#Song Lyric Drabbles

[chrissv4mp]

𝜗𝜚 MINE.MP3

NAVIGATION ; OCT 17 — BONDAGE

WARNINGS: SMUT, fingering, overstimulation, squirting sub/dom dynamics, switch!billie, switch!reader, whiny!billie, established safeword (not used), sextape.

NOTES: erm... im gonna be BROKE by the time december comes with the converse & the isolated vocals record releases like 😓

WORDS: 3.1k

SUMMARY: Billie wants to try something new. However, you decide to flip the roles the second she thinks you're under her control.

TAGS: @mseilishmwah @sophloveswomen @mxqdii @livialifesblog @devynscomet @her-favorite @br4ttyeilish @wiidfi0wer33 @loving1dsworld @tan1shere @fallingforfalll2 @cierraonline @dandelions4us @scarlittt @ifwdominicfike @hrtsdollie @xoluvx

BILLIE EILISH × F!READER

The quiet beating of your girlfriends heart relaxed you, your eyes shutting slowly but not feeling like you were ready to fall asleep just yet. You wanted to be with her for a little while longer, her fingers running through your hair and massaging your scalp as you drew invisible circles and other shapes on the exposed skin of her stomach where her top rode up.

Your breathing seemed to be in sync until you felt the girl beneath you flinch and heard a quiet gssp. You let it pass by your mind as nothing, probably a laugh, but then again, you didn't hear her sweet chuckle. Maybe it was something scary on her phone? You shouldn't think too hard about it.

Still, you turn your head upwards, getting a small glimpse of her face through your half-closed eyelids. When she looked back at you, though, you caught something swirling within her irises.

She smiled at you, shutting off her phone and placing it on the nightstand just beside the bed before turning her whole attention towards you, "Gettin' tired, mama?" She asks, her voice soft as she tilts her head, taking her lower lip between her teeth gently.

You shake your head, your lips curving into a smile as you change your position so that you can see her entire face. You brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear, your fingertips gently grazing her cheek.

Billie raised an eyebrow as her hand left your hair, moving to toy with the belt that was still around her waist. She didn't want to get up and disturb your peace just for her own comfort. Besides, she'd make good use of it in later times.

Your eyes traveled down her body, stopping at her waist, where her hands carefully undid the buckle and slipped it through the first loop of her jeans. She doesn't miss your wandering eyes, her smirk growing wider as she pushes her hips up to slip it through the rest of the loops.

Instead of placing it on the nightstand or getting up to throw it back into the closet like she did every night, she leaves it lying in her lap, sitting up straight as her eyes move back to yours.

"Wanna try somethin' new," she whispers, eyes growing darker with each passing second. Your eyes dart from the belt to her own eyes, throat running dry at the husky tone of her voice, "If it's okay with you. I'm not forcing you."

Your heart flutters at her soft words, her mind still set on your own comfort and not hers. She always wanted to make sure you were okay with it before she did anything. You nodded before she could say anything else, no hesitancy in your movements at all.

Her hands are still on the belt, toying with the buckle and looping it around her finger at times, "Wanna..." She mumbles, breathing in deeply just at the thought, "Gonna tie you up. 'S'that okay, Y/N?"

The way your name falls from her lips makes your pussy throb, the excitement clear in your voice, "Yes." You hear her exhale deeply, biting her lower lip with much more pressure than before, eyeing you up and down as she grips the belt tighter in her hands.

Your breath caught in your throat as she scooted closer, taking her hands off the belt for the first time that night. Her large hands rested on your waist now, fingers slowly creeping under your shirt as she breathed against your neck, lips only inches away from your soft skin.

"So soft." She mutters, kissing your neck softly, smirking as she feels you tense up beneath her hands. They slowly pull your shirt over your body, scooting back for only a moment to take off your shirt and then instantly being back at your neck.

Her hands reach higher, noticing immediately that you hadn't put on a bra. Her smirk just widened, chuckling softly as she licked a stripe from your collarbone up to your neck, sucking on your skin, "Such a dirty girl. Not wearin' a bra today, huh?"

All you do is shake your head in response, too lost in your own thoughts to even realize that she couldn't see your face. You just got so dumb around her, especially when she touched you so gently. Your body trembles, lip tucked between your teeth as your hands move up to tug softly at Billie's hair.

Each time you looked at her, your eyes gravitated right to her hair. She just looked so good with it like that, but you also wanted to see it messy. You wanted to see her hair ruined and messy all because of you.

You groaned softly as Billie pinched your nipple, biting on your neck gently at the same time and sending multiple electric shocks all throughout your body, "C'mon.." You whimper.

Billie giggles quietly at your impatience, hesitantly pulling herself away from your neck to admire the marks scattered all across your skin. Her fingers grasped your chin gently, tilting your head back and blatantly ignoring your complaint, "Y'look so perfect. Wish you could see."

Her entire body freezes as those words leave her mouth, an idea popping into her brilliant mind. You were gonna see. You were gonna see every little bit of this, replay it if you wanted to. She wanted you to remember this.

It wasn't anything new, recording moments like these, and neither of you were against it. It made adrenaline rush through your veins, and when you saw Billie get up to retrieve her phone again, your thighs clenched together.

"Jus' wait—Stay there." Billie mumbles, almost too quiet for you to hear, but you make it out, your eyes already locked on her lips.

She leaves the belt on the bed before she disappears into the closet, rummaging around for the tripod she had gotten after the first time, the struggle being too much to do again.

As you blink, she's back again, and she's wearing nothing but the bloshs dogtag she always had around her neck. Blink. Her hands are carefully setting up her phone on the tripod. Blink. She's back in your arms, scattering kisses all down your body, her tongue leaving a trail of fire across your skin before wrapping her lips around your nipple.

Her free hand toys with the other, rolling the erect bud between her fingers as she moans against your skin. You swore you could get off just by her little moans, her own pleasure turning you on just as much.

Now, her cold hands are tugging at the waistband of your sweatpants, pulling them down quickly. She couldn't wait to watch you writhe and squirm beneath her hand, unable to do anything but whine and beg as you tug at the restraints.

Her head spun with multiple images of you, but none of them would compare to real life. She wanted to see it with her own eyes, not just her imagination. She hooks her fingers in the hem of your panties, pulling them back before letting the elastic snap against your skin.

She watches as you flinch, the action sending shivers down your spine as you support yourself on your elbows. The belt is back in her hand as you blink again, her hands unraveling it and letting it grow to its full length.

"Hands above your head." She demands, her soft tone from before completely gone. You never understood how she could switch personalities so quickly, but you'd never complain.

You comply with her, moving your hands above your head and feeling the skin of your knuckles graze the headboard. Billie bites her lip at your obedience, the wetness between her own thighs only increasing as she slowly pulls the thin fabric of your panties down your legs.

She's quick to throw them somewhere across the bedroom floor, crawling over your body and getting ready to tie your hands together. Her dogtag dangles above your face, grazing your cheek and causing goosebumps to rise on your body.

As her hands finally reach yours, you intertwine your fingers, eyes locking for a split second before you're on top of her, and she's beneath you. Her breath hitches, eyes wide as the belt is ripped away from her hands.

Your eyes are darker than before, the dim light of the lamp hitting the side of your face perfectly, illuminating the soft features of your face.

A whine erupts from Billie's throat, frustration boiling beneath her skin as she struggles in your tight grip. You slowly loop the belt around her wrists, tightening it by tugging it firmly, emitting a whimper from your girlfriend.

"Y/N.." She breathes, lips parted as her chest rises and falls in uneven breaths, staring up at you through her eyelashes as she huffs, "Baby.. Thought—'M'thought you said—"

"Didn't say I wanted you to tie me up. Just said..." Your hands leave her wrists, traveling down her sides and pulling her thighs apart, "That I wanted to try something new."

You lean close to her ear, lips grazing her skin, "Don't try to put words in my mouth, Bills." You whisper, hearing an annoyed groan come from her throat. Your palm comes down harshly on her inner thigh, feeling her body jolt beneath you.

The once dominant look in her eyes turned into a look of submission, her resolve crumbling at the palm of your hand. Her eyes are glossed over with lust, biting her bottom lip as her gaze travels down your body.

Her hips buck involuntarily, the cool air making her thighs shake momentarily. Your hands pull her thighs apart again, one hand staying planted on her thigh while the other creeps lower.

Your fingers dance along her inner thigh, tickling her skin softly and making her thigh flex. She was always so sensitive, so responsive and reactive. Your eyes glace up at hers for a moment, smirking before they rest back at her pretty pussy.

Her hips buck again, pussy clenching around nothing as she breathes through her nose roughly, "Use your words." You scoff, a hint of amusement in your tone as you slap her inner thigh again.

"Please, babygirl—Y/N, fuck—Just.. fuck me." She begs, her mind racing with a million different thoughts as she throws her head back against the pillows.

"Don't tease, just..." She trails off, the end of her sentence a mess of mumbles and incoherent words. A strained whimper leaves her lips as your index finger runs through her folds slowly, torturously.

Your heart beats fast, your fingers collecting all of her built-up arousal as your middle finger joins in on the fun. After a few swipes, you stop at her clit, rubbing slow, tight circles on the sensitive bud and watching as her thighs begin to tremble.

Her wrists fight against the belt, fingers grabbing at nothing but the air. Her chest rises and falls rapidly, head pushing against the soft pillow as her toes curl.

She can already feel her orgasm coming, and your fingers had only been on her for just a few seconds. The excitement had gotten her too worked up beforehand.

Your lengthy fingers finally slide into her cunt, the wet noise making your pussy throb and your head spin. You were already drunk on her, and you hadn't even had a taste yet, "'S'all for me?"

Billie nods, your words muffled in her ears, too caught up in the pleasure to even speak any coherent words to you. Her hips grind against your fingers, the pads of your digits rubbing against her spongey walls just right.

She cries out as you curl your fingers, the hot feeling running all down her body before finally gushing onto your fingers. She couldn't hold it, not when you moved your fingers so slowly, so softly.

You don't say a word, breathing heavy as you push the sweet seed back into her pussy, her thigh flexing beneath the hand that rested atop of it. Her moans are strained and guttural as your pace picks up. Your fingers slam against her cunt, filling her up to the brim just to pull back out almost completely, then repeating. Over and over again.

"'S'mean.." She cries out, voice quiet as she struggles against the belt, heart beating so fast it felt like it'd pop out of her chest any second now, "Fuck—Y'so.. meann.."

A chuckle emits from your throat at her mumbled words, your fingers only working harder to bring her her second orgasm. One that would have her seeing stars. Your fingers curl against her g-spot, rubbing her in just the right way.

Her back arches off the mattress, choking on her moans as she pulls at the belt around her wrists, her eyes squeezed shut as she tries to close her thighs. The hand on her thigh only grips her skin harsher, keeping her still as your fingers wildly pump into her pussy.

Your eyes travel up her body, landing on her tits and the way they rise and fall with each short breath she takes. A quiet moan falls from your lips at the sight of her, writing beneath your hand and crying out your name.

Her phone camera caught it all, from the little whines she made to the loud sounds of your fingers slamming into her wet cunt, "'Feels good, huh?"

"Tell the camera how it feels, baby." You huff, biting your lip as you feel her clench around your fingers, "So tight, fuck." A sigh falls from your lips, eyes still staring up at your girlfriend expectantly.

"S'good—Fuckk..!—God, baby, feels so fuckin' good..!" She says between moans, stuttering as the burning feeling in her abdomen starts to come back, "Ma!—Y/N, please—God, fuck."

You can't take your eyes off her, not even if you wanted to. Your eyes were locked on her body, eyes moving to her wrists every time you caught movement in your peripheral, then darting back to her face as she gulps, lips parting and trying to warn you of her impending orgasm.

"Can't hold—'M'gonna cum, babyy...!" She whines, her hands clenched into fists, nails digging into her clammy palms. Your fingers make a scissoring motion, rubbing against her walls and breaking her once again.

A choked moan escapes her throat, stars and colors flashing behind her eyelids as she squeezes them shut. Her thighs tremble uncontrollably, but your fingers never make the effort to stop, even when she's trying to squirm away.

Cries fall from her lips now, throat dry and voice coarse as she tries to get away from your hands. She could stop whenever she wanted, and neither of you have ever forgotten that, "Just say it, and I'll stop, Bills." You say softly, your smirk growing wider as she shakes her head.

Her wrists are almost white from how hard she tugs against the black and blue belt, tears streaking down her cheeks and running down her neck as she lets out the most pathetic sobs and whimpers. Her hips buck against your fingers, her actions contradicting her mumbled pleas for you to slow down.

"Mmh..!—Gonna—" She cuts herself off with a quiet gasp, the noise repeating over and over again in your ears 10x louder. You feel her slick squirt onto your fingers and your wrist before you hear her fast, short breaths.

Your fingers slow down this time, pulling out after her thighs threaten to close for the millionth time that night. The sticky substance coats the inner parts of her thighs, and you swear you've never seen anything more beautiful.

You bring your hand up in front of your face, spreading your fingers and watching as her cum creates a web between the crevices of your digits. Biting your lip, you stifle a moan, the hand on Billie's thigh carefully drawing circles on her skin.

"Look at me." You command softly. Her reaction is delayed, her body weak, mascara staining her cheeks as she takes a moment to catch her breath. Her eyes are locked onto you, eyes sleepy as her struggle against the tie around her wrists stops.

A sweet smile comes across your face at her tired demeanor before your lips part and you stick out your tongue. Billie whines pathetically as you place your fingers right on your tongue, wrapping your lips around the digits as you swirl your tongue around them, finally getting a taste.

Billie sighs as her wrists struggle against the belt again. She just wants to touch you, hold you. She just wants you. Her eyes flutter as she mumbles something, watching as your fingers slip from out between your lips, licked clean of her sweet juices.

Her eyes follow you as you scoot down further on the mattress, cheek resting against her inner thigh as you smile up at her contently before your tongue licks a stripe from her entrance up to her clit. She whimpers quietly, shaking her head weakly as her thighs close around your head.

Your tongue laps at her pussy like she's your last meal, getting every last drop of her sweetness as she mewls out into the room, tears brimming in her eyes again, "I know, I know, Bills.."

"Just gotta clean you up." You mutter in your defense, words muffled against her swollen bud, kissing it softly before coming up from between her thighs. You crawl up her body, hands finding her wrists and carefully undoing the buckle of the belt, throwing it on the empty space of the bed beside your two bodies.

Her hands immediately reach for your waist, hugging you close to her body as you lean closer to her face. Your lips are almost touching, your breath soft on her lips, and her breath soft on your own. She quickly closed the gap, having been deprived of your soft lips on hers the entire time.

She moans into your mouth as she tastes herself on you, hands scratching at your back softly as she pulls you closer to her body. Your chests press against each other, eliciting soft sounds to fall from your lips onto hers.

"Was that good?" You whisper, foreheads touching as you both close your eyes. Billie hums in response, too tired to even speak a word. Her breath fans across your face, soothing you as you fall completely into her.

Her nails drag along the expanse of your back, scratching softly as she nuzzles her face in your hair, breathing in your scent and slowly relaxing again, "Love you s'much."

You kiss her neck softly, smiling against her skin at her gentle voice, her words even softer. You leave a few more kisses along her neck before replying, your hands running down her sides, "Love you, too."

KINKTOBER ML.

[fortunapre]

𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ♫ Lando Norris x fem!reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 ♫ You Lando can’t stay away from each other, no matter how bad you should be running for the hills.

This is heavily inspired by the song “Run for the Hills” by Tate McRae

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 16+, use of Y/n, 3rd Person POV

♪ 𝐑𝐮𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐬 ♪ 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 ♪ 𝐋𝐍𝟒 ♪ 𝟐.𝟓𝐤 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬

Did this idea also come from the possibility that Lando (or his car) might be featured in Tate’s new music video? yes. Yes, it did.

Never gonna ever be more than just something that’s fucking me up,

Should run for the hills, should run for the hills

Should be running for the hills the way you touch me.

This dilemma you’re in, is nothing new. Partners with benefits? Friends with benefits? Sure, but it's a bit more complicated than Mila Kunis and Justin Timberlake. 

If anyone, meaning anyone, found out about your relationship (if you could even call it that), you’d both be fired. Ended. Then in your case, probably disowned. 

Across from the table, your secret sits a few seats away, chatting with another member of the team. Occasionally, you make eye contact and its never casual glances because his eyes hold a type of want that makes your skin burn. Each time your eyes meet, it’s like a secret signal. His hazel eyes hold promises that you swear could end wars. Or start them. Whatever he wanted, probably. 

No matter how much tension and stolen glances passed between you two, nothing could ever come of it tonight. He, Lando Norris, is a McLaren Formula One racing driver, and you are untouchable to him. Because you are the daughter of a rich man, a rich man who happens to be the leading sponsor of the McLaren Racing team. Your father’s business is so large, that if any reporter, coworker, friend, or teammate caught wind of an interpersonal relationship between you and Lando, he’d be ruined. Nothing stops the media from taking lies and twisting them for any audience that’ll listen. 

It’s been about six months of team dinners and other events since your family became a McLaren business partner. Six months where you’ve gotten way too close to Lando. Originally, you listened to your father’s warnings about dating anyone McLaren-related, but with Lando, you couldn’t help yourself.

The flirting became more than playful, and the careful touches became purposeful. Up until last night, the most you two had ever physically interacted is small brushes of your hands in crowded rooms, or that one time you swear he grazed your leg while sitting in a conference. Then last night, at the hotel your family and him were conveniently sharing, you let your needs win. You went to his room because you couldn’t sleep and wanted company at first, but then he invited you to his room's patio hot tub. 

Hotels, late nights, hands through my hair,

Long talks, red eyes, clothes everywhere…

You talked a bit, kissed a bit, kissed more, explored each other, but never did anything serious. Eventually, you both shared the realization that your family might come looking for you, so you stopped. However, ever since you left him last night, you’ve only been able to think about his hands and his lips. Little did you know, he was stuck on the same thing.

You both wanted it, and were willing to throw everything out of the window just to be in each other's reach. So, what was stopping you?

That was the same question that was running through both you and Lando’s mind tonight.

‘What’s stopping us?’ Your eyes tried to communicate to him, while tilting your head a bit. 

He let a smirk slip at first, but then immediately hid it, hoping no one caught him. If anyone followed his eyesight, they’d easily catch you two looking at each other with more fire than the hibachi stove next to you. 

You ate silently and talked to other business moguls around the table, trying your hardest to ignore how Lando was practically undressing you with his eyes. 

“So, Y/N, how’s life treating you?” A man who is two seats away from you changed the subject from baseball and directed it to you. He was wearing a classic pinstripe 3-piece suit that looked like it was going to pop open any second. He had an air that absolutely radiated money, or perhaps that was just the cologne that’s been burning your nose all night. 

You twitched your nose at the smell, then plastered a fake smile when looking at the man. “As good as it can get, I guess.” You answered him and took a look around the table, seeing how everybody has stopped to listen to your conversation. 

There were some people that you recognized, and some that you didn’t. (And one person that you wished you knew everything about.) Some people wore nice clothing, and others were dressed in casual or orange. 

“Good, good,” the man added while stabbing a piece of steak, swirling it in brown sauce on his plate. He shoveled the food into his mouth and continued nodding like he was still going to speak. He waved his fork in your direction, as he chewed. At first, he looked like he would never swallow the food. Finally, with what looked like a painful gulp, he cleared his throat and spoke again. “You, uh, getting into the family business anytime soon?”

“Sorry?” I asked, slightly confused with his wording. I was already in the family business, and I was sure he already knew that.

“Excuse me,” he began again. “I only meant to ask if you had put any thought into properly naming yourself an owner of your family’s company.” 

You were at an age where most business owners started inheriting the business, but your father was as healthy as ever, so there was no need to think about that. Maybe the man was looking for an opening to join your family’s company? 

“Oh, um, I’ve already prepared myself to inherit the business when the time comes, if that’s what you're referring to, but my place as a business representative is serving me well enough at the moment.”

The man nodded again, shoveled more meat into his mouth, nodded more, then gulped. “Ahhh, I see.” 

His words shouldn’t have meant anything rash, but his tone was so sour that I almost flinched. Anyone that wasn’t in the industry wouldn’t think twice about his wording, but when you’ve been surrounded by people like him all of your life, you catch the real meanings. In high class motorsport business, people rarely ever say what they actually mean, so you have to learn to understand their underlying cues. 

For example, someone could say “your business has been running pretty consistently recently,” when they really mean “I know you're going into debt nana nana boo boo.”

This man said “Ahhh… I see,” in a way that sounded very impolite.

“Sorry, but it almost sounded like you were doubting my daughter’s future.” Your father spoke up, cutting off the man who was speaking to you. Your father must have also caught on to the man’s tone. The man shook his head quickly and looked around the table, trying to explain. Everyone’s attention was still on our conversation. 

Even Lando’s. Especially Lando’s.

Lando looked like he wasn’t enjoying the man’s accusations, eyes almost predatory. 

You looked away from him, and back to the blubbering man. “No, no, no, no, no, sir. You must understand. I was only curious whether your daughter’s recent affairs had affected the re-”

“Affairs?” My father spoke louder. He didn’t look at me for clarification, he just looked angrier at the man. 

“Well, I mean, everybody’s noticed her and the McLaren racer becoming uncomfortable close for a business relationship.” The man looked both nervous, yet proud of his words. 

Your eyes widened. You were not expecting this man to know anything about this. You were mortified, safe to say. He had just outed you and Lando to a table full of people you were keeping your relationship the most secret from. 

“Get out.” Your dad stood from his chair quickly, asserting dominance, and showing his power. Two people from your father’s side ushered the man out quickly.

You were thankful for your father’s actions, but also terrified of how he might react to this new drama floating around the table currently.

Whispers clouded the table: “Y/N and Lando? No… maybe Oscar?” “You've seen them, right?” “No way!”

You looked at your father, as he sat back down. You wanted to explain, but he spoke first. 

“Honey, I know he was just trying to get under your skin. I never liked him anyways.” Your father spoke, trying to comfort you. “Plus, I know you are smart, and you and that Mclaren boy’s relationship is nothing but friendly business.”

Instead of fighting him, you let him believe that lie. “Yes. Yes, just friendly business, Father.”

He smiled with agreement and went back to the dinner. 

Your mind was still reeling with the events. Hopefully everyone else believes the same thing as your father. Hopefully no one knew the truth: that your's and Lando’s relationship was anything but professional or business-like.

The dinner had reached its end very soon after that altercation. Now, you and your family were pulling up to the hotel. As soon as you stepped out of the limo, you caught sight of a familiar body standing near you.

“Sorry.” you heard Lando speak up, facing your father. “I was wondering if I could speak to Y/n.” Lando asked very confidently, like he his request was nothing out of the ordinary. Meanwhile, your father looked at Lando with one of the most intimidating frowns you’ve ever seen. 

You touched your father’s arm lightly, signaling that he could trust you. So, your father let you go, reluctantly, but he trusted you. Maybe he shouldn’t. 

Lando waited until you were out of sight from your family, around a corridor, when he grabbed your hand and dragged you into a nearby room. You can’t say you didn’t expect this.

“Lando- what?” You tried to reason that your family could be waiting but Lando cut you off fast. 

His lips met yours with force and determination. You let whatever you were going to say die into a small moan against his mouth. 

Your mind was running again with scary thoughts of your father catching you two, or maybe even Lando’s boss. However, those thoughts instantly fizzled away when Lando slipped his arm around your waist, bringing your bodies close.

You were flush against each other, sharing body heat. Lando being so close was the exact remedy to any and all anxiety-inducing thoughts. You were this close before, sure, but this time felt so much more intimate.

It’s almost like the tension had built up from the dinner, and this small feeling of body-near-body made that dam break. Now tension and lust were washing over the two of you in a tidal wave. 

However strong your feelings for Lando were building, his are easily doubled.

Lando has been waiting to touch again ever since last night. The insatiable need to be near you, feel your body, hear those whispering noises you make when you kiss, was incredible. If it wasn’t irrational, he could have pulled you away during the dinner. Recently, that line between rational and irrational has been blurring more and more every time he’s near you.

He, of course, got the same warning as you about workplace relationships. Actually, he was basically threatened and scolded, because Zak couldn’t trust him as far as he could throw him when it comes to romantic relationships. Or keeping anything professional. 

He knows how worried you are about your business, and what bad publicity could do to it’s reputation. So, despite how bad he wants to ignore the warnings, he goes along with it to keep you safe.

In general, the entire relationship is just a god-awful idea. You should have stopped as soon as it started, but after last night…

Maybe the danger’s covered by the thrill,

‘Cause I know I should be running for the hills.

The way you touch me…

You tilted your head up slightly, deepening the kiss. He felt your submission and licked a stripe across your bottom lip.

Anytime you two have been intimate, kissing has been a key part. At first you were disappointed when Lando kept teasing your lips instead of your body, but the longer you kissed him, the more you never wanted to stop. Lando was a phenomenal kisser, and he knew that. 

The kiss moved from soft to hot and frenzied. You felt his tongue trace along the seam of your lips, begging for entry. You let him in and he quickly dominated your mouth. Anything Lando did with the kiss was insanely sexy, like he knew he could do no wrong.

You broke away, hoping to only catch your breath and go back to his lips, but he pulled away.

“Wait, Y/n. Listen, I’m sorry. I know how us being seen together could create a whole lot of shit…” He was silent for a bit. His words brought back the anxiety pounding in your mind.

You were worried he was rejecting you, but his next words were unexpected. 

“But, god, Y/N. I need you. I couldn’t fucking care less about your father’s rules or the media. I know we should stop. Trust me, I’ve tried mentally slapping myself anytime I think about you.” He started moving back to kiss you. “But no matter how hard I try to stay away, you keep pulling me back in.” He said the last part against your lips. 

All you could do was breathe harder. Of course you agreed with him, but no words were coming out of your mouth. You wanted to spill all of your feelings just as he did, but your thoughts were just fog at the moment. Perhaps, if you’d actually even said anything, it wouldn’t be comprehensive at all.

So instead you settled by pulling him closer by his tie and smiling. He must have gotten the hint because he dove back into the kiss. 

After you both finally express your feelings, nothing should come between your relationship anymore right? 

Except, like it was described at the beginning, this is much more complicated. 

Days later, you still weren’t dating. Actually, you didn’t know if you would ever date Lando. 

Either way, again and again, you still meet up in dark corridors and hotel rooms. 

“I need you, Y/N.” Lando told you after you tried to end it out of worry that you’d be caught.

“Lando…” However hard you tried to stop seeing him, your body fought against you. “Alright, but we need to be especially quiet. Please…”

Don’t tease me, and keep me around like it’s easy,

When you know deep down that it’s

Never gonna ever be us.

You were like magnets that could never be apart for too long. No, you were never going to be able to publicly date, and this secret partners-with-benefits ordeal was insanely risky. But, like a hobby that turns into an obsession, or a flame that turns into a bonfire: A little taste was never enough. 

I get obsessive with you.

All that I want is attention from you

Break into my life and break all my rules, it's true…

Fortunapre Taglist:

BTW IF YOU WANT TO BE INCLUDED, TELL ME!! :))

@zupercoolgirl

@iloveotters11

[batsvnte]

𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐘𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄 — Everything has to be in order to make this trip worth it. In one hand you had a bag full of supplies. Water and food with bits of medical equipment in case you get in trouble that was running low. A journal with some sort of entertainment to write about your travels. It’s always been like this for an while and you were fine with just that.

But, there had been unexpected hiccups in your wandering adventure so you opted to have another item on you. A wagon that you had gotten (scammed) from a man who was a local of another planet. He didn’t really look like a local, just some random visitor. You didn’t really have any other option than to choose some wagon that could possibly hold anything and everything you needed.

By that, anything could mean an grown man that was knocked out who was incidentally bleeding out slowly on your wagon. When you had stumbled upon him, his wounds were deep and he was bleeding vaguely fast. You couldn’t leave him on the ground with abominations running rampent around the place and you didn’t know if you had enough time to get help before he died from the wounds inflicted. So you did the best thing you could think of.

You had done the best you could to tend to his wounds without using up all of your supplies. Getting your hands covered in blood wasn’t on your list for the day, but it didn’t really matter at the moment. You just hoped that they would focus more on the injured man on your wagon than the fact that it looks like you had murdered him. You were too young to go to jail.

Getting a good look at his appearance, you couldn’t place where exactly you had seen him before. He was on his side where the wound wasn’t located on. Though his blueish, raven hair covered parts of his face. You couldn’t focus on that now. You just had to get him some help at the moment.

It was a torturous one hour of having to wait out monsters strolling by, wheeling the wagon to one place to another without the worry of him falling out and going up the little hills that could possibly mean danger on the other end. It was horrible taking those shortcuts that you were extra weary.

But thankfully, the wagon had held up long enough to come across an small little store. You nearly felt like collapsing in the process of relief that you found the store in time, but at the same time it was one that had an automatic system mandating it. An AI that you had no trouble with. But it was a buggy one with major and minor difficulties with one being that you couldn’t call for help.

You did have a plan in mind to get through this. Which took nearly forever with washing the blood and getting bandages, medicine, and other things needed.

“Will that be all?”

“Yeah…..”

It was wrong to leave the guy out in the back of the store with semi-untreated wounds. Fast tapping against the glass counter as the robot had process everything that you had purchased. Nearly 50 credits but it would be worth it. You cautiously glanced out the door for anyone else coming in and also at the robot that took forever to get everything.

“Have an go—“

No time to let the clerk finish its sentence. You felt bad but it wouldn’t possibly matter right now. Rummaging through the bag as you sped walk back over to where you last left the wagon, but as you rounded the corner there was… nothing. Nobody. The man was gone.

The only thing that was evidence of his existence was the bloodied bottom of the wagon. And a neatly folded paper at the corner of the wagon that was free of blood. You plucked it up from its spot, unfolding it with careful care.

“Thanks for taking care of Bladie <3”

Confusing and a bit weird. No other word that could tell who it was from. A friend of ‘Bladie’s’ you had assumed. You shoved note back into one of the pockets of your jacket and took an small blanket to cover up the top of it. The smell would draw attention but for now would do it. Just as long as you didn’t run into anyone.

It wasn’t till much later you gotten into another spot where you could rest your legs. Hopefully taking the time to clean the blood from the wagon. You couldn’t stop thinking about the man and the note left behind. The name was familiar, and the man as well.

Looking up you found a poster plastered on the rocky wall in front of you. The picture of the man that you had found with an bounty and information about him. Your stomach dropped as you took in the information.

“Damn… I helped a wanted criminal”

The possible thought of getting into trouble loomed over you. Though it would be a funny little story to mention to your friends. You were too distracted by that to noticed that there was an purple sticker stuck on the side of your wagon.

[shmothman]

hands (put your empty hands in mine)

vash x reader drabble (rated g, 550 words)

Scarred from wrist to fingertip—just like the rest of him—Vash’s hands are never anything but gentle and careful when they wrap around yours. All of him is careful with you, often borderline treating you as if you’re fragile, but can you blame him when human life so often is? It’s only out of love for you; out of fear that you’ll be ripped away from him. Still, he can’t bear to hold on too tight. The guilt (of putting you in danger just by keeping you close) is something he’ll never fully be able to escape, but it’s something you can help lessen, with patience and love and the constant reminder that he is deserving.

At first, even just holding your hand is nearly enough to make him cry. He’s denied himself a great many things over the past hundred and thirty years—affection chief among them—and accepting it now is difficult, even when it’s something he wants more than anything else. Give him some time to get used to it; he’ll be seeking it out constantly before long. Your hand in his becomes an anchor, a comfort, a reminder that you’re here and you’re real and he isn’t alone anymore. You’re nothing short of a miracle, to him.

Though, of course, he gets nervous, especially in the beginning—his hand sweaty and trembling as he gives you a wobbly grin; he might even give you his prosthetic hand to hold (although any other time he favors the other) to keep you from seeing just how nervous he is. Not that you can’t tell. You know him too well for that. He’ll be even more awestruck when you take his right hand anyway, interlacing your fingers with his and giving him a squeeze of reassurance. You don’t mind if his palm is a little bit sweaty. Yours is too.

Not to say that you shy away from his left hand: though the metal gets far too hot to hold beneath the desert suns, it cools in the evening like everything else, and you can sit with him, tracing the nicks and scuffs of it. He doesn’t have much feeling in it, but watching you draw mindless patterns against it makes his heart sing. Still, the fact that it’s a weapon makes him hesitant to touch you with it; he wishes he could keep that part of himself away from you entirely. You coax him out of that melancholy every time, though—especially when you take it and press it to your cheek, swearing the coolness of it feels like heaven.

One surefire way to get him to melt is to brush your lips over his knuckles, or even better, press a kiss to his open palm when he goes to cup your cheek. He’s always red-faced around you, but when you give him such open adoration, your lips against the calluses he’s acquired in all his years as a gunslinger, he lights up like a roman candle, pink to the tips of his ears. (And if you compliment his hands? If you tell him how safe and loved they make you feel? How you love that he chooses to use them for good? For love and peace? Vash has long since decided that he’s yours forever, but this only cements that fact tenfold.)

[stevestark]

Guilty As Sin? is so steddie coded, y'all.

just. Eddie pining for Steve thinking he's the absolute worst for doing so because he knows how precious it is to get to be friends with Steve Harrington. like, in general, because, y'know. the popular jock and the town freak? unheard of. but also in a more intimate way. because he knows now that Steve is just an actual good fucking person, and that friendship with him is seemingly unconditional and it's so precious.

so when he catches himself watching Steve wave his hands around when he talks, or staring when Steve bites his lip when he's concentrating on something, or the way his fingers itch to play with Steve's hair, he starts to think he's on the verge of fucking it all up.

that he'll scare Steve off and then he'll lose Robin too, and the kids, and this whole weird little family unit they forged in the literal fires of hell.

but then...there's the times he thinks he's not overstepping.

like when he goes to glance at Steve, trying to play it off as nonchalance and finding himself feeling completely unmoored by the fact that Steve is already looking at him. or when he goes to put his hair up in a messy bun on a hot day, and Steve casually reaches out to grab the piece he missed and sticks it into Eddie's hand before he slides the elastic over the heap of hair.

or the time Eddie laughs at something Dustin says and chokes a little on his beer, and Steve thumps him on the back to help clear his airway but just...leaves his hand there between Eddie's shoulder blades, thumbs rubbing small circles into the space he brought his fist down, as if to apologize.

and then he watches Steve go about his usual schtick flirting with girls and he thinks, not for the first time, that it's actually all in his head.

so he starts to pull away; he forces himself to not stare, doesn't return the gazes he feels burning into the side of his head, sits anywhere but directly next to Steve.

for a while it works.

until Steve starts seeking his presence out. sits right up against him as they all cram onto the couch to watch a movie. lets his hand linger as he passes Eddie a beer. tugs on an errant curl when it falls out of Eddie's bun.

and just like that, Eddie is back to feeling the little spark of hope flare in his chest.

"what if he's written mine on my upper thigh only in my mind? one slip and fallin' back into the hedge maze; oh, what a way to die."

[good-beanswrites]

A drabble for an anon asking about the prisoners watching their music videos! This is focused on specifically Mikoto’s initial shock at seeing MeMe for the first time, but just know that Double comes with a whole new set of shocks as he truly listens to John for the first time ;-;

Mikoto was no criminal. 

He didn’t know how to break into locked rooms, or hack into complex prison security systems. He figured there was no way in hell he’d be able to see these so-called incriminating videos that the Warden was recording, and had resolved himself to an eternity of wondering what they could be. He was shocked when he didn’t need to do a single thing to gain access to them – Es simply adjusted the computer monitor and told him he could hit play when (and if) he wished. Then they left the room.

“A-are you sure?” he called, but they were already gone.

Mikoto blinked at the screen. It showed a stretched version of his apartment couch, near his bathroom wall, broken to reveal sky above. He thought he could spot his tarot cards at the bottom of the frame. Had Milgram broken into his home to film this? 

He scoffed, and hit play.

Distorted guitar started up. He flinched as his own face appeared for a moment – looking directly into the camera and making a wild expression he would never have made if someone was recording. His body tensed up more as he heard his own voice start to sing lyrics he’d never spoken before in his life. He wasn’t even a good singer, and here he was sounding like a professional. 

There were plenty of ways to accomplish all of this, of course. Software could mimic one’s voice, making him say anything these crazy reality hosts wanted. A team could easily add some digital effects to a stunt double and match his appearance perfectly. Knowing that didn’t make the experience any less unsettling.

He watched himself commit a nasty murder. He watched himself return home bloodied. But it was all ridiculous. How could Milgram even claim that this was him? He’d never raised a hand to anyone in his life. Were the other prisoners’ videos as outlandish as this one?

But then, a switch. 

The song shifted to a new melody. He appeared to wake up from his couch, and suddenly Mikoto got the sense that this was him.

He was struck with how familiar this new segment sounded. It simultaneously felt like a favorite song he must have played on loop not too long ago, and one that he’d never heard before. As it played, each new note and lyric felt right on the tip of his tongue. 

It ended as quickly as it began. The song returned to the heavy-metal-murder aesthetic it had started with, and once again he felt like he was watching a cheap copy of himself onscreen. He watched another murder, a shower scene (had the warden seen all that? How embarrassing…) and then he turned to his bathroom mirror.

At the same time as his musical counterpart, Mikoto leapt backwards in horror. 

His eyes remained glued to the screen. His hand flew up to grab the lower half of his face. It was fake, he told himself. AI and CGI and all that. It was fake. It had to be. 

Something deep inside of him said “no. That’s real. That’s me.”

Something else deep inside of him echoed the sentiment.

The video was less than four minutes of music, but by the end he was panting and tugging at his hair as if he’d endured hours of prison torture. He burst out of the room. He sucked in breath after breath. The melodies still played in his mind, lines repeating in his memory as he tried to put as much distance between himself and that little television screen.

He found the others in the common room. They gave him a knowing look, but somehow he knew his experience had been very different from their own. Es approached him.

They studied his expression for a moment. Thankfully, they didn’t ask anything stupid, like “how did it go?” or “what did you think?” 

Instead, they just told him, “if you ever want to watch it again, just let me know, I can get it set up for you.”

He would want to see it again. Of course, it would be better, then. He would take a moment to calm down. He’d watch it later and everything would be okay. He’d have a clearer mind. He’d pick out all the little camera tricks they used to make it. He’d be sure it was a fake, and laugh about how ridiculous he was being now. 

Of course. Of course. 

He nodded to Es, unable to produce any words. Es left him.

The rules in this prison never made any sense, but in this case, he was grateful. He wouldn’t need to figure out any snooping or hacking to get access to the video again. After all, he was no criminal.

… he wasn’t, was he?

[hwatermelons]

art student!hongjoong watercoloring you in his cold-pressed notebook while you pose for him on a stool in a dimly lit room. the only light source being the moonlight through the circular window in the ceiling that shines like a spotlight on your perch. he's getting a little frustrated, making tweaks to his work, wondering why he can't quite get your likeness right. maybe it's the lighting, or the anatomy, or even the medium itself?

he looks up to reference you again and notices you smiling encouragingly, despite sitting there in the same position for half an hour. the way your cheek twitches up with your expression. your eyes shifting colors as you blinked, going from their natural color to a vivid, iridescent version of it as the moonlight fell on them. the shimmering dust particles in the beam of light giving you an air of ethereal beauty, radiant against your dark surroundings.

thats when he realizes--there's no capturing the real thing.

[bifuriouswaterbender]

Timeless

Eddie stood, smiling fondly down at the photo in his hands. To have access to photos like these... It was a priceless experience. He'd paid so little for them too. Just twenty-five cents each for a couple in the thirties clearly dressed for a wedding, even if they couldn't legally get married.

A pair of arms encircled his waist.

"What are you looking at?" Steve asked, voice a low hum in Eddie's ear.

Rather than answer directly, Eddie help up another one. "What do you say, sailor? Would you have sent me letters every night from whatever boat they put you on?"

Steve nuzzled his nose against the back of Eddie's neck, ticklish but not enough for Eddie to move. "Depends. Would you have written back from your little plane up in the sky?"

"Could you have argued against the fifties conformity a few years later?"

Steve reached around him to pick up the couple in question, holding hands as they leaned against a pickup truck stared tenderly at each other. Eddie hoped everyone saw their love as clearly as that in the photo.

"I'd have loved you in every way I could in any time I could."

Eddie shivered against the honesty. He was tempted to play it off, call Steve a sap and make a joke. But the vulnerability of every couple who had risked a camera documenting their love at a worse time to show it off than even now, the idea of every couple before then--some who'd had to hide, some who could be as open about their love as they wanted--in the face of all that, Eddie couldn't deflect.

He twisted around, tucking his arms under Steve's, to hold him snug and feel the body of the man he loved against his. "We're a timeless kind of love, aren't we?"

Steve's soft smile belonged in a photo as much as any of these. "Always."

[iamyoursonly]

Heart to heart? Heart to heart. (16/06/2024)

hihi guess who’s backkkk i’m almost done with my exams so i cooked up something simple and short :) sorry if this was a bit heartbreaking because i’m kinda running out of plots and i need to write something for my pookie :’( wish my good luck with biology!!! <33

0.4k words — unedited

Blue, the shade that recalls the calming expanse of the ocean, the unending vastness of the sky, and most importantly — the alluring shade of those eyes.

The image of you is deeply ingrained in my mind, with the intricacies of your lip movements and your distinctive walk clearly remembered. Regardless of the experiences we have undergone, the essence of our relationship has remained unchanged. The trivial conversations and occasional quietness continue to elicit a fluttering sensation in my heart.

My gaze is inexorably drawn to the sky as a means of recalling the breathtakingly beautiful shade that I can never grow tired of. I find it hard to accept there exists an individual of such breathtaking attractiveness that the word 'gorgeous' falls short of an accurate description. That individual is none other than you. The one who has occupied the unique and significant place in my life since the beginning.

Satoru, your name evokes a sense of comfort and familiarity akin to being at home for me. Your presence is sufficient to bring me solace. And I love that about you.

“Love? What’s on your mind, you’ve been zoning out for a while now.” You say, “My love? Darling? Pookie?”

I am brought back to the present, locking eyes with you, my dearest. As I nestle myself in your arms, longing for the warmth and security they offer.

“I’ve never known someone like you.” I say. Your lips curved into a smile, which I could discern.

“Neither have I.” A gentle kiss to my forehead was all the comfort and solace I sought.

Grasp the depth of my despair, as I was compelled to observe your lifeless body, cold and still, lying on the ground before me. The tears refuse to be restrained, continuing to flow unabatedly. The solace of sleep fails to quell the anguish.

I could merely clasp your hand as I released you, allowing you to find tranquility in the afterlife.

Satoru, my love, I would unfailingly opt for you in every circumstance and across multiple lifetimes. Regardless of the outcome, I still can’t help falling in love with you…

[destinedtobeloved]

So we're not written in the stars but I'm okay with that

I'm okay with anything!

Takeshi realizing that Quell is really gone. Her voice fades out of his mind and so does the images of her face that come to him in his whiskey-drunk moments where he can almsot pretend like he’s not truly as fucked up as he feels like he is- and he mourns the loss of a memory 250 years dead and a heart 250 years broken newly flooded with a grief for something that wasn’t even truly there in the first place.

Quell never really wanted to be with him anyways. All she cared about was her rebellion. Her projects. Was her constant rejections and barely returned kisses a staple of love? She knew the both of them would die young- that nothing was written in the stars for them but death. Why waste the time?

But now, Takeshi is back, and he feels that pain as if it were yesterday, feeling the crushing weight of his guilt and his grief settle over his shoulders like it had once done for years on end, never once getting a break. He felt his back ache and his joints tighten as it became to hard to carry such a burden with him for so long.

He will never see her again. She is dead, and Takeshi is a lone traveler searching and clawing and scratching at anything that is a reminiscence of her and how it felt to look into her eyes and feel a bit lighter than he does now. He was always weighted by the grief of life, but this is something he can’t forget. It doesn’t matter how many years pass on, he will still feel this- this- this ache and a stabbing pain in his chest he gets without even moving, simply thinking- and sometimes not even.

They weren’t destined for anything.

He lets her drain from his memory like tears down a dirty cheek, and he is no longer weighted by the question of ‘what if?’

[raitrolling]

Aren't I hurting anyone? Perhaps it's time for me to tear apart For what it is I've been Denote my place within humanity Projecting by my will I've been amassing solid iron claws Ignore the rottenness My recitals will decay in a flash

Happy birthday @cloudbattrolls! my buddy, my pal, my partner in writing hilarious and occasionally deeply cursed crimes

here's your blender gremlin :]

(full view)

[edgessunflower]

Nickelback lyrics as prompts

Divider credits to @thecutestgrotto

"If they could love like you and me, imagine what the world could be"

"Every memory of looking out the back door"

"And all I need is you"

"Just as long as you know that someday I will"

"Trying not to love you only goes so far"

"It's love that I'm sending to you"

"My soul's got holes"

"To let you know that you're not alone"

"Stop breathing if I don't see you anymore"

"Cause everyone wants to feel like someone cares"

"I am not a leader since I prefer to follow"

"Time's gone by but you still look the same"

"Please promise me that this won't end"

"I finally know what it means to let someone in"

"That first step is the longest stride you'll take"

"How you remind me of what I really am"

"Everything I say to you comes out wrong and never comes out right"

"Somebody said revenge was served sweeter cold"

"I touch your hair, touch your face"

"And I'll show you what I can be"

"We'll show the world they were wrong"

"Still I don't understand"

"You could be my world, if I could be your satellite"

"I'm tired of pretending but I'm terrified of it ending"

"Trying not to love you only makes me love you more"

"After dark laughing in the rain"

"The years have come and gone, but stories carry on"

"With you I'd withstand all of hell to hold your hand"

"You can't give up when you're looking for a diamond in the rough"

"She keeps me up all night"

"Please let me take you out of the darkness into the light"

[vexsprompts]

♥️     𝐀 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐥     𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 3     [   𝚂𝙴𝙽𝚃𝙴𝙽𝙲𝙴 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚁𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚂    ]    ♥️

part three of my favorite jams on repeats ! feel free to alter/change as needed for use ofc ! the goal is always to have fun !  ♥️

██████████████████████████████████████████████████████

❝   Wake me from this nightmare I live in (. / !) ❞ ❝   Something inside of me keeps giving up.  ❞ ❝   Was the sober me not good enough (? / ?!) ❞ ❝   I've spent too many years in this house of pain (. / !)  ❞ ❝   When I dream, I can see the end. ❞ ❝   I fear I'm not enough or I'm too much.  ❞ ❝   Thank God I know the road back home.  ❞ ❝   Some things you can't replace (. / !) ❞ ❝   At best, you're a parasite (. / !) ❞ ❝   I feel the fear and loathing constantly (. / !)  ❞ ❝   I've lost control, save me (. / !) ❞ ❝   Fight me, now (. / !) ❞ ❝   I'm crossing out the (man/woman/person) that I've become (. / !) ❞ ❝   You'll reap what you sow (. / !) ❞ ❝   You can't save save your soul. ❞ ❝   Will we ever love again? ❞ ❝   It's never too late (. / !) ❞ ❝   Maybe things are not so different. ❞ ❝   There's no one else (. / !) ❞ ❝   I thought we were friends (. / !) ❞ ❝   I'm lost inside my head (. / !) ❞ ❝   It's like there's water in my lungs (. / !) ❞ ❝   I cannot live inside my mind (. / !) ❞ ❝   They're coming after me (. / ! / ?) ❞ ❝   You better get ready to run (. / !) ❞ ❝   Thank you for being so kind. ❞ ❝   We look good together. ❞

[sugoi-writes]

I keep hearing Shake It (Metro Station) at work, and I keep giggling like an idiot:

---

(Modern AU! Setting implied)

Imagine, if you will, an innocent, oblivious Rengoku who LOVES the song. Namely because you like the song so much. Of course, Mitsuri and Tengen chide and poke fun at him because of course he wouldn't pick up on the meaning of the lyrics

Rengoku thinks the song is an innocent bop about dancing with someone you like. And Mitsuri and Tengen try their damndest to explain it to him without making him more confused.

The meaning of the song really doesn't hit Rengoku until he's pulled by you to the dance floor, not by a wrist, an arm or his shirt... but by his HAND.

He suddenly feels clammy, cursing himself as his palms sweat even more. You were touching him, and you were dancing awfully close to him... and the flame he feels in his chest climbs to this throat, his pulse thumping loudly.

But the two of you dance, and dance together with reckless abandon, whether you drink or not. Rengoku, as awkward as he is, is able to imulate and learn to go with the flow by watching you. And that's when Rengoku really starts to listen to and process the lyrics more properly...

Oh.

Oh you like this song, AND you think about him... Like that??? ... touché!

Rengoku's mind fills with ideas; ideas he hopes will get you home (or him to your home) so you can really chat about that song... Or better yet, learn about the lyrics in a more... "hands on" approach.

Let's be honest, the boy learns visually just as much as he does through reading. You're gonna be "educating" him ALL night

[imaginingfrancium]

can't stop thinking about how lucifer's pov went from "i reach for you, but you were gone", relating to his grief on lilith's death... to "my hand was the one you reached for" , which is from the fact his life was changed by MC completely after meeting them.

[slytherinbarnes]

me to myself: hozier x sub rosa drabbles when??!