamed of.

He presses a kiss to your temple and wraps his arms around you, the position forcing you closer. He can feel every inch of your body, the softness of your skin, the curves and angles. His hips move faster, harder, and your grip on him tightens, your nails digging into his back. The pain is a shock, and he moans, his eyes fluttering shut.

"Fox," you whisper.

"Right here," he assures you.

"More," you beg. "Please."

"Okay," he murmurs. "Anything."

He rolls you onto your back and settles back between your thighs, grabbing one of your legs and hiking it up over his shoulder. He grabs the other and does the same before leaning forward, bracing his hands on either side of your head. The new position has him even deeper, and you gasp, arching up.

"Fuck," he gasps.

"Feels so good," you manage. "So full."

"Yeah?"

"Yes," you sigh.

The new position gives him more control, and he wastes no time. His hips snap forward, his cock sliding into you, and the new angle has his tip brushing against your g-spot. The effect is immediate. Your hands fly to his arms, your nails digging into his skin, and a ragged moan leaves your lips.

"There," you gasp. "Right there."

"Yeah?"

"Please," you beg. "Right there."

He doesn't know how long it lasts. Time slows, and his vision blurs, and all he can focus on is the feeling of you, the sounds that are falling from your lips. The tension in your body grows more intense with each thrust, and the heat inside of him grows hotter.

"Gonna come," you whisper.

"Good girl," he breathes. He kisses you again, and his hips snap forward, the force of his thrusts making the bed shake. You let out a whimper, your head falling back, and Fox kisses the line of your jaw, nipping at the delicate skin.

"Please," you gasp, and the desperation in your tone makes him groan. "I'm so close."

"Me, t-too," he manages. "Can I—"

"Yes," you promise.

"Fuck."

He picks up the pace, reaching down between the two of you. He's dripping with sweat, and his skin is hot, and the feeling of his fingers sliding over his cock is almost unbearable. He presses his thumb against your clit, stroking it in time with his thrusts, and you let out a hoarse cry, your walls clenching around him.

"There," you sigh. "There, there, there—"

You cut off with a sharp cry, and Fox feels the rush of warmth, the flood of slick coating his cock. The sensation is more than he can handle, and he comes with a grunt, his eyes closing as the pleasure hits him. His hips jerk forward, and he buries himself inside of you, pressing himself as deep as he can.

"Fuck," he breathes, and the word is shaky. He's not sure if it's the stress, or the adrenaline, or the emotions, but the feeling is intense, and it leaves him trembling. He slumps forward, his forehead pressed against your chest, and his eyes drift closed, his heartbeat echoing in his ears.

He stays there for a moment, enjoying the feel of you wrapped around him, the warmth of your body, the softness of your skin. Finally, Fox lifts his head and rolls off of you, flopping onto his back. He stares up at the ceiling, his breaths coming in ragged gasps and the sweat cooling on his body. His mind is silent, his body spent, and he can't remember the last time he's felt this satisfied, this calm.

"Fox?"

He turns his head and sees that you're watching him, a hesitant expression on your face. He smiles, and you smile back, the uncertainty leaving.

"Hey."

"Are you okay?" you ask.

"Better than okay," he assures you, grabbing your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours. He brings your hand to his lips and presses a soft kiss to the back of it, and the flush on your cheeks grows darker. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," you nod.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

You reach up and cup his cheek. Fox closes his eyes and leans into the touch, humming quietly.

"So," you start, clearing your throat. "What happens now?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean..." Your voice trails off, and you let out a frustrated noise. Fox opens his eyes and looks at you. You're staring up at the ceiling, a frown on your face.

"I like you," he says, his voice soft. "A lot."

"I like you, as well," you murmur. You turn to look at him, and the hope in your eyes is unmistakable. "I've liked you for a while, actually."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you nod.

"Then I think that's a good start." He licks his lips, his mind racing. "I'd like to continue seeing you. I mean, dating. If you're open to it.

"Oh," you breathe, and you blink up at him. "That's what you want?"

"I understand if you don't," he replies. His voice is steady, though his heart is pounding. The thought of you rejecting him is almost unbearable. "It's a lot. The hours, the job, everything."

"No," you shake your head. "I mean—yes. Yes, I want that. With you."

"Really?"

"Yes," you laugh. You lean forward and press a kiss to his cheek, and Fox feels his heart skip a beat, his stomach flipping. "Do you really think I'd say no?"

His mouth twists, and he glances away, his jaw clenching. "I've never done this before," he confesses. "I've never been...with anyone. Not in a way that meant something."

"It does mean something," you assure him. You reach up and cup his cheek, your thumb brushing over his skin, and he sighs, leaning into the touch. "It means a lot."

"Yeah?"

"Mm-hmm."

Fox reaches over and pulls you against his chest. Your fingers dig into his shoulders, and you settle against him, letting out a soft sigh.

"So," you prompt, "when can I expect a date?"

He huffs out a laugh. "We'll have to sync our calendars."

"Sounds fun," you tease. Your hand trails lower, over his chest and down his stomach, and the sensation sends a shiver through him. You press a kiss to his neck, and he hums, tilting his head to give you better access. "I'll see what I can do."

"Good," he sighs.

"For now," you continue, your fingers trailing down his abs, "I have a question."

"Hm?"

"Are you hungry?"

He laughs, the sound loud and genuine. He reaches up and cups your cheek, and you smile, a bright, beautiful expression. "Starving," he admits.

"Then let's get cleaned up, and I'll make us some breakfast," you decide. You lean forward and press a soft kiss to his lips, and his arms wrap around your waist, holding you against him. He can feel the smile against his mouth, and the sweetness of it, the warmth, makes him sigh.

"You really are the perfect woman," he murmurs.

"And don't you forget it," you warn him. You climb off the bed and reach for his hand. "Let's go."

"I'm going," he assures you. He lets out a breath and slides off the bed. "After you."

"Chivalrous."

"I do my best."

He follows you down the hall, his eyes fixed on the curve of your back, the sway of your hips. The sunlight spilling through the window is illuminating your skin, making it glow, and the sight is stunning. The fact that you're his is almost unbelievable, and his head is spinning, the realization of what he's done finally hitting him.

Fox knows that his life will be a long series of bad days. He's aware that the work will be grueling, the stress will be unbearable, and the pressure will be almost suffocating. But now, looking at you, knowing that you'll be waiting for him when he gets home, he realizes that he doesn't care. As long as you're there, he'll be fine.

And he'll fight like hell to keep it that way.

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@kashasenpai @kkdrawsdecently @Isaidonyourknees

[wonwovy]

𐔌 KMG ⋮ MODEL HEADCANONS ⸝⸝

⋆.˚ warning ! this content contains nsfw, if you are a minor please do not interact.

model!mingyu who is a world renowned model with many fashion covers & high end brand deals.

model!mingyu who heard of a new rising star model, aspiring to be as successful as him.

model!mingyu who had gotten the news that he would collab with said model for the monthly vogue cover, which he felt quite curious to see what was all the fuss about you.

model!mingyu who was quite stunned by your gorgeousness & beauty when he finally met you but managed to mask it, giving off a nonchalant vibe.

model!mingyu who tried ignoring you as much as he could because he wouldn’t let his rich playboy persona crash down just because of a pretty thing like you ( which he failed miserably afterwards. )

model!mingyu who tensed a bit (a lot) when the photographer instructed him to cover your breasts with his big veiny hands.

model!mingyu who smugly smirked seeing you getting all flustered when the photographer told you said pose. but he certainly wasn’t having the last laugh. when you both finally got into the position, mingyu felt his little friend say hello and to say his cheeks flushed pink was an understatement.

model!mingyu who zoomed into his private room as soon as you finished today’s set, purposefully ignoring you, taking care of his little problem.

model!mingyu who got held back by you as you finally got to the chance to speak to him. “h-hello mingyu-sunbae, thank you for today I’m so honored to be in shoot with you let alone a vogue cover” you sheepishly smiled in awe by his striking visuals then greeting all the staff in the room & thanking them for their hard work.

model!mingyu who just sat there giving a slight smile not sure what to say to you, clearly not wanting to embarrass himself infront of you. “thank you y/n” he finally managed to say trying to act calm. but quickly wished he just shut up & sat there smiling, who would say that?! he thought.

model!mingyu who sighed, relieved as everybody left his room for a break.

model!mingyu who slid his hand slowly to his raging boner, his mind going back to when he felt your tits, god he was a pervert for thinking about your sweet perky boobs.

model!mingyu who groaned as he palmed himself steadily but picking up his pace gradually as his filthy thoughts grew.

model!mingyu who got quite vocal as he chased his high, grinding his hips when his hand came in contact with the base of his long, girthy cock, creating some kind of new friction.

model!mingyu ‘s pleasurable feeling turned into a startled one as the door swung open revealing none than you, “o-oh my sunbae! I apologize for barging in, I-i thou-“ you stopped your speech as you finally the sticky (quite literally) situation that he’s in.

model!mingyu who was quick enough to cover himself but not quick enough to explain his well… current state, as you already have cracked it out. a satisfied smirk forming into your lips “wow sunbae seems you have a problem here” you giggle coming close to a still hard mingyu. “you know you’ve caused this right” he groaned as you sat between his legs, looking oh so pretty & not so innocently innocent.

model!mingyu who pulled your hair up so you would meet his beautiful brown eyes “it’s only fair for you to fix it yeah, angel?” a shit-eating grin on his lips as he leaned back, spreading his legs to offer you more access. obliging to his demands, licking the pinkish tip of his shaft. you lapped his tip a few more times before taking him whole till your chin nudged his balls.

model!mingyu who threw his back when you began to give him the messiest & filthiest head known to man, tangling his hand in your hair once again as he began to thrust his cock into your mouth, taking control over you “f-fuck gonna gag you with my big cock” he moaned out continuing to throw some more dirty words as his high came close.

model!mingyu whose seed gushed into your mouth with some of it dripping on your chin, creating a lewd but still beautiful look on your face “swallow it for me, baby” he squished your cheeks gently. gracefully gulping down his cum the salty bitter sweet taste painting you throat. “good girl” he pecked your lips. “you know mings, you did a good job for ‘professionally’ meeting me” you giggled as you & mingyu have been in a secret relationship for six months now.

model!mingyu who let out a hearty chuckle while he dressed up “god baby, you’re driving me crazy here” he said helping you stand up “remind me to thank you back at home” he whispered in your ear then softly kissing it.

boyfriend model!mingyu who can’t wait to get home to ruin his pretty little girlfriend all over again.

boyfriend model!mingyu who thanks god that no one can see you like this but himself.

boyfriend model!mingyu who hoped that no one catched your little raunchy act.

boyfriend model!mingyu who gave your bum quick slap and winking before going back to the shoot acting as if nothing happened.

⸝⸝ dividers by @/cafekitsune

⸝⸝ big thanks to @junkissed for proofreading this !!

[narutoandanimearemyheart]

GOOD WITH WORDS: PLATONIC KAKASHI X STUDENT! READER

Despite being seemingly aloof, Kakashi Hatake was a very observant man. Especially when it came to his students. He instantly knew when something was wrong with any of them, even if they tried to pretend as if they were okay.

That’s how he instantly noticed that you weren’t okay. Your downtrodden expression always said everything. It was written all over your face. Now Kakashi wasn’t the best at dealing with emotions, but if he cared about someone enough, he would try his best, and you were one of his students so of course he would comfort you.

He had found you in the woods all by yourself throwing a kunai at a target on the tree angrily, you looked so frustrated. He had expected you to feel that way, you had embarrassed yourself during training, and you were the last of your teammates to understand a new jutsu technique.

He came up to you and you jumped as you saw him, “Oh! Kakashi-Sensei, I didn’t notice you..” you said in a startled tone. He gave you a closed eyed smile behind his mask and you could see that was smiling due to the way his mask shifted and how his eyes still crinkled. You personally didn’t understand why he didn’t just take off his mask. What on earth was he hiding behind that mask?? That’s what you, Sasuke, Sakura, and Naruto were all trying to figure out, but had been rather unsuccessful.

“You seem to be rather down in the dumps after this mornings training session.” You frowned, of course he noticed. You hated feeling like you were the last one to understand things on the team, and you hated failing. You were a bit of a perfectionist and always wanted to get things right, you hated failing and you always pushed yourself to extreme levels. That’s why when you couldn’t master this one chakra control technique you were beating yourself up over it, and resorted to throwing kunais at a target until you felt better.

“Because I failed.. I was the only one who didn’t understand the technique. Even Naruto understood it before me.” Kakashi chuckled and spoke “Ah that’s rather odd isn’t it, but you have to give it to Naruto, he’s very persistent and hardworking, which you also are, but your downfall is that your belief in yourself is low. You can’t become a full fledged Shinobi if you don’t believe in yourself. Believing in yourself is the key, because even hard work and determination can only get you so far.” You sighed, you knew that you had low belief in yourself, and that a pessimistic and negative mindset would never get you anywhere as a Shinobi, however you couldn’t help, you just had a pretty bad self esteem. Kakashi spoke softly “You know, I used to have a teammate just like you.. well not similar in personality, similar struggles. He always struggled with the Shinobi arts, however he got better, you know why? Because he always believed in hard work. He proved himself at the most crucial moment, and so can you. All he did was just believe in himself and have some guts. At the end of the day that’s really what you need in the end.”

You slowly nodded, belief.. no wonder all of your teammates were improving so quickly, because they believed in themselves. You really had to get your act together if you wanted to achieve your goals. Belief was so important, all of the great shinobis of the leaf would have never gotten to where they are today if they hadn’t believed in themselves, even Naruto himself wouldn’t be improving so much without the unshakeable faith he had in himself.

While you were still uncertain you took your sensei’s words to heart and nodded. “Thank you Sensei.. I’ll try to believe in myself more.. I can’t make any promises but I will try and do my best.” You spoke confidently. “You’re a strong kunoichi Y/N and you have a lot of potential, don’t let your insecurities get the better of you, you wouldn’t want all that talent and hard work to go to waste.” Even though Kakashi wasn’t the best at dealing with emotions, when he tried to be, he was a rather good comforter.

Kakashi had to admit, you teminded him of his former teammate Obito. Obito in the sense that you were determined and hard on yourself when you didn’t live up to your expectations, and be insecure about your strength and falling behind your teammates. You however just needed to have belief in yourself, and you’d shine, just like how Obito did in his last few moments.

“Thank you Sensei. I promise I won’t let you down.” He glanced over at you. “I know you won’t..” He then walked away humming softly to a tune you didn’t quite understand, but you felt a new sense of determination within you. You could master this technique, and you would. While you were still uncertain you knew you had to take a chance. As Naruto always said hard work meant nothing if you didn’t believe in yourself.

Who knew that your seemingly aloof and nonchalant Sensei could be so good with words. That man was truly full of surprises. With the wind in your hair, you felt more confident than ever before.

[pinkaditty]

Who's Passing NNN? Tokyo Debunker

sigh

a/n: this is extremely low effort but in my defense im pretty sure i was drugged on halloween. *ahem* originally this was SUPPOSED to be low effort but clearly i got way too into it. anyways. i’ve been working a lot lately which is why i don’t have many works out rn! i work weekdays from 8 in the MORNING so it’s a lot going on but i use what little free time i have yk? ntm i have MULTIPLE projects im also working on 4 a different site so it’s a lot. i don’t think anyone’s gonna read this but im working on being a vtuber so its lots of prep lmfao! and with that, my weekends are mostly spent sleeping or with friends, but i really enjoy my work. ill be going back 2 school eventually so i need 2 figure out how the hell im gonna make that work, but i will. amen. pray 4 me y’all. oh also reqs r still being worked on i promise. just gotta get this fucking schedule under wraps.  anyways. this came 2 me on a random sunday (betraying the lord as usual) and i decided. lets write porn. i wanna do something silly bc my friends have been panicking abt climate change and its rubbing off on me. amen! quick disclaimer that i write these under the assumption the tokyo debunker boys are at least 18 years old. they appear to be present at a university considering there are professors and a chancellor. not to mention the boys drink, smoke, gamble, and refer to themselves as adults.

summary: who out of the tokyo debunker boys will pass nnn? who will fail? cliche i know but let me have this

cw: jerking off i guess. mc mentioned but no physical appearance described. MINORS DNI!!!!!!! Frostheim || Vagastrom || Jabberwock || Sinostra || Hotarubi || Obscuary || Mortkranken (before you ask vagastrom and jabberwock r already written jus not posted yet)

MINORS DNI AS PER USUAL TY FOR RESPECTING MY BOUNDARY!

Frostheim:

Jin Kamurai: Pass

Pretty touch and go with this guy. He’s never heard of it before, so when it’s a sudden trend around campus, he’s not visibly piqued, but he is… interested. Outwardly, he’d think it’s absolutely fucking ridiculous. Inwardly? He’d want to do it to prove something to himself. Of course, on the rare occasion he has an odd dream… well, he prioritizes his own pleasure over some pathetic game. 

He finally wakes up from a rather interesting he just had after lounging around and avoiding his work. You’re supposed to be coming soon to drop off some documents. Maybe that’s why you were in his dream. Hmph… What, he dreams of his… servants, now? Rolling over proves to be a challenge when his half-hard cock jumps at the slightest shift of his sheets. Now this? Well, he won’t hesitate to take care of it. A simple pillow will do the trick. In mere moments he’s humping into a large pillow, burying his face in one end and thrusting his hardening clothed cock in the other end. The friction more than satisfies his needs. He’s so focused on it that his vision swims, most of his body going slack except for his arms squeezing the pillow taut to his chest and his hips insistently searching deeper, warmer, and wishing for wetter, tighter. When it’s all over, and his focused expression melts into a slack-jawed, bleary-eyed one, he knows he’d much rather stay here, in his sheets. His warm, sticky release, however, will eventually turn uncomfortably cold, and he knew you were on your way. 

Tohma Ishibashi: Pass

He’s participating because he knows Jin is participating. That’s really all there is to it. He’s not interested in any clout or anything, just thinks it’s funny. He doesn’t do this too frequently, but often enough to keep his rocks off, you know? Sometimes, though, he doesn’t really get any free time for months cleaning up after Jin, so… It’s those times that are more interesting. 

He tries rather hard to go slow for the sake of savoring it, but fails miserably - it’s been months, after all. His uniform is much too hot to be doing this in, but god forbid he waits another minute. A sweaty collar and cum-stained slacks could be washed, anyway. Despite starting with slow strokes, before he knows it, his hand is wrapped around his dick, rubbing furiously like there’s no tomorrow. His other hand claws into the bedsheets beneath him, pulling them every which way. His face contorts into a number of different expressions: his jaw clenched tight and his eyes narrowed harshly, or his jaw slack with his tongue lolling out and his eyes rolling to the back of his skull, or even his lips pressed tight together to stifle moans with his eyes screwed shut just as well. Regardless, he’s enjoying himself and desperately trying to keep a hold of himself. Finally, when the wave of pleasure comes, he presses his face into his pillow, knowing it’s hopeless to attempt to keep quiet. He spills more than he intends every single time, and when he collapses on himself, feels his dampened body melt into his equally dampened sheets. His hair is disheveled, his uniform is sloppy, and his monocle slips off his face. Fuck. He’d have some washing to do. 

Lucas Errant: Pass

Do you think this guy masturbates? Like genuinely? I don’t doubt it but I think if he was challenged to go a month without it he’d manage fine. I think, at best, he does it when he’s so fucking exhausted from studying that he can’t focus. 

Like, he’s studying one night. An itch makes itself known, but it’s easily suppressed. He smoothly focuses on his work. The itch rises again. He ignores it again. His leg begins to twitch. He ignores it even more. His leg starts bouncing without him realizing it. He presses a hand down on his knee, purposely avoiding touching his thighs, and attempts once again to focus on his work. The itch spreads, reaching from his groin to his legs, slowly crawling up his back. He still stifles it and forces his eyes to absorb the words on the paper of the book in front of him. The itch reaches his neck, creeping up his spine to his face. Suddenly, he’s flushed, and he realizes that, despite his best efforts, here he sits: half-hard, not absorbing the information in the book, his breathing heavy and his vision swimming. Damn! He allows himself the slightest freedom, knowing that will lead him to the gates of release whether he wants that or not. When he’s covered in his own sticky release a few minutes later, clarity hits him at last. He bites his lip and suppresses a groan as he stuffs himself back into his pants, shaking his head to rid himself of the cloudy orgasmic feeling. Finally, back to work. 

That being said, November is a cinch… unless this happens. 

Kaito Fuji: Fail

I don’t need to explain myself I think lol! Horniest virgin on the face of the earth. Yes, he fails, to thoughts of you, at that! I’m even willing to bet the one time he tries, he fails accidentally via wet dream. Sucker! It’s surprising, though… When he puts his mind to it, he really can keep his hands off himself… for less than a month. 

It’s late at night and he’s not studying, rather rolling around in his bed, back and forth, trying to resist the insistence of his cock, pressing into the mattress at full mast. He huffs face first into his pillow, feeling his cock strain against his underwear. He could stand this for a little longer. Just a little longer… November just started, sure, but if he beat his record of one week, that’d be accomplishment enough for him. He has to resist the urge to whine as he rolls over again, his cock pressing and pressing and pressing against all things within reach. He rips the covers off of him, frustrated, feeling warm from the heat of his arousal anyway. He could get through this, right? His fingers grip his shirt collar, bunching it into his fist. His other hand gripped his phone, as though using it to ground himself. He shifted the screen to his face. Maybe he’d be able to find something to take his mind off of things. He opens WickChat and scrolls, searching for a distraction. However, the gods must be against him, because all he can do is open his chat with you, and pretend you’d sent him nudes. He tosses his phone back onto his bed, clenching his hand into another fist before it could drift any further towards his groin. He bites furiously on his fingernails, burying his face into his pillows. His cock continued to beg for attention. 

a/n: well, i hope u enjoyed! im so tired and i have work in 6 hours. goodnight lmfao!

note that i appreciate likes, comments, and reblogs!! im not open for reqs atm, but please feel free to just hop in 2 give little random thirsts or something, i don't mind!

[gofancyninjaworld]

Y'know, I'm not entirely comfortable with the way webcomic Garou has ended up

While Garou has kept a low profile since being defeated by Saitama, I think we've seen enough of him to start getting a general impression of what he's up to. I have to say, I'm not entirely happy to see how he is. Garou has become very subdued, working hard, keeping his head down, and avoiding trouble as much as he can. That sounds good on the surface, so what troubles me about it?

dutifully working away

First, he is not a twenty-something manchild who ought to know better being given a slap and told to straighten up. Reigen beating down the 7th Division of Claw and telling them off was entirely merited. Garou is eighteen[1]: he's a boy on the cusp of adulthood, and he's a kind and moral person who is really struggling to see what positive impact he can make. That's why he decided on the expansive and overly simplistic idea of unifying the world against him. For sure, he needed shutting down, but he needed building up too. I think he needed more guidance than just being told to pay for the food he stole.

He needed a bit more than that.

Second, something I know about ONE is that he doesn't have his characters change suddenly. Change, in his books, is realised through day-to-day changes. Even if a character's behaviour changes suddenly, their character hasn't changed: for example, Superalloy's behaviour may seem to have shifted suddenly, but it's grounded in the fact that he was always a fearful and insecure person... and his coping strategy has failed him, and so what we see is him flailing. When I see a dispirited Garou colouring carefully in between the lines and looking to cause no offence, I don't see a suddenly mature man. I see a child afraid to step out of line. And that saddens me.

It's not that I want him back to his hero-hunting days: that too, was an inauthentic expression of who Garou is. Honestly, the heroes have enough problems without yet another person beating them down. But I think he's a bit lost. I think he really needs someone like Bang to reach out to him and help him discover what it is he really wants to do next.

And that's okay, by the by. We all need guidance sometimes. Especially at points of transition.

Cultural Note

[1] While the law has changed recently, at the time ONE wrote these chapters, the age of majority was 20, not 18. ONE is still writing OPM without reference to the recently-changed IRL law. Understanding that is necessary to understand why Garou was released to Bang's care in the manga, and why the Hero Association reached out to his parents first. You also need to understand that to appreciate why Saitama took the alcholic drink away from Tatsumaki when she tried to offer it to Genos in the OAV.

[suusoh]

(pwp or something idk. just got horny in the tags of my last post about eddie not looking anywhere else but at his wife and only his wife while doing his husbandly duties.)

cw: female reader, sex, eddie's orbs, overuse of the word staring because I want you to start feeling annoyed and maim this man, slight yandere (maybe if you squint?) cheesy and unfunny frank valli reference at the end.

———

he's staring at you again.

Eyes fogged with a love sick haze in them at the absolute sight of you, his wife, all warm, soft, and pliant under him. You try to close your eyes from time to time, but even when you open them again— it just comes back to the first thing you see which is this man on top of you, mouth switching between grinning and gasping, and eyes wide open.

"...Eddie?"

"He hums tenderly. "What is it, dear?"

"I-I.. can you just-"

It's so hard to talk when his hips don't stop moving despite his concern. The weight and absolute mass of him on top of you and grounding you into the bed with each thrust makes it all the more harder to think straight.

Thoughts on how to sound out your request begin to blur and buzz out with him fucking into you like this. In and out, in and out, inside of you. over and over again as he buries himself deep within your cunt. your pubic bone practically connecting with his, and sending sparks of heat inside your belly with each time he ruts himself into you.

"Just what? What does my darling wife want?" He starts searching your face for any indication or answer to complete it for you what you want him to do now. Still looking at you intensely.

Looking. He keeps looking. Which is, sort of the thing you wanted to point out in the first place.

"You're... o-oh- oh-"

"I...?" he acts as if he's not quite catching on. Pondering for a second with the sounds of your moans and wanton sighs, and the creaking of the worn out bed acting as background noise to aid his thinking.

"Oh! I'm doing a swell job is that it? Is that what you're trying to say, dearest?" he lets out a content loving sigh, and your breathe stutters at him him pick up his pace a bit. "You and your words never fail to make me blush, my love."

Another particularly good thrust has you arching your back, of which he's making sure his eyes connect with yours once more while you writhe and wiggle underneath. But your wriggling quickly eases from bodily pleasure, to slowly morphing into a sense of discomfort now.

Because he's staring at you.

Again.

Which should be good isn't it? Eye contact during sex is a sign after all of a good partner paying attention to your needs. And with someone like Eddie, him paying attention to your needs is the tiniest sliver of hope you cling onto to make sure his reason for keeping you alive is a bit more... cemented, substantial even. Gives you a little bit more reason (or delusion) to believe he'd be inclined to make this relationship, make you, last longer.

(Compared to the alternative route of him using your body for his own sick dispositions, and casually stringing you all up when he's done.)

Though you're sure that this is not the type of bedroom eye contact many normally wish for.

"Y-you... you're.." you try to murmur out again.

Not that you should talk about having anything normal with this man. You might as well find the solution to world hunger long before you find anything even remotely "normal" in this place.

It's not that you're expecting him to do things normally, but can't he... can't he just... do something else maybe?

Look anywhere but you for just a split second, maybe bury himself into your neck, or close his own eyes to focus on the feeling of his cock getting squeezed, or look at any other part of your body that could possibly entrance him; mouth, chest, stomach... hell, you could even hope that he tries to glance down at your clit? Maybe marvel at the sight of where the two of you connect, since that's all his fucked up baby fever mind thinks about anyways?

You'll take anything really, just one small thing to act as a reminder that you guys are indeed having... sex— and not engaging in some sort of impromptu staring contest out of nowhere.

Because his eyes are doing absolutely nothing but looking into your own and as they continue staring at you.

and staring at you...

and staring...

and staring...

and staring...

Jesus fucking christ you don't think he's even blinked in the past few seconds anymore.

You let out a mix of a whine and a groan, opting to shut your eyelids close and try to shield your face away from his unmoving eyeballs by trying to wiggle your hands free out of his grasp (him and his damn insistence to hold hands while making love as he calls it.).

"What is it my love? Must I pay you a penny for your thoughts perhaps?"

"you keep staring... "

You try to wiggle free again, inadvertently adding onto the delightful friction between your parts and his— to which he gets a small shiver of his own at the roll of your hips against him. A light laugh escapes him at your captivating and somewhat fruitless display. He finally gives reprieve to your brain's rising fear of being uncannily perceived at, and blinks.

"Ohhh, my darling."

He lets go of one of your hands so that he can cradle your face, tilting it so he can capture your mouth into a kiss. humming into your mouth, but the humming isn't just the usual sighs of pleasure, as you can pick up the movement of him saying some words.

He pulls apart from his half kissing-half speaking into your mouth, as he slowly begins to playfully laugh again.

"You can't blame a man for looking at his wife when she's like this; all breathless and beautiful, now can you? I sure can't!"

Said wife that he just knows for certain was sent down by god all-mighty himself into the 7th circle of hell named "mount massive asylums".

When Eddie sees you, he can't help but imagine your rotting carcass somewhere else. An alternate place where those filthy bastards could have gotten their hands on you, torn you limb from limb (if they didn't have the patience to pull your teeth and your eyes out first), then have their way with using your dead body as a urinal afterwards.

You must have been scared to not have your dear husband around to protect you from all the nasty violence around the asylum, weren't you darling?

No, no. No meed to fret now and get your panties in a twist! None of that here. Not when your dear ol' Eddie is here now.

You are very much alive and perfect, preserved by your own sheer dumb luck or maybe by fate itself to be kept alive long enough for him. Just him.

And under his care, your body is experiencing the furthest thing from excruciating physical pain right now, isn't it darling? Feels good, yes? To have your husband make love to you like the passionate man he is. Lest he's supposed to take in the sight of you rolling your eyes back and your legs hooking around his waist, pulling him in for more as something otherwise?

Oh goodness him... It's almost too good to be true.

And he really can't take his eyes off of you.

[arthurbarnes]

Though lucky was not the word that Arthur would have chosen to describe how he was feeling about how much he yearned to stay in Miss Winslow's presence, once she said it, he could see that she was entirely correct. He was incredibly fortunate to have found someone who made the simple act of saying goodbye so hard; especially because he had been certain that he would never meet someone who made him feel this way again.

"Well, I....I suppose that I should not keep the swarm of suitors wishing to offer you a dance waiting." Arthur said softly, though in truth, he desired nothing more than to make them wait until they lost interest. He knew, though, that to do such a thing was unfair to Miss Winslow, that if she was to choose his company over the company of others, than it needed to, in fact, be a choice. "It has...truly... been amongst the great pleasures of my life, meeting you, and spending time in your company tonight, Miss Winslow." He bowed and offered her a smile, his eyes full of adoration for her, and hope for the two of them. "I have little doubt in my mind that...that we will meet again soon. Please, keep an eye out for my correspondence." And with one final smile, and nearly all the willpower that he possessed, he left her.

Some time later....

The evening was spiraling fast towards a close, and though Arthur had tried his very best to put Miss Winslow from his mind, to return his focus to his sister and her activities, he had still found himself looking with yearning across the room to where Adelaide was far more often than he meant to. Over time, he found himself fantasizing of a scenario where he could steal one additional moment with her before the night ended, which gradually turned from fantasy into a plan he was determined to make into reality. In a moment wherein they were passing by one another, just as he had orchestrated they would be, Arthur reached and discreetly placed a folded piece of paper within her gloved palm, hoping that she would unfold it and read the message scrawled upon it in hasty and excited handwriting:

I have heard a rumor that the garden here is quite lovely to look upon under the glow of the moon. Indeed, I have seen a great many of the guests here heading outside to steal a look within the past hour. It is my intention of going out to look at the top of the next hour, so that I may see for myself if it as beautiful as they say. Please do me the honour of seeking out my company there, so that, should the gardens fail to live up to their reputation, I may still look upon something lovely once more before the night's end.

~ A

As he made his way outside, it was to find that there were several people admiring the garden and speaking in hushed tones to one another. All he could do now was wait, and hope that Miss Winslow would accept his invitation.

Adelaide was used to goodbyes, it was etiquette at balls and events such as this. Never had she had the sweet pleasure of a goodbye being so difficult. She had found herself breaking every rule that she usually maintained at balls. No second dances, escaping as quickly as she could. But as she stood on the dancefloor, the music coming to a conclusion, marking the end of the dance... she just wanted more time. Another song. For the string quartet to linger on the final notes just a little longer. Arthur's admission made her heart swell, an ignition of hope that perhaps he had felt the same way she did. That perhaps finding a match this season would not be as impossible as it once seemed. "I do not think there is a world in which I could forget," her words were earnest, yet vulnerable; in a way in which the redhead was not used to being. Vulnerability was foreign to her, it made her heart race and her mouth dry. "I do not wish to be impertinent towards other gentlemen, but, I have never enjoyed being in their company as much as I have enjoyed being in yours. Luck is on our side to make a simple departure of the night so unbearable."

[husku-u]

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry my love, I couldn't protect you"

POV: You failed to protect what mattered most to you, You almost made it out together but now they're gone and you have to live with the fact it was your fault :D now you get to experience the suffocating guilt and grief of child loss

Found Sweet Pea 2nd Cycle of an expedition despite supposedly having turned pups off and managed to shelter before either of us died. Almost failed the expedition at least 4 separate times, but we fucking made it. However second to last Cycle after my friend joined, I died outside the den with Sweet Pea on my back while my friend waited in the den, the shelter closed before we could grab them ;-;

Legitimately fucking sobbed my eyes out for 10 minutes. We spawned them in the next cycle with dev console but holy shit I am experiencing real grief over this-

ID: 3607

[tragicotps]

Asriel Belacqua + his biggest weakness aka Marisa Coulter

[dogwaterdish]

I've elected to ignore 430 & midoriya losing OFA for good, the ending did not do my favorites justice so I am pretending it didnt happen forever - only thing I'll accept is midoriya becoming a teacher

[wavebiders]

turn on your location Shar I just wanna talk

[candlebel]

I cared. I still do. I still think of you and I still cry over you. You were importat to me. You still are.

[tommygettingwrittenoff]

okay buck would definitely be like hey eddie let's spar together and eddie would be like okay!! sparring is so much fun!! and so they would go to a gym after their shift and spar and it would be Fine for about 5 minutes. before buck realizes he's in over his head and his size is Not an advantage with eddie because eddie is able to pin him down no matter what buck does. and buck would be so horny and frustrated the entire time and eddie would be confused because I thought you could fight buck??? why are you giving up once I pin your hands down??? and buck would try to be all ha ha I guess I can't compete against a former street fighter while actively trying to hide his erection

[kellystar321]

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