#Mirror bangle

[yuvan123]

Mirror Oxidised Bangle

Broad Oxidised Bangle

With mirror work

With beads & stone work

Ideal for festive/wedding occasions

This oxidised broad kara will give a fashion statement on every special occasions!

[bmpmp3]

last night i had a dream i had a hysterectomy (something i want) and to commemorate after healing i got my ears pierced (also something i want) but specifically i got an extra piercing on one ear near the top with the intention of putting triangle shaped earrings in it to bring to mind the ear notches of TNR feral cats. i had a dream i fulfilled my true desire of being spayed.

[cranberrydietcoke]

euphoria - r.c

ex bf ! rafe cameron x kook princess ! reader

content: 18+, drinking & drug use, drunk/high sex, degrading names (slut, whore, bitch), on camera type shit, kinda public party sex, my y/ns are always cream team soz, kinda dubcon ig, he makes her say ily, creampie. def giving s1 fratboy rafe. non-descriptive except for tanned skin n u curl ur hair!

a/n: first rafe fic eeeep! many more to come tho i deadass have feelings for him it’s a problem. & thx u for the luv on my last two fics !! preesh u bad bitches

wc: 3k

your fingers intertwined with sutton’s as she pulled you along, splitting the tight crowd of snapbacks and miniskirts. smoke hung over the purple atmosphere as some future song boomed from the speakers. you greeted each spinning face you slid by with a slurred sorry baby! or scuse’ me!

“bitch nooo, come the fuck onnnnn,” she pleaded, jerking you away from the random man you were offering your vape to.

“later okay! come smoke w’me!” you yelled back at him, trying to communicate with charades as sutton pulled you deeper into the heart of the party. he was cute, but you knew you wouldn’t see him later, considering rafe was about twenty feet away slicing lines on the kitchen counter. the baby pink polo hugged his bicep as he bent over, rolled dollar bill tight between his fingers.

fuck. i miss that platinum card.

a few months ago, you and rafe  were the it couple of kildare, without question. luxury vacations, designer swimwear, a mercedes for christmas, days in the yacht. it was like kim and fucking kanye. even more so now. a breakup had never lasted more than a few hours, usually ending with you both getting high and rafe fucking an ‘im sorry’ out of you. but this time, you were actually done with his shit, done having a screaming match every day, done apologizing all the time just so he wouldn’t blow up. sure, it was sad at first. but when it was posted on figure8insider, you had finally reached the last stage of grief: acceptance.

“like why do they even fucking care?” you barked, scrunching a warm, fresh curl in your hand. “how do they even know? shit’s like tmz.” spinning in your satin vanity chair, you turned to face your friend before sashaying to your closet.

“they act like we’re soooo a-list. i’m with your ass every day, you are NOT that interesting,” sutton chuckled, adjusting the strap of her top and checking herself out in the mirror. with topper’s parents away in the virgin islands, his annual end-of-summer banger was everybody’s move for the night, and you were certain rafe was gonna be there.  

“right?” you blew clouds of strawberry pound cake as you rummaged through hangers, “like, i’m not an influencer.”

it came out like a lie, and in a way, it was. you were the sweetheart of the island’s restless and entitled youth, their very own people’s princess. your strapless black dress could only be worn after sundown, barely covering the lower curve of your ass, delicate pink ribbons holding together the cutout of your cleavage. a stack of expensive gold bangles chimed together as you stuffed all your shit into your purse, slammed another shooter, and dialed reagan for a ride.

“you know rafe’s gonna be there, right?” she asked, turning the music down and casting a glance at you from the driver’s seat. you suck your teeth behind your glittery lips.

“duh, bitch! why do you think she got that on?” sutton screamed from the back, making all three of you die in laughter as you hid your face. just like, one more time wouldn’t hurt.

even under the kaleidoscope of neon lights, you could tell the whole room’s attention turned toward you as you danced your way in. sneaking a seltzer from the cooler, you settled at the beer pong table where a group of wannabe finance bros crushed solo cups of natty light, shooting each other starstruck glances and sharing whispers as you glided through, greeting everyone with an indifferent wave and an insincere heyyyyyyy.

“yo, rafe, your girl’s over there,” kelce leaned in, motioning over to the enveloping swarm of people growing around you.

“bro, top,” rafe fell back, slapping topper in the chest, “why the fuck did you even invite her?” he spat out, eyes pulsing.

“dude…why wouldn’t i invite her…” topper stated plainly, as if rafe had asked if the sky was fucking blue. if you weren’t there, that shit was a flop.

“that bitch,” he started, shaky hands sliding in to search his pockets, “that bitch is fucking crazy, okay?” he pulled out a dime bag and his wallet, eyeing his friends who knew better than to speak. he tapped some out on the granite countertop, lining it up nice and clean with his american express, hinging at the waist to align a rolled 20 with the powder, making it disappear in one snort.

before it could register, sutton was dragging you through the sea of people and closer and closer to rafe, forcing you to abandon the crowd of drooling fans. gripping your shoulders, she planted you right in front of him. you looked up, caught between a flash of fear and drunken amusement, an absent smile playing on your face.

“be good okay?” she chided, lightly slapping your back with beaming pride, “text me if you need anything!”

he wiped the excess powder off his nostril with a laugh of disbelief as he stood over you, studying your face. all you can manage is a squeaky and breathless hi as your tipsy blush deepens.

“hey, kid. miss me or somethin’?” he mocked, bringing the tips of his fingers to brush against your arm. 

“oh my god rafe, be serious,” you scoff, batting away his large, lingering hands.

“aw, what? don’t wanna share a blunt with me like we used to?” he drew out, words dripping in honeyed hatred. almost made you forget all the shit he’d put you through. the familiar teal of his eyes roamed over every square inch of your freckled and exposed skin.

“fuck no,” you laughed, watching as his tongue swiped against his bottom lip, “no tellin’ where your mouth has been.”

“right, “ his eyes narrowed as he crouched down, inches from your face, “like you’re some fuckin’ angel.”

breath hot on your lips, encapsulating you with the smell of stout liquor and le labo santal. “won’t smoke with me, but you’ll smoke with ole boy?” he spoke, low and calm through heaving breaths as he motioned with a sharp hand towards the brunette you’d ran into.

fuck. he heard you.

 “i see how it is…bein’ an attention whore since you left, huh?” he backed up, wiping the wetness off his lower lip with the same hand.

“don’t piss me off,” you rolled your eyes, “come on.”  taking his wrist into your hand and leading him towards the balcony door. he had an uncanny talent for manipulating the situation, planting the illusion you had the upper hand, although you never did. you were unknowingly right where he wanted you. digging into your purse, you pull out an m&m mini’s tube, popping it open and flipping it vertically. a blunt slid out and into your fingers, perfectly rolled.

the coastal air was thick with humidity, only lit by the light poles on the beach. rafe’s chest hovered over your back as you stepped out into the salty breeze, brushing strands of hair out of your eyes and positioning the blunt between your lips. just as you fished for your lighter, he moved faster, sparking a flame under his calloused thumb and bringing it closer. he watched you as the fire cast a glow on your half-lidded gaze, crackling lightly as you inhaled. as mean and vile and ungrateful as he was, he truthfully couldn’t imagine himself with another girl. you were bitchy, high maintenance, never satisfied, spoiled, whiny, just so unknowingly powerful. but god, you were fucking perfect. who else on this island would be able to handle you?

“you know,” you hissed, drawing the smoke sharply between your teeth before releasing it in a hazy stream that slipped through the perfect, glossy ‘o’ formed by the soft contour of your lips. “it wasn’t as devastating as i thought it was gonna be.” you sputter, nudging it towards his towering frame which stood outlined by the glow of the orange lanterns. he hit it, tiny little consecutive pecks that made the tip flash on and off.

“really?” he choked between inhales. “cause you look pretty devastated to me.” he smirked, stepping closer, blowing the potent smoke into your parted lips as you instinctively breathe it in. “you miss me?”

“maybe just a little,” you tease, watching the satisfied smirk grow on his face. his free hand traced the curve of your collarbone, fingers lightly brushing the tousled strands of your hair off your shoulder. he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the tanned skin.

“i miss your carrdddd, that nice big boattt, the presents.” you sing with a smug smile, hands snaking around his neck, his fingers finding the cushion of your hips, moving and swaying together.

“oh, shut the fuck up,” he looked down at you, dilated pupils scanning your face, “nobody’s fucking you like me, bet that,” a dry laugh left his throat.

“ugh,” you crash into his chest, pressing your cheek into the dry cleaned ralph lauren. whining  ihateyouihateyouihateyou’s.

steady and smooth, he discarded the blunt, wrapping his hands around your back, groping and pawing at your half-revealed ass. without thinking, you lift onto your tippy toes, breath coming in shallow gasps, lips lingering over his open mouth. without warning, his tongue fought its way in, swirling with yours in a hot, desperate hail mary. your lips met in sloppy smacks, stumbling over each other until he eventually had your hips pressed against the side railing.

pulling away, he spoke, low and from his chest. “you hate me? yeah? or do you just miss my dick in you,” his face lingered over yours, “n’ it’s got you all fuckin’ bothered.” you felt the puff of breath with each word. “say it,” he coaxed, hiking up the front of your dress to thumb at the hem of your panties, “say you want me to take that pussy.” his long fingers ran over your clothed clit, making your hips roll against the opulent stone that hung over the thornton estate. he chuckled, shaking his head as his gaze fixed between your legs. “it’s fuckin’ mine anyways.”  

your lips chased after his as he stepped back, tsking at you, still holding you steady by the waist. “nah, baby. gotta say it,”

you closed the distance, pressing your soft, heavy tits into the muscle of his abdomen and the pads of your fingertips into his bicep. face so close to yours, a smirk practically tangible in the air.

“pleaseeeee rafe, i need it,” you panted out, desperate and erratic. “just one more time.” your eyes traced him up and down, sinking into cross-faded euphoria. a single, needy tear fell from the corner of your glittery and bloodshot eye, streaking down your flushed cheek. brushing his lips against you, he flicked his tongue, tracing the path of the teardrop. you moan at the warmth against your cool skin, reaching down to guide his hand between your legs.

“fuck, such a slut.” he breathes out, cupping your dripping cunt and meeting your lips in a deep, perverse kiss. the kind that you just can't help but pull back a little bit. “missed you, missed this pussy.” he spoke in a low guttural rasp, almost inaudible. his wide build shielded you from the large glass doors that led into the party, hooking his fingers in the fabric of your panties and yanking them down, dipping his middle finger into the wetness pooling at your entrance.

“god, need this shit,” he groaned, swiping his finger gently up and down, circling your bundle of nerves. “turn around.”

he gave the command yet didn’t wait for a response, his firm grip on your waist flipping you the other way, leaving no room for a fight. bent over the balcony balustrade, your head hung in the air, looking down at the pool that sat twenty feet below. one of rafe’s hands pinned you over the railing by the back of the neck while the other played and prodded at your hole, getting you ready for him. discreetly, he worked his cock loose, rubbing the tip through your slick folds.

“rafeeee,” you muffle out, face smushed against the stone and immobile from the strength of his grasp. “not here, please, ca-can we just go inside?”

“nahh, i don’t think so, baby. this is what you wanted, right?” his hand slid down, wrapping a fist into the bunched fabric of your dress, pressing into you. your walls fluttered against him, a feeling so familiar yet so distant. lasers from the party strobed through the window, flashing by you. knees buckling, you couldn’t help but wiggle your ass back against him.

“god – fuck!” you squeal out, feeling him balls deep in you, guiding you down his length and filling you to the hilt. reaching into the pocket of his khakis, which still hung low on his hips, he fishes his phone out. with a quick flick, snapchat is open and the flash is washing over you. even with your head hung over the railing, you could still see the spotlight focused on your tight, twitching hole. he slides in and out, using your dress to manipulate the rhythm of your body. capturing everyyyy moment.

“this s’my shit, huh?” he panted out, your ass recoiling against each harsh thrust. “you’re my bitch, y’know that? been my bitch.” voice low and slow, almost cocky, like he wanted everyone to know -  like they didn’t already. the sound of damp, saturated clapping mixed with the crash of waves onto the shore.

“p-please, they’re gonna see,” you whimper, body jerking as he slams into you over and over. imagine the uproar if everyone saw you, little miss untouchable, taking your ex-boyfriend’s cock on the terrace outside topper’s party. grabbing a handful of hair, he yanks your head back, glare of the light fixed on your face. 

“they’re gonna see anyway, baby, don’t be shy. jus’ cum f’me,” your face screwed with his words, brows furrowing as you looked up at the camera with hopeless, empty eyes. just so fucked out. the curve of his dick poked and kissed that sweet spot deep inside you, bringing you closer and closer.

“you love me, huh?” he grunted, still forcing a deep arch in your back. “tell the camera you love me, princess.” you could feel yourself coming loose, guilt and lust boiling over in your tummy. you explode in a squealing moan, gripping on his cock and covering it with cream.

 “i love you rafe, fuck! - love you so so much!” crying through hiccups and flickering eyes, still trained on the flash. such a smart girl getting fucked dumb on camera. such a powerful person yet completely powerless in his hands.

“gonna let me nut in you?” his filming hand went flimsy as he quickened his pace, groaning and letting out short little bursts of air. “y’gonna take it all, be good for me like you used to?” he rasped, met with limp nods and a braindead mhmmm. that’s all it took for him to pound every inch into you, sending you deeper into your daze. fuckin’ dickmatized.

the video on his screen shook violently with each stroke, hot spurts of cum filling you up. “fuuuuckk,” he groaned, hips stuttering to a stop and loosening the grip on your hair, leaving you to catch your breath hung over the railing. he pointed the camera down, pulling himself out and spreading one cheek open with his hand to expose the stickiness dripping out of you. the flash finally goes off, and he saves it to his memories. bringing his fingers up to your leaky hole, he fucks his seed in deeper, eliciting a choked sob from your lips. pulling you upright and flipping you to face him, he squats down to pull your panties up from around your ankles, shimmying your hips into them and pulling your dress down. it was just like y'all used to.

the party was still in full swing as you both slipped back in, parting ways as you went to check in with sutton and reagan, completely disregarding the knotted mess of hair on your head and the streaked makeup down your face. was that fucking real? your legs were tight as you stagger and shuffle through groups of drunk teenagers all bouncing with the music, trying to regain your composure. as soon as reagan spots you from the couch, her jaw is on the floor, ushering you closer with her hand.

“y/n, no fucking way! you slut!” she shrieks with wide eyes and a light slap to your arm. “does sutton know?”

“girl, she set the shit up!” you try to explain, motioning with your hands. “i was like, if you insistttttt.” you lie, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, hitting her with a debby ryan radio rebel type smirk.

“you’re lying,” she goes on, picking her jaw up and taking a swig of her drink. “speak of the devil!” she exclaims, motioning behind you with her drink. a sharp smack landed on your ass, making you jump. sutton’s hand gripped yours, turning you around.

“did you fuck him?” she smiled, obviously drunk as shit and wayyy too loud.

“yeahh, what do you mean…” you roll your eyes, snapping your head to the side with a wide smile. it was evident how excited sutton was, prideful about it. lifting her solo cup in the air and grabbing to lift yours with the other, she let out a deafening woo!

“personally…” she went on, clutching her imaginary pearls, “i think that’s worth drinking to,” she proposed, side-eyeing and nudging you not so subtly. “come on bitch! shots for ken and barbie!”

to be honest, that was the last thing you remember.

the next morning, you woke up nuzzled in plaid grey sheets, your phone buzzing incessantly with notifications. the sound of the groundskeepers filtered through the windows. tannyhill.

fumbling with your phone, the words flashed across the screen.

figure8insider – ‘kildare’s power couple reunited? rafe cameron and y/n y/ln spotted together at party!’

oh.my.god.

[scealaiscoite]

.☽༊˚ a hundred assorted prompts

¹⁾ raspberry lip gloss

²⁾ pajama bottoms

³⁾ a silver lighter

⁴⁾ fresh honey

⁵⁾ flushed cheeks

⁶⁾ a fogged-up mirror

⁷⁾ the imprint of a belt buckle on skin

⁸⁾ helium balloons

⁹⁾ a broken cocktail glass

¹⁰⁾ old playing cards

¹¹⁾ chipped green nail polish

¹²⁾ a brown leather wallet

¹³⁾ bullet holes in a wooden wall

¹⁴⁾ seashells lined up along the curve of a spine

¹⁵⁾ beaded curtains

¹⁶⁾ pomegranate seeds

¹⁷⁾ a carabiner heavy with keys

¹⁸⁾ fresh-cut orchids in a pottery vase

¹⁹⁾ vending machine cigarettes

²⁰⁾ an out of date map

²¹⁾ a creaky wooden gate

²²⁾ a minifridge stocked with budweiser and paracetamol

²³⁾ snapdragons growing between pavement slabs

²⁴⁾ smudged yellow eyeshadow

²⁵⁾ slept-in braids

²⁶⁾ library books that’ll never be returned

²⁷⁾ a pink-tiled shower

²⁸⁾ a honeybee on a linen shirtsleeve

²⁹⁾ burnt popcorn

³⁰⁾ watching an eclipse from bed

³¹⁾ a black lace bralette

³²⁾ a tattered patchwork quilt

³³⁾ blue raspberry bubblegum

³⁴⁾ a rusted fishing rod and a dried-up lake

³⁶⁾ the taste of whiskey on someone else’s lips

³⁷⁾ rose-scented candles burned down to the wick

³⁸⁾ crescent-shaped coffee stains on a wooden tabletop 

³⁹⁾ odd socks 

⁴⁰⁾ a loose thread on a jumper sleeve

⁴¹⁾ warm sheets on cold skin

⁴²⁾ amber-tinged perfume

⁴³⁾ gold jewelry 

⁴⁴⁾  a calloused palm against a soft cheek 

⁴⁵⁾ a busted headlight

⁴⁶⁾ sunrise from a jail cell

⁴⁷⁾ hand tattoos that weave around fingers

⁴⁸⁾ coconut shampoo

⁴⁹⁾ a doorbell sounding in the middle of the night

⁵⁰⁾ ladybugs crawling across a headstone

⁵¹⁾ grass stains on blue jeans

⁵²⁾ a loaded saddlebag

⁵³⁾ a dusty wine cellar

⁵⁴⁾ a bikini top draped over a bedpost

⁵⁵⁾ snow in july

⁵⁶⁾ dirt-red mountaintops

⁵⁷⁾ goosebumps in a heatwave

⁵⁸⁾ an empty dinnertable

⁵⁹⁾ a fresh manicure and bruised knuckles

⁶⁰⁾ zombie movies

⁶¹⁾ bitten lips

⁶²⁾ dark eyes full of tears

⁶³⁾ a soft cast in summertime

⁶⁴⁾ stale coffee in paper cups

⁶⁵⁾ frozen peaches on a black eye

⁶⁶⁾ acrid smoke

⁶⁷⁾ bound hands

⁶⁸⁾ animal tracks

⁶⁹⁾ unwound vhs tapes

⁷⁰⁾ cartoon plasters

⁷¹⁾ lipstick marks on shirt collars

⁷²⁾ silver bangles

⁷³⁾ sharing a coat in a downpour

⁷⁴⁾ fields with grass at waist-height

⁷⁵⁾ daisy chains up to your forearm

⁷⁶⁾ rolled-up shirtsleeves

⁷⁷⁾ the smell of bleach in a dark room

⁷⁸⁾ a shared sleeping bag

⁷⁹⁾ a new haircut

⁸⁰⁾ swimsuit tanlines

⁸¹⁾ perfume clinging to a pillow

⁸²⁾ lollipops dangling between lips

⁸³⁾ a badly-timed grin

⁸⁴⁾ old books

⁸⁵⁾ tongues stained from slushies

⁸⁶⁾ waking up in a hailstorm

⁸⁷⁾ dying sunflowers

⁸⁸⁾ colourful sunglasses

⁸⁹⁾ the last pew

⁹⁰⁾ tall, rattling windows in a storm

⁹¹⁾ six missed calls

⁹²⁾ sticks of incense burned down to the last

⁹³⁾ bunk beds

⁹⁴⁾ matching sets

⁹⁵⁾ ruined mascara

⁹⁶⁾ a boxing ring

⁹⁷⁾ stained glass windows

⁹⁸⁾ fairy forts

⁹⁹⁾ a cluttered bedside table

¹⁰⁰⁾ a hangover in the evening

[aliyahwritings]

RAFE CAMERON and his DESI!GIRLFRIEND

masterlist.

BOYFRIEND!RAFE ... who complains when you first show him Bollywood movies about how long they are, but ends up more interested than you (he cried during K3G because of his daddy issues).

BOYFRIEND!RAFE ... who gets laughed at when he first met your family because his eyes were getting teary when eating your mum's food. With time though, he became used to it and can handle it better... until he tastes your grandma's food and it's over for him.

BOYFRIEND!RAFE ... who didn't get to see you with your hair oiled up in the beginning of your relationship because you were scared the scent would be too much for him, but it has now become a routine. He literally drives you to your mom's for your usual head/hair oil massage, and watches intently how your mama does it, so he can do it for you later (that's so husband coded of him omggg).

BOYFRIEND!RAFE ... who watches you with unwavering attention every time you get ready, mesmerized by the way your bangles slide down your wrists and the soft clinking sound they make. His gaze lingers as you adjust your dupatta, taking his time to memorize every delicate movement.

BOYFRIEND!RAFE ... who's obsessed with the feel of your bangles against his skin—when your hands trail over his chest or cup his face, the cold metal pressing into his warm skin. Sometimes, he holds your wrist just to play with them absentmindedly, rolling each bangle between his fingers like it’s his favorite toy.

BOYFRIEND!RAFE ... who secretly practices pronouncing your full name in the mirror until he gets it right, savoring the way it rolls off his tongue. He knows how much it means to you, and when he says it perfectly in front of your family, the proud smile you give him makes every attempt worth it.

BOYFRIEND!RAFE ... who always makes an effort to wear traditional fits when it matters, showing up in kurtas that hug his frame perfectly. He stands out, but in the best way—earning approving nods from the uncles and heart-eyed stares from the aunties who pull you aside just to say how lucky you are.

BOYFRIEND!RAFE ... who thrives during family gatherings, blending in like he was meant to be there all along. The aunties dote on him endlessly, praising him for helping with the decorations or carrying heavy boxes during wedding prep. The uncles offer him drinks, impressed by how quickly he’s learned to fit into the chaos. He doesn’t even blink when the music starts and you’re pulled into the center of the room to dance. Instead, he watches, leaning against the wall with a soft smile, arms crossed over his chest as he admires the way you glow in your element.

BOYFRIEND!RAFE ... who never complains when you drag him to fabric shops or markets, even if you spend hours picking out the right color or embroidery. He stands patiently by your side, occasionally giving his opinion but mostly just watching how excited you get. He'll sneak up behind you, whispering how stunning you’d look in everything. More than once, he’s slipped away to quietly pay for the set you were eyeing, only for you to find it in a little box on your bed later that night.

BOYFRIEND!RAFE ... who's become so used to you calling him pagal (crazy/idiot) that he's started using it with his friends.

BOYFRIEND!RAFE ... who learned how to drape your sari. Did it take him a while? Yes, but that doesn't count. He knows where to make the folds and where to tuck in the fabric, and that's enough for you. He even starts buying you new ones because of how beautiful you look in them.

MARRIAGE MARRIAGE MARRIAGE MARRIAGE MARRIAGE MARRIAGE MARRIAGE MARRIAGE MARRIAGE MARRIAGE MARRIAGE MARRIAGE MARRIAGE MARRIAGE MARRIAGE

BOYFRIEND!RAFE ... who's very committed to his bit (dance) and practices for days and days. He would act as if he's just doing it for your family and that's it's nothing, but you know he loves it.

BOYFRIEND!RAFE ... who turns into Nick Jonas for real!!! He's not complaining once about the amount of ceremonies there is. He's in awe of your culture and that's all.

HUSBAND!RAFE ... who, after the wedding, is constantly making sure you’re okay. He holds your hand tightly in the car, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb, always asking if you’re comfortable, if you need anything. Even on your honeymoon, when it’s just the two of you, he still can’t stop marveling at how lucky he is to have you.

HUSBAND!RAFE ... who spoils you relentlessly. He doesn’t care if you insist he doesn’t have to—flowers arrive at your doorstep every week, jewelry boxes sit on your dresser, and he’s constantly booking spontaneous weekend getaways just because. When you scold him for spending too much, he kisses your forehead and brushes it off.

HUSBAND!RAFE ... who keeps your wedding photo framed on his desk. He’ll sit and stare at it during late nights at work, running his thumb over the glass while thinking about how much he misses you. He counts down the minutes until he can come home, and when he finally does, he’s pulling you into his lap the second you greet him.

HUSBAND!RAFE ... who brings home little things that remind him of you. If he spots bangles, dupattas, or anything embroidered with colors you love, he’s buying it without hesitation. Sometimes he gets the sizes wrong, but the effort makes you melt every time.

HUSBAND!RAFE ... who’s absolutely soft when it’s just the two of you. His tough, cocky exterior melts the second you’re alone. He’ll wrap himself around you, burying his face in your neck as you stroke his hair. He’s happiest when he’s in bed with you, legs tangled together under the covers, whispering about how he’s never letting you go.

HUSBAND!RAFE ... who always keeps his promises. No matter how chaotic life gets, he’s there—by your side, unwavering in his love and loyalty.

INFO ABOUT UPDATES: if you want to be notified about all my fics and updates, follow @aliyahwritings-notifs and turn on notifications!!!

[amirawrah]

⭐︎ coachella heat

with JUDE BELLINGHAM ⭐︎ THIS WAS A REQUEST BY AN ANON, HOPE YOU LIKE IT!!

The sun filtered through the hotel suite in soft gold streaks, casting warm light across the white sheets as you blinked awake. Coachella morning had finally arrived. The playlist was already buzzing low from your speaker—Frank Ocean humming softly in the background—while Jude, shirtless and fresh from the shower, stood at the sink carefully brushing his teeth.

You sat up, braids a little messy, cheeks warm, watching him like you hadn't seen him a hundred times before. Jude caught your eyes in the mirror and smirked, foam still in his mouth.

“Don’t stare,” he mumbled around the toothbrush, “you’re gonna make me nervous.”

You snorted. “You? Nervous? You’re Jude Bellingham.”

He rinsed and wiped his face, then walked over to press a kiss to your forehead, damp curls brushing your skin. “Still get nervous when you look at me like that,” he said, voice low, sweet.

You hummed, leaning into him. “Help me pick my outfit?”

He gave you a mock-serious nod. “Only if you help me with my jewelry. You know I can’t layer necklaces like you do.”

Thirty minutes later, the room was an explosion of fringe, glitter, sunglasses, and soft laughter. You stood in front of the full-length mirror, holding up two options and Jude lounged on the bed behind you, chin propped on his hand, watching like you were the entire festival.

“Left one,” he said, pointing and smirking. “The skirt. Its hot.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You’re a pervert now?”

He shrugged and laughed. “You bring it out of me.”

You turned back around, slipping into the outfit, feeling his eyes on you the whole time. When you turned back for approval, Jude just whistled low. “Yeah. We’re about to shut Coachella down.”

You laughed, walking over to fix the chain around his neck. “We? I don’t know, Mr. ‘Black Tank and Nike Cortez.’”

“I’m accessorising!” he protested, pointing to his rings and gold chain. “And my sunglasses are Dior, okay?”

“Okay, fashion king.”

He leaned in and kissed you, slow and sweet, then rested his forehead against yours. “Let’s go show the desert what love looks like.”

The shuttle dropped you off right outside the artist entry, security guiding your small group through the crowd as the buzz of Coachella washed over you like heat from the sun. Music thumped in the distance—bass vibrating through the soles of your boots—and the scent of sunscreen, warm air, and sweet food trucks wrapped around everything like a veil.

Jude held your hand tightly, fingers locked, not just protectively but like he couldn’t believe this was real—just the two of you, off-duty, no stadiums, no post-match interviews. Just sunglasses, and love under a desert sky.

“Remind me again why we don’t do this every year?” he said in your ear, lips brushing your temple.

“Because someone’s usually too busy saving Real Madrid's ass,” you teased, swinging his hand.

He chuckled, then perked up when he saw a familiar figure waving from behind a velvet rope. David Alaba, effortlessly cool in a vintage tee and a black durag, stood with his wife Shalimar, who looked like she stepped straight out of a Vogue desert editorial—flowy pastel set, gold bangles, and baby braids.

“Ayyy, finally!” David grinned, pulling Jude into a hug before turning to you. “You’re glowing honestly”

Shalimar hugged you tightly. “I was wondering what took y’all so long. We already saw Camavinga take, like, fifteen mirror selfies.”

And there he was—Eduardo, in bright printed pants and tinted pink shades, adjusting his phone in the reflection of a chrome Airstream trailer. Vini was leaned against it, nodding along to a beat with his arm slung around a girl you’d met a few times, who gave you a sweet wave. Aurélien strolled up with an iced drink in each hand, offering you one.

“Hydration,” he winked. “Mandatory.”

You all found a quiet backstage lounging spot—a shaded area filled with huge cushions, string lights overhead, low tables with fruit trays and drinks. Everyone kicked back, shoes off, laughing, vibing. Jude was tucked into your side, arm lazily around your waist, your head resting on his shoulder as you sipped from his coconut water.

Someone had a Polaroid camera—probably Vini—and soon there were little film shots lying around like confetti. Jude and you posed in one: you on his lap, sunglasses low on your nose, your arm thrown around his shoulders, his cheek pressed to yours with that soft, smirky grin he always saved just for you.

Another photo: Shalimar pulling you into a laughing hug. Then one of Jude trying (and failing) to copy Eduardo’s dance moves, everyone howling in the background.

It wasn’t long before a few fans spotted the group, phones quietly snapping photos. A young girl approached shyly, clutching a mini instant cam.

“Excuse me,” she said nervously, “could I maybe get a picture with you, Jude?”

Jude smiled warmly, standing and crouching next to her. “Of course, sweetheart.”

Then her eyes darted to you, recognition dawning slowly. “Wait… you’re his girlfriend, right? Can I—could I get one with both of you? You’re so pretty. I love your style.”

Your cheeks burned, but Jude beamed, proud. He pulled you in gently. “She is pretty, isn’t she?” he said, low enough that only the three of you could hear. “Prettiest girl here.”

The sun had dipped behind the palm trees hours ago, leaving a streak of lavender and burnt orange in its wake. Neon lights shimmered across the festival grounds as the crowd buzzed in anticipation. Everyone knew what time it was—Travis Scott was about to hit the stage.

Jude’s hand never left yours as you both made your way through the thickening crowd. You were tucked under his arm, his palm spread firm and protective over the small of your back. You could hear girls whispering, phones snapping, but none of it mattered—not when he was this close, not when the bass was already vibrating through your chest and his lips were grazing your ear.

“Good view?” he asked as you reached the sweet spot—far enough not to get crushed, close enough to feel the heat of the lights.

You smiled, pulling your phone out for a quick story. “The best.”

And then the beat dropped. The crowd erupted. Goosebumps blared through the night air, and the world exploded into bass, strobe lights, and the wild kind of freedom that only a music festival at midnight can bring.

Jude moved behind you, pulling you flush against him, arms wrapping around your waist. His locs brushed the side of your face as he leaned in, voice low, half-singing, half-laughing into your ear.

“I get those goosebumps every time…”

You threw your head back, laughing as he sang the line dramatically, rocking the two of you side to side with the rhythm.

“Don’t make me rap it all,” he said, teasing, mouthing the next line in sync with Travis. “I could do the whole thing right now.”

You turned slightly, one hand reaching up to run along his jaw. “I dare you.”

Jude took the challenge way too seriously. For the next song, he rapped every word, hype and smooth, into your ear—his chest pressed to your back, voice low and warm as his hands slid around your waist, gripping your hips in time with the beat.

Your head rested against his shoulder, swaying together, your bodies moving in sync under the stars. The lights flashed red and gold and violet across his face, and every time you looked up at him, he was already watching you.

“You’re unreal,” he muttered into your hair, pulling you closer. “Like—look at you. At Coachella. With me. I’m never getting over this.”

You laughed, throwing your arms over his shoulders. “You’re acting like this isn’t your everyday life.”

“It’s not,” he said, serious now. “This? You? You’re the best part.”

A beat later, he was singing with you again, his voice right in your ear as your fingers laced behind his neck. It was loud, chaotic, magical—but none of it could touch the little world you and Jude had built within that crowd. You were his calm in the middle of the storm, his favourite melody even louder than the music.

And as the chorus hit again, Jude spun you gently in his arms, catching you under the lights with that look—like you were it. The moment. The feeling. The song.

And honestly?

You were.

The crowd had just come down from Travis’s set, sweat-slick and starstruck, but the second Bad Bunny stepped on stage, the energy shifted. The lights went low, the air thick with heat and anticipation, and the beat dropped into something darker—something slow, pulsing, undeniably sensual.

Jude’s arms were still wrapped around your waist from behind, but now, his grip tightened.

The bass vibrated straight through your chest as Bad Bunny launched into 'Titi Me Preguntó', and then slid effortlessly into something smoother, more explicit. You couldn’t understand every word, but the tone said enough. Heavy. Tempting. Dripping with want.

And Jude? He was gone.

You felt it the second the tempo slowed and his hips pressed flush against yours, one hand splayed low on your stomach, the other inching down to your hip. His lips brushed your ear, breath hot.

“You’re killing me, you know that?” he murmured, voice low and rough, like the song was getting to him more than he wanted to admit. “The way you move…”

You rolled your hips back just slightly—just enough to feel the tension in his body spike.

“Fucking hell,” he hissed, fingers digging into your waist.

The beat slowed into something dirtily hypnotic, and you started to move in time with it, grinding back into him, the way you knew would make his knees weak. Jude’s hands roamed now—hungry, possessive. He pressed in closer, chest to your back, lips trailing along your neck.

You could feel just how turned on he was, and it made your breath hitch.

“This is torture,” he growled, voice raw and desperate now. “You in this outfit, dancing on me like this… in front of everyone.”

You smirked, looking over your shoulder at him. “Then take me home.”

He let out a low laugh, almost dangerous, eyes dark. “If you keep this up, I won’t make it home.”

His hands slid down your sides, pulling you even tighter against him, hips moving with yours to the rhythm as Bad Bunny’s voice poured through the speakers like smoke. Your bodies moved like one—synchronised, slick with sweat, caught in a loop of teasing touches and grinding tension.

Around you, the crowd faded into neon blur. It was just you and Jude, dancing like no one else existed, like the heat between your bodies could start a fire in the desert night.

When the next track started, just as hot and heavy, Jude leaned in, voice full of gravel and need. “I swear, the second this set ends, I’m getting you out of here.”

And the way he said it? You didn’t doubt him for a second. as the heated glances traded between you as the pounding bass vibrated through the air, feeding the electric charge building between your bodies. Jude's fingers traced up your spine, sending shivers down your skin, as his other hand gripped your hip, pulling you harder against his straining erection.

You couldn't help but roll your hips in response, grinding against him with a moan that was lost in the music. The crowd around you throbbed and pulsed, but all you saw was Jude's intense gaze, all you felt was his body moving in perfect harmony with yours.

Bad Bunny's seductive lyrics painted a vivid picture in your mind, each word echoing the primal desire coursing through your veins. When the song reached its climax, Jude captured your lips in a searing kiss, tongues tangling in a frenzied dance that left you breathless and craving more.

The music transitioned into a slower, more sensual track, but the heat between you only intensified and honestly you were fine with that.

[revolutionsingingintherainnn]

Jamaai Ghar Aaye ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆

Summary: Lando and you go back home from your honeymoon. You hadn't realised how much your parents had changed in that short period of time.

⤑ ln x desi!reader 𔓘

⤑ fluff 𔓘

masterlist ☾☼

marrying lando had been a dream come true. it was something you hadn't expected, but god, you were glad it happened.

now, after not only getting married, but being back to india, to your city after your honeymoon really made you realise just how real the relationship was. the two of you had planned to stay in india for a week with your family, before going to monaco. lando had to begin with his training soon, and you had to get back to work. it worked out well for you.

standing just outside the airport, you quickly spotted your cousin's car, and the two of you dragged your bags over. your cousins stepped out, hugging the both of you, and put the bags in the trunk.

lando and you climbed into the back seat, where you rearranged the bags to sit in the middle, closer to where lando was against the window.

he immediately wrapped an arm across your shoulder and you leaned into him, holding his hand, enjoying the way your red bangles clinked against each other. he pressed a distracted kiss against your temple, his attention on the people outside as your cousin made his way out of the airport pick up and drop.

"so, how was the honeymoon?" your cousin in the passenger seat asked, turning from his seat.

you brightened up, and leaned forward to tell him all kinds of stories. your hands moved animatedly, and every now and then, lando chimed in with a part that you missed.

"are you pregnant yet?" your cousin asked.

your cousin in the driver's seat coughed loudly as he tried to hide his laugh, and you glared at him. smacking your cousin's arm, you said, "what kind of question is that?"

"what? the only reason you can have sex is if you're trying to get pregnant!"

lando laughed, "mate, how many kids do you have?"

"shut up! i don't have sex that often!"

"sure you don't," your husband responded, still chuckling.

"hey, stay out of my sex life!"

"you stay out of ours then! no no, better yet, stay out of your baby sister's sex life, unless you want me to tell you all about how i made her c-"

"no, no, no, no shut up! i don't want to know! i don't care! stop talking!"

everyone in the car burst out laughing. serves your cousin right.

all four of your phones buzzed at the same time, and you checked the notification. your mom was asking in the family group if you and lando were on your way yet. quickly clicking on the camera icon on whatsapp, and setting it on selfie mode, you snapped a picture of you and lando making goofy faces.

sending the picture, you let your family know that you were about five minutes away. all you got was a thumbs up in response.

tuning back into the conversation happening in the car, you realised that your cousin from the driver's seat was talking.

"there's a full daawat at home,"

"what's a daawat?" lando asked you softly.

"it's like a full meal. multiple types of starters and main dishes and desserts. that kind of thing," you responded, just as softly.

"why is there a daawat?" lando asked, his question directed towards your cousins. the confusion was obvious in his voice, and despite him slightly butchering up the pronunciation of the word, you still appreciated it.

your cousin looked at lando from the rear view mirror and smirked, "jamaai ghar aaye hai,"

before lando could ask, your cousin parked the car in the allotted parking space, and the four of you got out of the car.

lando fussed around with the bags, insisting on taking out all the local sweets that he had handpicked from your honeymoon.

"baby, we can give it to them once we go inside,"

lando shook his head, already holding the pile of boxes, "no. we gotta give them now. what's that thing you say when you buy chocolates or a bottle of wine or something when we go to someone's house?"

you bit your lip, trying to hide your smile as you said, "khaali haath kisi ke ghar nahi jaate?"

"bang on," lando said, and walked towards the front door.

your cousins followed behind him with the suitcases, grumbling about their weight.

before you could even reach the door, your parents stepped out, arms wide and smiling. seeing them instantly filled you with joy, and you opened your arms as well to hug them. your parents sidestepped you, and hugged your husband, taking the boxes from his hands and dumping them in your open arms, as they quietly chatted for a bit.

you frowned, and watched as your husband leaned down and pressed his hand to your parents' feet before touching that hand to his chest.

well, at least sanskaar acche sikhaaye hai tumne.

your cousins laughed behind you, but you ignored them.

settling the boxes, you greeted all your aunts and uncles, and you joked a little bit with your cousins as well. you kept a watch on lando from the corner of your eye. he hugged and laughed with the entire family, and you couldn't help but notice how much attention he was receiving.

it made you happy. of course it did.

when your aunt called for dinner, you insisted that lando begin with his meal while you freshen up a bit to get rid of the flight feel.

picking your bag and walking to your room, you began winding down. changing into fresh clothes, you tied your hair, removed all your excess jewellery, washed your face and did your short skincare routine.

once you were done, you walked back to the dining room, and slowed down at the scene in front of you. lando sat at the head of the table, his plate filled with different delicacies. your entire family were surrounding him, offering him more food, and feeding him if required.

with a frown, you sat on the other end of the table, where your cousins sat, talking amongst themselves.

you began serving your plate, and every time you asked an aunt or uncle for a particular dish, they gave it to you without even glancing at you, and it only made you frown more.

as you ate, you watched the special treatment your husband was receiving from your family.

"what the fuck is happening?" you asked lowly to your cousins.

they looked at the scene that you had been watching. your mother was forcing gulab jamuns in his mouth, and you could tell lando was loving the attention.

your cousin sister snorted, "isn't it obvious? jamaai ghar aaye hai,"

you scrunched up your face as you watched all the gulab jamuns vanishing, and silently wished you had taken two beforehand.

sighing you said, "i miss when i used to be the favourite child,"

your cousins laugh, "it always ends up being the jamaai,"

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

@partiallyderived this is for you! i got this idea a long time ago when we were talking about your dad basically seeing lando as his son-in-law. baba maan gaye ismein bhi ;)

lemme know what you think of it! this is my prompt list, so y'all can select a number, give me a driver and i will write it as soon as possible! i also have a google form for a taglist if anyone's interested! you can sent in your requests here :)

taglist: @imlonelydontsendhelp ; @greantii ; @anamiad00msday ; @maketheshadowsfearyou ; @nocturnalherb16 ; @justaf1girl ; @peterholland04 ; @phobiccneel ; @winkev1 ; @alexxavicry

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Jamil Viper: A Web, Tangled

Aaand here we go with the Relaxing in Room line of birthday cards :v d ehebkwjw It’s so funny that they chuck pillows to attack??? (By the way, congrats to this Jamil card overloading and crashing the JP server 😂)

For this series of birthday ficlets, I’ll focus on writing each birthday boy preparing to walk to school with the reader (since the duo partner barely appears in the vignettes). Can be read platonically or romantically, whatever you prefer~

Rise and Shine!

You lingered by the doorway, your eyes glued on Jamil.

He was preoccupied with glimpsing himself in a mirror set on a table. Before him were various accessories from a jeweled box. (Judging from the gaudiness of the massive rubies on it, it must have been a gift from Kalim.)

Loose tresses the color of dark chocolate tumbled down his back. When Jamil ran a brush through them, the sun caught and his hair tempered, turning lustrous.

You’d seen him massage his scalp with oil-slicked hands before—and again, he diid it, followed by some sort of a cream. The routine left his head moisturized smelling faintly of jasmine. Jamil never compromised when it came to hair care.

You often had to remind yourself that he was not a princess, entrancing as he was. The sway of his hair, the snap of his steps. Each movement, close to a part in a mysterious dance.

Jamil produced his magical pen. The magestone laid in it was as clear as a cloudless day, and the color of blood that had been left out for a little too long.

Now came the spectacle, the very highlight of your entire morning.

Jamil raised the pen as if he was a conductor waving his baton. A hush fell over an imaginary audience, a collective of breaths held in anticipation. This is it, this is it.

He flicked his wrist, and the magic flowed.

A trail of scarlet light emanated whenever Jamil drew his wand. The accessories laid out on his desk floated up, compelled, in a neat line. A band with a feather dangling from it, narrow golden bangles, flat beads that clinked like coins.

His dark locks lifted, dividing themselves into even sections, then into even smaller ones. They carefully twisted over and under each other, weaving into tight braids. Accessories slid on, effortlessly fitting themselves at his direction.

His intricate hairstyle assembled quickly, as if arranging the pieces of a familiar puzzle.

The red sparkles faded into a fine shimmer and then into nothing at all. As the last traces of magic settled, you bursted into applause.

“Bravo, bravo! Great show as always,” you said appreciatively.

“… That wasn’t a performance,” Jamil corrected as he set his magical pen down.

“It might as well be! It takes some serious skill to pull that off every morning.” You gestured to him. “And so fast!“

“Anyone could accomplish it with enough time and practice.” His words choice was humble, but there was a hint of a smirk in his tone.

A rare moment of triumph for him.

“Not just anyone. I think you’ve got a natural talent for this kind of thing,” you grinned broadly, “like a spider!”

Jamil’s neutral expression splintered, leaving jagged edges exposed. His left eyes twitched, pupils pinpricks.

“Excuse me? In what way do I remind you of a vile bug?”

“Hey, don’t knock spiders! You guys have similar skills. The braids, the webs. You make’m well, all nice and strong. No strands out of place.”

“That doesn’t reassure me,” he groused, a hand on his hip. “I’d prefer if you didn’t compare me to them. It feels wrong.”

Jamil shivered. Not from the cold, but with repulsion.

You gave a laugh—soft against the rising morning sun. “Really? But you’re so alike in other ways too.”

His eyes narrowed into suspicious slivers. Mildly offended, perhaps.

“Elaborate,” he commanded.

“They’re hard working and important but under-appreciated,” you pointed out. “Without spiders, there would actually be a lot more bugs around. We should be more grateful to have spiders’ webs.”

There was a pause, deliberate. Then a gentle prompt.

“… Remind you of anyone?”

Jamil scoffed. It was as loud as a thunderclap in his suddenly cavernous bedroom.

“Maybe.”

Two syllables, clipped. An acknowledgment.

“Jamil-senpai…?”

He hurriedly looked away, staring at the wall for likely longer than what was deemed appropriate. Any more, whether in length or in intensity, and he might have burned a hole in it. His face, hotter than the Scalding Sands.

Your brows shot up. “… Ah. Could it be that you’re feeling embarrassed?”

“What? No, don’t be ridiculous. Something like this couldn’t possibly ruffle me.”

You craned your body, attempting to meet his gaze. But he wrenched away, denying that to you. “Then why aren’t you looking at me when you say that?”

“I need to get ready for class,” he replied dismissively. “So close the door and wait outside while I change out of my pajamas.”

“Now you’re just changing the subject!”

“Well, we’ll both be running late if we continue to dawdle,” Jamil warned—a tactful evasive maneuver.

His hands found their way onto your arms, steering you into the hallway. You turned back, mouth opening to protest, but Jamil had already sealed himself off.

Banging and calling out to him was no good. Kicking resulted in you gripping onto your poor foot and whimpering. You were left in a sorry state, back to the door as you rested on the floor.

On the other side, Jamil was surely having a little laugh. Cheeks still burning from the praise showered upon him, basking in the afterglow of it.

You sighed.

A spider makes its web to deceive flies into getting stuck in it. Jamil-senpai can be just as tricky.

[rainsiide]

IF WE’RE NOTHING, (WE’RE NOTHING.)

𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི now playing Comfort Inn Ending - Jhene Aiko. 𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི

“Why would you call it love when you knew that it wasn't?”

giselle x reader ⋮ giselle broke the weeks of no contact with you and asked she you to be her valentine.

warning you! ⋆ toxic exs, (kinda) heartbreak, some sort of rekindlement, manipulation, vulgar language

the gold bangle bracelet slipped down your wrist gently. tonight giselle had texted you, inviting you to a rooftop diner. she had broke no contact with you a few weeks ago and asked you to be her valentines. she told you to dress your best and meet her there by six-thirty. honestly, you were happy she had asked you because you probably would’ve sat in bed sulking and crying to the worst romcoms. taking a final look at your vanity mirror, you had hoped you were up to giselle’s standards.

slipping on some simple pumps, and a purse on your shoulder.

you shot a text to giselle before leaving your apartment, locking it behind you and making your way downstairs.

by the time you got downstairs you had no response from giselle. trying not to overthink it you continued on to your car and put in the address, driving off. soft music played in the car as your tires ran the street. cars ran past you like a relay, we all had somewhere to be.

finding yourself outside the building, giselle had still not responded to your text. maybe she was just getting things set up, yeah, that was all. walking through the glass doors you were greeted by a woman in a waitress outfit. asking how could she help you today.

“i’m with uchinaga.” you told her, quite anxious honestly. she gave you a smiled, then looking down at a rather big ipad to check with the reservations. looking at you and then at the table, she whispered something to herself. putting it down she looked back at you.

“you can follow me.” she proposed, stepping from behind the podium and making her way through the restaurant. several couples, the smell of wine, love, and more.

you spotted the all familiar pink haired girl on her phone. two menus set up, which her opposing side was rather messy. you thanked the waitress and giselle was quick to notice you.

“hey baby.” she said, standing up to bring you into a hug you hadn’t felt in some months. the embrace felt as though you would never let go. she placed a small kiss on your cheek, letting go and pulling your chair out for you. you smiled at her ladylike gesture, as you sat down across from her. it felt like your first valentine with her all over again.

as time went on a natural conversation sparked between you both. your main focus on her and, her phone. several buzzes and chimes had came through, and it was clear they were text messages. you tried not to pay any mind to them, clearly she wasn’t.

before the food came out you decided to excuse yourself to the bathroom to “wash your hands.” as you got up you had infact went to the bathroom to wash your hands. but as you left, you went around to come from the side of the restaurant behind giselle. you just wanted a peek at her phone. it was open to the messages on her notification center but she was clearly ignoring them.

“hey baby, are you still coming over?” one.

“will i see you tonight?” two.

“i miss you.. i wanna spend v-day together.” three.

“you were just responding earlier, text me back!” four.

and those were only messages you could see. you didn’t know if you wanted to throw her phone across the restaurant, or throw her. you walked around from behind her as grabbed your purse from the back of the chair.

“hey baby, what’s the matter? where are you going?” she looked frantic, scanning your rush to leave.

“don’t you fucking baby me giselle.” you said through your teeth. she stood up quickly trying to see you face to face of what happened.

“what the fuck is your problem? what is going on?” she said, her tone raising slightly. trying not to cause a scene in the middle of the restaurant.

“hey baby, are you still coming over?” are you fucking serious giselle.” you said, pushing her back. walking out the restaurant. you didn’t know if it was the tears or the rain that were falling down her face, but you knew it was heavy, and it wasn’t going to stop anytime soon

not many steps were made before you felt the rain stop and a hand on your wrist. her pink hair was still perfect. her features soft yet a tint of anger behind her eyes. the black umbrella shielding you from the cries of the sky.

“y/n those messages were nobody, i swear. you know i would never fuck around with anyone else. contact or no contact.” she said, her hand letting go of your wrist and gently touching your drenched face. you felt there was some truth behind her words, you didn’t know what words were true.

“trust me baby, i love you. you know that, and you know you love me too.” she stated. it was true, you always loved giselle, regardless of what happened between you. you would always come back.

“i know, but giselle.. you make me feel like we’re nothing.” you whispered to her, you wanted to speak louder but there was something holding you back. you wanted to say it with your chest but your heart rejected.

“we’re not nothing, we’re everything, you’re everything to me. you could never be nothing to me. i’d be nothing without you.” she said as she moved closer to you.

as she moved closer her breath fanned against your lips, the world was quiet and all you heard was your thoughts and her mouth. a gentle kiss was placed on her lips.

“let me make you feel everything on valentines baby.”

[l0s3rd0wnt0wn]

(So someone gave me this really cute ask from that one scene in Turning Red. You know the scene I accidentally posted without finishing it? Lol. But I will finish it now.)

You stared at your mother as she sat in front of her white vanity mirror. Her room looked like a showroom for an actress, except way bigger. You lay on her bed, just staring as she put on her lashes and tried a new red lip combo, only to turn back at you and ask if it was too much. To an uncultured fool, it would look like too much, but to you, it looked perfect—completely and utterly perfect. You sat up off the bed, nodding your head and making your mom giggle.

"Okay, okay, red it is, then." She gave you a soft smile. She looked at the different wigs in front of her—blonde, red, or plain black. Maybe she'll go crazy and do multiple colors. She waved her hand, beckoning you to come over, and you did eagerly, jumping off the leopard-print pink and black bed. You skipped over to her, and she showed you the wigs.

I was thinking about a bob, but then I considered something more scandalous: long blonde hair. But the pink one makes me look cute, like Jessica Rabbit, but with a hint of Princess Bubblegum. My mom was a bit of a nerd; she grew up watching old Power Rangers and Dragon Ball on TV, so it makes sense why she would raise a nerd like me. I looked at the wigs and picked the pink one.

"Gum!" You giggled, and it made her laugh she put you on her lap gently

"Great choice, sugarbutt," she installed the wig in her hair, making you hand her the edge brush. She made little heart edges that you loved. Next up is jewelry, dresses, and shoes. Your momma let you play dress-up with her in different outfits and styles, like she was your very own dress-up doll.

"How about this?" She posed in front of you wearing a stylish pink and black dress with little black ruffles and black butterflies on the long pink skirt. It made her look like a real-life Black Barbie; your mouth dropped to the floor.

"Too much? Or too little?" she questioned softly. You shook your head fast.

"Perfect!" You squeaked, giggling and clapping your hands as you ran over to your mom, who picked you up in her arms.

"Okay, what's next?" she asked sweetly.

"Necklace!" You snicker.

"And?" she asked sweetly.

"Earning!" You cried out, and she chuckled at your outburst.

"But you forgot one very special thing," you picked up little gold bangles, letting them jingle like bells, and your eyes shone.

"Pretty, right?" She placed them on her arm, and you stared at them as if they were golden stars. Then she stood up in front of you.

"Good enough for the red carpet, sugarbutt." And you clapped like she was already on the carpet, posing for the paparazzi and the Daily Planet. You were her number-one fan, and you still are to this very day.

[natalievoncatte]

Lena barely had time to process what was happening. Lena-938’s ship jumped into the air above Themyscira with a resounding, thunderous roar of displaced air. It was half as long as a football field and covered in antennas and radials crackling with strange energy that seemed to bend the air around it.

Kara was carrying the cyborg in her arms, her limp body curled against her. She suddenly seemed small and delicate, her silvery mechanical limbs like the delicate wings of a baby bird. Kara rushed up into the ship without a second thought with a pair of Lenas flanking her and 938 coming up bring them.

Lena had a brief moment of almost painful disorientation when she saw dozens of herself crowding around, all of them wearing numbered name tags. As much as it was like walking into the strange world of a funhouse mirror, there was shocking variety. There was a Lena with a jagged scar down one side of her face and a pale milky eye. Lenas with red hair, blonde, a few were even bald. She saw one, deathly pale, who seemed to have fangs.

They all made way for one among their number, wearing an elaborate costume of blue robes and bangles and jewelry and a high collared red cloak that billowed out behind her as she walked. Around her neck she wore a gaudy gleaming amulet on a rose gold chain… and a plain nylon lanyard with a name tag, 1610.

As she approached she halted Kara with a gesture, and waved a light-wreathed hand over the cyborg’s body.

“Her soul is still clinging to life. Hook her up to the life support systems, immediately.

Lena was swept up in the press of bodies, all of them her, that brought the cyborg to rest on an exam table.

“I built her,” the elder Lena said. “Follow my instructions.”

Lena helped. Her counterpart found hidden catches and removed the cyborg’s jaw and opened panels on her sides, and soon she was hooked up to an array of monitors, steadily blinking away and recording her brain waves.

Lena looked at her with older self, who stared back grimly.

“Your modifications bought her time, but she’s dying. She’s simply sustained too much damage and the Kryptonite poisoned what was left of her. It was only ever meant to be temporary.”

“I understand,” said Lena. “I… we can help.”

Tears welled in the elders eyes and Lena recognized her own expression of anguish, her lips pulled into a frown as her voice grew raw and throaty.

“I did this. It’s my fault. I was so selfish… I couldn’t let her go first, I can’t go without her.”

“You don’t have to,” said 938. “There’s another way. We can transfer her mind and soul into another body.”

Lena looked at her sharply.

“What other body?”

938 swallowed, hard. “We have… a spare.”

“You have a spare Kara?” Lena said, incredulous. “What the hell are you talking about?”

1610 folded her arms and looked at Lena levelly. “She’s been mindwiped.”

“What?” the elder Lena demanded. “Why? How? By who?”

An uncomfortable silence fell on the small sick bay. Kara, standing by the broken form of her half mechanical doppleganger, scowled but said nothing.

“Well?” said the Elder Lena. “Explain. Tell me how you have a spare Kara.”

Lena-938 licked her lips.

“On her Earth she was a tyrant. Her Lena was killed by Morgan Edge. He poisoned her with cyanide.”

Lena and Kara looked at her sharply.

938 said, “When her Lena died, it was her brother that approached this Kara, told her he wanted to bury the hatchet and avenge his sister. On this Earth, Kara’s cousin never arrived from Krypton and she was alone, and this Lex wasn’t a mortal enemy. He groomed her into a dictator, a puppet for him to rule through.”

“So what,” Kara snapped. “You invaded her world and mindwiped her? You didn’t give her a chance, try to help her?”

Lena was surprised, and slightly alarmed, at the force in her voice. The Elder Lena looked on approvingly, a sad smile briefly ghosting her lips.

“No,” said 1610. “She invaded another world. She’d already killed her Lex and used her Lena’s research to discover portals.”

“Of course,” said 938, “it was everyone’s misfortune that the first world she found was missing its Lena. On that Earth, Kara was Kryptonian but never became Supergirl, as Clark and Lex remained friends and founded the Justice League together and she was never called on to save Alex’s plane. That Kara had never even met her Lena. She never left Ireland.”

“Then why was she missing?”

“There are a lot of Lillians out there. This one wanted to punish her husband’s bastard and Lex didn’t know that she existed until Lillian had her drowned.”

“Jesus,” Lena whispered.

“We had no choice,” said 1610. “By the time we intervened that world’s Kara was dead and the evil Kara had invaded their timeline with an army of Kryptonian robots. Our mission demanded that we stop her, and she was simply too powerful. I did it. I erased her mind and left her an empty shell. There was no other way.”

Lena expected Kara to say something sharp, but her elder self said, “there is always another way. Kara taught me that. There has to have been something you could have done.”

“She is would have kept going. Conquered more timelines, done horrible things,” said 938. “You don’t understand the severity of our mission. The multiverse is sick and if its health isn’t maintained, entire branches, millions of universes, cease to exist. Everything that makes them unique is erased.”

“Why?” said Lena.

“Fifty two years ago, sidereal time, something happened in one of the universes, one a lot like mine,” said 938. “Another metahuman with a power profile like mine lost the woman he loved, and it… broke something. It created a sympathetic cascade that damaged the multiverse in a fundamental way, like a blight spreading through a tree. It set something free in the spaces between the spaces we know.”

“It is in our house now,” said 1610.

“I don’t care about any of this,” said the elder Lena, standing over the cyborg Kara. “It doesn’t matter. My Kara, my darling, would never agree to this and I make this choice for her. She would rather I let her go than do something like this.”

“There’s no one left in that body to harm,” said 1610. “It is an empty shell, and even if she did somehow return she’d having nothing to go back to. Her world is wrecked and she almost destroyed another and we couldn’t simply set her free with the knowledge to open more portals and do more damage. This is the best solution for everyone- including you and your Kara.”

The elder suddenly looked confused. She turned to Lena.

“What do I do? I don’t know what to do. Is she right? If we do this am I murdering another Kara to save mine or am I just solving a problem?”

No one spoke.

Kara broke the silence as she caressed the back of her hand down the cold cheek of her cyborg duplicate.

“There is another way.”

“There is no other way,” said 938. “Your cyborg counterpart will die if we don’t do this.”

Kara looked at Lena.

“We don’t need to use another Kara’s body. We can make one of our own. It happened before, we just have to repeat the same circumstances in a controlled environment.”

“Kara, are you talking about making another Harun-El clone of yourself?” said Lena.

Elder Lena, 1610, and 938 all spoke at once.

“A what?”

“Harun-El?”

“Clone?”

[lewisvinga]

million dollar man | lance stroll x fem! reader

summary; in the world of her million dollar man, y/n can’t help but feel like a lost puppy and stick out like a sore thumb leading to mess of jumbled feelings.

warnings; insecurities esp around money, reader is mentioned to be a healthcare worker/nurse

word count; 1.2k

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minseok-smaus @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri @graciewrote @xoscar03

note; i can’t tell yall the amount of times i’ve thought of this fic ever since i started the born to die series 😭😭😭😭 but i rlly let out my obsession w these luxuries out here 🫣🫣

‘born to die’ series masterlist.

masterlist !

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“Why don’t you wear your new necklace? The one that your fiancé got you.”

Y/n could hear the smile in Lance’s voice as she stood in the bathroom adding the finishing touches to her makeup. “Yeah, because a Serpent around my neck would match the floral look.” She snorted, referring to the Bulgari necklace he had gotten her the week prior.

“I mean, you haven’t worn it yet. Where else would you showcase it for the first time other than your own engagement party?”

“Because it doesn’t match.”

What she said was partially the truth. The serpent necklace didn’t match her 3 thousand-dollar Oscar De La Renta dress.

It didn’t match with the gold Rolex on her left wrist or the diamond-encrusted Cartier love bangle, Juste un Clou, and the Van Cleef bracelet on her right wrist. Nor did it match the giant diamond engagement ring adorning her ring finger.

It didn’t match her white Louboutin heels nor did it go with the 20-motif Van Cleef Alhambra necklace.

It didn’t match her and that was her issue.

Y/n never even dreamt of the lifestyle she had been living ever since dating Lance. It was something so unattainable. The expensive bags, jewelry, cars, and private jets, she never even dared to dream of.

She grew up middle class, her parents having enough to be able to put food on the table, and have decent clothes, but not enough to earn them all the luxuries she has now. Sure, her nursing job earned her a decent amount of money, but the necklace her boyfriend had gotten her cost more than her yearly salary and that said enough.

She remembered the look on the faces of Lance’s extended family when they found out she did not come from another rich family and was just a regular pediatric nurse. They immediately assumed she was just with him for money. They talked and talked.

The gossip would become worse whenever Y/n would show up with a new bag or bracelet. She hated it.

She remembered when Lance decided to throw her a huge birthday party. He paid for most of it even if she protested. Not to mention, he gifted her not one but two Hermes mini Kelly’s. She remembered the looks on his aunt's face as she held a rare picnic mini Kelly.

“One for the money, two for the show, right?” He joked, chuckling at her shocked face, and pressed a kiss against her cheek. “I love you, honey.”

“You’re unbelievable, Lance. I love you.”

The same picnic Kelly bag he gifted her was the one she decided to wear with her floral dress. A springtime engagement called for a floral theme engagement party, hence the dress.

Y/n stares at herself in the mirror after applying her Dior lipgloss. She looked like a million-dollar man. She looked so strange like she was unrecognizable. She had the dream life of so many but had no idea why she felt so upset or heartbroken.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t realize Lance had been calling her. “Honey, what’s the matter?” He asked, concern in his voice as he walked into the bathroom all dressed in an expensive suit.

“I hope you’re not getting cold feet before our engagement part.” He joked but his smile immediately fell at her silence. “Are you?”

“No! No!” Y/n quickly exclaimed, turning around and settling her hand on his shoulder. “I’m not getting cold feet, Lance. I want to marry you and I will marry you. It’s just…” Her voice trailed off and she sighed. “It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid if it’s bothering you.” He mumbled, grasping her hands. His dark eyes were filled with concern as his thick brows furrowed up. She still seemed hesitant to tell him what was on her mind. “Hey, I won’t judge you for what’s on your mind.”

Y/n sighed again as Lance gave her hands a gentle squeeze. “You know I didn’t grow up with this. All of these luxuries, expensive jewelry, even more expensive cars and bags. My nursing job can only cover so much. It can’t cover a quarter of what you give me.”

“And I don’t care!” He exclaimed, “You’re my fiancée. I want to spoil you. It’s my duty to spoil you. I don’t care what they think, I-”

“But I’ve seen the way your aunts stare at me.” She mumbled, looking down at her Louboutins. “I’ve heard their whispers. They just think I’m a gold digger who is only marrying you to have this lifestyle but I couldn’t give two shits about all of this! We could be struggling with money and I’d still want to be with you.”

She sighed as she let go of his hands. She turned around to look at herself through the mirror. “I see a stranger when I’m dressed up like this. I stick out whenever I’m with your family and they all know it. They never try to hide their whispers and they’re right. I don’t fit into this world, Lance. I look like a million dollar man but why does my heart still feel broken?”

“Y’know what I see?” Lance asked as he took a step closer to her, placing his hand on her waist. “I see the most gorgeous woman. Someone so unique and special that she’s like an exotic flower.” He chuckled, running his finger over the strap of her floral dress.

“I see someone who is so brilliant she used her brain to study to help children in need. I see someone with a heart so big, that she works extra shifts just to spend time with her patients no matter how tiring the week has been.” He continued, gently fixing a strand of her hair which made her let out a soft chuckle. “I see my fiancée, the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with despite not growing up in ‘my world’.”

Lance leaned over and kissed Y/n’s cheek. “I see the woman who has always been by my side. I see the woman who will be the mother of my children. I see the woman who has stolen my heart from the day I bumped into her in that cafe.”

He spun her around so she was facing him. She rested her hands on his shoulder once again for stability as his hands held onto her waist. “I don’t see someone strange. I see you.”

She takes a deep breath, her pink lips curled into a smile as her eyes fill with tears. “You always know how to take a girl's breath away, don’t you?”

“Just yours.”

Y/n leaned up and pulled him close to kiss him, not caring if they were going to be made to their own engagement party. “I love you so much, Lance.”

“I love you so much, Y/n. More than anything else in this world.”

She leaned back down with a wide smile on her lips. She takes a deep breath and quickly glances in the mirror to ensure her makeup is still intact.

“Well, we can’t be late to our own engagement party.” Y/n chuckled, grabbing her bag and turning back to Lance. “Shall we go, my million dollar man?”

He kisses the top of her head as a smile matching hers appears on his lips. “Let’s go, my honey.”

[tarnishedsilverjewelry]

Happy New Year! I was wondering if you could write a Smoke x reader about the reader at a New Year's party at Johnny's house and Smoke tries to get close to the reader so he could give her a kiss on New Year's?

New years kiss

A/N: Im so sorry this is so late guys I had to draft this like 7 times bc I hated the dialogue I wrote:( ALSO ugh Tomas my BABBYYY also I also made y/n chubby bc I said so. ALSO HARUMI IS HERE BC I LOVE HER🗣️🗣️🗣️

Warnings: possibly ooc smoke and use of Y/n. Don’t like Y/n? Don’t read it🤍

Johnny had invited Tomas, Kuai Liang, and Harumi to a New Years Even Party. Johnny had raved about seeing the ball drop and having a night of simple, good fun.

Harumi, who’d spent a good portion of her life in a far off corner of the world begged Kuai Liang to go, because she wanted to experience a true American New Years Eve celebration

Kuai hadn’t been able to say no to her, and agreed to go but asked Tomas to come too since the last time they’d had a celebration Bi Han had nearly killed her. They arrived in a week early and Johnny helped them put together more civilian type outfits instead of their ninja uniforms

Tomas shifted uncomfortably in his clothes, he hadn’t had many chances to wear clothes like these since his adoption. Kuai was in a similar situation, but managed to get past it when Harumi would twirl around in front of Johnny giant mirror “Do I look American?” She asked, twirling herself into his brothers arms

“I was going to say ravishing, my lotus.” Tomas walked out of the room to ignore their affectionate nature.

Kuai Liang was dressed in a plain white undershirt with a long sleeved deep navy button up with matching pants and a brown belt with a brassy-gold buckle, matching brown dress shoes. Kuai Liangs sleeves had been roiled up to his elbow and the top few buttons left unbuttoned so everyone could see his undershirt peaking out. Johnny had lent him a gold watch and a few necklaces to wear to tie the outfit together.

Harumi had been handed a tight black dress with sparkling silver straps, a pair of black high heels (which she took a few minutes to actually be able to walk in), and a sparkly headband to help keep her hair back.

Tomas had a pair of black dress pants on, with black dress shoes, a black belt with a silver buckle, white undershirt and a black long sleeved button up. He kept his shirt fully buttoned but still rolled his sleeves up to his elbows. Instead of gold jewelry he had a silver watch, a few bangle bracelets on the other wrist, a few rings he saw in the mall, and some of Johnnys silver necklaces

They had helped Johnny set up the party and greet the catering staff he’d hired to bartend and to feed everyone. People started arriving in groups quickly, and the music was blaring loudly. Harumi and Kuai Liang were dancing together happily, while Tomas uncomfortably slipped out onto the balcony

The music was still just as loud, but being away from the crowd soothed him somewhat. The beer bottle in his hands was mostly full, it being a drink he didn’t even like, clanked gently against the railing.

Happily detached from the crowd he saw a small group of women being welcomed by Johnny. He greeted them with big smiles and hugs, and directed them to a coat closet. One however stuck out to him. Long hair pulled into a slicked back bun, chunky gold earrings, a tight black sleeveless dress that clung to every curve of her torso, and her thick ass. The dress ended just below her bottom, and her thighs were clad in red tights, and she wore a pair of small dark red kitten heels with pointed toes and a shiny silver buckle on the top of them

Tomas felt his mouth dry out, and his pants tighten. By the elder gods she was gorgeous. Her small but plump lips were pulled into a wide smile that bared all her teeth.

Gods even her teeth were nice. He’d seen plenty of straight and glaringly white teeth in arriving groups. But hers weren’t. They were yellowed and slightly crooked, and fit her face much better than the ‘veneers’ as Johnny called them.

He needed to be close to her. Hear her voice, her laugh. He had to. Every fiber of his being was vibrating to be near her. He needed to see the crinkles around the corners of her eyes up close, see the smile lines around her pretty mouth, feel every curve of her body with his hands, feel her hands running over his body gently

She walked over to the bar tender and was poured a glass of red wine before walking over to her friends and talking happily to them. He watched them for a half an hour from the balcony, eyes focused spilt on her when she turned her head to look at him.

Tomas felt his eyes widen and face burn in embarrassment, he dropped his eyes to the floor as the air in his body left him. He hadn’t even gathered the courage to talk to you and he’d already wasted his chances. Fuck.

Slowly he looked up, eyes zeroing in on you easily, and you smiled at him. Tomas felt the blush on his face worsen, but he smiled back. He even managed a little wave, that made you smile harder your pudgy frame shaking from laughter. But you waved back.

You on the other hand were giggling with your friends, who were trying to get you to talk to him. “Go talk to him! He’s seriously like…transfixed by you!” One said. Another joked “I knew you were secretly a siren!” You snorted. “Oh…I don’t know. You know guys don’t really like me for…me.” You admitted ashamed.

Your free hand pressed against your bulging stomach, and all the memories flooded through your mind. “Girl, I love you. But those people suck. They’re painfully insecure douches who don’t deserve the time of day! Look, Johnnys your cousin he invited everyone! Ask him about the guy, since he never invites anyone but people he knows and trusts!” Your third friend said, already waving your older cousin over.

Johnny was your rock through every guy who’d hurt you, and you’d stuck with him even before he started directing the Mortal Kombat movies and his fame skyrocketed. “Hey! What’s up?” He asked throwing an arm over your shoulders. “Who’s that guy? We’re trying to get Y/n to talk to him! He’s like…in awe of her!” Johnny followed her finger and huffed.

“That my friend Tomas, he and his brother and sister-in-law are visiting from Japan. He’s really nice, and as much as I’d like to say stay away from him..I don’t think you will.” He admitted, pressing a kiss to your head and walked back over to welcome the last group of people to arrive

You were about to go over and talk to him, when a very familiar song came on. “Come on! You can talk to him after our song!” You laughed and let them pull you on the dance floor. You laughed happily, eyes straying over to Tomas who now sat on the couch staring at you

You danced happily with your friends, unaware of Tomas who was currently wiggling his way through the crowd of dancing people. His eyes scanned you up and down enjoying the way your body moved with the music.

It seemed your friend had saw him approaching and ended up slowly pushing you back towards him as the song went on, because one half step backwards and you were standing back-to-chest with him

His face was a deep red and his hands were stiffly by his side. You admired his face, and made the choice to grab his hands and place them on your hips. Immediately his grip tightly slightly, then you leaned back into him and continued to dance with the music. Tomas followed your lead

This continued for a few songs, and not once did your leave stray from each others face. His hands however strayed from your hips, and roamed your sides, shoulders, hands, stomach. Like he was mapping out your body with his hands.

You were a bit shorter than him, being 5’4” to his 6’1, and came up to just past his shoulders in your shoes. Tomas craned his neck to face you, and he struggled to not tear you away from the dance floor and keep you for himself

His hands pulled you to be more flush against him, and your arms went up to loop around his neck. Your fingers brushed abound the back of his neck and his jawline softly. Tomas leaned his head down to rest his forehead against yours and closed his eyes.

Your hands continued to brush against his neck, and his continued to wander over your body. You didn’t close your eyes, instead opting to map out his face in close detail.

You two were alone in your own world, when suddenly a hand try to pull you from Tomas. Startled you looked over to see a man, nondescript and boring grinning at you. He was saying something, but you could care less. Then he tried to pull you away from Tomas (who was surprisingly strong), but Tomas smacked his hand away with a glare.

Gently, so gently, Tomas pushed you behind him and away from the man. The man took this opportunity to try and pick a fight with Tomas and when people swarmed around them you were pushed off of the dance floor.

Your friends joined you and took you to the bathroom. There, helped you fix your hair, and pelted you with questions. “We were dancing, and it was like it was just us. Alone in our own world when this guy, who’s probably been deemed the new big thing because he looked young, tried to pull me away from him!” You scoffed, looking in the mirror to fix your lipstick. “But Tomas smacked his hand away, and pushed me behind him and then he tried to like attack him! I got pushed aside by the crowd.” You huffed.

You desperately wished that you knew where he was, or that he was here with you. You wanted to feel his hands on you again, hear his voice. But instead you let your friends pull you around and socialized. Eyes swiveling around for Tomas

Tomas pushed the man off him, and blocked his punches and kickes until Johnny came over and threw the guy out. A few women then turned their sights on him and swarmed him. Uncomfortably he sent Kuai Liang a desperate glance, and was thankfully saved by his brother and sister.

He departed from them and started walking laps around the house, looking for you. His eyes were slightly frantic. What if you’d gotten hurt? What if you were mad at him.

The night continued on, 9 turned to 10 and 10 to 11 and he still couldn’t find you. He’d searched every corner of every room, every crowd, the bar the catering staff, he’d looked everywhere he could think of. He glanced at his borrowed watch, 11:36, and frowned deeper. Kuai Liang and Harumi had migrated to the back yard where it was quieter. He’d seen them on his many laps around the house.

Tomas did three more laps around the house, and growled in frustration. Had you left? What if you left with someone else? What if you didn’t want to see him again? He chilled the time again. 11:49.

Finally accepting his defeat he took his original position on the balcony, staring out at the hoard of people. A part of him hoped to see you in the crowd, and rush down to you. He deflated further and checked the time again. 11:52.

At 11:54 he thought he saw you in the crowd, but she wore blue tights not red. 11:56 he saw your friend group lingering in the backyard, but no you.

He checked his watch again. It was 11:57, when he heard a little gasp. “It’s you.” Whirling around he was met with the sight of you. “It’s me.” He nodded dumbly. “I’ve been looking for you. I thought you left or got kicked out.” You admitted, taking a step forward. “No, I’ve..also been looking for you. I thought you left.” He laughed, slightly embarrassed.

You took another step forward, and his hands regained their place on your hips. “Y/n. My name is Y/n.” You said suddenly. “Ah, my name is Tomas. I…” he trailed off, voice failing. You smiled and wrapped your arms around his neck again. He pulled you against his chest again. He glanced at his watch again. 11:59.

“Would…you like to be my New Years kiss?” He watched a smile stretch across your pretty face. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to do a lot more than just kiss you. But sure. I’ll be your new years kiss.” Tomas blushed red, and you snorted.

“10! 9! 8! 7! 6! 5! 4! 3! 2! 1! Happy new years!”

Distantly, Tomas was aware of fireworks exploding and people cheering. But all he could feel was bliss. Your lips were soft, and the gloss you wore tasted like cupcakes. Your lips locked onto his left Tomas feeling a feeling of pure euphoria. Pulling away, you pressed your face into his shoulder. “Happy New Years, Y/n” “Happy New Years, Tomas.”

Bonus! Dialogue between kombatants

Tomas: Thank you for inviting me to your party Johnny. I had a wonderful time!

Johnny: More like you and Y/n had a wonderful time!

Johnny: Still can’t believe you’re hooking uo with my baby cousin!

Tomas: We’re not just hooking up!…Whatever that is

Raiden: You’ll have to introduce us to your new infatuation, Tomas

Tomas: Yes I think you’ll get along very well

Tomas: Do you know what ‘hooking up’ is Johnny says Y/n and I do that

Raiden: Uhhh..ask Johnny

[musetheapothecary]

can I see?

shidou ryuusei x fem!reader (nsfw)

She smears a sticky coat of gloss over her lips, marvelling at the rosy glow as she blows her reflection a kiss–the action interrupted by a fit of giggles. Music pumps out through the speaker by the sink and echoes off the sun-drenched tiles. She hums along to it, hips swaying and head bobbing, feeling unbearably light and borderline euphoric. 

A hot breeze blows in through the open window, carrying with it the bustling sounds of the city below and the scent of her neighbours cooking.

She tosses her hair, the bangles on her wrist chiming pleasantly with each motion, eyeing her permanent smile in the mirror.

There are flecks of toothpaste too high up to be caused by her and she clicks her tongue, but even her boyfriend’s messiness can’t ruin this moment for her.

It’s a Friday evening. In summer. And she’s going to see three of her favourite people in the world after a day of lounging about on the balcony with her book and a steady supply of iced matcha. Life could literally not get any better for her right now.

And then the front door opens. With a slam. Closely followed by the clatter of shoes.

“Baby!” Shidou calls, and she can hear the grin in his voice. “You still here?”

She huffs a laugh, smudging the glitter across her lids–artfully, of course–before raising her voice to answer. “In the bathroom, Ryu.”

Before she can turn to greet him he’s thrown his arms over her shoulders and buried his face in the crook of her neck, wicked eyes peering up at her through their reflection, right before–

“Ouch, Ryu–Christ, what is wrong with you?” The bite hurts, but her tone is light and buoyed with laughter. 

“Not sure you’ve got time for that list, pretty girl,” he says, before licking up the side of her throat, canines flashing white in the artificial lighting. She wonders if he can taste her perfume. “What’s got you all dressed up?”

He starts biting along the shell of her ear and pressing searing, distracting kisses over her cheek and temple, smearing her highlighter across his mouth. A rouged circle blossoms where he’d bit down, promising a bruise she has no hope of covering–not that she’s inclined to do so. 

“I told you yesterday, Ryu.” She rolls her eyes in an attempt to hide the way they threaten to tip back into her head. She digs a hand into his hair–soft, and sweetly scented, which means he’s absolutely been nicking her products again–and tugs in retaliation. All it does is make him moan, obnoxiously loud, right into her ear. “The girls and I are checking out that new food market, they’ve got live music tonight.”

Shidou hums, arms tightening around her waist. One of his hands spans nearly the entirety of her stomach and he uses it to pull her little blue halter neck up, up, up, until he’s cradling her bare chest in his palm, palming and groping without a single ounce of shame. 

He sniffs her, like a hound, long pink tongue trapped between his teeth as he grins. “Fuck you smell so good.”

She spins–not without difficulty–in his grip, looping her arms up and over his shoulders. His hand remains in place, the other coming up to cradle her waist. His hair is still damp, blonde and pink falling messily over his brow in the way she likes. There’s a dusting of red over the top of his cheeks and his skin is hot to the touch.

“Did you steal my shampoo again?”

He ignores her question, pressing his mouth to hers, messy and open mouthed, all tongue and teeth and lust.

She whines, feeling her lip gloss smearing over her chin and cheeks, and mumbles a stream of profanity into their kiss. He licks over her molars and sucks on her tongue before pulling back with a satisfied smirk. 

“You sure you wanna go out like that?” He presses a thumb and forefinger to the hollows of her cheeks and squeezes, giving her head a gentle shake. “Yer all messy, baby.”

“Bcs ‘f yew,” she garbles out through the pout she’s been forced into. “Ge’off.”

Shidou releases her face with a laugh before crowding her up against the bathroom sink, fingers dipping beneath the hem of her skirt before reaching around to yank her up onto the counter. “Oh yeah?” He presses his body flush with hers and cackles at her responding shiver. “Did I get you all messy? Can I see?”

[deantfwinchester]

A New Chapter

Pairing: No-Outbreak!AUJoel x Teacher!Reader (pregnant)

Moving forward in the narrative a bit y'all. Our girl is pregnant now, so we're a couple years into their marriage. The premise of this one's a little goofy, but he looks so pretty in the Gladiator trailer I couldn't help myself.

Summary: You and Sarah go Halloween costume hunting and find the perfect family costume, much to Joel's chagrin. He'll do just about anything for his little girl, though. :)

Warnings: fluff as per usual. a teeny bit of angst and emotional h/c, but so so fluffy. a couple of suggestive little innuendos for fun, but very much PG as usual.

A/N: I'll make a little timeline at some point explaining how these all fit into the same universe, but they're definitely the same couple so far! I've got plenty more planned for these two, and I'm excited to keep going, but I've also got a kind of multi-chap AU situation I may try to write? Idk, guess we'll see which bulleted fic I'm inspired to expand next, lol.

Word Count: 3.3k

__________________________________________________________

“You can’t be serious,” Joel looks at you, exasperated. 

“Serious as a heart attack,” you respond, smiling wide. 

“Hell no!” he says, amused at the very idea. 

“What, Sarah’s got that precious little goddess dress from the costume store, and they were right next to it!” you exclaim. 

___________________________

You’ve just presented Joel with a gold and white roman general costume you found while you and Sarah were shopping for Halloween costumes. You took her to the costume shop after picking her up from school and the two of you were over the moon. Halloween is your favorite holiday hands down - you and Sarah have always had that in common. It was one of the first things you bonded over, and Joel was thrilled that the two of you wanted to do that together. You hadn’t been looking forward to finding a maternity costume though - it was still early September, but you knew one that fit well right now would be pretty uncomfy by the end of October.

You and Sarah walk a few aisles in before stopping in your tracks at a beautiful mythology display - long dresses and beautiful accessories with the names of different Greco-Roman goddesses in a row, with a family-costume display showing mannequins of an adult man, adult woman, and a teen girl and young boy. The young boy’s costume had a shield and chest plate of worn-looking plastic, and the teen girl’s costume was a long ombré-colored dress with little gold appliqués printed on the hem.

Sarah was enchanted. And you were enamored with the childlike wonder she felt touching the low-quality polyester and spandex blend. The adult women’s costume mirrored the toga-like shape of the girl’s, but was one-shouldered and of a different shade. Sarah saw them and immediately knew what she wanted to be for Halloween this year - a princess in this goddess dress and you an empress to match. The names on these costumes were inaccurate as hell, but you weren’t here to hold Spirit Halloween to historical accuracy or academic integrity. The look on her face made it clear you couldn’t say no - especially when you saw the Maternity option hanging in a thick plastic bag next to it closed with a plastic snap. At least this costume would hang loosely no matter how much you’re showing by Halloween. Might even drive Joel a little crazy. 

Once you agreed to it, you decided just the two of you couldn’t do it alone - not when there was only one member of your family to be left out. You grab the Adult Men’s costume hanging next to the mannequin - it was different from the boy’s, not some sort of battle armor, but labeled Emperor to match the adult women’s. It’s white and lined in gold leaf appliqués just like the goddess costumes. It's a beautiful costume, with a cape and a little caged skirt thing hanging over the tunic. You’re especially fond of the myriad golden accessories accompanying this costume - wide bangles and a little headband of golden leaves. You’re torn between cackling at how much Joel would undoubtedly protest such an elaborate costume and practically salivating at the image of him wearing it. He’d look ridiculously hot in this costume — you’d just need to convince him. 

Joel isn’t totally averse to costume-wearing, especially for his girls’ favorite holiday. He would put on a little something here and there to appease you or Sarah - maybe a cape or a few accessories. You’d seen pictures from one Halloween a few years before you met them with Sarah in a pretty little pink fairy costume and Joel in a much too small pair of wings and a feathery tiara, holding a matching wand. Seeing it never fails to make you smile.

Joel is a wonderful father to Sarah - he can always tell her No when necessary, whether it has to do with her health and safety, development, or due to financial constraints, but always explains to her why. As much as he’d love to spoil her to pieces, he wants to make sure she grows up with a realistic understanding of the world around her, and understands both her privilege and the difference between Want and Need. The way he communicates with her and makes parenting choices with a focus on the kind of person she is and will become is in large part what drew you to him - to a place where you not only felt comfortable being with him, but having a child with him. You are more than confident he’ll be a wonderful father to your next child as well — he’d made that clear when you’d first found out.

When it wasn’t necessary to tell Sarah No, however - he couldn’t ever look his little girl in the eye and resist. Letting her polish his nails, play with glittery make-up, and wearing little wings to match her own were just a few of the things he’d done to make her smile. If the only reason to say “No” was that he didn’t want to, well it simply wasn’t reason enough.

With this knowledge in mind, you were fairly certain Joel could be convinced to put on this elaborate costume - maybe with some work boots instead of the mannequin’s little sandals, though. And a pair of shorts under the skirty pieces, probably. Once you and Sarah have picked out the shades you want and spent way too much time staring at the wall of accessories for your own costumes, you leaf through the men’s costume bags for Joel’s size and snag one off the rack. Sarah’s eyes go wide when you turn around and raise your eyebrows at her, and a huge grin spreads across her face - she’s laughing excitedly at just the prospect of her dad in this elaborate costume, and shaking her head vigorously while agreeing - it has to come home. 

____________________________________________

“C’mon baby. Y’all’s are beautiful but this?,” says Joel, gesturing to the elaborate white costume you’ve removed from the bag and hung up to present to him in all its gilded glory. “This is insane. Looks more like a damn wedding dress than a Halloween costume.”

“Oh but Joel, it’s so beautiful! I know it’s a little elaborate, but Sarah and I are already gonna be matching. We want you to do it with us! Dress as a family for the party,” you plead, and you can see his resolve beginning to crack. He shakes his head, both hands on his hips, and glowers at you, though it lacks any real contempt.

“Darlin’ I think it’s precious that you and Sarah got these little matching costumes. Hell, nothing could make my heart happier than seeing you two looking so gorgeous together in these pretty dresses she chose. But y’all are my beautiful little stars of the show, let’s be honest,” he finishes, placing his hand heavily on your hip and drawing you closer. “You, Sarah, and her perfect little sister on the way,” he grins, resting his other hand on your belly and locking eyes with you. 

“That’s kinda the thing though, Joel. This is the last Halloween we can do this, just the three of us. Every Halloween after this will be a different kind of special, but it’ll never just be us and Sarah again after this year. You know she’d love it, no matter what the reason,” you say with a slight smirk, knowing you and Sarah both want this, at least in part, to mess with Joel. 

He locks eyes with you,and his are gentle and wistful at the idea. You’re both elated at the mere thought of the future ahead with your growing family, but the change is a big shift for all of you. You worry about Sarah more than anything. You’ve had this conversation a couple of times already — the age gap between Sarah and the baby is so big, you just worry she’ll feel left out when you two get busy, or get hyper focused on the baby those first few months. 

You aren’t afraid to admit that you’re scared — scared you won’t be able to give the baby everything she needs or scared you won’t bond like you should. It’s a big relief to you, a new mom, that this won’t be Joel’s first rodeo. He’s already assuaged your worries on multiple occasions during this pregnancy and preparation period with his existing knowledge in child rearing. There’s not a man in the world better suited to fatherhood, and his quiet confidence and reassurance when your anxieties arise comfort you more than he’d ever understand.

But the fear is still there — fear of not being enough, leaving Joel to feel like he’s alone in this all over again, even with you standing beside him. You’re especially scared you won’t ensure Sarah continues to get all the attention and love she needs. You know fully well that your love can only multiply — it does so a little each year a new set of students arrives at your classroom door — but your attention can unfortunately divide, and sometimes will, despite your best efforts. 

Yes you both want to mess with Joel a little with your request that he wear this elaborate costume that’ll make him a bit bashful; but more than anything, you want him to do it with the two of you for Sarah. To make that choice to remind her that the two of you would do anything for her — as goofy as the request may be — no matter how much your lives change in the coming years. You want to do as many special things for her as possible beforehand — and you need his help for this one. 

“I just — I know it’s silly, but I want her to enjoy this chapter as much as possible before things change. And I know you do too, I’m just…,” you look down at your feet as you say this, unable to find the words to continue. Your eyes mist over as you think about it, and before you know it, you’re in his arms, face pressed tightly against his chest. His hand holds the back of your head, pulling you close, thumb moving gently back and forth over your crown, soothing the concerns he could see encroaching as you spoke. 

“Sweetheart.‘S not silly at all,” he pauses, searching for the words to help you find solace in your unease. “I know you’re worried about that, I do. And do you know how much it means to me that this is on your mind? That you’re busy growing a little person in there, having to think about mothering a baby for the first time, and she’s at the top of your list?” Joel stares at you with a sincerity that aches in your chest before he continues, “And that’s why I want you to remember that she knows. You’re an incredible mother already, baby, and none of that’s gonna change. The fact that you’re concerned about it in the first place is enough. I really believe that, baby. Sarah’ll always know that we’re here.”

You’re crying for real now, burying your face in his chest again as he squeezes you tight, resting his head on yours as it lies in the crook of his neck. He closes his eyes and holds you for a bit longer, slightly swaying back and forth to soothe you. He knows the hormones are playing a part in your worry and reaction, but also knows better than to identify them as such. No matter the cause, you’re experiencing these feelings — and no matter how fleeting they are, he’ll make sure you get what you need. 

After a minute or two of holding you in silence, Joel pulls his head back and looks down at you, rubbing your back to rouse you from your trance. You look up at him to see a small smile on his face and enough warmth in his eyes to have you weeping all over again.

“Alright darlin’, let’s go give this ridiculous getup a shot,” he says, gesturing toward the bedroom with his head.

“Really Joel?,” you ask, voice filled with hope and gratitude. 

“Course baby. If I’m gonna wear it, gonna damn well make sure it fits right.”

“Wait’ll you see the accessories!” you say excitedly, wiping your eyes and sniffing back the last of your tears.

“Oh good lord,” he huffs out, rolling his eyes playfully before grabbing your hand and leading you to the bedroom, costume in hand.

______________________________________________________

~ Halloween Night ~

“Have I told you yet how gorgeous you look in this costume?” you ask in Joel’s ear as Sarah runs ahead of the two of you toward the door to Tommy’s. 

“Only about seven times since I first put it on, sweet girl,” he says to you through a smile, chuckling at your insistence. “Better give it a rest, or my head’s gonna be too big to fit through the door by the time we get home.” He smirks at you, squeezing your hand in his as you cross the yard. 

“Ah, I think it’ll fit just fine,” you reply, rubbing a gentle hand against his chest. “Did I tell you how sexy you are tonight yet?,” you whisper closer to his ear now, smiling while you do it, grinning wider as a light blush touches his cheeks before he smiles at you as well.

“Hmm, I’m not sure. Mighta mentioned it once or twice.” His brows furrow as he feigns consideration. “I’d much rather talk about how incredible you look tonight, darlin’,” he whispers into your neck before pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder, all too softly for the hormones rushing through your system. He knows it too, when your eyes go wide and your own cheeks flush, and is far too satisfied with himself for your liking. Years into your relationship and he can still drive you wild with so little — you have plenty of tricks up your sleeve as well, but the second trimester has been giving him an unfair advantage lately. 

Before you can gather your thoughts, you’re behind Sarah at Tommy’s door as he opens it to greet you, cowboy hat on and beer in hand. Otherwise, still dressed in his work flannel and jeans. Damn, Joel’s gotta be jealous right now. 

Tommy hugs Sarah and ushers her inside before looking at the two of you, eyes widening as he takes in Joel’s appearance, pretending to hide the elation growing on his face at seeing his brother in such an elaborate outfit. 

“Well ain’t that a lotta gold? Not sure what I expected when Sarah told me, but this wasn’t it,” he says, biting back a laugh. “Gotta say brother, didn’t think you had it in ya,” he says, clapping Joel on the shoulder, unable to conceal his entertained grin any longer. Joel rolls his eyes in response, and along with Tommy, looks to you.

“Now you look beautiful honey. Though I gotta say, if you’re goin for one of the Vestal Virgins, I think you may be in trouble,” he jokes, looking down at your growing bump and pulling you in for a hug.

“Aren’t you a riot,” you say flatly, rolling your eyes and smiling at his comment before hugging him back, “Hi Tommy. Y’all having fun in here?”

He moves aside so you and Joel can enter the house and Joel follows after Sarah to grab you both a drink. He’ll grab a beer like his brother, while you’re relegated to a soda without caffeine for the time being. 

“Course we are!” He waits until Joel moves further away and leans toward you with a mischievous glint in his eye. “I have to say — Thank you. Thank you so much. For that,” he gestures toward Joel at the little drink bar with Sarah. 

You chuckle a little with him, “You’re welcome. Go easy on him tonight though, alright? I know he’d much rather be wearing what you are right now,” you ask.

“Alright, alright, I promise. But please take pictures. Take so many pictures,” he laughs, and you laugh with him. “Seldom I get to see my brother like this, I’m gonna need a record of it.”

“Oh yeah, that’s kinda the idea. Speaking of which, you really put some effort in on the costume for tonight, huh?,” you ask, unimpressed, but good-natured.  

“Hey, I’m hosting! A little busy gettin’ everything together. Besides, a cowboy hat always suits me,” he gives a winning smile before changing the subject. “Now how are you and my little niece doing tonight?,” he asks, moving a hand down to your belly and bending a bit to greet the little one from outside. You place your hand on top of his and move it over to the side where you’ve been feeling the baby moving around lately.

“Say something to her again,” you instruct, “she’s been wiggling up a storm today.”

Tommy speaks to the baby above your belly again and you feel a little foot move ever so slightly against his hand. The way he lights up warms your heart, and you’re nearly overcome with emotion. He’s so excited to feel her that he hugs you to him once again. 

The two of you talk a bit longer about the newfound quickening, and you’re elated at his enthusiasm. It’s an incredible feeling, knowing just how much this baby will be loved — how surrounded she’ll be with family, and how happy everyone will be to have her there. Before you can think yourself into happy tears, Joel returns, smiling wide overhearing his brother’s excitement. He has a beer in one hand and an odd-looking green drink in the other, adorned with a black bendy draw covered in skulls. Your eyes widen as he hands you the cloudy slime-colored monstrosity. Tommy looks warily at the drink, and excuses himself to go talk to Sarah instead. 

“Oh Joel, what is that?!” you ask amused.

“Go on, try it darlin’” he says, gesturing for you to take a sip.The morning sickness had been rough in the beginning, and though it had tapered a few weeks back, you weren’t exactly looking to reawaken the nausea anytime soon. 

You sip with hesitation. It’s surprisingly tasty, a little fruity and fizzy. When you look down in it to find two gummy eyeballs staring back at you, bobbing around in the green. You laugh aloud at the sight, and Joel smiles so wide his eyes nearly close - he has two favorite sounds, and that’s one of them. Soon enough, he’ll have three. 

“It’s delicious, but what the hell is it?,” you ask through the laughter. 

“Sarah and I thought you might like a little Halloween mocktail to shake things up. I think it’s lemonade, sprite, and some of that blue stuff? Might be some pineapple or orange juice in there too, I think Sarah just started adding stuff. Gummy eyeballs were apparently a necessary garnish - she said they’re ‘on theme’ and that you’d agree.”

“She’s very right. Thank you sweetie, I appreciate it,” you say, taking another sip before kissing his cheek. You got him this time, and he grows a slight bashful blush at the public affection, but it’s never unwelcome. 

“Course. Happy to experiment for you anytime, sweetheart,” he grins back and you lose the battle, jaw dropping open a bit in response, eyes wide at him. 

He laughs again and puts his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side, before kissing you gently, just enough to keep the rise going. The two of you look over to see Tommy and Sarah talking excitedly, mixing some sort of other “punch,” this time in a shade of red. You raise your cup to Joel’s lips, and he takes a sip, looking surprised at the quality of their amateur mixology. You lean your head against his shoulder as you both look on at the party, wistfully watching your daughter enjoy herself. You stay there for a while, doing everything to remember the final Halloween of this beautiful chapter, just before a new one begins.

[hoiststowline]

_sunstreaker x reader [part two]

[a/n: this is a follow up from this fic!]

to keep time as well as search for proper company, a simple push of a button brings the radio to life, stereo blinking twice to alert the hour before switching to the local station. the volume was contained to his cabin, unheard to anyone in the surrounding area, particularly quiet so as to not disturb you.

the bangles eternal flame buzzes through staticky speakers, and to his displeasure it runs pretty much from the top of the song. every ounce of willpower was summoned to not immediately switch the channel, grimacing before conceding in a ridiculous fight.

it's a song, something that shouldn't send him over the edge so effortlessly. yet, every time the tune crosses his path, all he can think of is a past image of you, stumbling over lyrics after a beer too many. whether sunstreaker had decided he deserved your easygoing companionship or not was to be determined, though, he would always ensure that you arrived back home, safe and sound.

at the thought of you, he ingloriously tilts his left side-view mirror over, catching how your bedroom light still remained on. you had retreated back to bed almost twenty minutes ago, surely for someone so exhausted, one would have returned to sleep straightaway?

it wouldn't be his place to interrogate such irresponsible sleeping habits, as one would easily shift the blame his way. however in an indescribable and serpentine manner, he did deeply care for your well-being, and felt lingering guilt for being the reason you were startled awake.

his fear and unease was legitimate in reference to the likely ‘cons, but you weren't so inclined to believe such nonsense. he passes that fault to the late hour, with nothing more than his word to take that there was ever anything awry in the first place.

alarm overpowered his ability to appreciate the improvisational moment, briefly recalling the softness of your touch to try and wrangle yourself free. reluctantly, he'd admit that after the fear had subsided, there was something staggering about such a...compromising situation.

you wouldn't remember it in the morning, though it would jam up his processor every single instance he dared to even think about it.

he can't question you like this, already feeling vulnerable within the small perimeter, though perhaps another means of communication was achievable. it takes a few minutes of back and forth, weighing pros and cons before throwing it all to hell, dialing anyways.

to his simultaneous dismay and delight, you answer on the second ring, catching how you tug the blinds upward just before you pick up the call.

"You really did stay outside," for seemingly no reason it arrives as a whisper, alongside a breathy laugh. "I'm surprised."

"I said I was going to," sunstreaker returns, unbothered by your revelation of shock. "I've been trying to figure out what happened, but I couldn't help but notice your light was still on."

now blamelessly trying to catch your demeanor, it's rather perceptible that something else was on your mind. if it was in reference to his behavior, you would have been less likely to pick up the phone, and even more inconceivable that you are so placid.

“I was tired.” you try, dropping the blinds back in place before padding across your room.

“Was?” sunstreaker presses, a hint of concern lingering within his tone.

his disappointment arrives once more as the light switches off, though you continue on the other end. “I don’t know. It’s not you, I just can’t sleep. I’m kinda wide-awake.”

sunstreaker doesn’t need to know that it was him keeping you from getting a good nights rest, your cheeks still a touch red. how could anyone focus on sleep when he looked at you like that? straddled your waist and shushed you with a single finger over your mouth?

diabolical. he should have gathered enough context clues to discern your woes, but all your advances were lost on him. perhaps he recognized them but refused to acknowledge such sentiment, a familiar stab of a different knife.

“Don’t you have work in the morning?”

such a reminder punches you in the gut, turning to observe your clock that rests on the nightstand.

“Yeah…” you begin, wondering why because you never had any intentions to take the sentence anywhere else.

sunstreaker lets the sarcasm seep into his next interaction. “Yeah? And?”

“Are you going to stay out there all night?” you redirect, trying to get some of the heat off of you. “There’s no suspicious cars or whatever the hell you said.”

“Would you rather me, or the questionable-looking vehicles.” he scoffs, evidently over-confident in his expected reply. “I think the choice is laughably easy.”

“I’m not sure the second option even exists,” you say, practically hearing his voice box hitch. “So that one.”

you’re only teasing, hoping it translates as you crawl back into bed.

“You’re insufferable.” a groan, and then a softer retort. “Get some sleep. I’ll drive you over to work in the morning.”

understanding straight away that he’s instilling the fact he really is going to remain outside throughout night, you relent and offer thanks. “Okay. Thank you, and good night.”

“Good night.”