#I’m tired of not being able to go out on a Tuesday night and just walk the town with my friends

[mellomadness]

sometimes I wonder if I should take a gender studies class just so I can bitch every day about how an imaginary boyfriend is often seen as a requirement for a woman to feel safe enough to have fun at a club, or the idea that an imaginary person with a fake “claim” over me has more influence over predatory men than my own voice saying “No, I’m not interested, get lost”

[timmydraker]

On a seemingly random Tuesday night, a few members of the Bat Family are free to spend dinner at the manner.

Jason was benched by his fellow Outlaws for a nasty hit to his chest and got tired of Biz’s worrying even if it was appreciated at first.

Dick had been taking a small break after a particularly bad case with work that involved some hurt children and wanted to be back home.

Damian had only ever made threats to move about but the newley eighteen year old was still at home.

Tim had been using his free time while Kon and Cassie visited their families to visit his own while Bart and Barry dragged Wally on a bonding trip. The poor West boy had to miss out a concert of some sort.

Stephanie, Duke and Cass were all busy with a case and had pleaded with Bruce to take some time off because he was, quote, “Broodier than Hamlet”. He eventually relented when Barbie and Kate promised to keep an eye on them.

The group had decided to watch a movie instead of playing games, mainly because not games were banned, and settled on something that Tim paid no mind to.

The problem came that it was cold out and everyone insisted on having the fire as hot as it could go, but Tim naturally ran hot. Jason and Damian tended to get the coldest and while only Jason would complain, Damian could and would set anything he wanted on fire to get warm.

So, Tim didn’t complain and just said he was going to get changed.

He spent at least half an hour on one of the arm chairs by himself with his tablet playing RuneScape, when Dick inhaled so quickly everyone heard it.

Tim assumed it was something to do with the movie and didn’t turn, tapping away at his screen, completely ignorant to Dick’s quickly forming tears.

It was when Bruce also made a noise, this time a poorly pronounced ‘oh’ that he turned around, assuming it had to be a truely grand thing for Bruce to react so openly in the movie.

Instead he finds his foster father and brothers staring at him.

More specifically, his thighs.

Tim hadn’t realised his shorts would ride up and stop covering him to just above his knee and show the hundreds of scars littered over the outside and inside of his pale skin. They were mostly faded, but with the width of some of them they were always going to be visible, especially with the sheer amount.

Pulling his pant leg down, Tim doesn’t bother to hide a sympathetic wince and says, “Sorry, didn’t meant to show them. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

He looks away again, assuming that was that and trying to remind himself that it wasn’t his fault that people were upset by his scars, just like Black Canary told him.

Instead he hears a sob and turns back to find Bruce holding Dicks hand as his oldest brother sobs into his hand. He sees that Jason is seemingly fighting to not match him even with his wide eyes and Damian is staring at him with confusion.

Realisation finds Tim quickly, which makes sense considering he’s supposed to be the ‘smart Robin’.

“You didn’t know…”

Dick stands up, dropping Bruce’s hand and comes to kneel before Tim, holding onto his own hands like some kind of follower to a god, “Why? I- I don’t- why?”

The desperation in his voice makes Tim feel sick, and he looks around at the others for help because surely he had talked to at least one of them about it? He had been open with his friends, and he hadn’t exactly kept it a secret, but he did avoid showing them…

Tim moves to hold onto Dick in return, “I’m sorry, I thought you guys knew-… okay, look, I’ve got a two year clean streak and I’m in therapy, okay? I’m so sorry Dick, I just assumed you knew cause I use the shower in the cave with you guys and… I’m so sorry.”

There’s a silence for a moment as Dick drags him into his arms and squeezes him as tightly as he can, not even being careful like he usually would.

“I don’t understand.”

Damian’s voice sounds uncharacteristic in how small it is. He’s staring at Tim’s legs like he might be able to catch a glimpse of the scars in genuine confusion.

Bruce seemingly can’t speak and so Jason tries his best to explain to the youngest Wayne boy, “Look, bra-kid, some times when people aren’t doing to well they… they hurt themselves. Tim…”

Giving his brother a smile, Tim takes over as tears finally break away from Jason. Jason was always the most emotional and that’s evident in how he actually lets Bruce pull him into a side hug.

“Dami, you know how my parents kind of sucked?”

Damian makes a scoff noise, “I know they were incompetent, yes.”

Smiling, Tim continues as his eyes grow wet with the sound of his families cries, “Well, I really wanted to good for them but they had impossible standards. When I found I couldn’t reach them, I decided I needed punishment. So…” he takes a deep inhale and moves a hand to Dick’s head to comfort him as he finishes. “I started to cut myself.”

Damian doesn’t get wide eyes or anything, and Tim thinks it’s so much worse that there’s an image understanding in his little brothers eyes that show he sees that as completely logical.

But it is quickly overcome, his first thought always what he was raised with and quickly followed by the ideals he’s learnt and now values. He doesn’t cry either, but he does have a look of a pure heart break in his sweet little eyes.

Bruce finally comes over and pulls his two sons into a hug, adjusting to fit Jason in and saying nothing as Damian comes up behind Tim and leans his head against the others back.

Bruce asks other a few minutes of holding each other, “You said you haven’t for two years?”

Tim smiles once again and presses a kiss to his dad’s cheek. “Yeah. I learnt that family, real family like ours, would never want physical punishment, especially for something we can’t control. That’s not how loving people work.”

Damian moves to wrap his arms around Tim in their first ever hug and by all gods and mighty beings is Tim glad he stuck around.

Hugs from his family was well worth it.

[luvelve]

boyfriend!wonwoo who wakes up at the slightest sound or movement and he can’t help it or do anything about it even if he so badly wants to. the first few weeks of living together was difficult to say the least. you’d wake up in the middle of the night to pee or to have a glass of water and you’d find wonwoo sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting for you to come back. guilt would wash over you knowing he has to get up early in the morning and every other morning.

you feel like the worst person in the world having to interrupt his slumber, but he tells you its okay. you once even offered to sleep in separate rooms so wonwoo can have 8 hours of uninterrupted sleep. but of course, he turned the offer down. sometimes he’d act like he wasn’t woken up from your movement because he knows you still feel guilty.

you’re many months into sharing a bedroom and you’ve kinda gotten used to your light sleeper of a roommate. it’d help when wonwoo came home absolutely exhausted, he’d sleep like a baby and couldn’t be disturbed by anything.

it’s way past 3am on a gloomy tuesday morning when you feel your blanket shift and cold wind hit your lower body. you look over your shoulder to wonwoo’s side and you see him getting up and putting his glasses on. he’s quietly heading towards the door when you let out a mumble.

“i’m sorry my love, i didn’t mean to wake you.” he finds your face under the moonlight that shines through the window.

“where are you going?” you use whatever strength you have to sit yourself up on the bed.

“i was just going to get some uh… water.”

liar. the glass of water you put on his bedside table before lying down has barely been touched. and the fact that he put his glasses on isn’t helping his lie either. it takes you a few seconds but you also notice that his hair hasn’t been messed up from sleep.

“have you been up all night?” you shoot him a head tilt, slowly getting up from your bed to make your way towards him. you can tell the mental gymnastics he’s doing in his head to try and convince you to get back to bed. at this point, wonwoo knows you’ve got him and there’s no point in lying anymore.

“yes… but its okay, really. y-you can go back to bed.” he tells you softly, putting his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants. even at this hour, when wonwoo hasn’t had a second of sleep, he’s still able to be this selfless.

you stand just a few inches away from him, head tilted up to look him in his tired and droopy eyes while he looks down at you, doing the same thing. it’s silent and the only thing that can be heard is the faint sounds of the city. you take a small step to close the gap between the two of you as you wrap your arms around his waist. your head is resting on his chest and you feel it rise and fall.

“we’ve talked about this before. you always stay up with me, even when i never ask you to. waiting for me to get back from the kitchen or the bathroom. and it’s unfair to you… but i hope you know that i’d do the same for you.” you close your eyes, head still resting on his chest, internally blaming yourself for not being as light a sleeper as your boyfriend.

he smiles and returns your hug, wrapping his arms around your body and resting his chin on the top of your head. “i know, my love. i’m sorry.” another trait of your wonwoo’s, being sorry for something that’s not even his fault.

“just wake my sleepy ass up next time, okay?” he lets out a laugh and you feel it rumble in his chest. you lift your head up to look at him once again as he nods. his smile is big enough that the corners of his eyes crease.

“jeon wonwoo, i wanna hear you say it.” your voice is soft yet a bit playful. you tug at his white shirt as your lips unconsciously form into a slight pout.

“yes, maam.”

a/n: as usual, this is very self indulgent. but also, i feel like this is something that wonwoo would actually do :(( aaand i still can’t seem to finish this wonwoo fic that’s been in my drafts for over 3 weeks so pls enjoy this for now <3

[banquetwriter]

saw you asked for viktor x reader requestssss, may i ask for some fluffy modern au ones? love your blog!!

AN: tysm !! and yes i love for modern au!viktor bc maybe he has a chance to be happy :((

warnings: i mention the pandemic a lil and some sad stuff about his disability but over all fluff :), ooc viktor bc im not used to writing him rip

i feel like in any universe viktor has nightmares, in a modern world he would wake with a jolt of fear, drenched in sweat. eyes dark and sunken in. his leg is killing him and he sighs peering at the time. 2:34 am. ahh of course he cannot possibly get a full nights sleep.

he doesn’t want to wake you of course. you need your sleep, more than him but he just can’t handle it. the pain sometimes it’s just too much. he rubs his forehead reaching for his phone and dialing your number. to his delight and concern you awnser almost immediately. “viktor?” your worried voice says through the phone.

“are you ok? did something happen.” you ask, your voice isn’t tired- like it should be. “no- just another bad dream i’m afraid. why aren’t you sleeping?” he asked with a small amused smirk.

silence met him on the other end “darling you need to sleep-“ he tries to reason before you cut him off complaining about how he never sleeps.

definitely still a work-a-holic… can’t for a moment pull himself away from work. in a modern world he is definitely still a scientist… maybe working in the medical field? possibly! the tech world seems most likely….

he’d always have accesses to the newest gadgets and do-dads. stuff that blows your mind but for him? another tuesday. and for being as technologically advanced as he is he doesn’t care much for tv show or modern movies…

he’d like the classics of course but he strikes me more as a classic ligature guy… maybe just some self projecting but some gothic lit perhaps?

he also eats extremely healthy. and when he does eat it’s not to enjoy the food it’s purely to keep him going… and your snacking habits and fast food would amuse him slightly.

of course he’d get invited to speak at many tech (or medically i’m telling you i can see him in the prosthetic industry) events. jayce forcing him to get all black suit and tie fancy. which he would hate.

what he wouldn’t hate would be seeing you all done up pretty/handsome, wondering how he managed to trick you into falling in love with him.

viktor sat in front of his full length mirror (a space specifically for him to be able to down while getting ready) adjusting his tie before using his crutch to stand up. the only thought running through his mind was how much he didn’t wanna go

then he saw you rush out of the bathroom “ugh we are gonna be late” you said worried putting in your earrings or adjusting your own tie. but viktor didn’t here your complaint. he saw his beautiful partner. his love struck eyes followed as you rush to his mirror. he slipped a hand around your waist.

you turn to him finally done adjusting your outfit he just smiles back. “you clean up nice.” you whisper before planting a small kiss on his cheek. if you wear lipstick he admires the mark before regrettably rubbing the mark off.

and even if you don’t wear it he can feel the spot burn all night long as he watches jayce mingle through the crowd.

since his right leg is the leg he needs his crutch for i think it’s safe to assume he can’t drive. he most likely could when he was younger when he used the cane not the crutch but even then after a few years he most likely wouldn’t be able to

and even if it sounds a little uncharacteristic i think he would have a personal driver. he is definitely making bank in the tech (or medically yk yk) field, especially being an inventor.

so he wouldn’t have one to be an ass but simply because he cannot walk places and the modern world relies on cars… if you can drive he much prefers you to do it however.

during the pandemic since he is most likely immune compromised i don’t see a world where he goes out much before let alone after a global pandemic. which makes his anxiety worse.

it’s better for his pain to be able to run his business from home or a quarantined lab but his mental health suffers. when the band are lifted and your allowed to go out more he has a panic attacks a lot.

during zoom calls sometimes you’d be just out of frame holding his hand as you read or something. it took a while and a lot of convincing but he eventually started to go to therapy

ik big deal for mr i don’t deserve anything good in my life…

as his health declines and he is forced to stay home rather than choosing to stay home he becomes close to bed ridden. you quit your job to help care for him more full time. he hates it.

he hates the pitty looks from jayce and all the people that worked for hextech. he doesn’t have to worry about money of course… but he wishes the world would allow him more time.

i don’t know how modern the medicine is in piltover but i’m assuming it’s decently close to ours ??? and if so he would decline at about the same rate. if our modern world has better medicine than of course he takes advantage of it to a point

until having to pop 5 pills every three hours takes a toll and he slowly stops taking them.. but he always has you to remind him why he takes them. so after increasing his therapy sessions he starts to take them again.

i’d imagine he likes to spend every domestic moment he can. massaging your legs as they lay across his lap as you ramble on about whatever tv show your watching. chuckling at your reactions as he reads

being able to brush his teeth with you in the shower… just the pure domestic bliss he basks in. having a lonely childhood he is has never been more happy to experience a life with people he loves !!

[merrybloomwrites]

The Rake

Summary: You start having nightmares that disrupt your sleep, but luckily your boyfriend, Spencer, is there to help you through it.

Word Count: 1.8K

CW: mentions of creepy stories, nightmares

AN: This story is inspired by the Smosh Mouth episode that came out on October 21, which honestly did manage to creep me out a couple of times.

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Nearly everyday after work you go for a thirty minute walk. It’s always nice to go outside and enjoy some fresh air after being cooped up in the Smosh office all day. 

Plus it’s the perfect time to listen to podcasts. On Mondays you get to hear the first half of the newest Smosh Mouth episode, and you finish it up on Tuesdays. 

Walks are skipped on Wednesdays, as that’s the day you and your boyfriend, Spencer, spend together. 

It’s a perfect system in your eyes, one that you don’t plan on changing any time soon.

Today’s Tuesday, and you pull out your phone to press play on the podcast you’d started the day before. This week’s theme had been creepypastas, and it’s been fun listening to Shayne read out these weird stories.

You do admit that they’ve creeped you out a little bit, especially the one about the doll who demanded teeth. Shayne is an excellent storyteller, and it’s interesting to hear the different voice he uses for these stories. That, plus the eerie background music and noises they add in, really works to give those spooky, somewhat uncomfortable vibes. 

Add on the fact that the sun sets early now and you’re ending your walk at dusk while you listen to the final story about “The Rake”. You’re truthfully a bit freaked out by it, but then the episode ends with some banter from Shayne and Amanda and you move on. 

The rest of your evening passes as it usually does and by the time you get in bed you’ve completely forgotten about the creepy stories.

But then a nightmare wakes you up, and even though you’re now awake, you’re still terrified. Because it looks like something is sitting on the edge of your bed. You’re frozen in fear for what feels like minutes before you’re finally able to turn on your bedside lamp.

Once you’re no longer in complete darkness you can see that nothing is there. You take deep breaths and tell yourself that it’s just a bad dream. There is no weird creature in your room to torment you. You’re just stressed and your brain conjured this image to mess with you.

That’s the rational explanation. But it’s hard to be rational at 4:30 in the morning. 

For the next hour you try to fall back asleep. But it’s no use. You toss and turn, open apps on your phone, try to read a little bit, but nothing is chasing away the dream. At 6am you give up and get out of bed. You decide to take a morning walk today since you won’t be going on one this evening, and maybe getting outside will be a good change of scenery to reset your mind. 

It works, and by the time you arrive at Smosh you’ve forgotten about the dream. You are, however, completely exhausted from waking up so early. 

Spencer notices this immediately, as he gives you his normal good morning kiss. 

“You seem sleepy,” he says as his hand goes to your waist, his thumb rubbing circles on your hip. It’s one of his comforting gestures, and it’s most welcomed right now. 

“Had a weird dream that woke me up. Couldn’t fall back asleep,” you answer. 

“I’m sorry baby, you want to talk about it?”

“No, I'm good now. Just tired.”

“Okay. If you want to talk, let me know. And I’m staying at your place tonight so I’ll make sure you get a good night's sleep,” he says with a wink, causing you to laugh. 

Just like that, any lingering tension has left you, thanks to your kind and silly boyfriend.

“I’ve got a meeting I need to prepare for, but I’ll see you later,” he says, leaning in for one more quick kiss. With a parting squeeze to your waist he turns and walks away to start his work for the day. 

You do the same, and after a few hours of working at your desk, you’re struggling to keep your eyes open. Just as you're about to get up in search of caffeine, Spencer appears. 

As though he could read your mind, he hands you a mug saying, “Thought you could use a little pick me up. Made you some tea.”

“Thank you, this is exactly what I need right now,” you say. You take a sip and feel a pleasant warmth inside, not only from the tea, but from the fact that your boyfriend, who never drinks tea, has learned how to make it just perfect for you. 

As you sip your drink you reach out a hand. Spencer reaches to link his fingers with yours, and the two of you sit there for a couple minutes in comfortable silence. After this brief time spent together you both return to work. 

You don’t see Spencer for the rest of the day, since your lunch breaks don’t always line up, so it’s extra nice that you’re spending tonight together. 

Once you wrap up your last task of the day you walk over to Spencer’s desk to find him still engrossed by the document on his computer. You wait patiently, not wanting to break his concentration. When he gets to a stopping point he looks up and says, “Hey, sorry, I just need to finish this before I head out.”

“That’s fine, I’ll pick up the food on my way home,” you reply.

“Thank you, I’ll be at your place within the hour, promise.”

“Looking forward to it,” you say before leaning down for a quick kiss. 

You drive home, grabbing dinner as promised, and Spencer gets to your place not long after you do. You enjoy the food before lounging together on the sofa to watch mindless sitcoms. Spencer also keeps his word of tiring you out, the night ending with both of you very satisfied. 

Though all you want is to fall asleep, you definitely need a shower. It’s not what you want to be doing, but when Spencer decides to join you, it becomes much less of a chore. 

The two of you get ready and finally fall into bed. You’re truly exhausted, and as soon as Spencer spoons you from behind, his arms secure around your waist, you drift off to sleep.

But once again you jolt awake, pulse racing as you see what looks like a figure at the edge of the bed. Having felt you move, Spencer shifts beside you. He sits up sleepily and murmurs, “What’s wrong?” 

You try to explain but you’re still frozen by fear. Spencer becomes more alert and notices how wide your eyes are, how quickly you’re breathing. He turns on the lamp and scans the room. 

Seeing nothing to cause alarm he turns to you and again asks, “Baby, what is it? What’s wrong?”

“There was a thing, like a person or a creature or something. At the end of the bed,” you reply shakily. 

“A person in the room?” He asks to clarify. 

“That’s what it looked like but then it disappeared!”

“Okay, just, stay here a minute and I’ll check the apartment,” Spencer says, starting to get out of bed. You’re grateful for his bravery, but there’s no way you’re just going to stay in bed like a sitting duck. 

You get up as well and grab the metal softball bat leaning against the wall. Spencer watches and asks, “Have you always had that there?”

“Just since my moms last visit,” you answer. “She cleaned out the basement and thought I should have it for protection. But can we please focus on the possible intruder?”

“Right, yes, ok,” he says, getting back to the task at hand. The two of you search the apartment, but find nothing. 

You feel better knowing that your apartment is definitely empty, and with Spencer once again holding you protectively, you manage to fall back asleep, not waking until your alarm.

Both of you are needed in a meeting that morning so you quickly get ready and head to work. Once in the conference room, you sit next to Amanda, Spencer on your other side. Even though you’d slept more than the previous night, it’s clear both of you are still sleepier than usual.

“Busy night?” Amanda asks, her voice suggestive, but joking. You know what she’s implying, and though she’s kind of right, you don’t need her knowing that.

“Bad dream,” you say simply. 

“Y/N thought there was a creature on the bed,” Spencer adds. 

“Well, she was right, wasn’t she? You were there,” Shayne says from his spot next to Amanda, causing you to laugh. 

“Heyyy, rude,” is all Spencer has to say in reply. 

“Did you listen to the podcast this week?” Amanda asks.

“Yea of course, I listen every week.”

“And you had a dream about a creature in your bed?” is Amanda’s next question. You nod yes in reply.

“A creature like in the Rake?” 

“Holy shit. Yea. One hundred percent the creature from the rake,” you say, mad at yourself for not putting the pieces together.

“You got a nightmare from us telling stories on the pod?” Shayne asks. “That might be a first.”

You start laughing at how ridiculous this all is before sliding down and resting your head on the table. You’re embarrassed, not only that you had a nightmare because of a comedy podcast, but that everyone at work will absolutely know this fact by the end of the day. You’re already imagining the pranks that you’ll likely endure in the future because of this. 

And of course the pranks do come. In the following weeks, plenty of people joke around about you being scared of the Rake and sometimes pop out at you to make you jump. All of this is a totally normal and expected part of working at Smosh.

But what you don’t expect is Spencer’s reaction. Instead of laughing and messing around with the others, he’s always serious and checking in. He makes sure that it’s not upsetting you, and promises to talk to the others if it is. 

While you reassure him that it truly doesn’t bother you, it’s nice to know that he’s so fully there to back you up. You’d been on your own until you found him, always taking care of yourself. So having Spencer there to help take care of you feels so foreign, and yet, so welcomed. 

The teasing and pranks may get old eventually, but you don’t mind them. Because everytime it happens, Spencer is right there with a smile and a kiss to make sure you’re okay. 

And that makes it all worth it.

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AN: Thanks for reading! Lmk if you have any requests!

[tkaulitzlvr]

I love your writing so much!! Could I request reader giving tom the silent treatment cause he did something and it goes like him getting irritated and then comfort and then smut ??

SILENT TREATMENT- T. KAULITZ

synopsis: refusing to talk to tom even days after he had forgotten about your date night, he begins to get frustrated, doing whatever it takes to get you to speak to him again.

content: little bit of angst, smut.

a/n: i love writing this kind of stuff omg, thank you for requesting!!

“jesus baby are you still not talking to me?” tom sighs, sitting down onto the couch beside me as i ignore him announcing that he is home, after spending the day at the studio. “you can’t still be mad?”

stupid question - of course i was. it was now tuesday, and i hadn’t spoken to him since saturday night. we had both agreed that we had been spending less time with each other, with tom so busy preparing to release his new album with the band. so, we had planned a small date night at home, which was going to involve ordering take-out and watching movies, maybe taking a bath together before bed. we had agreed on 6pm, giving him thirty minutes to begin the drive home, allowing for traffic.

so i had sat on our couch, my pyjamas on, all of his favourite snacks laid out on the table with a few of mine, waiting for him to come home. 6:04pm - maybe he had to stay behind at the studio for a few minutes, this happened sometimes, and it was usually out of his control.

6:17pm - it could be traffic, everybody else was leaving work at the same time, the roads were bound to be jammed, i can’t blame him for that.

6:32pm - he could’ve gone to the store? maybe he wanted to get some more snacks for tonight?

my mind was thinking of any excuse that it could, trying to convince myself that tom wouldn’t stand me up - we had had this night planned for over a week, and he seemed pretty excited about it. but as the popcorn on the coffee table began to get cold, my body aching from sitting in the same position for so long, i knew. i knew that he wasn’t going to show. my phone was silent, no text, no call coming through, at least letting me know if he was running late, or not able to come at all. no apology, no promise to make it up to me - absolutely nothing.

9:56pm - my eyes were growing heavy, no longer paying attention to the random movie on the screen, my hand lethargically dipping into the bag of skittles that were meant to be for tom, but i had given up on him coming home long ago, deciding to eat them for myself - it was better than them going to waste. my tired eyes suddenly shoot open when i hear the front door opening and closing, keys being dropped onto the table, and shoes being taken off. i roll my eyes, shaking my head and turning my attention back to the movie, not in the mood to speak to him at all.

“baby?” i hear him call out, his body appearing in the door frame of our living room.

silence. i stay quiet, ignoring him completely and gluing my eyes to the tv screen. he sighs, slowly walking towards me and sitting beside me, trying to wrap his arm around my shoulder, but i shrug him off.

“liebe…i am so sorry.” he apologises, taking my hand in his. i accept his touch, though i still refuse to look at him, way too furious to properly listen to his pointless apology. “the guys, they kept me back at the studio. we want to get this album perfect and i just, i lost track of time-”

“you lost track of time? are you fucking serious?” i finally snap, quickly taking my hand out of his, turning to look at him with my eyebrows furrowed, completely shocked at his shitty excuse. “could you not have texted me, at least let me know in advance? you’re an asshole.”

“look, i promise i’ll make it up to you. i’m really sorry baby.” he says, his voice soft.

“we had this planned for fucking weeks! you agree that we never spend time together, and then you don’t even come home when we plan something? you basically live at that damn studio and i’m sick of it! go back there, i don’t want to see you right now.” i scoff, turning away from him and getting up, turning the tv off and walking to our bedroom.

he quickly follows behind me, not giving up that easily. “come on baby, don’t be like this. i promise you, we can have a date night way better than this, i’ll take you somewhere real nice, yeah?” he suggests, standing in the doorway of the bathroom as i do my skincare, getting ready for bed.

“what so you can stand me up again? saying you got ‘carried away at the studio’ exactly like you do every fucking night? do you know what’s funny, i can’t even remember the last time we spent the day together.” i say, looking at him through the reflection in the mirror, his face dropping a little.

“schatz- look i’m sorry, okay? work has been really hard lately, just give me a chance and i’ll fix this, i swear.” he pleads, walking towards me and trying to put his arms around my waist from behind, but once again, i shrug him off.

“whatever, i’m too fucking tired for this shit.” i sigh, walking out of the bathroom and into our bedroom, switching the light out and leaving him in the dark. “i’m going to bed, do whatever you want.”

i climb into the covers, hearing him take off his clothes and crawl in beside me. he gets closer, trying to wrap his arms around my waist and spoon me as he usually would, but tonight, his touch is the last thing i want. in response, i move his hands away, shuffling to the end of the bed. he sighs in frustration, but accepts my silent request for space, laying flat on his back.

“i love you.” i hear him say from behind me, his voice slow and quiet.

i don’t respond, laying beside him, seeing his face drop a little at my silence. no matter how bad our fighting got, i would always tell him that i loved him, and he would do the same. but this time, i didn’t want to, tired of him throwing me aside.

that was how it had been since that day. i refused to speak to him, despite his constant attempts. he had tried everything, just flat out speaking to me, complimenting me, buying me my favourite snacks, giving me expensive gifts, even coming home early from the studio, but i didn’t budge, still not wanting to talk.

“please, meine liebe, you can’t ignore me forever.” he sighs, shuffling closer to me, beginning to plant slow and soft kisses on the bare skin of my neck, my body shivering at the sudden contact, not used to it as we hadn’t had any physical intimacy since that night, not even a small kiss or cuddle in bed, my stubbornness pushing him away each time.

“i said i was sorry, please forgive me baby.” he mutters against my neck, continuing to kiss it slowly, getting a little more sloppy with his movements.

i push him off me, my hands flat against his chest. he groans in frustration, becoming angry at my determination to keep this going.

“seriously, i don’t know how much longer i can go on like this. come on my love, please just forgive me.” he sighs, not giving up as he returns back to his position, his head in my neck.

he moves his hand to my waist, lifting my oversized t-shirt and caressing the smooth skin of my hips, testing the waters and waiting for me to push him away yet again. but i don’t. i let him carry on, his lips attaching to my neck once again, thumb running up and down my hip, but i know exactly what he wants, the way he gently uses his hold on me to move my body against his lower half giving me a pretty good idea.

“schatz…” he mumbles, his sounds muffled into my skin, breathing against my neck slowly, his teeth slowly grazing against it. “let me make it up to you. let me show you how sorry i am, hm?”

my breathing hitches, my heart running ahead of my mind as i find myself unable to speak, feeling tom smirk against my neck as he realises that he has finally won. he gently turns my body and lays me down so that my back is flat against the couch, climbing on top of me and quickly pressing his lips against mine. he is eager, desperate to feel me against him, wanting to make up for the lost intimacy, kissing harder as a silent way to encourage me to kiss back. i finally do so, threading my hands through his dreads, pulling his cap off of his head before pulling him closer to me, feeling him smile against my lips.

“i love you.” he whispers against my lips, running his hands smoothly up and down my waist before continuing the kiss, not even giving me chance to respond as i am far too lost in the moment. his hands reach for the hem of my t-shirt, stopping for a second and breaking the kiss, looking into my eyes, waiting to see if i am okay with this. i nod my head and he smiles slightly, a cocky smirk on his face as he lifts the material up and over my head, studying the red lace bra i have on before impatiently reconnecting our lips.

he slips his tongue into my mouth, mine moving together with his, the kiss now heated and desperate, my hands moving to cup his face, bringing him closer towards me. i hear him reaching for his belt buckle, pulling away from the kiss to undo it as i take this as an opportunity to lift the large hoodie off of his body, revealing his toned frame, my hands instinctively running down his chest, feeling each muscle as he groans at the contact.

“what happened to you being so angry earlier, hm? haven’t seen you this desperate in a long time, i would’ve done this ages ago if i had known this is all it takes for you to forgive me.” tom says, enjoying the way i gaze upwards at him, my eyes filled with lust, completely different to the coldness i had showed him these last few days.

“who said anything about forgiving you?” i breathe out, looking into his eyes as my hands run down his back, enjoying the way i can tease him. “you haven’t done anything yet, and, who knows, maybe this will show me you aren’t sorry enough.”

“oh baby…” he mocks, slowly tugging my leggings down, leaving me in only my lingerie. he pauses after doing so, leaning downwards so that his lips are right next to my ear, gently sucking on it before speaking again. “i’m gonna fuck you so good that you won’t even remember why you were mad at me in the first place.”

my breathing hitches in my throat, my body feeling hot as his words are enough to make me cum right there on the spot, no need for him to touch me. his lips place a single kiss on the spot directly below my ear, nipping at the skin slowly, taking advantage of the way i angle my neck upwards, giving him more access.

but he doesn’t carry on for long. his lips move lower, starting at my collarbone, planting a few tender kisses there, moving to the flesh of my breasts that are on show, kneading the one that his mouth isn’t paying attention to with his hands, soon becoming tired of my bra still being on, wanting to feel every inch of me. his mouth still on my chest, he reaches behind me, undoing the clasp of my bra with one hand, throwing it somewhere on the floor - neither of us really caring where.

he moves backwards, staring at my breasts in front of him, his lips slightly parted, curving into a gentle smirk, his brown eyes full of desire, watching the way my chest moves up and down with each heavy breath i take.

he wastes no time in reattaching his lips, moving them to my nipples this time, taking them in his mouth and letting his teeth graze them lightly, my back arching in pleasure as i move my hands, using them to push his head further downwards.

“so fucking hot.” he mutters against them, paying each one attention before moving downwards. his lips begin to kiss my upper stomach, his eyes still staring into mine, never breaking eye contact as he crawls further down my body, making sure nothing goes untouched, until he reaches the hem of my panties.

his fingers tease the top of the material, slowly dipping inwards and caressing my lower abdomen, a quiet whine escaping my mouth as i become more and more desperate. he lifts the material upwards with his pointer and ring finger, letting it go as it snaps back into place, my teeth sinking into my bottom lip.

“please.” i breathe out, tired of his teasing as he has pretty clearly made his point, i just need to feel him inside me.

“please what?” he teases, his lips dangerously close to my inner thighs, planting a single kiss there, enjoying the way i squirm a little from the smallest of touches. “use your words, or i won’t know what you want baby.”

“please just touch me.” i sigh out, slightly embarrassed as i have to verbalise my needs, tom knowing full well what i want, loving how he has me at his mercy, willing to do anything if it means he will pleasure me.

“where?” he trails off, tugging my underwear down at an agonisingly slow pace, leaving the red lace on the floor. he kisses my inner thigh again, closer to my heat this time.

“here?” he asks, acting oblivious, getting closer and closer to the place i need him most.

i cannot even respond, my chest heaving up and down as i attempt to utter any sort of coherent speech, my mind too focused on the pleasure that i am so close to receiving to be able to do so.

“or…” he starts, moving his lips from my thigh and hovering directly over my clit, my heart racing as i anticipate his touch, finally where i want him. but, to my disappointment, he moves his head, placing a short kiss, directly above it. “here?”

he knows what he is doing, teasing me beyond belief, leaving me a complete mess, never having to wait this long to feel any kind of pleasure. i make eye contact at him, seeing him already looking upwards at me, a proud smirk tugging on his lips whilst he uses his hands to spread my thighs apart. i rest my head back against the couch again, an exasperated sigh escaping my parted lips.

“stop fucking playing and just-”

my needy rambling is soon cut off by a loud moan as his tongue quickly collides with my clit, his hands pressing into my inner thighs, prying them apart, the pressure he is applying definitely leaving marks, but i am too hazy to care, my mind lost in pure satisfaction. he uses his finger to slowly enter me, my mouth falling open as he picks up a steady pace, his tongue never leaving my clit as all i can do is cry out, incoherent curse words escaping my mouth, tom lowly breathing into me as my release is fast approaching, his slow torment before meaning that it really didn’t take much to get me there.

“fuck- don’t stop.” i let out, this signalling to him that i am close, my climax within arms reach, my hips beginning to grind against his face, yearning to let go of the knot forming in my stomach.

my head falls backwards, back arching off of the couch, seconds away from letting go, tom only speeding up his pace, but, before i can even release, he suddenly stops. my head shoots up in confusion, forehead glistening with sweat, more frustrated than ever.

“tom what the fuck?” i whine, pulling his body upwards so that his face is inches from mine. “why’d you stop, i was so fucking close!”

“be patient baby.” he whispers, planting a soft and quick kiss to my lips, reaching downwards and pulling his boxers down, letting them join the rest of our clothes scattered around the living room. “i said i would make it up to you, so that’s what i’m going to do, no rush.”

he rests both his arms at either side of my head, his hands positioned above it as he starts slowly stroking my hair, dipping his head downwards as he meets my lips, the kiss messy and heated. i am too lost within it to notice one of his hands slipping downwards, taking his dick in it as he positions it at my entrance, a soft whine muffling into the kiss from my lips.

he continues kissing me as he slowly slides in, stretching me out completely, my body never getting used to his size despite the countless times we have done this. he stops kissing me for a second, his forehead pressed against mine, his dick about halfway in.

“you okay?” he asks, wiping a single tear that i hadn’t even realised had fallen from my cheek.

“yeah…keep going.” i reply, placing both hands on his neck and pulling him back downwards, reconnecting our lips as he continues to move inside me until he bottoms out, so deep that i swear i feel him in my stomach. i wince a little, trying to see the pain through, the pleasure building up little by little whilst he stays still inside of me, letting me adjust, his lips still working against mine.

“move.” i manage to say into the kiss, tom pulling halfway out before sliding back inwards, my eyes squeezing shut as he builds up a steady rhythm, moving in and out of me at a slow pace.

“faster.” i say, the pain quickly subsiding, leaving me feeling nothing but pure pleasure. he wastes no time, now thrusting in and out of me at a much faster pace, low grunts emitting from his mouth as he moves his head, kissing my neck slowly, running his tongue over where he had been sucking, soothing the marks a little.

“fuck- you feel so good…” he groans, taking my hips and grabbing a stable hold of me, kneading the flesh and allowing himself to thrust in and out of me easier. “missed this so much, missed you so bad baby.”

all i can do is let out a barely audible ‘mhm’, clinging to his back and running my hands down the soft skin, feeling his muscles flex with each strong movement. my body is flush against his chest, moving in sync with his own, chasing my release as he does the same.

he moves his head, resting his forehead on my own, staring into my eyes as he fucks me, his mouth open, breathing heavy, face glistening with sweat as his pace never falters. i watch the way his eyebrows furrow and eyes flutter shut when i clench around him, knowing exactly how to get him to his climax, his tip brushing over my spot as he helps me get to my own, the familiar knot soon forming in my stomach.

“i’m getting close baby, you close?” he breathes out, his hips stuttering a little, letting me know that he can’t hold on much longer - and neither can i.

“mhm, fuck- please tom, don’t stop…” i cry out, eyes rolling to the back of my head, breath hitching as i am almost there, seconds away from finding my release, chasing it desperately as my hips begin to meet his thrusts, lazily hitting his pelvis as he lets out small moans.

“where do you want it?” he asks, his movements slowly becoming irregular. “fuck- i can’t hold it, where?”

“inside.” i say, tom saying nothing in response as i feel his dick twitch inside of me, followed by his cum coating my walls. his head falls backwards, chest heaving up and down as his eyes screw shut, mouth open as a long groan leaves his mouth, his hips moving at a slow pace, riding out his own high, this triggering my own release.

tears roll down my face as the pleasure takes over, the feeling so strong i question wether i am on the verge of passing out, or, perhaps i am in heaven, the sex almost too good to be true.

he collapses on top of me, his breathing loud and heavy, bodies glistening with sweat as we lay in silence, tom stroking my hair, moving the loose strands that had fallen onto my face.

“did that show you how sorry i am?” he breathes out, slowly pulling out of me and caressing my waist, looking into my eyes as i manage a lazy smile.

“you need to be sorry more often.” i say, holding his face in my hands as my body lays limply below him. “if it means you fuck me like that then you can mess up every single day.”

he grins slightly, kissing my collarbone gently, looking upwards at me as our eyes meet.

“seriously though. i’m really sorry baby. please forgive me.” he says, moving so that his face is hovering over mine, his thumb caressing my cheek.

i smile upwards at him, placing a soft kiss on his lips as he kisses back, pulling away and kissing my forehead quickly, sitting upright and pulling me into his lap, my legs wrapping around his torso, arms around his neck.

“i love you.” he says, bringing me in closer to his embrace. “please say it back, you haven’t these past few days and i fucking hated it.”

he lets out a small laugh, but i can tell that it genuinely hurt him, guilt beginning to rise in my stomach.

“you know how stubborn i can be, but you were also a massive asshole.” i say, looking upwards at him, his eyes already gazing into mine. “i love you though, you know i do.”

not even bothering to get dressed, or go to our bedroom, we both fall asleep in each other’s arms, silently promising to never let our arguments get to that point, although we now knew that we had a way to fix it, no matter how bad it got.

requests are open! keep sending them in!!

[shattersstar]

secrets.

pairing: jason todd x reader

prompt: say my name (cover) by hozier

a/n: 1/3 :) enjoy <3

—

He had come home through the front door, black duffel bag slung over his shoulder despite the ache starting to spread across his body. He shuffled in with a low sigh, the pain from falling off a fire escape finally settled in as he crossed the threshold. He let his bag slip off his shoulder, catching it seconds before it slapped the hardwood as Jason remembered he wasn’t home. Well he was, your apartment was more a home than his or even the manor ever was, but it wasn’t a place to be loud without a care. Not at this hour at least. Jason set it down carefully instead, trying to ignore the pain shooting up his back as he kneeled to unlace his boots.

He heard your door creak open, soft shuffling as your silhouette appeared in the hallway. He hadn’t even looked up yet and your presence soothed something wild in him instantly. “Hey baby.” Jason grinned, surprised you were awake, but happy to see you nonetheless. “How come you’re up, thought you worked in the morning?” You stayed unmoved and Jason looked back up at you, fingers stilling on his laces.

He opened his mouth to speak, throat starting to feel thick at the cold demeanour rolling off of you, but you replied before he could, “Someone wanted my shift so…” Your voice was above a whisper, unsteady and it had Jason standing at his full height. He reached over to flick on the hallway light, letting the yellow light fill the space more than the one lamp in the living room could. You looked tired, face tear stained and your massive comfort hoodie on. He remained unmoved, swallowing the dry and bloody taste in his mouth while you shifted your weight.

Jason knew he had been distant lately, but a new dealer had popped up and was causing him problems, ones that left marks too unexplainable. He called you most afternoons when he could, but it had been almost a month since you two hung out properly, let alone went on a date. You had always taken Jason’s life in stride even if you didn’t know the details, you knew it would demand more of him than you could ever have, but what you got was enough so you didn’t care. It was what you had told him, so sincerely and earnestly when he finally agreed to go out with you again. It had been a good decision—great even—but it wasn’t easy. And Jason wasn’t stupid, he’s cancelled your Tuesday date nights twice this month and the fact he left your apartment after being there for two hours last week were stupid choices that lead to more violence Jason had to keep you from. He should have apologized then, but he was just so relieved to be able to spend a night with you.

He didn’t have to lie today, Jason wanted to tell you that so badly. That he did fall off a fire escape, slipping in the rain and landing smack on his back in a dark alleyway. And while he was in his gear, fell from seven stories up and had a helmet to protect what could have been a lethal mistake into just a stupid one. Yet, as you let out a breathy shuddering sigh, Jason wondered if half of the truth would be enough. It seemed as if you were after much more.

“Are…are you okay?” He found himself asking, voice betraying him as the nervousness he was trying to hide poured out. And he knew you weren’t okay, it was a stupid thing to ask and Jason was angry at himself for not being able to understand more.

“Just…are you—“ You stifled a sob, taking half a step back which made his veins run colder, “Are you cheating on me?” Jason’s face fell at your words, they were so far from the truth, but hurt deeper than he could have ever imagined. They scathed something raw in his heart, and he was crossing the small space in a handful of strides.

“Fuck no—no, never. I would never do anything like that to you baby, never. There is no one else, but you. You’re—fuck you’re everything okay? Just no, no, I’m not fucking cheating, no, not on you.” He was angry, stammering and tripping over his words, but held your face in his hands so gently. Jason’s capacity for tenderness even at his angriest never ceased to make your heart flutter. Tears spilled over your eyes at his words, you wanted to badly to believe him.

“But you’re so far away, distracted and carrying that bag I can’t fucking stand the sight of. And I get shit is gonna come up, but three date nights in a row? Seriously? You didn’t even say anything about Friday either Jay! I was outside my apartment for an hour and waited inside for two more.”

His eyes fell closed, Jason had completely forgot he was supposed to take you on his bike around the outskirts of the city for a picnic. It was to makeup the fact he’d miss your date on Tuesday, instead he was following a lead to Bludhaven that had him there till last night. He had been so caught up in work he didn’t even realize that Friday had came and went.

“Fuck I forgot about that.” He muttered in explanation, eyes dropping from yours.

“Yeah I kinda figured,” You sniffled, letting a moment of silence pass before as your anger simmered more into desperation. “God, its like I know you’re keeping things from me, and I accepted the secrets around your life when we first started dating, but this? This is another level. Jason, I know you’re hiding something intrinsic and meaningful to you—from me—and now you’ve just…left me in the dust.” You couldn’t tell if you had said all of that, or if it stayed locked inside your throat, until regret started to flash across Jason’s face at your words. You couldn’t stop the sob that escaped your throat, wanting to collapse into the floor while he still held you so close.

“I know, I know.” He whispered, teeth tugging on his bottom lip. He wanted to be able to say anything to break the tension, to make you smile or slap him, but you had been more than gracious. Jason had known that, it ate him alive most nights, and he couldn’t even find anger towards you within himself. Couldn’t force himself to lash out and push you away because it made it digestible and easy to leave. “I’m not cheating on you, I cant even look at anyone else–but I can’t tell you everything, I just can’t. Because Gotham, this city? It’s dangerous, and I am…close to that danger. You know me and what I would or wouldn’t do, so know I’m doing what’s right. I just can’t let you into this world, its not safe and I can’t lose you to it.” You urged his eyes back to yours, only stray tears escaping as you searched his gaze for the truth. It was so sincere, which should’ve been horrifying, but it brought peace to your chest. Something violent enraptured this man you loved, and yet it settled something in your core.

“And I’m, uh, I’m sorry. For keeping you in the dark.” He added, averting your gaze at his apology. Jason was never good with faults, with accepting them gracefully and apologizing for them, but you knew he meant it. Meant the words that often struggled to escape his lips. He only looked back when he felt your hands nudge his sides, your head moving from his hands and tipping into his chest. Jason let his arms wrap around your shoulders, pulling you close as you let your last few tears stain the front of his shirt. He smelled clean, like his body wash and gasoline.

“Did you ride your bike over?” You mumbled into him, feeling the vibrations of his voice as he spoke.

“Yeah, why? Wanna go on a drive?” You nodded against Jason’s chest, but held him tighter first. He got the message, and kept holding you, placing a soft kiss on the top of your head. When you untangled yourselves, he dried your face with the sleeve of his shirt, a watery laugh bubbling from you.

“Fuck that bag though.” You suddenly said, nodding over his shoulder. It made him laugh in turn.

“I’ll keep it out of the apartment.”

“Out of sight works fine for me.” You replied, before Jason pulled you in for another embrace, a beat of silence before he lead you towards your bedroom. You sat down as he rummaged around your closet, finding the helmet he gave you on the highest shelf. He passed it to you before slinking out of his brown leather jacket and tossing it your way. Jason couldn’t help the grin that pulled at his lips as your eyes lit up once the fabric landed in your lap. You had always loved his jacket, it smelled like him and was worn down to the point of being one of the most comfortable things you got to wear. Jason instead slipped on the black leather jacket you had gotten him on your first anniversary, yanking it out of the front hall closest before sliding his hand into yours.

You walked to the parking garbage hand in hand, Jason keeping you pressed close while stealing glances down at you every few seconds. He was searching for a moment of hesitation—regret—in your eyes. His heart was still raw from it all, as was yours, but the idea Jason could even entertain being with someone else made his skin crawl. He had always felt a shade too possessive over you—you both knew that—he was trying to work on it, but god if he didn’t want to double down now. Jason wanted to show you the darkest sides of himself, to let how you made him feel consume him whole until he was an ugly, unrecognizable thing built only for violence and loving you.

An unholy beast whimpering in the dark of night.

But it wasn’t the time, not when your hands snaked around his waist and your helmet rested on his back. It made it hard to wallow in his own pity with your hands burning a hole through his torso. Instead, Jason peeled off into the Gotham night.

It was late enough the streets were quiet, the long stretching and twisting highways that connected the sprawled out city were empty save a few cars. City lights streamed by and Jason felt your head left to watch them in their neon haze. You both let the truth wash over you, you knew he wasn’t seeing anyone else, you believed him despite how daunting the truth may be. It seemed graspable, aligned with the splintered edges of his past and personality you had been exposed too. You still loved him all the same, you told Jason that enough, but as you rode through the city, you couldn’t help how your mind began to swirl. How well did you truly know the love of your life?

Jason sensed it, how your grip faltered and you suddenly felt so far off. Like you’d float away both in body and mind.

He slowed down after a turn, pulling off before a bridge and down to those small area of greenery hidden amongst exits and signs. Jason shut off his bike, letting you shuffle back as he clambered off carefully. He pulled his helmet off and helped you out of yours before setting them aside. “You okay?”

“Yeah, its just a lot of think about and I thought my head would be clearer now.” You admitted with a shrug.

“Well tanks full so we can keep riding till your head is clear.” He said, half teasing, but it sounded appealing. Jason noticed your contemplation, and smiled at you, spending a night roaming Gotham on his bike with you till sun up was nothing short of perfect for Jason, and you shouldn’t have been surprised at the suggestion let alone his silent agreement to do so. He handed you back your helmet and slouched against the side of his bike for a sec. You stared into the visor before one of Jason’s knuckles knocked your chin, pulling your attention to him. “It’s always gonna be you y’know? You’re the only one allowed this close.”

You leaned into Jason’s touch, kissing the palm of his hand before he pushed himself up and grabbed his helmet. You slipped yours on and smiled wildly underneath it. Things were going to change, but he was still the man you loved, and you were happy to share him with the grittier parts of this city if he was coming home to you. And as Jason flipped up the kickstand and started his bike to ride on through the remaining hours of dark till sunrise for you, you both knew it would be your bed he fell into every night. Or so help Gotham.

[btsficsandsuch]

Hey ,hope you are doing okay. I wanted to request a taehyung × reader where she gets hurt or something when he was on tour but she tries to hide it from her but he finds out eventually. angsty with happy ending

Here you go. I hope you like it!!

I’m Alway Worried About You

This is not how you planned your Tuesday night going. Thankfully the emergency room wasn’t too packed and they were able to get you seen pretty quickly. “Okay Y/N. It seems you have a bad case of pneumonia. Everything will be okay and you’ll make a full recovery but we do want to keep you for the next 24 hours to give you some breathing treatments and make sure it doesn’t get any worse.”, the doctor advises you. You simply nod your head in agreement and watch as we walks out the door.

“You should really call Taehyung and let him know what’s going on.”, your best friend speaks up. “No I can’t do that. He’s on tour and he’ll freak out. He’ll be on the next plane back.”, you say shanking your head. She laughs, “And that would be a bad thing why? It’s obvious he loves you.” “I know he does but he’s already given up so much for me. I don’t want him to get in trouble. Plus the doctor said I’ll be fine so there’s no reason he ever has to find out about this.”, you reply. After convincing your friend that you’d be okay and didn’t need her to spend the night you said goodbye and settled in for the night.

The following morning you woke up extremely tired and with a massive headache. When the doctor told you that you’d be getting breathing treatments you didn’t think he meant every hour. You just finished yet another treatment when your phone started vibrating on the table next to you. Checking the screen you saw Taehyungs name flashing. You’d already ignored two of his calls so you knew if you did it a third time he’d have someone looking for you so you had no choice but to answer.

“Hello”

“There you are Y/N! I was getting worried.”

“I’m sorry Tae. I was in the shower.”

“It’s okay. How are you? I miss you so much!”

“Aww babe I miss you too! How much longer until you get back?”

“Umm like two weeks.”

“Oh that’s not too ba-“

You’re cut off before you can finish. “Here you go Miss. These are your discharge papers. The dr will be in shortly to give your lungs one final listen.”, the nurse says before turning and walking away. You’re glad they weren’t currently checking your blood pressure because the machine definitely would’ve blown up. You were praying Taehyung didn’t hear that but before you even continue he asks,

“Discharge papers and doctor? Y/N are you okay?”

“Yeah I’m fine Tae. It was in the drama I’m watching on tv. The female lead was in the hospital.”, you said hoping he buys the lie.

“Alright. Well I have to get going. I’ll talk to you later. I love you Y/N.”

“I love you too Tae. Be safe! Tell the boys I say hi.”

After the call ended you let out a long sigh thankful that he didn’t ask any more questions. The doctor came in shortly after and checked your breathing. He said you still sounded a little sick but much better than yesterday. He gave you a prescription for an inhaler to use if you felt like your breathing was getting worse and signed off on your discharge. Your best friend was waiting in the lobby to take you home.

The next couple weeks went by fast. Every day you felt a little stronger and you only had to use the inhaler twice. Today was an exciting day because Taehyung was finally coming home after being gone for the last couple months. As soon as he walked in the door you ran and jumped into his arms, “I missed you so much Tae.” He spun you around the living room before giving you a kiss, “I missed you too Y/N.”

After spending some time catching up you both realize that you’re starving and decide to check out a new restaurant that just opened up. The meal was great. Taehyung told you all about the tour. He showed you all of the pictures and videos he took. You couldn’t stop the smile that was on your face. As the two of you made your way back home you held his hand close, just happy that he was finally there. You both walked from the car over to the elevator ready to get upstairs and cuddle and watch the newest drama everyone keeps talking about. You went to press the button on the elevator when you noticed a big yellow sign taped to the doors ‘Out Of Service. Please Take the Stairs. Sorry For The Inconvenience’.

Taehyung scoffs next to you, “For how much we pay to live here you’d think they could keep everything in working order.” You nod in agreement but have no choice but to take the stairs. Luckily your apartment is only on the fifth floor but it’s still quite a few stairs to take. With each staircase it gets harder and harder to breathe. Taehyung notices, “Are you okay Y/? We can take a break.” You shake your head, “No this is just a reminder that I have to start working out more.” The two of you continue up and finally reach your floor. You never thought you’d be so happy to see the tacky green carpet of the hallway leading to your apartment.

Now it seems that with each step your lungs are getting weaker and weaker. Sure you’re not the most physically fit person but you’ve never been this exhausted before. Then you remembered how the doctor told you that your lungs could be weaker for the next couple months as they fully recover from the pneumonia and that’s why he gave you the inhaler. You had stuffed the inhaler in the back of your nightstand drawer thinking you’d never need it again and wanted to make sure Taehyung never found it.

“Y/N are you sure you’re okay? You don’t look that good.”, he says pushing open the door to your apartment. You try to respond but realize you don’t have enough breath in your lungs to speak. You start to panic and begin pointing at your chest. “What’s wrong? Do I need to call for an ambulance? Y/N, try to breathe.”, he says clearly upset. Still unable to speak you start briskly walking back to your bedroom, Taehyung following close behind. Once you get to your nightstand you start pulling out item after item throwing them on the floor until you get to what you’re looking for. The navy blue inhaler. Quickly you follow the directions and push down inhaling the medicine and holding your breath. You Wait 10 seconds and do it again. After another 10 seconds you take one more inhale. Closing your eyes you sit on the bed and wait for the medicine to take effect.

Thankfully it only takes a couple minutes for the medicine to start working and slowly you can feel your lungs taking in more air. When you finally open your eyes you search for Taehyung and see him standing in front of you with wide eyes. “Y/N, what’s going on? We’ve been together for five years and you never told me you had asthma and I’ve never seen you use an inhaler.”, he asks with hints of fear and anger in his voice.

Taking another deep breath you grab his hand and pull him next to you. You decide it’s best to come clean. “I don’t have asthma. A few weeks ago I was admitted to the hospital with pneumonia. They gave me this inhaler but I didn’t think I’d need it so I didn’t bring it and I’ve been feeling much better but I think taking all of those stairs overworked my lungs. I’m sorry if I scared you.”, you said unable to look at him. “Of course you scared me Y/N. I thought you were dying. Why didn’t you tell me you were in the hospital? That’s not fair to keep something like that from me.”, he said trying but failing to hide the anger in his voice. “I’m sorry Tae. The doctor said I was going to be fine. If it was something serious I would’ve called you. I just didn’t want you to worry about me.”, you said squeezing his hand.

Taehyung lifted your chin so you were looking at him, “Y/N, I’m always worried about you when I’m not with you. I worry if you’re safe, if you’re healthy, if you’re happy, if you’re eating and sleeping well. Just like you’re always worried about me. If something happens and I’m not here I need to know about it. Even if it’s a paper cut you got while opening the mail. Even if I’m on the other side of the world. Promise me if something ever happens again you will call me, no matter what.” You nod and kiss his cheek, “I promise. I’m sorry.”

He gives you a big boxy smile, “Good. Now let’s clean up and then meet me on the couch. We’ve got a whole drama to binge watch in one night so we better get started.” You laugh and begin placing things back in the drawer except for the blue inhaler you can’t seem to find anywhere. Panic sets in until you see Taehyung in the living room holding the inhaler and talking on the phone. You bite your lip trying to hide the smile that forms as you hear him say, “Yes the prescription is for Mrs.Y/N Kim. I was wondering what would be needed to be able to get enough of these inhalers to put one in every room of the house and to have one on me at all times.” You laugh at his concern. You know they’d never give you enough to do that but for the time being you’ll let him have this moment and you feel your heart swell at how much he loves and cares about you.

[adamcoled]

comfort | rhea ripley

rhea ripley x fem!reader

summary: comforting rhea as she handles the disappointment of not being on the summerslam card.

word count: 1,620

warnings: some small sexual implications basically

a/n: just something simple i wrote in my upset over no rhea at ss :/

With Rhea’s schedule, you definitely didn’t get to spend time with her as much as you’d like. She was on the road often, and you led a normal life at a home she’d frequently have to be away from for days at a time. You tried to attend any shows that were close enough and aligned with your schedule, but your priority was always PLEs. And of course, with SummerSlam being the second biggest PLE of the year, you were absolutely going to be there. While you and Rhea would be traveling together for the most part, she had plenty of media events so you wouldn’t be seeing much of her in the days leading up to the show. However, Rhea was home for a couple of days ahead of her schedule in Detroit, and those days would be reserved solely for the two of you. 

But during those days, you couldn’t help but notice that Rhea seemed off. You knew her better than anyone, so when there was a difference in her mannerisms, you could tell. She wasn’t her usual smiley, flirty, goofy self that she was with you; she was much quieter, reserved, and seemed to be lost in her own head. When she arrived home late Tuesday night, you figured she was just tired. You had greeted her at the door by practically throwing yourself into her arms, and she kissed you chastely before placing you down and mumbling that she wanted to shower and get in bed. Salaciously, you offered to shower with her - smiling innocently despite your intent - but she said she was going to be quick and you’d might as well just wait for her in bed. You frowned at that, but tried not to feel too disappointed since it was late and she probably was exhausted; you just hadn’t seen her in days and missed her desperately. 

Then the next morning came, and you were certain something was up. You’d woken up before her and decided to let her sleep in - even though she would probably give you hell for it later. Some mornings, you two would go out for a nice little breakfast, but you took it upon yourself to cook up something for you two at home. Cooking wasn’t exactly your specialty, but for her, you would always go all out (to the best of your capability). Once the meal was done, you made a plate for Rhea and set it aside before checking your bedroom to see if she was awake yet. 

Sure enough, she was, but when you walked in you saw her sitting up with her head in her hands and her phone discarded to your side of the bed. 

“Rhea…” you began, making your way over to her in concern. “What’s wrong baby?” 

Hearing your voice, she lifted her head and you placed a soft kiss to the top of it, to which she immediately smiled, but it wasn’t a genuine, wholehearted Rhea smile you knew so well. She saw the worry in your eyes and knew she wouldn’t be able to fool you for a second, nor did she want to. With you, she knew she could be open, transparent, and honest; with you, she could be weak when she had to be strong everywhere else. 

“They’re keeping me off SummerSlam,” Rhea revealed, pushing hair out of her face in frustration. “Not enough time and not enough build for me and Raquel.” 

Your eyes widened upon hearing this, because it didn’t make sense to you how she just wasn’t on the card to defend her title as one of the most over wrestlers in the company. Even more puzzling, it truly seemed like they were heading down the Rhea v. Raquel path, something even Rhea had told you about weeks ago. Now, she was matchless and off the card besides any Judgment Day antics for such a major PLE, making Rhea’s feelings entirely reasonable. You weren’t even sure how to comfort her, but to her, all she really needed was just you. 

“Oh, Rhea. I’m so sorry, you deserve to be on the card. You’ve worked your ass off for this,” you consoled, crawling back into bed next to her. She leaned into you, relishing in your warmth despite how defeated she felt.

“It just fucking sucks. Even worse when it makes people start questioning me as a champion, I’ve seen that a lot on social media recently.”

Just hearing that made you angry, because it was entirely out of Rhea’s hands at that point.

 “What control do you have over the booking? Of course you’d be out there if it was up to you!” you exclaimed, letting your emotions take over for a moment. Rhea chuckled at this, loving how passionate and fiery you could be - especially over her. 

“People don’t think about that, they just see me not defending the title and run with it,” she sighed, shifting from her spot beside you to lean back against the headboard. Her eyes focused on the ceiling, lost in thought and vexation. “I’m sorry for how I’ve been last night and this morning, love. I know you were worried.”

Your gaze softened, placing your hand against her cheek before connecting your lips to hers. It was the first real time you’d gotten to kiss her since she left the week prior and you had missed the feeling so terribly, and so did she. Rhea deepened the kiss, her tongue swiping across your bottom lip deviously. You were glad she seemed to be feeling better, at least. 

“You have nothing to apologize for, I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I know you try to shoulder things on your own sometimes,” you chided, pushing a few of her stray hairs behind her ear. Though you thought she looked incredible every time she showed up on WWE television, you loved being able to see her in this state so much - bare-faced, still not even fully awake, hair a little messy. 

“Well you always pry it outta me,” Rhea laughed, squeezing your thigh. 

“Because I need Rhea Ripley to know she doesn’t have to be invincible. You can feel things like a normal human and I’ll be here to remind you how amazing you are.”

“Baby, I knew I wasn’t invincible the moment I met you,” she corrected. “My kryptonite.”

Rhea pulled you on top of her, earning a surprised gasp and giggle from you which she adored. Once you were settled, she took a moment to appreciate how beautiful you looked. She was so in love and so in awe of you, and she felt that constantly, but it was like her heart was going to burst out of her chest each time she was physically near you. 

“I feel like I’m disappointing you. I mean you took off work and committed to traveling to watch me perform, and now I’m not even on the show,” Rhea spoke honestly. She was heartbroken that she wouldn’t be able to see you in the crowd, cheering her on during her match. 

“Shhh,” you silenced her. “I’m only disappointed for you, but I still get to be with you for a few days even if you’ll be busy most of the time. I don’t have a single regret.”

She knew you would feel that way, but that didn’t erase the small amount of guilt she still felt. Regardless, she appreciated the hell out of you, and already was in much higher spirits just from talking to you. Of course, her frustration was still there, tugging at her, but now she had you looking at her so sweetly and it helped infinitely. You were proud of her no matter what and she could only hope that she’d make it onto the next PLE card to put on a good match for you. 

“God, how did I get so lucky?” she asked, kissing your forehead, and then your nose, and then your lips. You rolled your eyes, about to open your mouth to tell her you were the lucky one (which she already expected you to say) but she stopped you in your tracks by bringing her hands to your butt and squeezing. She watched your eyes light up mischievously and laughed, certain the action had your thoughts running - it absolutely did to her. 

“I made breakfast, by the way,” you mentioned, almost as a joke because you were well-aware food was likely the last thing on her mind now. And you were right about that.

“You’re an angel, but do you really think I’m thinking about breakfast right now?” 

“Hmm, maybe,” you giggled. “And I’m not an angel. I’m just your girlfriend.”

You were still teasing, so Rhea played the same game. She traced her thumb along your bottom lip, reveling in the way your lips almost instinctively parted as if you were inviting her in. Realistically, you were. You had been craving her since she got home the night before and now she had enticed you fully. 

“Don’t play dumb, pretty girl. But at least you know you’re mine,” Rhea grinned. Her thumb left your lip and instead her fingers entangled in your hair. Her lips came crashing onto yours, now a much hungrier, devilish kiss. She was consumed by both passion and love for you, but also anger over SummerSlam. Even still, you and Rhea were going to have a great weekend in Detroit and show them exactly why she should have been on the card. 

“‘M not playing,” you got out between feverish kisses. 

“Then how about we start?” 

But for now, you two were just going to enjoy each other. 

[lambourngb]

good fences make good neighbors

Commiseration Tuesday

With AO3 temporarily down, lots of us are sad at not being able to read when we wanted to! With that in mind, I’m taking the opportunity to invite you guys to share a little something from a WIP to keep us going through the downtime! Preferably something we haven’t shared before, but whatever works for you! Tagged by @ravens-words​ - thank you! I am working on an exchange fic, so I can’t share that, but I can share a WIP that I had before then...

ICEMAV - Set just after 1986 - based on a prompt where Mav and Ice are roommates and they have noisy neighbors. mentions of period-typical homophobia, and some misunderstandings ....

4400 words currently, but unfinished.

***

It was the third time that week.

Maverick stared sightless up at the plain white ceiling, tracing the cracks in the plaster while he listened to his next-door neighbors, Wolf and Hollywood, do their best to medal in the sex noise Olympics. It would be one thing if they decided to do this during the early evening hours when Mav could raise the volume on the ball game enough to drown out the moans and rhythmic thumping, but apparently, no one had any excess energy *right* after a work day. Instead, the second wind came at 2 am.

Again, the third time in the week, and it was only Tuesday. Christ.

Mav swung his legs out of bed, abandoning his attempts at sleep. Tomorrow's seminar on flight instructor certification was going to be rough, but judging from his recent experience, and god did he hate that he had this knowledge, the next-door noise had only just gotten started. It would be at least an hour before things quieted down again.

He met his own roommate in the dimly lit kitchen. Ice's face was flat with annoyance.

"Woke you up too?" Mav asked stupidly because, of course, it did. Ice was completely by the book and subscribed to the minimum of eight hours of sleep during the week; only the noise of Hollywood and Wolf would have had him in the kitchen nursing a warm bottle of Budweiser.

"I bet if I reported them to the brass, it would stop," Ice muttered darkly before pushing a chair open for Mav with his foot and nodding toward the open six-pack on the table.

"Well, just means they would be annoying their fellow prison cellmates with this instead of us." Mav traded a tired smile with Ice, both of them secure in the knowledge that reporting Hollywood and Wolf was completely out of the question. A few sleepless nights was a small price to pay for them, a momentary annoyance; a complaint about the two pilots breaking the UCMJ with each other would have them both dishonorably discharged and likely imprisoned. In fact, because it *was* Mav and Ice sharing a wall in their base housing duplex was probably the only reason the couple felt safe enough to make any noise in the first place.

Still. It was one thing that their friends had a feeling of safety knowing they would never be turned in, it was becoming clear there was also ... a level of shamelessness going on next door.

Mav knuckled the gritty feeling of fatigue out of his eyes, "What I don't understand is ... how do they even have the energy? We're logging four hours in the cockpit and six in the classroom during this new certification session, and I think Jester has become even more sadistic in his teaching since we graduated from Top Gun. I can barely make it through the evening news at the end of the day, let alone want to do..."

He paused, and then they both heard the enthusiastic beat of a bed frame from next door, and the loud tempo of 'Oh god, oh fuck' soundtrack. "That."

"Are you admitting to a lack of stamina, Mitchell?" Ice smirked, his usual cool expression curving into an even more familiar expression of mocking Mav. At least now, there was only humor in Ice's blue eyes instead of the dislike from when they first met.

"What?! No, there's nothing wrong with my stamina; I have zero complaints about that. I'm just saying... those idiots have been together for years, how are they still... like that?"

This time Ice looked away, taking a long slow draw from his beer. The oven light and microwave clock hid most of the details, but Mav knew him pretty well now, he could sense the discomfort in the question. "I wouldn't know. My longest relationship lasted through the holiday break during the Academy."

"Are we talking two days of Christmas or the eight nights of Hanukkah?"

"The former...and believe me, my mother despairs of me."

Mav laughed and held out his beer to clink against Ice's in solidarity over their sad love lives. "Well, you beat me. My streak is six weeks, give or take." 

He wasn't even sure if he could count the time between Hop 31 and getting cleared to fly again as time spent with Charlie, most of that was a blank in his memory of grief and intense accident investigation prep work. Top Gun was an 8-week combat school session, in between finally scoring a date with Charlie and getting dumped for the Washington job two weeks after the Layton rescue, six weeks was probably generous. Maybe he should count Penny instead, add up his assorted weekends with her after meeting her in flight school when her father was overseeing Pensacola. Four years, six weekends.

"I always beat you," Ice reminded him, annoying as always in his precision, with the memory of last year between them. 

Mav had no idea where the Top Gun trophy was, only that he was a little surprised that it wasn’t displayed prominently in their quarters, especially after Ice had found out who his roommate was at the beginning of the session. 

Actually a lot of Mav’s presumptions about Ice and what he would be like to live with had not come true. Neatness was a rule, but there were no white glove inspections of Mav’s room and only the drollest reminder to throw out the carryout containers after a few days, and they both agreed to keep the women at the O-Club. After all, the curriculum to qualify as a Top Gun instructor was difficult enough, without complicating it with a clingy boat chaser or pilot groupie that stalked the bars around Miramar. As it turned out, as straight-laced as Ice was in his job, he was surprisingly relaxed about the apartment. Mav had even expected some sort of judgment from Ice about his sparse civilian wardrobe or his cheap generic toiletries from the exchange, but there was nothing. 

Other than the old joke about who was the better pilot, Ice was a generous and easy-going roommate. Most of the time he put up a token protest about Ice’s winning streak (1 out 1 in competitions) but he was too tired to argue tonight. 

Instead, he flashed a smile at Ice, letting his shit-eating grin say everything for him. Ice rolled his eyes in turn, but maybe he was tired too, allowing the subject to drop without a further jibe.

The thumps and sounds were slowly winding down, and Maverick picked up their empty bottles to take to the trash. He yawned, and gestured to the side where Wolf and Hollywood were staying, “I do appreciate that they feel safe here, what I don’t appreciate is the timing of it. I almost yawned in Viper’s face during the flight log review today because of them.”

Ice’s eyes crinkled at the admission, but he was kind enough not to laugh at least. He put the rest of the six pack back in the fridge and then wiped the table down with a papertowel, leaving the kitchen pristine again. “I agree. Their timing could be better, or at least quieter, and I guess I’m only a little jealous of them.”

“Why, because they’re getting laid?”

“No,” Ice drawled, without an eyeroll this time, “because they found each other. I might not have had a long-term relationship before, but I’m not opposed to the idea. Wood and Wolf, while I know they have to hide their relationship, at least they can talk about their jobs without boring the other person, or worse, spending the evening explaining acronyms. That kinda sounds nice to me.”

Then it had to be a trick of shadow, or the thin draperies by the window, but Mav suddenly had the impression that Ice was *blushing* after that confession. His mind spun over the possibilities, was that something that his wingman was interested in, and with whom, only a few people could possibly check that narrow set of boxes. Certainly not any of the women at the O-Club, unless Ice had his eye on someone Mav didn’t know. Pensacola had been graduating women for at least ten years, though not many in fixed-wing operations. He shook his head, deciding that he must have imagined that. Iceman was way too controlled to blush. 

He realized he was staring just then, and was standing too close to Ice in the dimly lit kitchen. Rushing to cover for his shameful preoccupation, Mav rubbed the back of his head and scoffed. “Yeah, sure it sounds nice, but I can’t really imagine it being realistic. At least not for me.” 

Ice said nothing in response, not even to make fun of Mav, he just brushed past him to leave the kitchen. The quiet in their apartment had been restored, it was time to attempt sleep again. 

As Mav waited to fall back asleep he realized that another presumption that he had about Ice had fallen completely flat. Ice might have been robotic in his flying at time, but the man was also a secret romantic. 

*

Two nights later it happened again. The thin walls transcribe nearly every movement and every breathless gasp from Wolfman and Hollywood.

Mav sat up in bed with a loud groan of annoyance as the ‘Oh oh, yes!’ chorus started up again. His textbook that he had fallen asleep reading slipped off his lap onto the floor with a loud thump, and then he crashed into his nightstand after overbalancing in his attempt to reach it. The nightstand hit the wall, and Mav yelped loudly in pain.

There was a pause and a giggle from the shared wall and then a loud shushing noise.

He rubbed his elbow, retrieving the textbook from the floor. Thank god blessed silence, Mav thought as the quiet extended past a few minutes, before pushing up from the floor to crawl back in bed.

Except the respite was brief, and the rocking movements of the headboard.

Mav groaned again, even more annoyed by them now. 

There was another spell of quiet, and suddenly, he realized what was going on. Wolf and Wood were listening to him. “Oh you fucking pervs,” Mav whispered to himself, and then shrugged. Maybe it was time for them to get a taste of their own medicine. He got on his knees and grabbed the plain headboard with one hand, then started to rock his hips in motion until the mattress squeaked in time with his efforts.

Boom, boom, boom, he knocked the headboard into the wall, while the mattress made obliging sounds with it. Mav pinched his thumb between the wall and the bed, pulling a loud cry of pain from his lips. Despite the circumstances that gave him an idea, it was the sound that was missing from his production. He moaned and cried loudly, until his muscles started to burn with the exertion.

Had it been long enough? How long did he have to do this? He didn’t want to be teased for being an early finisher if he quit too early-

Out of caution, Mav gave a few more minutes of his best performance without laughing, then he let out a satisfied whimper for his audience. 

It was silent next door. Maybe they were both voyeurs and got off to the noise and idea of someone else getting laid. Whatever the reason, Mav laid flat on his bed and fell asleep quickly in the renewed quiet. His last thought was smug, he had silenced the neighbors in half of the time and all it cost him was a bruised thumb.

* 

The next day was strange. It was Friday, and Mav woke up with a smile on his face. The class had an early morning test before they were all dismissed for the weekend, practically a three day holiday. He had studied the night before thoroughly and felt prepared, his sleep had only been disturbed briefly thanks to his ingenuity, and the weather was beautiful, perfect for an afternoon at the beach. Everything was coming up aces for him.

Except for one thing. Well, one person. Ice.

Never a chatty person in the morning without caffeine, Ice was downright monosyllabic on Friday. He nodded to Mav in the kitchen, taking his coffee back to his room with a brief return of Mav’s greeting of ‘Good morning’ and then he left for class before Mav was dressed from his shower, instead of sharing the walk to the hanger with him. 

Hollywood and Wolf on the other hand were all smiles and jokes that morning, elbowing each other and laughing whenever Mav came near them. He had chocked their behavior up to being a pair of immature pervs, even if they were madly in love with each other, and he had dismissed it completely. 

Ice’s behavior was a little harder to puzzle out.

His uniform was perfectly pressed, and his gold pen was still in his hand while they waited for the test to be passed out to the class. No sign of the lazy, hypnotic twirl that Ice was prone to do. It was as if every inch of him was locked down and under complete control. A complete 1-180 from how they first encountered each other. It was then that Mav realized that the pen-flipping and gum chewing were all signs of Ice being comfortable and at ease with his environment, and why wouldn’t he had been during TOPGUN, his skills had him in first place on day one, and everyone else had to play catch up, Mav included. Not today. A statue had more warmth and movement than Ice did. Mav tried to catch his eye from across the room, but Ice seemed to be deeply interested in front of the classroom and never acknowledged Mav.

That was also new.

“This might be a short day, gentlemen, but this test will determine whether you have the proficiency to teach the theories of aerial combat to incoming Top Gun classes. I hope you all studied hard,” Jester said from the podium with the tests in hand.

Hollywood smothered a laugh after Wolfman kicked the back of his chair.

“Something to add, Lt. Neven?” 

“No sir, we all studied hard. Some of us went at it a little harder than others last night,” Hollywood answered, almost respectfully. Mav noticed that Ice’s shoulders seemed to tighten and a red flush was spreading over Ice’s ear as he stared straight ahead completely stone-faced. The rest of the room was used to Hollywood running his mouth, nearly everyone rolled their eyes at the innuendo.

Mav had the strange feeling that he was missing something. Ice’s knuckles were white where he clutched his pen when just the other day that type of remark would have had him trading long-suffering looks with Mav. They knew better than anyone what Hollywood was referring to as the unlucky neighbors. However his musings were cut off by the appearance of the test. There would be time to figure out his wingman later, Mav reasoned, first he needed to make sure he didn’t wash out of the training program because of a stupid written exam.

The previous hard work the night before in studying was at least well rewarded. He confidently wrote in the answers to the open-ended questions and circled the appropriate bubbles during the multiple choice sections, hardly needing to pause to remember the correct information. Mav had to hide a smile as he reached the end of the exam, and noticed that Viper had updated the scenario with the MiG and inverted tanks. Finishing the test with a flourish, Mav stood at almost the same time as Ice did, both of them were the first to turn in their exams. 

He rushed to the front of the classroom, mostly with grace and slapped down his test in front of Jester with a smug celebration for being the first. Jester raised his eyebrows at the display, and placed the completed test to the side with an exaggerated gesture of patience. Mav turned his head to see if Ice was bothered by finishing second, only to watch him walk slowly and unhurriedly to the front, seemingly without a care. 

Like Mav was the only one who was competing. Like Mav wasn’t even worth competing with.

He was definitely missing *something* when it came to Ice. Well, as a pilot, Mav was well-trained in the dogged-pursuit of a bogie; putting his wingman in his sights was easy. Target acquired time to move in for the easy kill.

Or at least it should have been easy. Mav waited just outside of the classroom doors for Ice. 

Ice took one step out of the hanger, then caught sight of him, he then made a text-book perfect dress-right move away from him in an obvious attempt at avoidance. Ice must have been in charge of drill formations for his brigade at the academy, Mav mused to himself before jogging to catch up to match Ice’s long strides down toward the housing block. Something was definitely up with him.

Deciding to start with the obvious, Mav fell breathlessly in step with him, “Hey, so how do you think you did on the test? Not as bad as we thought, right?”

“Fine,” Ice gritted out without looking over at him.

“Just fine? I think I aced it,” Mav continued, undeterred by the short response. “Did you see the question about the inverted tanks? I feel like perhaps my name should have been cited as a resource there, since it was my intel from the Enterprise-”  he paused to see if Ice reacted to that, and was met with a clenched jaw but nothing else. “I guess we will find out on Monday if they wash any of us out for being too stupid to teach here. It’s not like the ASVAB where you get thirty points for spelling your name right, although yours was probably a challenge, Kazansky.”

“Right.”

There was no way that Ice was worried about failing out of the program, Mav thought, but maybe he was wrong about that. It was barely ten am, and there was almost three days before the results would be ready, maybe what Ice needed was a distraction. 

“Listen, it’s early enough, why don’t we hit the beach, scout out the best location before the rest of our class finishes up. Maybe it’s time for another rematch in volleyball,-”

“No, thank you,” Ice replied firmly.

The response was polite on the surface, but completely cold. Mav blinked, and realized that they were back at their shared quarters. Instead of moving toward his bedroom to remove his uniform for the long weekend, Ice was packing a slim carrying case with his textbooks and notes. His movements were smooth and unhurried under Mav’s stare, as if Mav wasn’t even there in the room with him.

He had tried subtle, but that had rarely worked for him, so Mav got straight to the point. “Is something wrong?” 

Ice didn’t pause after zipping the case up, even though his hands flexed on the supple leather. “No, nothing is wrong.”

“Are you sure? Because if I pissed you off, it wasn’t deliberate-”

Ice straightened, holding the case in his right hand. He was still the consummate officer, his left hand was free to salute, as he flicked his gaze over to Maverick for the first time all day. Up and down, without a hint of his thoughts on his face as Mav shifted anxiously under it. Whatever he saw on Mav, it must not have been interesting as he executed another precise pivot away from Mav. “You didn’t, I just don't have time for you right now, Mitchell.”

Dismissed. 

Mav thought about what Goose had said during that first night at the O-Club about Ice, “he wears you down, you get bored, frustrated, do something stupid and he's got ya-” somehow without Mav becoming aware of it, Ice had gotten lock on him and had fired, echoing the words of disinterested foster parents and bored peers who hadn’t cared to hear his teenage-mouth runoff about planes and the Navy in that dead end town.

Ice had his back to him thankfully for Mav’s ego, he was too intent on leaving the small duplex and missed the devastation left in his wake, calling out a belated, “Later, Mitchell,” over his shoulder. 

Still precise and polite, even after leaving a knife inside Mav. 

*

Time played games with Mav after that, slipping away in hours before lingering painfully over the last few minutes with Ice. He was somewhat aware of movement outside the door, a knock and call from Wolfman, some offer about the beach, but it felt unimportant to Mav. One thing was clear, he had not imagined the tension in Ice that morning and then the sudden dismissal after the test solidified that into fact. 

He had done something wrong, something that had killed the blossoming friendship between them after the Layton rescue. He had no idea what it could be, but he was a little too familiar with this type of confusion after having experienced it before as a kid. He remembered how it went back then, foster parents that were excited to welcome a son into their family, with wide smiles and effusive hugs always seemed to slip into cold, disapproving strangers because of something Mav had done.

There was even a particular look they would get after making the decision to return him to foster care, but before the social worker could find the next placement. With the brief return of the wide empty smiles, everyone would act nice, but behind it was the peace of knowing it would be just temporary and he would soon be someone else’s problem. 

Ice had found his limit with him; apparently, he was now cooly polite to Mav and obviously avoiding him. Maybe he had reached his own decision about Mav, there was no social worker for Ice to call to pick Mav up, but there were transfer orders and reassignments instead. 

He’s waiting to finish the teaching certification and then he’ll be headed back to sea, away from Miramar, Mav realized dully. They would finish the program qualified to be instructors, but not together. Somewhere along the line after Ice had signed up for the class with him, he had pictured sharing an office with him at Top Gun, taking up new pilots and bickering over paperwork, turning that bond they had from the Indian Ocean into something… more. 

Mav had never felt more stupid in his life, he suddenly understood why his stomach had clenched when Ice had confessed being a little jealous of Hollywood and Wolfman having found each other. “I might not have had a long-term relationship before, but I’m not opposed to the idea.” He was jealous, because he now realized that he wanted that too, with Ice. 

He swallowed the sour taste in his mouth and stood up from their couch, suddenly aware that hours had passed and he had done nothing to fix whatever he had done to piss Ice off. The key to convincing someone to keep him around had always revolved around being useful to them. He had learned early on that certain home placements had lasted longer when he accepted the bulk of household chores, then later on, he had ensnared Nick Bradshaw’s lifelong friendship when he had volunteered for newborn diaper duty with baby Bradley. Hell, even Charlie had hung around for his knowledge of the MiG, which was all very useful to her career prospects in Washington. 

Now how could he be useful to Ice, and make up for whatever he did to alienate the other man?

The quarters they shared were still neat, as per Ice’s original request but maybe he also meant he wanted them to be clean? That he could do.

*

It was almost eleven when Mav heard the key scrape in the lock that signaled Ice’s return. 

He kept his attention on the baseball game, long since placed on mute after the sound of the announcers had started to scrape over his anxiety. Ice flipped on the lights, causing him to blink owlishly at the brightness, his eyes having long since grown used to the dim light of the television.

“Sorry,” Ice apologized, still polite and courteous. “I didn’t think you’d be back.”

Mav glanced over at him before returning his attention to the game, even though he had no idea how his team was up by four. That confirmed another suspicion, Ice had stayed away until now because he wanted to avoid him. He hated it when his suspicions were proven correct. “Never left.”

He could see out of his periphery that his admission seemed to halt Ice in his tracks to the kitchen. It was just temporary, he recovered and continued to the small alcove to retrieve a beer from the fridge after placing his leather case on the small card table that masqueraded as a kitchen table. The sounds were familiar to Mav, the hiss of the refrigerator door, the snap of the bottle cap, the careful clink of Ice throwing the cap away in the trash, instead of tossing it carelessly like the rest of their class.

It all sounded normal, except for the bounds of tension that were looped around his chest. 

A ball was hit to the outfield, and Mav watched as it arched higher and higher over the desperate reach of a desperate center fielder. He blinked, realizing belatedly that his team had allowed the opponent to tie up the game. It was the bottom of the ninth, if his team held it they would have another shot at winning, but if they slipped it was all over. That, at least, felt familiar to Mav. 

“You cleaned,” Ice said, stating the obvious with a small wrinkle of confusion on his face as he took a seat next to Mav on the couch. His blue eyes scanned the room, noting each small change, like the rug was freshly beaten, the wood floors swept, the scent of lemon oil in the air. 

Mav pulled his attention away from the game and tried to read his expression, looking for some sign of approval or disapproval. Damnit, he was twenty-five years old, and somehow he had found a time portal back to 1973, eleven years old and wondering if he had cleaned the house well enough to avoid being sent back. For the first time since Ice had brushed him off, he felt the lick of anger at himself for being this weak. 

“I did.”

[cravingpepsimax]

would you like to hear about by stancest fankid bc she's gnawing on the bars of her enclosure right now and i can tell you're in a mood. jk im telling you anyways because i dont have a stancest sideblog

her name is stella pines and TECHNICALLY she's not related to either of them. and fords technically her stepdad. she ran away from home and was a feral forest child until stan was able to lure her into the mystery shack with beef jerkey. she also got Ghost Cursed but she doesn't talk about that :) Ghost Curse makes her basically albino but she just rolls with it. she's goth now. hell yeah. (Ghost Curse does more shit but that would be a whole other essay that im too tired to write rn. tldr; shes a lot more animalistic and feral and morally dubious than most people. ford has almost an aneurysm when he meets her bc Ghost Curse.)

stan found her when she was 9, around 10 years before the events of Gravity Falls. he Does Not Know where she came from and she Will Not Share. he named her stella because she didnt tell him what her name was prior to The Forest and so he went down a list of baby names until he found one she didn't bite him over. he's still not sure if it was her name or not (it wasnt)

stan explained her to gravity falls by just saying that he hooked up with a lady in vegas on a trip a while back and now the kids staying with him. This Is My Daughter. Put That DNA Test Away.

she figured out stan was lying about something pretty quick and by the time she was 11, she knew (basically) everything. she really really wanted to help but stan shooed her out every time she tried because "it's dangerous" and "you could get hurt" and "it's a lot of math, you'll probably get bored" and stellas just like "dad. i have disemboweled and devoured something thing that i'm only half sure was an animal using only my teeth when i was five years old. Let Me Into The Math Dungeons." and stans like "no"

she helps out in the mystery shack instead because SOMEBODY won't let her chew on wires in the basement. mabel thinks she's the shit. dipper is concerned.

when fords back shes just like "HEY uncle ford ive heard SO MUCH about you" *winkwink nudgenudge KISS HIM DAD*. when stan and ford tell her theyre dating shes like "about fucking time. do you wanna be pops or something or are you still uncle ford. youre pops now actually ive decided. anyways im crashing at wendys for the night i sure do hope you dont get this large house all to yourselves for the night with nobody to bother you when you do stuff. would be a real shame."

she has bingo nights with the gnomes every other tuesday. They Let Her Use Their Tunnels. this comes in handy.

OMG YES YES YES YESSS I LOVE HER SO MUCHHHH

one of the names for sylvan i considered was actually stellan WKAKSKSMSM

she means everything to me already . a DUBIOUS little creature getting up to MISCHIEF this is no good …

i feel like sylvan would have such a siblinglike relationship with her. they are bickering constantly but they are besties. somethin’ to do with them being feral and morally dubious. they would totally be gravity falls newest cryptids.

stella: oh, yeah, forgot to tell you: i’ve got a ghoooost cuurse *wiggles her fingers spookily* that’s where i get my white hair from!

sylvan: wish i had powers from my albinism. i’m just blind and can’t go out in the sun

stella, nodding: like a vampire.

sylvan: *raises a brow*

stella: ‘cause, you know, the sun… and… bats…

sylvan: not only are bats not blind, their eyesight is great.

stella: *rolls her eyes* ugh. remind me to never try to cheer you up again.

anon if you don’t make a stancest blog i am going to Attack you . with Hammers . i need to Communicate With You

[lemoncrushh]

The Entertainer II - Track 09 - Something in the Stars

Summary: What if it wasn’t the end? What if Sky did actually see Harry at the Forum in the early 80s, and he saw her too? What if fate took hold of them both, and they realized their journey was not over? Set in 1981, Harry and Sky’s story continues with more music, more romance, and a few more twists and turns.

STORY PAGE

Track 09 Word Count: 4.2k+

Read The Entertainer

“What are you wearing tomorrow?” Donna asked me Friday afternoon.

I was seated on the floor next to a filing cabinet, trying to get the last of my filing done before I left for the day.

“It’s…a red dress,” I answered vaguely.

“Ooh, red’s a sensual color!”

“It’s also the color of Christmas,” I scoffed over my shoulder.

“Even so,” Donna shrugged. “I bet Harry will like it. I was afraid to go with red myself. Joel might get the wrong idea.”

“I thought you liked Joel,” I remarked, sliding a client’s file into a tight spot.

“I don’t know…” Donna sighed. “I like him enough to go to a party with him. But I’m still not sure if I like him enough to go all the way.”

“Oh!” I exclaimed, probably a bit too loudly. Then I cleared my throat. “So you haven’t…um…”

“Nope,” she replied. “Not that he hasn’t made a move or anything…I just…I don’t know.”

“Hey, it’s okay to wait as long as you need,” I assured her. “Also, he may just not be worthy. It’s okay to say that, you know?”

“It is?”

Closing the filing cabinet with my hip, I returned to my chair and faced her.

“Of course. This is the eighties. Women should be able to speak their mind when it comes to sex. And we don’t need to put out just because we think the man wants it. Give your body when you’re good and ready, and to someone who deserves it.”

Donna rested her chin in her hand as she clicked a pen in the other.

“I take it Harry was worthy,” she said.

I felt my face flush before I even sputtered a word.

“Wh-what? Am I that transparent?”

Donna grinned at me. “I just know how you’ve been acting since you told me about him. He must be something special.”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “Yeah he’s…”

I let my mind wander to him for a second, trying to think of the words to say without giving too many details.

“Harry was always worthy,” I finally answered. “That’s really the only way I can describe it.”

“Hey babe, I’m sorry to call so late. Did I wake you?”

“Yeah,” I yawned. “But it’s okay.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Harry,” I insisted as I sat up in bed. “I told you it doesn’t matter what time you call.”

“Hmm, I have a feeling you could change your mind eventually.”

“Eventually? Does that mean you’re gonna continue to do this?”

“I hope not,” said Harry. “But this week hasn’t shown much promise.”

Since Tuesday night when Harry had called me from the party and then stayed the night, we hadn’t had much chance at conversation. Wednesday I hadn’t heard from him at all after he’d left that morning, and Thursday night he’d called me just after I’d gone to bed, but I hadn’t been asleep yet. I’d assured him then that I looked forward to our nightly talks, no matter how late or how short. I’d stayed up late tonight in case he called around the same time, but by midnight, I couldn’t keep my eyes open.

“What time is it?” I asked, my eyes still adjusting.

“Just after one.”

“Oh.”

“Are you angry?”

“No. Just tired.”

“I’m sorry, babe. Go back to sleep,” he sounded defeated.

“No. No, it’s fine. I wanna talk. I missed your voice,” I added at the end to smooth things over.

“I miss all of you,” Harry declared.

I had to admit, that smoothed it over for me. I felt bad for being a little curt with him. I wasn’t adjusting to this inconvenience very well, and I was mad at myself for it. I had to laugh.

“Why’s that funny?” Harry asked, clearly not aware of my inner thoughts.

“It’s not,” I said. “It’s absolutely adorable. But listen to how ridiculous we sound. We’re acting like we haven’t seen each other in weeks.”

“Feels like it,” Harry chuckled. “My days are running together.”

“How was it today?” I inquired.

“Good, actually. Got a lot done. One song’s nearly complete.”

“That’s great! I can’t wait to hear it.”

“Yeah, I think you’ll like it. How was yours?”

“Nothing you’d wanna hear about,” I quipped. “So are you home now?”

“Yeah, in bed. Wishing you were here.”

“Harry…”

“What? I told you I want you all the time. If I’m not working on the record, I’m thinking about you. If I am working on the record, I’m thinking about you.”

“Get out!”

Harry chuckled again, the vibrations tickling my ear and down to my toes.

“I’d ask you to come over, or I’d come to yours if I didn’t have to be at the studio early,” he added.

“Mmm, that would be nice,” I commented. “But it’s okay. I’ll get to sleep in a little.”

“Rub it in,” Harry scoffed.

“Tomorrow we can be together all night,” I reminded him.

“I can’t wait to see you, angel.”

When we ended the call, I felt much better. Harry was coming to pick me up at six. I was just as excited to see him dressed up as I was for him to see me. I just knew it was going to be a magical night.

“Playin’ with the Queen of Hearts Knowin’ it ain’t really smart The Joker ain’t the only fool Who’ll do anything for you…”

“Alright, doll,” said Kimberly, my hairdresser. “Let’s have you sit under the dryer for twenty minutes.”

As I followed her to the row of hairdryers, I hummed along to Juice Newton.

“There ya go, doll,” Kimberly called as I began to feel the heat on my scalp. “I’ll be back to check on you.”

Sitting back in the vinyl chair, I spotted a magazine on the table beside me and began to flip through it. There was a lot of nonsense I couldn’t care less about. But when I turned a page after reading a blurb on Jane Fonda, a photo of a familiar face caught my eye.

There on page twenty-six was a photo of Harry with a woman I didn’t recognize. My heart began to beat faster in my chest, and a lump caught in my throat.

“Harry Styles, 27, pictured here in June with model Mitzi Lambert at the film premiere of For Your Eyes Only,” it read, “is rumored to be working on an upcoming solo project as well as being extremely available. Though sources say he’s been seen out in L.A. recently with someone, we have yet to confirm if this is true.”

I flipped back to the cover of the tabloid to confirm the date. It had just been released. So that “someone” it referenced could have been me.

Turning back to the picture, I looked at Mitzi. She was thin, tall and glamorous. Everything I was not. She must have been that old girlfriend who knew nothing about him, although the photo suggested they were having the time of their lives.

Closing the magazine, I decided there was no need to feel jealous. He was mine now. I smiled at the thought.

Kimberly finished my hair, and I felt like a million bucks. As I stepped into my apartment, I was on cloud nine. I flipped on the stereo and sang along while I finished getting ready. Slipping my red halter dress over my head, I got tingles all over as I imagined Harry’s gaze and his hands on me later.

“Tonight’s the night we’ll make history Honey, you and I…”

I stepped into my gold shoes that matched my gold clutch handbag and stood in front of the mirror. I watched my eyes dance before I even smiled - a crystal blue color that I’d rarely seen. My makeup, applied just a bit heavier than I usually did, appeared sexy and sultry. My lipstick, the same Christmas red as my dress, made my lips look like cherries. For the final touch, I placed a gold barrette with holly on one side of my head. Then I stepped back again and giggled in the mirror.

“Our memories of yesterday will last a lifetime We’ll take the best, forget the rest And someday we’ll find… These are the best of times…”

I was so excited, I couldn’t sit still. I tried watching TV while I waited for Harry to arrive, but my mind just wanted to wander. I grabbed my guitar, but my fingers kept fumbling, as though they were frozen with ice. I paced around the apartment until it was finally six o’clock, my stomach doing somersaults. The only thing left to do was sit at the table and stare at the door.

I waited.

And waited.

By six-thirty I felt nauseous, so I dialed Harry’s number, but I got his machine. I felt partial relief, believing he was on his way. Perhaps he was caught in traffic.

Six-forty-five rolled around and I thought I might pass out. Frantic, I considered calling Halo, but I didn’t want to tie up the line.

He promised, I thought.

My mind started whirling around all of the possible scenarios, the bad and the worse. I sat still at my dining table for another ten minutes. I was just about to give up and head to the bedroom to take off my dress when the phone rang.

“Hello?” I barely made a sound, let alone accentuated the two syllables.

“Baby! Baby, I’m so sorry!” he said sincerely. “I know I was supposed to be there an hour ago.”

“What happened?” I asked, my hands shaking.

“I got caught up in a session. It ran longer than we thought it would.”

“Oh.”

“Please forgive me.”

“Okay,” I mumbled.

“Listen, I haven’t left the studio yet. And I still have to stop at Irving’s.”

“What?” I was teetering on the edge of livid.

“Yeah, he has my suit,” Harry chuckled nervously.

“Why does he have your suit?” My words sputtered out like bullets.

“Long story, babe. But he was getting things ready for me.”

“Probably should have given you a watch,” I spat.

Harry sighed. “I know. You’re mad, but I deserve it. I’m really sorry.”

“Yeah. So when will you be here?”

“Actually, babe, why don’t I meet you there? I can send a car for you. You’re already late.”

“I have my own car if I’m not going with you,” I commented.

“It’s the least I can do, baby. Please don’t be so upset with me.”

I had so many things I wanted to say - to yell at him. But I figured on the phone, when I was already hurt and late, was not the time to convey them.

“I’ll send a car to come get you, okay? Right now.”

“Okay,” I said.

“I’ll meet you at the hotel.”

“Fine.”

“Sky…”

“Hmm?” I sounded, not willing to say much else.

“It can still be a wonderful night. I promise.”

Inhaling a jagged breath, I let it out. He was right. We still had the rest of the night together.

“Okay. See you there.”

“There’s a party going on right here…”

The car that Harry had sent for me had dropped me off almost thirty minutes ago. Donna and Joel had pulled me out of my seat and dragged me to the dance floor. I was not in the party spirit. I’d stopped watching the door, but I wasn’t in the mood for dancing. I just wanted to go home.

“Smile, Mary!” exclaimed Donna. “He said he’d be here, right?”

I nodded, managing a tiny smirk. I hadn’t wanted to tell my friend the whole story, so I’d just told her Harry was running late and would be there soon. I figured it was best to at least act like I was having a good time, so when the Kool and the Gang track prompted everyone to “woo hoo”, I lifted my arms in the air. By the end of the song, I felt a tiny bit better.

“I wonder what’s going on,” I heard Donna say when the next song started.

“Where?” I asked.

“Over by the door. There’s a bunch of people crowded around.”

Almost like Moses parting the red sea, the group of people near the door dispersed, revealing the cause for commotion. I stood frozen on the dance floor, my knees locked.

He looked breathtaking.

I watched him for a minute or two, waving and shaking hands with strangers - my coworkers. He was dressed all in black except for the single red carnation pinned to his lapel.

“Holy shit, isn’t that the singer from Wildfire?” I heard Joel ask.

“Really?” squealed Donna. “What’s he doing here? Is he staying in this hotel?”

“Didn’t that band break up?” Joel interjected.

“Mary’s the music fan,” said Donna. “She probably knows. Mary?”

I heard my coworker’s inquiry, but she might as well have been in another room. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. And when he weaved through a few more people and stepped closer to the dance floor, his eyes finally found mine. Stopping three feet in front of me, he clapped his hand over his chest.

“Be still my heart,” he murmured, his lips mouthing the words more than actually voicing them.

My own lips slowly spread into a smile as he took another step and grabbed my hands.

“My God, baby…” he shook his head. “You look absolutely stunning.”

“Do I?” I tilted my head.

Harry chuckled. “Yeah, you do.”

Slipping his arms around me, he pulled me to him.

“Am I allowed to kiss you?” he inquired in a whisper.

“Why wouldn’t you?”

Harry shrugged. “Seeing as this is a business affair. I wouldn’t wanna be improper.”

I grinned at him and shook my head. “Stop saying words that show off your accent and kiss me.”

I hadn’t been aware of anyone else around us until our lips met and I heard a howl. Harry lifted his head, his expression halfway between embarrassed and baffled. My face, I was sure, matched my dress.

“Sorry,” Harry smirked, not missing a beat. “I swear I asked her first.”

The crowd erupted into both laughter and claps. I rested my forehead against his shoulder until I heard the deejay announce the next song was for “lovers only.”

“Perfect timing,” Harry whispered in my ear.

I hardly had a second to question him with my eyes when the familiar words started.

“My love, there’s only you in my life…”

“Oh God, this song…” I groaned.

“You don’t like it?” asked Harry as he took my hand and led me into a dance.

“No, I do…” I nodded. “It just…makes me feel a lot of things.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

“Like…”

“And your eyes, your eyes, your eyes They tell me how much you care…”

Harry mouthed the words as he stared into my eyes, then lifted his hand to cup my cheek.

“Yeah, like that,” I confessed, already feeling my eyes getting wet. “It just gets to me.”

“Music’s supposed to do that. Isn’t that one of the first things we ever talked about?”

I nodded, unable to say anything else. I could feel myself swimming in his eyes, and I knew that if I dared to move, I could drown.

“‘Cause you, you mean the world to me…”

Harry continued to serenade me as we swayed on the dance floor. My eyes still locked on him, I felt myself falling even more.

“Jesus, baby,” he sighed. “You’re so fucking pretty.”

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“Your eyes are like diamonds,” he added, sliding his fingers down my cheek.

I grinned. “You’re really making up for being late, aren’t you?”

“What?” Harry furrowed his brows. “No. I’m not trying to make up for anything. I’m being honest.”

“Okay. You’re right. That was unfair of me to say.”

“You get very suspicious when I’m trying to be romantic,” Harry accused. “Why is that?”

“I’m not, Harry,” I shook my head. “I’m sorry. I ruined the moment. Let’s forget it.”

Harry continued to glare at me until I slid my hands up his chest and wrapped my arms around his neck. His face softened, and he pulled me tighter. I laid my head on his shoulder while he returned to singing along with Lionel and Diana. I sang along too towards the end.

“‘Cause no one can deny This love I have inside And I’ll give it all to you”

I lifted my head then to look at him again, his green eyes silently confessing to mine as his lips mouthed the words.

“My love, my love, my love My endless love…”

I thought he might kiss me again, but the deejay came back on the microphone, interrupting the moment.

“Alright! Love is in the air this holiday season! A big thanks to Harry for that special request. Now, let’s get things moving with this request from Sasha. Shake your groove thang, Sasha!”

The dance floor filled with more people as I stood and stared at Harry. Then with a turn, I weaved through people to get to the buffet.

“Baby?” Harry called after me. When he caught up to me, he grabbed my arm. “Sky. What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” I said. “Just needed some air. It got crowded fast.”

“Sky…”

“Have you eaten?” I asked, turning back to the buffet and grabbing a plate. “I nibbled a little earlier, but now I’m starved.”

“Sky!” Harry exclaimed. “Stop it. Why do you keep doing this?”

“Doing what?”

“Avoiding the obvious.”

“There she is!” I heard to my left. “Why didn’t you tell me your Harry was a rockstar?”

I grinned at Donna shyly, setting down my empty plate.

“Sorry," I said. “I guess I didn’t wanna make it a big deal.”

Donna scoffed. “Kinda late for that. He walked in and swept you off your feet. I thought I was watching some romance movie.”

I giggled and slid my hand hesitantly around Harry’s arm, hoping he wasn’t too upset with me. But when I looked up at him, he beamed down at me.

“Harry, this is my friend, Donna. Donna, this is…my boyfriend, Harry.”

I watched Donna exchange nervous greetings with Harry, which only made me smile wider. Once again, Harry was ever the gentleman, making my friend feel special. He asked her about her job and how we became friends. It was a little awkward, but pleasant just the same.

“Well, I won’t bother you anymore, but feel free to join us at our table once you get your food.”

“Where’s Joel?” I asked, noticing he was nowhere near.

“Dancing with Sasha,” Donna pointed to the dance floor. “I wanted to sit this one out. In fact, I may sit out the rest of the evening.”

“Oh,” I chuckled.

“Lovely to meet you, Donna,” said Harry.

“You too, Harry,” she smiled. Then she pointed at me. “You I will have words with later.”

“Oops,” I laughed as she walked away.

I felt Harry’s hand on my back then. I looked at him and noticed he was inspecting the food.

“I am pretty hungry, actually,” he commented, rubbing his belly. “Haven’t eaten all day.”

“Harry Styles,” I shook my head, handing him a plate. “You can’t be an entertainer if you don’t keep your strength.”

“Yes, love.”

“Ooh, they have shrimp!” I announced, helping my plate to some.

I watched Harry out of the corner of my eye as he scooped some vegetables onto his own plate.

“You know, you look incredibly sexy,” I blurted. “Sorry I didn’t mention it before.”

Harry smirked. “Not as sexy as you. Can’t wait to get you out of that dress later.”

With a look, I grabbed the big spoon and scooped more vegetables onto his plate.

“Strength, Harry, strength!”

Harry cackled like a kid, making me smile so big my cheeks hurt.

“You two seem meant for each other,” said a woman who had just walked up to the buffet.

“You think so?” Harry asked her.

“Oh, yes. I was watching you while you were dancing. You looked like the perfect couple. And here you are laughing with each other…that’s so important in a relationship, you know.”

I beamed at Harry. “Yeah, we laugh a lot.”

“That’s wonderful. I hope you don’t mind my asking, how did you meet?”

Harry and I looked at each other, then back at the woman.

“Um…we actually met years ago,” Harry replied.

“Yeah, then he went away…” I added.

“Oh! A reunion story!” exclaimed the woman. “How wonderful.”

“Yeah,” Harry grinned.

“Well, that’s when you know it’s true love, don’t you? Something in the stars,” said the woman. “It was meant to be, for sure.”

Harry and I stole another glance at each other, and Harry winked at me.

“Well, I won’t keep you,” added the woman, giving Harry a pat on the arm. “I’m Delores Blake by the way. Charlie’s wife.”

“Nice to meet you,” Harry and I said in unison.

“Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

When Delores left, her plate barely half full, I gasped.

“What?” asked Harry.

“That was my boss’s wife,” I cringed. “I didn’t even know.”

“Have you met her before?”

“Maybe?” I shrugged. “I have no idea. I was pretty drunk at the last party.”

Harry chuckled. “Don’t worry, love. She definitely thinks highly of you now.”

“Thanks to you, Mr. Romantic.”

I felt Harry’s eyes on me as I finished filling my plate. Donna was thrilled when we joined her at her table, and I introduced Harry to Joel. He was a nice enough guy, and it seemed that Donna had warmed up to him as well.

We had a lovely evening. Harry and I danced a few more dances, some slow, some fast, even a Christmas song or two. Several more people came up to him as the night grew on and they felt more comfortable - meaning they probably had taken some liquid courage. Harry took it all in stride. I actually enjoyed watching him. He taught me a bit about myself and how I approach and talk to people. He always looked them in the eye, whomever was speaking to him, and listened intently. I wondered if that was something that came natural to him, or if it was taught. He was never cocky or arrogant, like the rockstar stereotype. And some of my coworkers I knew better than others came to me to whisper how nice he was, and that they were happy for me.

By the end of the night, and after a few glasses of wine, I was feeling good. I was happy. I’d pretty much forgotten about Harry being late. We, along with Donna and Joel, were some of the last people remaining.

“Hey you two, we’re gonna head out,” announced Donna.

“Oh, okay,” I said.

“We’ll walk out with you,” offered Harry.

“That’s nice of you,” said Donna. “But you can stay.”

“No, we’re leaving too,” Harry insisted.

“We are?”

Harry slipped his hand around my back, his rings touching my bare skin, and I jumped out of my chair.

In the lobby, I turned to Donna while Joel and Harry were out of earshot.

“Did you change your mind about him?” I asked.

She merely shrugged.

“I don’t judge,” I said.

“I know,” she smiled. Then she leaned closer to me and whispered, “Keep this one though. He is mad about you.”

I looked at her, wanting to ask questions, but I felt Harry’s hand on my back again.

“I can tell!” Donna mouthed before she turned toward Joel who held the door open.

“Have a good night!” she called with a wave. “Nice meeting you, Harry! See you Monday, Mary!”

As she walked outside with Joel, I heard her say, “Harry and Mary. That’s so cute!”

Harry’s chuckle in my ear made me turn and look up at him.

“I sometimes forget that other people call you Mary. It’s so strange to me.”

“It’s my real name,” I scoffed.

“Nope,” he said, taking my face in his hands. “It might be your given name. But your real true name is Sky.”

“‘Like the color of the sky just before the rain,’” I quoted.

“Not tonight though,” Harry shook his head. “Tonight…I swear they look like diamonds.”

I smiled as I took his hands in mine.

“You ready to go?” I asked him.

Harry seemed to ponder my question, his eyes darting around the lobby.

“Mmm…not yet. I have a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?” I asked.

Harry nodded. “Come with me.”

With a sly grin, he took my hand and guided me past the large Christmas tree and toward the elevators. I gasped when he pressed the up button.

“You got a room?” I exclaimed. “Here?”

As soon as the lift doors opened, Harry pulled me inside. I felt my stomach flip as we ascended, and not from the elevator. I looked up at Harry as he brushed my hair back from my shoulder, his touch sending a shooting thrill down my skin.

The look in his eyes was the same as the one on the dance floor. His lips twitched and he licked them as though he was about to say something, but he didn’t.

I wasn’t sure which floor the elevator opened on as I hadn’t been paying attention. But with my hand still in Harry’s, I followed him down to the end of the hall where he stopped and pulled a key out of his jacket.

A loud gasp escaped my throat again when Harry opened the door.

“Merry Christmas, baby,” he said.

Songs mentioned:

Juice Newton - Queen of Hearts

Styx - The Best of Times

Kool and the Gang - Celebration

Lionel Richie & Diana Ross - Endless Love

Taglist: @fkinavocado, @daphnesutton, @freedomfireflies

MASTERLIST | KO-FI | FEEDBACK

[maccreadysbaby]

Project: Killcode

batfamily + oc insert

tw: vague emeto

wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!

want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!

heyo! b’s still here! and so are all the inconvenient things in his life, like tall blondes, jealous rich boys and diabetes!

part twenty-four

❝ SAVAGE ❞

TUESDAY — JULY 24 — 4:10PM

“BENTLEY, IT'S TIME TO GO,”

Bentley peeled his eyes open, blinking rapidly in an attempt to bat away the foggy fatigue that had been taking up residence in his brain for the entire school day. Varian was sitting in the chair next to him at their two-person desk, watching with wary brown eyes.

Bentley glanced up, cataloging the US History classroom. Students were filing out, and Dr. Ray was sitting at his desk on his phone, looking pretty disinterested, like always. Bentley blinked a few more times to right himself, lifting his head from the desk and rubbing his eyes.

“He saw you, but I guess he didn’t mind to let you sleep,” Varian replied with a shrug. “You definitely need it. I can give you the notes later.”

Bentley stretched slightly, grabbing his bag off the floor. “Thanks, Varian.”

“Hey, no problem. I’ve had my share of long nights. Especially with this,” He tapped the insulin pump on his arm. 

Bentley didn’t really know what to say to that, so he didn’t. Instead, he stood up and threw his bag over his shoulder.

He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, really — but after staying up until one a.m. in the living area with his roommates and then waking up from the most horrifying nightmare he’d ever had at three (and not going back to bed after), he was pretty much running on empty. He’d fallen asleep in art, too, and his teacher smacked his table with a yardstick.

Varian was doing much better than he was, which was surprising, considering he’d stayed up just as late and then insisted on being up with Bentley after the nightmare instead of going back to bed. He tried to brush him off and tell him he needed to get sleep, too, but Varian didn’t care. Which was kind of nice, he guessed. He got someone to talk to and Asten got to go back to bed. (After arguing about it for, like, an hour.)

So all in all, Bentley was very tired, and he had a lot of notes he needed to copy after he and Koa practiced for soccer tryouts. (Yay?)

For right now, his main goal would be making it to his dorm without falling asleep standing.

“Have a good day, Dr. Ray,” Varian called as the two of them made their way through the classroom door and into the hall. They were the last ones out — even Layla had gone and disappeared before them.

Bentley sighed lightly as they walked, tugging his back further up on his shoulder. 

“Y’know, I’m practicing with Koa too today, if you want to rest. He won’t be alone,” Varian said lightly, and Bentley felt his eyes on him from his spot to his left. “The only reason I missed yesterday was because the decathlon team had a meeting. From now on they meet during free period instead of after school, so I’ll be able to practice.”

Bentley hummed. Not having to run around for three hours kicking a ball sounded heavenly right about then, but he also didn’t want to leave Koa out to dry. They just started practicing yesterday, he couldn’t bail yet.

“I think I’ll go. Might wake me up some,” He suggested, and Varian smiled faintly.

“In that case, I can’t wait to see your moves,” Varian said with a smirk. “Koa talked all about how you were a natural yesterday. Even better than I was when I started, according to him.”

Bentley made a pfft sound. “I highly doubt that. I’ve never played a sport in my life.”

“Neither had I, when I started,” There was a sudden trio of beeps from Varian’s insulin pump, and Bentley glanced over at him as he slid his arm out of his blazer and checked the little screen. “Ah. I knew I was starting to feel a little like death.”

Bentley blinked as Varian slid his blazer back on. “You gonna be okay?”

He shrugged. “I’ve been worse. The walk back to the dorm shouldn’t be too bad. It really only feels like the flu — if you were, like, about to die from it. I didn’t eat much at lunch trying to keep the number stable but… now it’s kinda dive-bombing.”

“That doesn’t sound ‘not too bad’ to me,” Bentley muttered as they made a left at the next hall, toward the entrance of the building.

“Nah. I’d tell you if I was about to, like, barf or pass out or something. Luckily we’re not there yet,” Varian replied with another shrug.

“Hey, Wayne!”

Bentley and Varian both pivoted on their heels when a fluttery falsetto called out from behind them. Unsurprisingly, a familiar blonde that made Bentley cringe was coming to meet them from an adjacent hall.

Varian blinked twice, and Bentley saw the willpower it took not to roll his eyes as Chloe Singh caught up with them in the hallway. Her blonde hair was pin-straight today, reaching nearly to her waistline. She was wearing sparkly gold eyeliner that made her brown eyes pop, and had on a Redwood Academy sweater vest with her skirt instead of the typical blazer.

“… Hey,” Bentley replied, sharing a quick glance with Varian. Chloe came up to rest on his right side, falling into step with them. (No matter how fast they kept walking, she stayed right there next to them.)

“Hey there,” She smiled when she reached them, and Bentley wondered if she brushed her teeth with bleach, as white as they were. “I have a question for you.”

“Me?” Bentley inhaled sharply (and thankfully, softly.) “Okay?”

“Since I’m rich, and you’re rich, and I’m hot, and you’re hot, I think we should go to the dance together,” She said, turning to go through the glass front doors of the building. Bentley and Varian quickly joined her, the warm air all but knocking into them. It blew Chloe’s hair behind her shoulders, and it was so long it hit Bentley in the face.

“That wasn’t a question,” He replied curtly, swatting her hair away from him and continuing to walk up the sidewalk next to Varian. The sky was gray instead of blue, and storm clouds were threatening to drop rain on them at any moment. Sidewalks and endless green grasses were laid out before them, their building visible but far off past a sea of students. Chloe kept up with them begrudgingly well.

“Well, I didn’t assume I actually needed to ask you,” She replied with a funny sounding giggle. “I mean, who’d pass up going to a dance with someone as hot as me?” She questioned, her expression serious as ever as she ran a hand through her hair and glanced over at Bentley with big doe eyes. “So?”

Bentley sent a glance to Varian, who was watching the cracks in the sidewalk pass and offering zero help.

“Someone actually already asked me,” He replied shortly, with a shrug. (And honestly, thanks to Summer.) “So, no.”

He didn’t miss the way Chloe’s expression shifted, and she scoffed, falling a step behind before she caught up with them again. “Are you kidding? Who?”

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” He replied, glancing up at her. A tinge of regret stabbed through his chest at the expression that rippled across her face — something almost like hurt, masked haphazardly by feigned offense.

“Jesus, who pissed in your cereal this morning?” She questioned with the shake of her head. “I’d at least like to know the name of the lucky girl who got to you before I did.”

Bentley only glared over at her, but instead of looking upset, a smile started to tug at the edges of her mouth. “Oh… I see what’s going on here. You’re lying because you don’t want to go with me.”

“No, I’m not,” He replied. He saw Varian glance at him from the corner of his eye, a strange expression crossing his features. “Someone else asked me already.”

“And did you say yes?”

Bentley hesitated on that one, much to his demise. (No, he hadn’t said yes to Summer, but if he told Chloe he had, then she’d expect them to show up together, when really, neither of them were going at all. But if he told her he said no, she’d keep shooting and keep shooting until the backboard fell off.)

“See? You’re lying,” Chloe said, her cocky grin curving into a frown accompanied by angry, fiery eyes. “Who would you rather go with, Layla? Am I not ugly enough for you?”

Bentley heard their heartbeats when a sudden wave of anger came about him. He inhaled and glanced over at her, brown on brown eyes meeting, each with a different kind of fire. “I’d rather go with someone who isn’t a jerk.”

For a moment, he and Chloe shared tense eye contact, and she scoffed again. “Bentley-“

“Look, Chloe,” He started, pausing in his stride and turning to face her directly. She paused, too, uncomfortably close to him, resting her hands on her hips. “I had a really bad night, I’m having a mediocre day, and I feel kind of like shit. Yes, someone asked me, but I didn’t plan on going anyways. And even if I was going, it wouldn’t be with a girl like you,” He snapped with a curt huff. “So can you just… go away?”

Chloe opened and closed her mouth a few times to no avail. Then, with a noise that was supposed to be a scoff but sounded more like a squeak, she huffed and walked off without them at a breakneck pace.

Varian made a sound akin to a snicker. “Remind me not to cross you when you haven’t slept.”

Bentley exhaled heavily with a shake of his head, starting back to a steady stride across the campus. “I don’t like her. She makes me uncomfortable.”

“Oddly enough, lots of guys are into that kind of thing. Her kind of, y’know… way of… getting into your space and trying to sell her hotness to you,” Varian replied with a shrug as he started walking again. “Dunno why. Also I think I might throw up.”

The switch in conversation was so quick Bentley’s wheels had to turn for a solid five seconds before he turned to him with a: “What?”

“My BS. It’s going down more. Dive-bomb, remember?” Varian replied, making an ick face and slowing to a stop. (He looked very suddenly unwell, which was kind of freaking Bentley out, because he hadn’t looked that way two minutes ago.) “Starting to feel like falling over dead. M’ kinda dizzy.”

“I… don’t think I have any food on me,” Bentley replied with an exhale, slowing to a stop again. “I can call Asten and have him bring something. Do you want to sit down?”

He half expected Varian to disagree and tough out the walk, but instead, he just said: “That’d probably be good.”

Bentley pulled his phone out of his pocket and navigated to Asten’s name, watching Varian excruciatingly closely as he gingerly sat himself down on the sidewalk. His phone only rang once before he picked up with a: “Hey.”

“Hey,” Bentley replied, kneeling down ahead of Varian. “Are you close to the room? Varian’s blood sugar is tanking and he needs something. Me and him are on the sidewalk close to the history building.”

A few seconds of quiet passed. “Yeah, I’m pretty close. What’s the number?”

Bentley glanced over at Varian, who, upon hearing Asten, worked the little machine out of his sleeve again. Bentley glanced at the little screen. “Forty-seven.”

He heard Asten inhale. “Jesus, okay, you weren’t kidding when you said it was tanking. How is he even conscious right now? Nevermind, I’m coming. Just hang tight for a few.”

“Okay,” Bentley replied, and a few silent seconds later, the call ended.

He glanced back over at Varian, who was sitting on the ground, looking sort of dazed. He had his legs criss-crossed and his elbows resting on them, with his head dipped down into his hands.

Bentley sat down on the sidewalk, too. “You okay?”

“Hanging in there,” He replied with a faint shrug. “Did… someone actually ask you to the dance?”

Bentley shrugged, too. “Kinda. Not really. Summer heard that Chloe was going to ask me and asked me first, just so I could tell her I was already asked. But we didn’t actually want to go with each other.”

Varian nodded in understanding, though didn’t lift his head. “Who do you want to go with, then?”

“No one. I don’t think I’m going at all,” Bentley replied with a shrug. “Are you?”

“I don’t know yet. I’m… having a hard time focusing on what you’re saying,” Varian replied with a shake of his head. Then he muttered to himself: “Bozhe, mne seychas tak plokho.” (God, I feel so bad right now.)

Bentley wasn’t sure what he said, but he did know that Asten only spoke Portuguese when he was really mad or really scared or in so much pain it just sort of happened. So he assumed Varian speaking Russian wasn’t a good thing. 

“Asten will be here in just a minute,” Bentley tried, glancing up at the sidewalks as if Asten would suddenly appear there. “Are you doing okay?”

“Nauseous. And I only understood, like, half of what you said,” 

Bentley said nothing, but brought a hand up to rest on his shoulder. (Varian had mentioned he wasn’t very good at keeping his blood sugar at a safe level, but Bentley didn’t realize that meant he’d have a dangerous low, like, every day.)

(…At least he hadn’t fainted like he had on Koa the day before. Bentley wasn’t sure he could handle much more fainting.)

“Wow, what’s the matter, soccer players gotta take a breather on the way back to their room?”

Bentley huffed out an extravagantly loud breath, flicking his gaze up to the boy that was approaching on the sidewalk that was very not Asten.

Tyler seemed to already be on his way to the fields, because he was wearing cleats and workout clothes instead of his uniform. He was looking at Bentley and Varian like he was some sort of deity and their entire existence was a mistake.

Bentley did a good job at ignoring him as he walked by, keeping his attention on Varian, who kept looking more and more out of it. It kinda seemed like he was about to faint, which would not be good in the slightest. But to Bentley’s surprise, he didn’t.

He just threw up all over the sidewalk instead.

Bentley hid his grimace and squeezed his shoulder in silent support.

“Ugh, Jesus,” Tyler called from ahead of them. “Your dorm catch the plague already?”

Bentley glanced up at him, taking a breath. Tyler’s stupid hair was sticking up all stupid on his head, looking like he took twenty minutes to make it just messy enough to practice in, and everything from his jersey to his cleats were squeaky clean. His eyebrows were resting on his forehead as he waited for an answer; an expression that made it very appealing to, like, punch him in the face or something. (Seriously, Varian was, like, sick, and that’s what he said? Whatever happened to natural human decency?)

Bentley huffed. “No, he’s just allergic to assholes — so you should probably keep walking.” 

Tyler, with a deadpan face, flipped Bentley off. “You’re a little shithead, you know that?”

“I’ve been told,” Bentley replied with a faint smile. “Bye.”

Tyler turned with a dramatic huff and walked away, flipping him off one more time for good measure.

“We should disturb your sleep more often. You’re being… quite the savage,” Varian muttered with a snicker, wiping his mouth on his blazer sleeve. “I also have a sneaking suspicion I won’t be practicing today. Dr. Koa is going to murder me.”

Bentley, with a sigh, patted Varian’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’ll pick up your slack.”

“That’s a lot of slack to pick up,” Varian said with a faint smile, glancing back up at him with dull eyes. “I’m pretty good at standing on the field and pretending I know how to play.”

Bentley snickered lightly, and patted his shoulder again.

(Varian did not practice that day.)

--

tag list that never works lmao

@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @gayboss-too-close-to-the-sun

@xiaonothere

@skylathescholarly @flyrobinflyy

[gothushi]

gosh your fic (which i LOVED btw) has my mind whirling with all the possibilities of pegging the other boys. luke and simon are a given, obviously, that’s just another tuesday for them, in fact they both wear signs that say “please peg me!!” at all times, but imagine hook or charlie or nikolai? i think all three of them would try to act so tough and unbothered, but the second the action starts suddenly you should’ve soundproofed the walls. ernst? oh my i don’t think he’d even know what to do with himself, he’d be so overwhelmed and nervous, but once you actually start his brain would turn to absolute mush; his tongue rolling out of his mouth with his eyes rolled back. father anthony? oh my lord (harhar)….talk about ruining that man for forever. i genuinely think it would alter (harhar) his brain chemistry. sex in general is probably so overwhelming for him considering how long he’s abstained, so i can’t imagine how mind breaking it would be to be on the receiving end of so much pleasure. seb? i think he’d be so intimidated and hesitant to the idea at first, but he’d quickly loose his absolute mind once things get going. slurring his words, drooling into the pillow.

if we really wanna get into luke and simon though, i think they’re both similar in the sense that in the beginning they’d be really hesitant to the idea of anything inside them. there’s just *no way* they’d like that, i mean….who do you think they are? they like to fuck, not be fucked! but obviously they become absolute sluts to their prostates being played with very quickly. i can just imagine simon begging for u and brendan to put it in at the same time because “i can take it!! i swear i can!! come on….please, please?”

okay luke and simon hard agree fully. especially with simon wanting u and brendan to fuck him at the same time. he’s whining he can take it, he’ll make it fit please he wants both of ur cocks so bad … brendan’s gotta slap him to make him shut up. they both loooove prostate massages, it makes lukes mind melt and he shakes all over until he cums from it, and then he’s all pliant and relaxed, his sore muscles all tired. simon likes when u make him stand, bent over something, and u watch as his legs shake and tremble and he almost falls everytime. he loves u humiliating him.

hook and charlie are the ones who would take like … the longest to convince. even longer than it did with rob. they’re both a bit reserved there like… no i’m in charge? but u’ve just got the cutest puppy eyes and they’re never able to say no to u, at all, no matter what. they’re similar to rob in the sense that they stretch out and let u do ur thing, telling u to be careful, gentle, and they’re pretty calm at first because it doesn’t hurt but it just feels.. odd. yk? but once u’ve got enough lube and u find that little spot, the arousal in his body spikes ten fold and color fills his cheeks. safe to safe they enjoy it and will want to do it again

i think nikolai is more open to the idea, but he wants to be in charge. i see nikolai as probably the least likely to want to be submissive, so he will let u fuck him, but he wants to ride u. growls and groans about ur cock, how deep it reaches, how good it feels, cooing at ur good ideas and asking if u like watching him ride u. ur a mess by the end of it all

ernst is obviously the most likely to enjoy it all. he’s embarrassed at first like.. no that’s dirty! that’s embarrassing! ur not supposed to touch there! but it doesn’t take long with u batting ur eyes and palming over his cock to convince him. ernst is definitely also the one who falls apart the most. he’s practically screaming, his legs kicking, eyes lidded, rolling back, crossing, he’s drooling and panting like an overactive dog, and his cocks making even more of a mess than his mouth

i think before pegging father anthony he’d need to be worked up to it a lot. and slowly. i can picture one night ur just working on stretching him some more, ur up to two fingers, all slick with lube and spit. ur tongues laving over his balls to soothe and distract, heavy moans falling from his lips. ur fingers curl and ughhtht he just falls apart. obscene, pornography worthy moans are sounding from him, head craned back, hands gripping the duvet. it’s so unbelievably intimate for him, and he didn’t know he could feel this good ever. he probably cries, and u nearly stop until he’s gasping ‘my angel, oh, keep going, please’

seb’s another one kinda close to ernst in the way he’d react. he’d be pretty open to the idea for the most part but would take a while to work up to actually executing the idea. once u’ve got started he rivals a woman in a porno. moaning loud, making his throat hoarse, getting himself fucked into the mattress probably surrounded by ur plushies

[rothjuje]

Thank you guys for all the bedroom setup advice!! Someone pointed out how heavy a tub full of water is, so maybe bunk beds would be fine. Several people mentioned that Gen will want a full eventually too which honestly I hadn’t considered. She’s such a tiny peanut it’s hard for me to picture her in a big bed. Alyssa and George have always been giants, they take after my side of the family while Gen takes after Justin’s. I like the lofted bed idea but only saw a twin option, I’m sure there’s a full option. We’re going to a furniture store this weekend to look around.

Such a weird week with the kids not having school Tuesday. Normally days off are chaotic and crazy but the kids were all in a great mood, we had a slow morning and then played outside the rest of the day (thank Gd for rain suits).

Being able to go outside again is such a parenting game changer. So, so, so thankful it’s above 40 degrees and staying light until 5:45 now. We played outside from 3:30-5:30 this afternoon and everyone came in tired and happy, we had a peaceful dinner and bedtime and everyone fell asleep quickly.

We registered Gen for MWF next year (instead of T/Th). Mainly so I could get more done/potentially focus on a career, but also because it’s been so good for her. But something I didn’t realize until after we signed her up was Justin gets every other Friday off…so we can have day dates twice a month. We have had exactly three dates outside the house since we moved here (I remember them well.. a movie, out for drinks, and a cemetery walk). I think it will be so, so good for our relationship. Especially since life has been absolute chaos since we moved here 20 months ago (fixing up the house, adjusting to life across the country, but also so many freak medical things/minor surgeries and one major one).

I am doing all the things right to manage my ADHD (sleeping enough, eating well, daily exercise) and it helps but definitely is not a cure. There was a moment last year when George started sleeping through the night and it was my first time sleeping through the night in 4 years so I thought my ADHD was cured just because I had energy again…so naive. I took a wellness class at a yoga studio a couple nights ago and we had to sit down on mats and listen quietly. And the room was quiet. Everyone seemed so quiet and relaxed, just sitting still. And listening. I tried to listen and tried to stay still but I am a leg shaker. My brain was zipping around in so many different directions. I just cannot think in a straight line unless I am physically moving. I didn’t even realize how bad it was honestly until I saw everyone else be so normal and calm. Yikes..

[gothicwidowsworld]

Don’t fuck it you muppet L.N

“I’m scared…” the man admitted, ashamed, his declaration lacked his usual cocky confidence but it was pure honesty. “I’m scared I’m going to fuck up.” The man spoke again, still uncertain but gaining courage. 

“Your Uncle Carlos told me to not fuck it up…. “Don’t fuck it you muppet.”” Lando laughed quietly at his awful attempt at the Spaniards accent, “Although I probably shouldn’t use that sort of language around you. Your Mummy would have my head.” Lando added teasingly, his denby azure eyes settling on the woman in question. Even after all these years just looking at Y/N made his heart flutter. She was wearing an extremely old Carlin team t-shirt, she looked so natural and at ease. A Goddess among mortals honestly. Even now he didn’t understand how he got so lucky with her, they’d met in the Karting World years before, back when Y/N towered over Lando and regularly showed the Tanned Brit what losing felt like. She’d been loud and mouthy in a lovable sort of way, even giving Oliver a run for his money at times. 

The soft chatter stopped abruptly as the y/h/c young woman shuffled & shifted, the mid January sunbeams that had managed to break its way through the cracks in the curtains trying to desperately ease the woman out of her much needed slumber. “Norris close the curtains.” the y/h/c woman mumbled gently, snuggling deeper into the pillow, swatting at the man’s usual position beside her, blindly hoping the driver heard her and took pity on her utterly shattered body. The rough start to motherhood was still taking its toll on Y/N, despite the long nights the young couple had spent pouring over parenting advice books, the parenting courses, the inner circle of family support the y/h/c young woman was still wiped out. 

The golden rays of sun refused to let y/n return to slumber. Perhaps a subtle message to not miss out on this small moment, fighting the urge to close her eyes Y/N turned to face the man. But instead her y/e/c orbs focused in on a sight that she’d only been able to dream of in the past couple of months, it felt like she’d waited a lifetime to witness this moment and it was just a random Tuesday morning. Lando resting against the headboard, donning mismatching socks and joggers, tanned chest on full display cradling the small life they’d managed to create. In that moment the failed five year plan, horrendous morning sickness, 17 hour labour and general pregnancy blues seemed so worth it. “Morning.” Lando whispered a reddish blush filling his cheeks at the prospect of being caught singing the anthem to his anxieties aloud. But even then the Brit couldn’t help small twitches of his upper lip as he tried to bite back a content dopey grin. Slowly Lando raised the hand that wasn’t holding newborn close, reaching out to brush the strand of y/h/c hair that had managed to escape from Y/N’s now messy ponytail out of her face. 

“Did I miss her crying?” The y/h/c woman asked concern lacing her tired voice, trying to sit up despite the lingering post-labour pain. Shaking his head Lando replied reassuringly, his voice soft and low trying not to disturb the sleeping new born, “No no I was just up early.” 

‘How are you feeling?’ Y/N could hear the apprehensive concern partnered with his words, Lando had watched all night, an undeniable sense of guilt hitting him each time Y/N winced in her sleep, the y/s/c woman still unable to find any comfort. There wasn’t much the Driver could do, but that didn’t ease the guilt that he had caused Y/N this pain. 

“Honestly I’ve been better.” Y/N admitted bashfully. In fact Y/N was sure she could have been hit by a lorry and still felt more refreshed than she did right now. But watching a domestic new dad Lando made it more bearable. The pain and postpartum bleeding was temporary but her growing little family with Lando was forever. 

A/N it’s shit, I know it’s shit but this idea has been bugging my brain for the past few days and i’m like super sick so this is written half delirious, on pain medication whilst binge listening to The 1975... so yeah