#Valentine’s Day in the lonely apparently

[allseeingmoth]

yeah ofc dude, drowning in isolation ain’t shit I still got you ♥️

I got “drowned” and “alone” ????? Help?

[super-marvel-dc]

Me: *Grinning to myself*

Person: What are you smiling about?

Me, thinking about the smut I wrote that stays in my drafts because I'm too afraid to post it so it's gonna stay there untill I choose to post it: Nothing.

[esotericbluntbaby]

confined

hamzahthefantastic x reader

description: being mandy's best friend, you were ecstatic to be her maid-of-honor, only to realize that the best man was your ex. wounds reopen when you realize you're stuck with him in more ways than one.

mentions: nsfw/smut (no p in v, but moreso oral fixations..?) , angst, both of you are lowk assholes, forced proximity, hurt/comfort, happy ending, she/her pronouns, reader wears glasses, ex! hamzah

--

"he's right next door," she took the ice bucket from the counter in front of you two, "i can go get the ice if you want."

mandy was treating you like you were fine china during an earthquake: shattered, fragile, and delicate to the touch.

you and her have been best friend since past lives, finding each other in every single life you've lived. she understood you as well as you understood her, leading to a bond that was irreplaceable and youthful. so, when she asked you to be her maid-of-honor the day after martin proposed to her, you obviously checked the "yes" box of the letter she gave you. you liked martin for her; after seeing her get her heart broken by immature high schoolers a couple years ago and middle schoolers even before that, you took solace in the fact that martin genuinely cared about her in a way that radiates in the kindness he treats her with.

during this time, you and hamzah also had a bond as strong as you and mandy's. hanging out with mandy led to martin joining the hangouts, which led to hamzah joining after martin realized how lonely it must've felt to have both of your closest friends date and show their affection in front of their single friend.

throughout the hangouts, you and hamzah's relationship slowly emerged from the love that festered around you two. it was almost as if mandy and martin's emotions somehow spread into the emotions located between you and hamzah, leading to him admitting his emotions a couple of days after valentines day.

though mandy and martin got their fairytale-esque, happy "ending" in the form of a wedding, you and hamzah's fate was much more melancholy; compared to the love story you both witnessed, you and hamzah's story turned into shakespearean tragedy.

you and hamzah's relationship ended after 11 months; specifically, one month before things would have gotten to the "serious" stage. he broke up with you because he wasn't ready for things to get serious yet, as if it wasn't already. he acted as if you didn't pour the inners of your heart out to him whenever you'd whisper sweet everythings into his ear. he acted as if he didn't watch you as you slept with a look of pure bliss and engagement apparent in his eyes. you, on the other hand, acted as if it wasn't a big deal; you were never one for showing people how you feel. the people who understood you already knew that. needless to say, you and hamzah's current status was one that was ignored by the both of you. the existence of your emotions towards each other resided somewhere in the lower valleys of your heart and souls, holding on by a mere thread.

a three years ago, you would've been overjoyed with the fact that you'd be walking down the aisle with him as the last couple before mandy walked down with her father in her hand. however, with how unexpected the breakup was, nobody could have prepared the emotions that you would go through the week in the wedding.

the conversation you and mandy were having was currently in your shared hotel room which, ironically, had a single door and wall separating you from hamzah and martin. before it started storming out, mandy had gotten a glass of champagne she wanted to share with you before the wedding in three days. wanting to chill the bottle in ice first, you were conversing about who was going to go and get it from the machine.

you took the bucket from her arm, "no, it's okay. didn't martin say he needed to talk to you about your floral arrangements?"

"still, like, i wouldn't want you to just go out and possibly run into him before you're ready. we still have three days to prepare for that."

you sighed, "i don't care if i run into him, somehow. it's whatever at this point."

mandy's eyebrows furrowed slightly with worry, "are you sure you're okay with walking down the aisle with him? i get if you're uncomfortable- i can change the order, or, something-"

"mandy," you took your hands and firmly reassured her by placing them on her shoulders, "it's okay. i'll be okay. go talk to martin, i'll be back."

"okay, be safe. text me if you need anything."

--

going to the ice machine on the 9th floor, you turned the corner and walked towards the buzzing noise. the lighting of the hallways were fluorescent, with a hint of warmth in each lamp beside each door. the windows showed raindrops racing down the crevices of transparency; you could hear thunder very faintly in the background of the buzzing. reaching the ice machine, you read a sign on it written in thick, black sharpie.

broken! do not use! working ice machine on the first floor!

you looked at the map and, sighing, you walked back to the elevator and pressed the down arrow, waiting patiently for it to get to you. after hearing the ding of the elevator and watching the stainless steel doors open, you entered as your finger made it to the buttons on the side. pressing the first floor button, you stood in silence.

a part of you had been thinking about seeing hamzah this whole trip. though the other part of you hated him for how he ended things with you over some excuse, you also didn't want your best friend's wedding to be tense and full of resentment. then again, your plan was to simply walk with him and then separate for the rest of the trip and, eventually, the rest of your life. the part of you that thought about seeing hamzah was also the part of you that missed how dorky and lame he was; that was also the part of you that missed how he tasted and felt, skin to skin.

your thoughts were interrupted when you heard the ding of the door, revealing an ice machine conveniently right in front of you. taking the bucket, you placed it beneath the spout and pressed the button to fill it. suddenly, a clap of thunder caused you to jolt; you hated loud noises. you were beginning to regret leaving the hotel room.

quickly closing the bucket, you mimicked the opposite of your earlier actions: you pressed the up arrow, got in, and pressed the 9th button. you were planning on waiting patiently, once again, for the elevator ride to go smoothly. there was no one else in the elevator with you, meaning that you were free from awkward conversations with middle aged men. however, the door slid open once again and revealed the face you weren't planning on seeing tonight.

you knew hamzah liked going to the gym, however, seeing him so jacked after erasing him from your life for a full two years was an experience that you weren't able to even comprehend. his curls peeked through his beanie in a halo, slightly hiding the glimmer he always had in his dark eyes. one thing you noticed about him ever since you started dating was that he looked insanely good in simple, black clothing; currently, he was in a black tank top and black sweatpants. sweat was glistening off of his skin, providing a glow that was so lethal that it could blind you. this was your ex. you were currently admiring your ex and you hated it.

realizing it was you standing in the elevator, his eyes slightly widened at the thought of you. hamzah always enjoyed how you looked before going to bed. he liked the way your hair was let down and cascading down your back. he enjoyed how you looked with your glasses on and how smart they made you look. he admired how you slept in big t-shirts and shorts. the feelings were mutual. he was aware that it was bad he was thinking of you in this manner, however, he didn't care.

you moved aside, making room for him in the slightly cramped elevator. he walked and stood next to you, avoiding eye contact and still exchanging glances at you beside him. his hand moved towards the elevator floor buttons, soon realizing that the floor was already pressed. the elevator was quiet and you both sensed awkward tension emerging from between you two.

until, you both felt the elevator stop moving.

"uh- shouldn't we have been on our floor by now?" he questioned, breaking the awkward silence with the clearing of his throat.

you nodded, "yeah, um, it's been, like, two minutes."

"are we stuck?"

the lights went out as thunder crashed outside, causing you to jump once more. hamzah took out his phone and shined the flashlight onto you, revealing the slightly petrified expression held in your furrowed eyebrows and parted mouth.

he softly spoke, "hey, it's okay. i'm sure it'll come on soon."

you took out your phone and attempted to text mandy, ultimately failing when you realized there was no signal inside of the elevator.

"i'm not getting any signal, are you?"

he checked, "no, i'm not."

--

after the man on the elevator's loudspeaker told you that you had to wait for the storm to clear in order to be rescued, you could almost feel your heart drop down to your stomach. you were currently stuck in an elevator with the man that broke your heart and left you emotionally bruised for months.

you both sat on the floor on opposite sides. since there was no signal, there wasn't much to do other than sit there and stare at seemingly everything except each other; that was, until hamzah broke the silence.

"so.."

you made eye contact with him, a familiar feeling of nostalgic warmth entering your system. this wasn't to say that you completely forgot about what he did. that feeling lasted a second or two, before it was replaced with the reminders of anguish.

he continued, "how've you been?"

"fine," a tang of bitterness exited your mouth, "you?"

"i've been okay."

"cool."

"are you mad at me, still?" hamzah asked.

a look of disbelief plastered itself on your facial canvas, "are you serious?"

"look, it's not like i wanna be in this elevator with my ex either, but i am," he firmly reassured, "neither of us know when we're going to leave and neither of us can use our phones. i might as well make small talk-"

"that isn't small talk."

"then what is it?"

"it's talking about how i've been since we ended things," you sighed, "that isn't small talk. it's more than that."

a pause entered the conversation.

"okay, it isn't," his voice got softer, "i still want to know."

"fine. in reality, i ask myself what the hell i did wrong every night."

"you didn't do anything wrong-"

"well, i wasn't doing things right enough for you to stay."

silence entered the room, once again. you realized you were being snappy, but you couldn't help it. he was the reason mandy saw you as fragile and delicate. you hated him for it.

you continued, "maybe we should just stop talking. i think it's making everything even worse-"

he cut you off, "i still think about you."

"what?"

"like, i don't know, every night."

"that's such bullshit."

he scoffed, "just because i was the one that ended things doesn't mean it didn't hurt for me either."

"that's also bullshit. you chose to break up with me," you reminded, enunciating the "you", "that was your decision."

"well, you agreed, didn't you?"

"did i have a choice?"

"well-"

"no, i didn't."

hamzah took his beanie off to run his hands in his hair, allowing it to fall onto the floor beside him, "jesus fucking christ, you aren't even letting me explain."

you took a deep breath, "fine. go."

"you wanna know the real reason i broke up with you?"

"fucking obviously."

"well, smartass, i was scared, okay?"

"scared of fucking what? you think i wasn't scared-"

"if you haven't realized," hamzah got closer to you, "a relationship isn't just about you."

"y'know what, fuck you, hamzah."

he cocked his eyebrow, "what'd you just say?"

"i said fuck you. you're over here acting like you're hurt over it- acting like you weren't the one who left me when i needed you the most, giving me the most bullshit excuse. 'im not ready for things to be serious' i knew it was bullshit as soon as those words came out of your mouth," a glare overcame the admiration that was once found in your eyes, "in reality, you left me. that's all there is to it. i needed you and you fucking vanished. it's like you didn't even try-"

"don't even fucking say that," he grabbed your cheek with his hand, "i'd drink fucking poison if it tasted like you."

"what are you-"

"you think i don't regret leaving you? i do- i regret it every single fucking night when i'm laying in bed, so fucking lonely. it's like i see you everywhere, in everyone, and it just reminds me of how much i fucked up by letting you go. i miss you so fucking much, baby, you don't even understand. shit, i haven't even been able to finish ever since i left you."

a certain lust replaced the tension in the room, "what?"

"i can't even make myself finish anymore. it's been three years and i haven't gotten laid- i haven't even tried to. i knew they wouldn't be as good as you, doll."

"hamzah-"

"my question is," his face became inches apart from your face, lips being parted right in front of yours, "have you?"

you stayed in this position for another thirty seconds; you and hamzah were currently on the floor, noses practically touching from how close you two were. the tension in the room was both full of anger and sex; a concoction that shouldn't have been mixed in the first place, a cocktail that was dangerous to be drank.

"no," you swallowed, "no, i haven't."

"why is that, baby?"

your breathing became slightly heavier as nervousness was felt in the pit of your stomach, "hamzah, i can't-"

"use your words," his thumb teased your cheek in a circular motion, "why haven't you gotten with anyone since me?"

"no one could make me feel the way that you do," a tinge of dominance allowed itself to escape from you, "now, answer my question, hamzah."

"what's your question?"

"if i decided to kiss you tonight, would you just leave again?"

"fuck no-"

you latched onto him as if he was the only thing holding you together. immediately, your tongues explored each other's mouths. you both missed this feeling; you both missed this taste. hamzah tasted like the mint gum he'd always get whenever you guys would go to gas stations together; you could dive deep into how good he tasted. his hands roamed around your body, exploring a familiar lagoon that he missed swimming in.

though you enjoyed making out with him, he wanted more. unlatching from your mouth, you chased after his lips once again.

"relax, baby. i'm right here- i'm not going anywhere."

pinning you against the wall with his hands, his lips made its way to your neck. sucking and leaving bruised marks on the crevice between your shoulders and ear, you let out a small moan; it was the sweetest tune that hamzah hasn't heard in forever. he sucked harder, earning a louder and more whiny noise coming out of your mouth.

you gripped his hair in your hands tightly, "fuck, hamzah- i missed you so much."

leaving a kiss on your neck, he moved onto your collarbone, kissing and sucking softly. hamzah was marking you as if he needed people to know you were his, which he, in fact, did. low moans exited his mouth the more he sucked the soft and supple skin that was exposed. the more he marked, the harder you breathed and begged for more.

he remembered the soft spot that you had from three years ago: a specific area on your neck closer to your ear. taking that area he kissed it with a softness you haven't felt in years, then continued to suck a dark purple bruise with a roughness you craved in his absense. hearing the moan you let out, you felt hamzah grin against your skin.

afterwards, he decided to bite the area, causing a soft scream exit the back of your throat. gripping onto his hair harder, he led out a low groan. you both had no plans on stopping, until the power went back on.

hamzah stared at all the marks he made on you, as if he was picasso and you were his canvas. both of your eyes no longer held resentment: instead, adoration and love appeared in the glint of your irises. you noticed that hamzah's hair was a mess, as well as yours, as you both attempted to catch your breaths.

"what do we tell mandy?"

you were confused, "what?"

"uh, i kinda-"

you noticed your reflection in the stainless steel walls; you looked like you were attacked by a leaf blower in the reverse setting.

your eyes enlarged, "holy shit-"

"i'm sorry, did i go too far?"

"no, baby," you kissed him lightly on the lips, "i wanted you to go that far."

"i'm sorry for hurting you. i was already planning on apologizing during this trip," he held your hand, "but, now, i wanna ask you something else."

"which is?"

"will you take me back?"

"you gotta convince me that it'll be worth it."

he kissed your forehead, "even if it takes my whole life and everything i have. i promise you."

--

author's note

do u guys want more nsfw.. or do i stick to my angst with no smut...

[afra-blueraz]

|| Diabolik Lovers Secret Memories Headcanons ||

Shu knew Yui since childhood and was secretly in love with her.

He and Yui were best friends at school when they were teenagers and secretly dated each other.

Shu was from a noble family, that's why he hid his love for Yui from everyone.

Their memories and secret dates continued for years.

Shu always dated Yui in one of the farthest cafes in the city and always brought her flowers as a gift.

One day he held her hand in a flower shop and kissed her for the first time and proposed to her.

They run away together to start their romantic life away from the hustle and bustle of others.

Reiji first met Yui at university.

Yui was a beautiful, dignified and very hardworking girl.

Yui and Reiji always met each other in the university library.

Yui always got help from Reiji for her studies.

Over time, Reiji fell in love with Yui and the two started dating.

Reiji always invited Yui to the park, library and cafe.

One day Reiji proposed to Yui in a park with a bouquet of flowers and a beautiful ring and gently hugged her and kissed her lips.

Reiji introduced Yui to his family and introduced her as his future wife.

Ayato is one of the bad boys in high school that all the girls liked.

But he secretly had a crush on one of the most beautiful and cutest girls in his class, but he never revealed it.

He always teased and bullied Yui.

But when no one sees them, he kisses her and smiles at her.

No one knew about Yui and Ayato's relationship. They only spent time together after finishing school and sometimes went to the cinema together.

On one of the rainy nights when the two of them were under the rain, Ayato threw his jacket over Yui's head and kissed her.

and told her that she will be only Ayato's forever.

Kanato was a boy who had no friends because of his mental problems.

Yui was the only one who was kind to him and loved him.

Kanato loved Yui. More than anyone else.

In his opinion, Yui was as beautiful as dolls.

Yui and Kanato used to go to the doll shop together and Yui decorated various dolls for Kanato.

Kanato had a rich family bought Yui a lot of clothes because he wanted her to be beautiful like dolls.

On Valentine's Day, Kanato buys a teddy bear for Yui and kisses her and expresses his love to her.

Laito fell in love with Yui from the first day he saw her and kept flirting with her.

Yui was very shy at first, but when their relationship became serious, Yui gradually got used to it.

Laito's favorite place to hang out with Yui was in the park, and every time they sat on the bench and talked, Laito would kiss Yui's cheek every time Yui smiled.

Laito had told Yui many times that he would like to date her at home to do exciting things, but Yui was embarrassed and refused every time.

Finally, on an autumn day while they were sitting in the park and watching the orange leaves, Laito kissed Yui and proposed to her.

Subaru had a crush on Yui from the first time he met her.

Known as the scary and lonely high school boy, Subaru had no friends.

But he saved Yui many times from school bullies and blushed every time he looked at her.

Yui kissed his cheek every time to thank him and Subaru blushed more and just shouted.

They always saw each other in the school gym.

Yui always liked to share her food with Subaru because apparently Subaru didn't have any food with him.

Yui was the one who took the lead in inviting him and invited him for a walk several times.

Finally, on a rainy day, while they were taking shelter in a small store with wet clothes, Subaru wiped the raindrops on Yui's cheek with his finger and kissed her lips and proposed to her.

Ruki was a genius in high school and Yui was his classmate.

Yui and Ruki were grouped together in a school project.

They met in the school library to work on this project.

Yui admired Ruki a lot and always tried to help him.

According to Ruki, Yui was a very cute and clumsy girl, but he praised her efforts.

Ruki gradually became interested in Yui and asked her for date.

Their dates were usually in libraries or book cafes where they could spend time together in a quiet place.

With the passing of time, Ruki became very fond of Yui's sweet and kind personality and gave her the title of angel.

Ruki always brings Yui chocolates and books as gifts.

One day in a quiet library, while Yui was explaining her favorite book to Ruki and smiling sweetly, Ruki gently grabbed Yui's waist and pulled her towards him and kissed her lips.

Ruki gave Yui a ring and proposed to her on a spring day at a spring festival where they were both wearing kimonos.

Kou was a famous Japanese idol who secretly had a crush on his classmate Yui Komori.

But because of his job, he had never announced this publicly.

One day, while wearing a mask so that no one would recognize him and walking in the city, he saw Yui staring at his billboard.

He was so excited that he decided to announce it on the TV show and introduce Yui as his crush.

Kou had confessed to Yui at school and Yui was very embarrassed.

Kou repeatedly invited Yui to the Carnival and park.

The two of them had a very good relationship and most of their dates were secret, and Kou wore black clothes and a mask in most of the dates so that no one would recognize him.

But some time later, Yui was harassed by Kou's fangirls in social media.

This upset Kou so much that he quit his job and ran away with Yui to another city.

They started a happy life together and after two years, Kou proposed to Yui in a park while kissing her.

Yuma first met Yui in the school greenhouse.

Each of the students had a responsibility and Yui was in charge of the greenhouse. Yuma also joined Yui.

The school's greenhouse didn't have a good situation, but after months of Yuma and Yui's efforts, it revived.

Yuma gradually fell in love with Yui and their secret dates were in the greenhouse.

Finally, one day Yuma kissed Yui in the greenhouse and expressed his love for her.

Azusa was a strange boy who was always bullied by students because of his strange behavior.

Yui defended him once and that made Azusa fall in love with Yui.

At first, Azusa was very clingy and this scared Yui.

But as time passed, Yui realized how sweet and kind Azusa is and fell in love with him.

Azusa and Yui's dates were in the school art class and secretly so that no one would disturb Azusa.

Azusa always gave his handmade gifts to Yui.

One day, while Azusa had invited Yui for a walk in a park, he took her hand in his and kissed her and proposed to her.

Carla was a transfer student who apparently came from an noble family.

All the students were afraid of him and no one wanted to be in his group except Yui.

Yui was paired with Carla in the school project and helped him a lot.

Carla found Yui charming and kind and liked her sweet and kind personality.

Carla invited Yui to his family mansion and confessed to her in a lavish dance ceremony.

Some time passed and Carla bought a lot of expensive gifts for Yui and they had many dates together.

Several years later, at a family dance, Carla got down on one knee in front of Yui and proposed to Yui, and kissed her when Yui accepted.

Shin was a transfer student from a noble family.

Unlike his older brother, he did not behave like an noble at all and was a noisy student.

He was very scary and all the students were afraid of his bullying.

The only one who stood up to his abuse was Yui.

The fact that a petite girl didn't obey him bothered Shin a lot, and he tried to bully Yui more, but it didn't work.

Shin decided to tease Yui in another way, that's why he decided to play the role of her lover.

One day he confessed to her but Yui refused.

Shin got more and more annoyed by Yui's behavior but decided to trap Yui in the secret places of the school and punish her.

But every time he did that, he found himself unable to tease her until one day he couldn't control himself and kissed her.

Kino was a student who did not have a good relationship with his family and his only friend was Yui.

He was friends with Yui since childhood and their friendship continued until high school.

Since Kino had a family issues, Yui's affection gave him a good feeling and he fell in love with Yui from an early age.

But he never told her anything.

One day, Kino invited Yui to a game club and confessed to Yui there.

[padfootagain]

Love in Verses (XX)

Chapter 20 : My heart has made its mind up and I’m afraid it’s you

Hi! Here is a new chapter! Valentine’s day is here… wondering how Andrew is going to cope with it, huh?

I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 2477

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

Valentine

My heart has made its mind up And I’m afraid it’s you. Whatever you’ve got lined up, My heart has made its mind up And if you can’t be signed up This year, next year will do. My heart has made its mind up And I’m afraid it’s you.

Wendy Cope

Andrew had a date tonight.

He hadn’t been on a first date since Sam, obviously, he felt rusty and nervous. He didn’t even know the woman, Alex had set up the date. Christina, that was her name. A year younger than him, working as a nurse at St James’s Hospital. Alex had showed him a picture, she was pretty. Apparently, she was nice and a lot of fun. Why not give her a chance?

Andrew was desperate at that point. Desperate to see if he could ever move on from Sam, desperate to prove himself that he didn’t have a crush on you. That this was nothing serious, just his heart longing for companionship when he felt so lonely these days. Besides, it was Valentine’s Day, he was so painfully lonely, he needed to focus on something else than his love life in shambles. He needed to try to move on. And if he did, he needed to do so with a woman who wasn’t you.

So, he had accepted Alex’s offer, had booked a table at a nice restaurant, had tried to look his best for tonight. Elwood was staying with Jon for the evening, he didn’t have to worry about going home late.

And now, there he was, running five minutes late as he walked inside the restaurant, but for his standard, he called that a win. Five minutes… who would care for five minutes?

Apparently, Christina would.

He had a shy but polite smile on his face when he spotted her across the room. He was polite as he took a seat. Meanwhile, she gave him a tight-lipped smile.

“Was there any traffic tonight?” she asked, and Andrew knew at once what she was talking about.

“Erm… it just… took me longer than I thought it would to drop my dog off at my brother’s. Sorry about that. I hope you didn’t wait for too long.”

“No, it’s okay,” she admitted, and she seemed to relax knowing the reason for his short delay. “It’s a nice place you’ve chosen, by the way.”

“Yeah? Glad you like it. Should we take a look at the menu, then?”

They quickly ordered their food, and then began the usual dance of questions that came with trying to learn the most basic things about a person while they waited for their meal.

“So… Alex told me you’re a professor? At Trinity?”

“I am,” Andrew nodded, before drinking a gulp of water. “Assistant professor, actually.”

“What’s the difference?”

“Erm… the paycheck, definitely,” Andrew joked, making Christina smile. “It’s a different rank at University… extremely hierarchical organisation. I don’t have a chair. I give classes, I do research, but I don’t have the same prestige and don’t own a chair for my work.”

“Right…”

“Which is normal, I’m not complaining. Chairs are rare, I’ll probably have to wait another decade to get the rank of professor.”

She didn’t seem reassured by that, Andrew wasn’t sure what to make of it.

“For how long have you been working at Saint James?” Andrew asked back.

“A couple of years.”

“Do you like it there?”

“Yeah… I guess,” she shrugged, and Andrew waited for her to say more about the matter, but she didn’t.

“And so… what do you teach at Trinity?” she asked after a short silence.

“Erm… English. Contemporary poetry, mainly, but I cover a lot of modernism as well through novels.”

She blinked a couple of times.

“Right… so… you like books.”

He gave her an amused smile.

“You can say that.”

“The last book I’ve read was a mandatory reading in high school,” she admitted.

“The last time I cleaned up a wound without feeling sick was… never. So, I guess we’re even,” Andrew offered with a smile, and Christina nodded.

And it was alright, of course. People had many interests. And his partner didn’t have to be interested in the same things as he did. Sam was the perfect example of that. Still… he didn’t really know what to talk about next.

They spent the next few minutes making chit chat, but it was laborious at best. Andrew used a moment of silence in the conversation to take a look around. The restaurant was obviously busy on Valentine’s Day. The decoration was simple but aesthetically pleasing; candles and white or red roses added to each table to enhance the theme of the evening. There were only couples around.

Only couples…

“Andy?”

He turned around, recognising the voice in an instant.

He couldn’t help it, his face fell for a second, before he could summon the strength to hide his reaction.

The universe itself was set against him at this point…

He got up, forced a smile to greet Sam and Frank.

“It’s so funny finding you here!”

“Yeah… wasn’t expecting to see you!” he forced a smile.

Frank noticed Christina then.

“Oh, honey, we’re disturbing Andrew, I think. Sorry, about that,” he was genuine in his apology as he warmly smiled at Christina.

Sam flinched, but quickly smiled as well.

“Oh, sorry! Have a nice evening you two!”

They moved away quickly, reaching their own table. Just a couple of tables away. Right where Andrew could see them whenever he looked up from his plate.

Nice… grand…

“Erm… what are your hobbies?” he asked out of the blue, trying to get the conversation going again, if only to distract himself from Frank and Sam holding hands across their table.

“Oh… not much. I don’t really have the time for those… I like running.”

“Nice!”

“Do you like jogging?”

“Erm… not that much. But I love swimming.”

“I can’t swim.”

“Right… do you like the sea anyway? Like… the beach? Running on the beach, maybe?”

“Not really, no. I’m not very interested in the sea. It’s a little scary.”

“Oh, okay.”

Andrew focused on his meal, but with every painful question asked and answered, it was more and more obvious that they had nothing in common.

A couple of tables away, Frank and Sam were sharing food, a habit Andrew knew Sam hated. They were holding hands, and giggling, and looking so disgustingly in love, while he was on his own, while he wanted that intimacy back, while he thought of you…

Andrew wasn’t sure at which point of the evening you had popped into his mind, but you were all he could think of, right now. He had mentioned that he was going on a date, but you had not given him any details concerning your plans for the evening. You would call your friend Siobhán, you had mentioned some ice cream… were you reading? Watching crappy tv or a good movie? Had you changed your plans? Were you on a date as well?

Andrew couldn’t refrain the bitter taste of jealousy as he thought of you with someone else… as he imagined you in his shoes, at a nice restaurant, meeting with a stranger, and perhaps you would let him hold your hand across the table and would kiss him at the end of the evening, and even spend the night with him…

A wave of nausea made it impossible for him to finish his plate as he thought of you in another man’s bed.

The couple dining at the table right next to Andrew’s started raising their voices. Not enough to draw attention from the entire restaurant, but enough for Andrew and Christina to overhear everything. An argument was brewing. Jealousy and an unhealthy relationship at its peak.

In a matter of five minutes, the two were almost shouting at each other. Andrew and Christina exchanged an embarrassed look while the guy complained about how often they had sex.

And Sam was still there, every time he looked up. And you were all he could think of. And Christina was nice, sure, but they were absolutely incompatible on every level.

And then the last straw came.

“Are you religious?” she asked, and Andrew shook his head.

“No, not really, no.”

“Oh…”

“What about you?”

“Yes, very.”

“Oh…”

“Is that… like… are you just not going to church, or…”

“I… I don’t know. I’m an agnostic, I would say.”

“A what?”

“Agnostic. I don’t know if there’s a God up there or not. I’m… neutral, I guess you could say it like that. But I wouldn’t go to church even if I did believe in God.”

“Really? Why not?”

“I’m wary of any institution run by men that uses its power to dictate how people should behave, including in the most private parts of their lives.”

She blinked, struggling with this new information.

“So… you would never practice religion…”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Right… Cause it’s a very important part of my life.”

“And I respect that.”

“But you would not start believing.”

“Why would I?”

“For me?”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Would you think it was okay if I asked you to give up on your faith to be in a relationship with me?”

“Of course not!”

“Then… how can you ask? We can have different beliefs…”

“But you’re wrong.”

“I can’t be wrong, Christina. It’s faith. And it’s the definition of faith to believe without proof. You can’t say I’m wrong, and I can’t say you are. We just have different faiths.”

She nodded, but had stopped eating.

Next to them the angry couple raised their voices again.

“Can I be brutally honest?” she asked, her voice softer now.

Andrew merely nodded.

“You’re clearly a really nice lad, Andy. And I’m not going to deny that Alex was right when he said that you’re definitely my type. But… it looks like we… don’t match.”

Andrew gave her a kind smile.

“I agree,” he nodded. “I don’t think our lives are very compatible.”

“Not really no.”

“You’re good craic though. And you’re… gorgeous, to be honest.”

“Thanks.”

“I don’t think we’d be able to find common things to build a relationship on, though.”

“Me neither. Would you mind if we called it a night?”

“No… no, I don’t mind, I understand.”

“Thanks.”

They paid for their food, left the restaurant while the couple bickered and Frank and Sam were still in love. Andrew waited for Christina to get safely in an uber, before he would walk to his own car.

He heaved a sigh, tried not to cry.

Everywhere he went, Sam’s ghost followed.

Whatever he did, you were always on his mind.

Were you home safe and sound? What were you doing? Was there a man with you?

He reached for his phone, his car still silent in the carpark. He touched your name on his screen, and you answered after three rings.

“Andy?”

“Hi, Y/N! You’re alright ?”

“Sure! Just… about to watch some adorable romcom to remind myself of unattainable standards concerning men and relationships, will most certainly have a good cry over the fact that the man I wanted to marry is probably getting amazing sex with his new fiancée, and I will definitely eat my weight in ice cream. You? How was your date? It’s early still… did everything go well?”

“Argh… don’t mention it. Everything about it was awful.”

He described his evening, and you listened, commented, interjected every now and then.

“You deserve to eat your weight in ice cream too,” you stated.

“I think I do, yeah… although… I think I’ll just go to bed once I’m home.”

“Are you driving?”

“No, no… don’t worry. I just… I felt bad. So, I called you before leaving the parking lot in front of the restaurant. I can see all those disgustingly happy couples walk out of there hand in hand…”

“Outrageous. Don’t they know we’re mourning?!”

“No decency. And God, I hate Valentine’s Day…”

“Me too… I feel… so empty today. Frank and I used to always go to the cinema on Valentine’s Day. He always stole all my popcorn. I found that adorable.”

He heard you sniffing, his heart broke at the sound. He wished he could have been there, hold you tight until the tears would subside, until he could make you smile again.

“What would you have done with Sam?” you asked, your voice hoarse with sorrow.

Andrew shrugged, stared at the night sky, made utterly black by the clouds.

“A restaurant, probably. Flowers. Nothing too fancy, but it would have been nice.”

He struggled to swallow, his throat tightening.

“Frank and Sam were sharing their food.”

“Hmm? Yeah, Frank does that sometimes.”

“Sam hates it. She hates it. She never wanted me to touch her food. Why does she let him do that, then?”

A short silence, your answer in a whisper.

“To make him happy.”

Andrew pondered on your words. You were right, obviously. When he spoke again, his voice was low and soft, barely above a whisper.

“I really wish I didn’t have to do that again to be loved.”

“Do what?”

“Pretend. Change. Stop… being myself sometimes.”

You were quiet, but you were still there. He knew it. He could hear you breathing in the phone. And beyond that reassuring sound, he just knew you were listening. He was never sure with Sam.

“I’d really like that too,” you whispered, and he hummed in response.

A happy couple came out of the restaurant then. Andrew watched them reach their car, laughing, holding hands. He felt so fucking lonely… So utterly alone in this world. No one knew him like that anymore…

“Y/N?”

“Hmm?”

“Can you promise me something?”

“What is it?”

“Promise me you… promise me you’ll never change for me. Promise me you won’t pretend. I want you to…”

He cleared his throat, brushing the tears that had gathered at the corners of his eyes.

“I want you to be yourself when I’m around. Can you do that?”

He heard you sniffing again. You were quiet for a moment, but Andrew knew you were nodding, he could hear the quiet hum that went with it.

“Andy?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you. Thank you, Andy.”

You sniffed, struggled through a few words, but Andrew was patient, he was drying his cheeks on his sleeves anyway.

“I don’t want you to pretend either when you’re with me, you know?”

“I know.”

He was lying. He didn’t know. He didn’t know at all. He didn’t know how to be loved, except by not quite being himself.

You both remained silent for a while, but it was still reassuring to know that you were there, on the other end of the line. Andrew should have hung up then. He should have let you watch your cheesy movie, and eat your ice cream. Instead, he spoke again.

“I’ve finished Dante, by the way.”

He spent the next forty-five minutes talking about Inferno with you. And after the call had ended, and he was finally driving home, it was harder than ever to deny that he wanted you.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

today I've been reminded of detective comics annual 8, which is my favorite of ed's comic appearances, so I thought I'd ask you what's your favorite riddle guy comic and why?

god DC annual #8 makes me INSANE that's like. pure distilled Riddler sauce right there. absolute platonic ideal of the Riddler. he is perfect to me. somebody surgically wire that into Tom King's brain before they ever let him write the Riddler again I swear to god.

I'm still working on my New Earth read through so I'm finding new faves all the time, but as of this exact minute some faves:

I fucking hate to hand it to Chuck Dixon but Detective Comics #705-707 (Dixon, Graham Nolan, and David Roach, 1997) is so so good. like he's literally just trying to do a stupid baseball heist and blow up Cluemaster while he's at it. THAT is a Riddler story, babey. Echo and Query are even there!!!

Impulse #48 (Bill Messner-Loebs and Craig Rousseau, 1999) is just a spectacular one off Riddler appearance, namely because you get the strong impression that if left alone with Bart for like. two hours. Eddie would probably willingly kill himself. very fun watching his schtick absolutely crumble in the face of a speedster.

Batman Adventures Vol. 2 (worked on by like half a dozen different writers, 2003). honestly the BTAS version of the Riddler was never anything spectacular to me - he's fun, not a standout - but goddd he rules so hard in the sequel comics. he's (once again) retired and made legitimate money, so now he's so desperately bored he's harassing Batman with stupid non-crimes until Batman snaps and just starts using him as a private detective so he'll have something to do. mwah.

Batman Confidential #26-28 (Nunzio DeFilippis, Christina Weir, Kevin Nowlan, and José Luis García-López, 2009), which is collected as Batman: King Tut's Tomb. another banger story, it has everything I like. namely, the Riddler being so annoying that Batman lets him work a case with him and bitchy buddy comedy shenanigans ensue. and King Tut is there!

Dinner for Two (Ram V and Phil Hester) in Strange Love Adventures (2022) #1 is so... like they just went for it. they said fuck it the Riddler bisexual and spending his Valentine's Day making Batman hang out with him to complain about how he's lonely. make of that whatever you want.

Catwoman: Lonely City (Cliff Chiang, 2022). an older, widowed Riddleguy who's kicked his riddle habit (in addition to, apparently, a pretty brutal coke problem) and is settled in to running slightly more normal grifts with his adorable daughter Edelia. look at them. I have to show you this because I just like Chiang's art so so much, look at themmm

also obligatory shoutout to the Riddler appearance of all time, whichever issue of Bruce Wayne: Murderer?/Fugitive is the one where he's crashing at Stephanie Brown's house being a fucking menace and Black Canary kicks him out on his ass in five seconds flat while he's wearing a fluffy yellow bathrobe. and also kicks Cluemaster out of his own house for good measure.

[thealmightea]

🔁 reblog if you ship this couples like me...

[ come back for more to check for the newest because believe me when I said this will continue til the end of time ^^ because apparently I like collecting ships like collecting stamps or coins or cards. ]

[ there's canon and non-canon (probably semi-canon too) here, so if you don't like them as a couple/don't ship them/your ship is not here, don't come at me pls T.T ]

[ if there is good movies or series that you want to recommend to me and you think I should watch them, reply on my post down below at the end of this post or send me a message ;) ]

in alphabetical order

9-1-1 - Eddie and Buck (Buddie)

9-1-1 Lone Star - Carlos and T.K (Tarlos)

Addicted - Gu Hai and Bai Luoyin (Haioyin/Heroin)

Addicted - You Qi and Yang Meng

Alles was zählt - Deniz and Roman (Dero)

All of Us Strangers - Adam and Harry

Arrêstes avec tes mensonges - Thomas and Stéphane

Animal Kingdom - Deran and Adrian (Derdrian)

Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe - Aristotle and Dante (Aridante)

As The World Turn - Noah and Luke (Nuke)

Brothers & Sisters - Kevin and Scotty

Call Me By Your Name - Oliver and Elio (Olio)

Casualty - Jez and Mickey

Class - Matteusz and Charlie

Cuffs - Simon and Jake

Days Of Our Own - Sonny and Will (Wilson)

Dead Boy Detective - Charles and Edwin (Charwin)

Degrassi - Dylan and Marco

Degrassi - Miles and Tristan

Degrassi - Riley and Zane (Ziley)

Demain Nous Appartient - Rayane and Jack (Jayane)

EastEnders - Christian and Syed (Chryed)

El Cor De La Ciutat - Iago and Max (Maxiago)

El juego de las llaves - Valentin and Daniel

Emmerdale - Robert and Aaron (Robron)

Eu Não Quero Voltar Sozinho and Hoje Eu Quero Voltar Sozinho - Gabriel and Leonardo

Élite - Omar and Ander (Omander)

Eyewitness - Lukas and Phillip (Philkas)

Fellow Travelers - Hawk and Tim

Firebird - Roman and Sergey

Fisica O Quimica - Fernando and David

Free! - Makoto and Haru (Makoharu)

Free! - Rei and Nagisa (Nagirei)

Free! - Sōsuke and Rin

Freier Fall - Kay and Marc

Glee - Blaine and Kurt (Klaine)

Goede tijden, slechte tijden - Lucas and Edwin (Ludwin)

Grey's Anatomy - Nico and Levi (Schmico)

Hannibal - Hannibal and Will (Hannigram)

Hawaii Five O - Steve and Danno (McDanno)

Heartstopper - Nick and Charlie (Narlie)

Hit The Floor - Zero and Jude (Zude)

How To Get Away With Murder - Connor and Oliver (Coliver)

Hunter x Hunter - Leorio and Kurapika (Leopika)

In The Flesh - Simon and Kieren (Siren)

Interview with The Vampire - Lestat and Louis (Loustat)

Julie and The Phantoms - Alex and Willie

Kuroko no Basket - Aomine and Kise (Aokise)

Kuroko no Basket - Kagami and Kuroko (Kagakuro)

Kuroko no Basket - Kiyoshi and Hyūga (Kiyouga)

Kuroko no Basket - Midorima and Takao (Midokao)

Kuroko no Basket - Murasakibara and Himuro (Murahimu)

Legacies - Ben and Jed (Benjed)

Les Misérables - Enjolras and Grantaire (Enjoltaire)

Looking - Eddie and Agustín

Looking - Kevin and Patrick

Looking - Richie and Patrick

Love and Deepspace - Sylus and Xavier (Crowstar)

Love and Deepspace - Zayne and Rafayel (Snowfish)

Love Simon - Simon and Bram

Love Victor - Victor and Benji (Venji)

Man In An Orange Shirt - Steve and Adam

Man In An Orange Shirt - Michael and Thomas (Berrymarch)

Mario - Mario and Leon

Matthias & Maxime - Matthias and Maxime

MCU - Steve and Bucky (Stucky)

MCU - Spiderman and Deadpool (Spideypool)

MCU - Wolverine and Deadpool (Poolverine)

Merlí - Pol and Bruno (Brunol)

Merlin - Arthur and Merlin (Merthur)

Merlin - Percival and Gwaine (Perwaine)

Mo Dao Zu Shi / The Untamed - Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian (Wangxian)

Nadie Nos Va A Extrañar - Alex and Rafa

O Beijo do Escorpião - Paulo and Miguel

One Live To Life - Oliver and Kyle

Oz - Chris and Tobias

Please Like Me - Arnold and Josh

Please Like Me - Geoffrey and Josh

Prisma - Daniele and Andrea (Dandrea

Queer As Folk - Ben and Michael

Queer As Folk - Brian and Justin (Britin)

Queer As Folk - Drew and Emmett

Queer As Folk - Ted and Blake

Raw - Geoff and Pavel

Rebelde -Luka and Okane

Red White And Royal Blue - Alex and Henry (Firstprince)

Roswell New Mexico - Michael and Alex (Malex)

Rykter - Mathias and Erik

Salatut Elämät - Lari and Elias (Larias)

Sala Samobójców - Aleksander and Dominik

Schloss Einstein - Noah and Colin (Nolin)

School 2013 - Heungsoo and Namsoon (Heungsoon)

Sense8 - Lito and Hernando

Sex Education - Adam and Eric

Shadowhunters - Magnus and Alec (Malec)

Shadowhunters - Raphael and Simon

Shameless - Ian and Mickey (Gallavich)

Skam - Even and Isak (Evak)

Skam Belgium (Wtfock) - Sander and Robbe (Sobbe)

Skam France - Eliott and Lucas (Elu)

Skam Germany (Druck) - David and Matteo (Datteo)

Skam Italia - Niccolo and Martino (Martinico)

Solo - Oskar and Milo

Spartacus - Agron and Nasir (Nagron)

Spartacus - Barca and Pietros (Bietros)

Station 19 - Travis and Emmett

Suits - Harvey and Mike

Supernatural - Dean and Castiel (Destiel)

Tatort Saarbrücken - Adam and Leo (Hörk)

Teen Wolf - Danny and Ethan

Teen Wolf - Derek and Stiles (Sterek)

The Eagle - Marcus and Esca (Mesca)

The Halcyon - Toby and Adil

The Magicians - Quentin and Eliot (Queliot)

The Maze Runner - Newt and Thomas (Newtmas)

The Night Shift - Drew and Rick

The Old Guard - Joe and Nicky (Joenicky)

The Originals - Aiden and Josh (Jaiden)

The Quarry - Dylan and Ryan (Rylan)

The Silmarillion - Melkor and Mairon (Angbang)

The Society - Sam and Grizz

The Walking Dead - Aaron and Eric

Torchwood - Jack and Ianto (Janto)

Verbotene Liebe - Oliver and Christian (Chrolli)

Voltron Legendary Defender - Keith and Lance (Klance)

Waterloo Road - Preston and Kai

Young Royal - Wilhelm and Simon (Wilmon)

Yuri! On Ice - Victor and Yuuri (Victuuri)

... to be continued ...

❣ Give me some recs pls ❣

❣ If you want to read the stories/fics about them, from talented and great authors, you can look for it on my list of collection archives, created each of the couples. ❣

[tameodesza]

promises

Bodyguard!Kevin x Male Escort!Shawn 

₊˚ʚ Summary: When Shawn feels down on Valentine’s Day, Diesel reminds him that he’s worthy of love. AO3.

₊˚ʚ a/n: gets smutty near the end 👀

Of all the holidays, one would think Shawn’s most profitable time of the year would be Valentine’s Day. His home should be flooded with gifts from lonely men. His phone should be ringing off the hook with clients begging for an ounce of his attention, fighting to be the highest bidder. 

However, Valentines Day also seemed to be the one day Shawn’s clients suddenly remembered they had spouses appease. Instead of spoiling the blond in riches, they were busy arranging apologetic floral deliveries, gifting shut-up rings to their significant others, or booking last-minute reservations at some nice restaurant. 

These men had a status to uphold, a facade to maintain. What well-respected executive would want to be seen on such a special day courting a whore? 

Yes, that was about Hunter. And yes, it still stung knowing that even Shawn’s favorite client didn’t have time for him.  

Hunter had called earlier that morning to squeeze in a round of phone sex. But the session was cut short when Shawn asked, “what are you getting me for Valentine’s Day, daddy?” Hunter had apparently forgotten all about the holiday, rushing off the phone to get some half-assed gift for his wife. Shawn was left there listening to the dial tone, wondering what the hell happened. 

Hunter had been the only client to contact him that day, which would normally be fine. Shawn was usually booked and busy, so any free time was welcome. But on a day where the significance of love was constantly shoved in his face, his free schedule only served as a reminder of how undesirable he was. He was just a pretty face. A good time. A great lay. But he wasn’t hubby material. He wasn’t someone to claim. And even on a day of love, he wasn't worthy of any. 

Shawn leaned against the door frame of his guest room trying not to look as sad as he was. It was odd being on the sidelines, watching as Diesel prepared to step out for the night. Any hopes of enjoying his free time with the company of his bodyguard was crushed ten minutes earlier when the man casually mentioned, “I got plans.” 

Shawn followed Diesel’s every move, never too far behind as the man styled his hair, sprayed on cologne, and adjusted his clothes in front of the full-length mirror. Shawn silently hoped he’d change his mind. That the holes he burned in the back of Diesel’s head would telepathically convince him to stay in instead of going out on a date.  

Shawn still couldn't wrap his mind around it. Maybe it was because he was too self-centered to believe that Diesel had anyone else in his life besides him. Or maybe it was because he thought his unspoken claim on his bodyguard was obvious. But the thought of Diesel enjoying the company of someone else left Shawn with mixed emotions. 

Part of Shawn was happy for him. Diesel had been by his side for over a year at this point, barely taking time off for himself. It was about time that he put himself first. But Shawn couldn’t help but be bitter about it. 

“Is she pretty?” 

Diesel’s hand froze on the cuff he was latching, Shawn’s question coming off stronger than intended. He looked in the mirror, catching Shawn’s eyes. “He. And yes.”  

‘He,’ Shawn mouthed to himself as he looked away, missing the subtle smile on Diesel’s lips. “Must be nice.” Shawn twirled his hair, trying to seem unbothered. But he was curious to know who’d managed to catch his bodyguard’s attention. “Do I know him?” 

Diesel moved to the dresser in search of a pair of socks. “Yes.” 

Shawn tilted his head, already thinking of the possibilities. If they both knew the person, he wondered if it was someone from his stripping days. There were more than a few dancers interested in Diesel back then. He was even more of a catch now, especially since growing out his hair.  

Or maybe, heaven forbid, one of Shawn’s clients had fallen for the man. But that was highly unlikely given how intimidating Diesel could be. They wouldn't have time to fall for him before Diesel scared them off. 

Regardless, it didn’t matter. Because whoever it was must've been special enough for Diesel to make a move. 

“What if this guy’s, like, a serial killer or something?” 

Diesel let out a humored breath. “I can handle myself.” 

Shawn felt hopeless as his hints flew over Diesel’s head. He sat on the bed with a loud dramatic sigh, waiting for Diesel to say something – anything. But the man seemed more interested in double-knotting his shoelaces. Shawn gave another sigh, this one louder than the last. 

Diesel wiped away a knowing smile before approaching Shawn. “Is something wrong?” 

“It’s nothing.” Shawn waved a dismissive hand that fooled nobody. 

“You and I both know that’s not true.” Diesel kneeled before him, placing his hands on Shawn’s knees. “What is it? You’re gonna miss me or something?” 

That had been Shawn’s cue to laugh, his chance to downplay how he really felt as he always had. Yet, he couldn’t. Not when he looked into Diesel’s eyes, wondering ‘what if.’ What if he answered honestly? What if he admitted that, yes, he would miss him? Not because Diesel was his bodyguard. Not because he was his friend. But because he didn't want to give Diesel away.  

Selfishly, Shawn didn't want Diesel meeting with this mystery man, becoming smitten with him, sleeping with him, or worse, falling in love with him. No, Shawn wanted Diesel to himself, no matter how hypocritical it was to expect that.  

But Shawn also couldn't escape reality. He chose a life of whoring himself out for nice things. He was a showpiece, a shiny trophy meant to be flaunted, but too shameful to take home to meet the parents. He couldn’t expect any man to seriously want him – not even Diesel. 

Shawn gave an unconvincing smile as he smoothed down a few of Diesel’s curly strands. “Don’t worry about me, Kev. I’ll be fine. Go enjoy your date with the lucky guy.” 

But Diesel was slow to make a move, holding their gaze as if searching for something. Shawn’s eyes seemed foggy, as if masking a truth too murky to decipher. 

Diesel stood tall with a slow breath. “Ok. If you say so.” 

Shawn felt instant regret, his eyes closing with a heavy sigh as he listened to Diesel’s retreating footsteps, not finding the words to ask him to stay.  

“Shawn. Look at me.” 

Shawn reluctantly opened his eyes, mentally cursing Diesel for dragging this on. However, he was stunned to see Diesel standing before him with a single red rose in hand.  

“Uh...what’s this?” 

Diesel raised the rose towards Shawn with a sheepish grin. “I figured you’d be busy tonight. But seeing as you’re not...will you be my valentine?” 

Shawn blinked once. Then twice before letting out a shaky breath of disbelief. “B-But what about your date?” 

Diesel inched forward, tugging Shawn’s hand to pull him up from the bed. “I’m looking at him. If you accept, of course.” 

A slow smile crept onto Shawn’s lips, his cheeks reddening from a blush he couldn’t contain. He grabbed the rose, careful of its thorny green spikes. He twisted the stem, sniffing the floral fragrance emanating from its petals. “Way to keep a man waiting.” 

“So, is that a yes?” 

Shawn looked past the rose to Diesel’s nervous grin before closing the gap between them. He placed a soft kiss on Diesel’s cheek, whispering, “Yes. I will be your valentine.” 

- 

The night was spent downtown, arms entwined as they blended into the sea of happy couples. The streets were bathed in pink and red decor. Heart-shaped balloons floated above the crowd. Rose petals lay sprinkled along the sidewalk, spilling from busy flower shops. Every restaurant was packed to the brim, fully booked by those who were wise enough to make reservations ahead of time.  

Diesel and Shawn rarely had moments out like this – moments of normalcy, moments that didn't center around the raunchy business they were running. For one night, they could forget about their obligations and enjoy activities that were usually reserved for couples. They intended on spending every second making the most of their impromptu date. 

Their first stop was at a shop to buy Valentine's Day cards. 

“We need cards, Kev! It’s tradition!” That had been Shawn’s reasoning to hide the fact that he may have been feeding into the idea of their night as a pair more than he thought he would. 

They searched the shop separately, each writing cute little messages on the inside of their cards before gifting them to the other:  

To Shawn,  There’s never a dull moment with you. Thanks for making my days a bit more exciting. Happy Valentine’s Day. - Diesel  

To Diesel Kevin,  Happy V-day, big guy! I hope you didn’t use today as an excuse to keep an eye on me, hehe. Just kidding. I know I’m not the easiest to work with, but I appreciate you always looking out for me. I wouldn’t want to spend today with anyone else. Love you!  - Shawn, your favorite blondie 

Diesel reread Shawn's message at least three times, lingering on the end. He’d heard ‘I love you’ from Shawn plenty of times, but it was always said in jest. But something about the night made it hit different for Diesel.  

When they left the shop, Diesel was nearly dragged across the street when an excited Shawn spotted a food stand selling chocolate-covered strawberries. The dessert was criminally overpriced, but it was worth the radiant smile Shawn gave when Diesel bought him the largest serving. 

“Aww, you really do love me, don’t you,” Shawn cooed, pinching Diesel’s cheek before biting into another delicious treat. 

Diesel chuckled along with Shawn, biting into his own strawberry to stifle a telling response. 

They left the stand to find some ‘real food’ – pizza and wings – before taking a stroll to Lover’s Bridge, a popular spot in town where couples placed locks on the bridge to symbolize their love for one another.  

“What are you doing,” Diesel asked, puzzled as Shawn began digging through his pockets. 

Shawn reached into Diesel’s coat, finally finding the Sharpie he’d been looking for. He uncapped the top with his teeth, writing on a padlock as he uttered, “Locking in our future.”  

He wrote both his and Diesel’s initials, adding a plus sign in the middle before drawing a heart around the letters. He smiled proudly at his masterpiece. “Anything you want to add?” 

Diesel looked at the lock for a moment as if studying art at a museum. Then he grabbed the lock and marker, adding ‘4ever’ below the heart. “Now, it's perfect.” 

Shawn smiled fondly at what he wrote. “Yeah. It is.”  

They attached the lock to the bridge together, the click of the metal sealing their fate. “There,” Shawn said with finality as he held up the lock’s key. “Now you can never leave my side.” 

Diesel’s lips curved into a smile, clasping his hand over Shawn’s before grabbing the key. “Wasn’t planning on it.” He chucked the key into the river, watching it ricochet across the water before sinking below.  

It was in that moment, standing by Diesel’s side as they watched the moon-lit river flow beneath them, that Shawn could no longer ignore the skip in his heart. He’d felt it ever since Diesel gave him that rose. All night, he’d explained it away as excited nerves, as anticipation of the fun he knew he would have with Diesel. Then came the realization – Shawn never felt this way with anyone before, not even his wealthy clients.  

The night had been far from the usual courting Shawn experienced, but it was everything he could have ever wanted. It was authentic, genuine, real. Diesel had been the perfect gentleman – not for an ulterior motive, not for the hope of getting into Shawn’s pants. But because Diesel respected him as a person, saw Shawn for who he was and not what he could gain from the blond.  

That meant a lot to Shawn, and he was done lying to himself – at least for tonight. He glanced at Diesel, the older man unaware of the blond’s pensive gaze. Shawn did something he normally shied away from. He allowed himself to wonder, to indulge in the idea of being with Diesel, to pretend like they weren't as complicated as they were.  

He acknowledged everything he’d felt that night – the pounding in his chest when Diesel gave him the rose, the butterflies in his stomach when Diesel held his hand as they crossed the street, the blush of his cheeks when Diesel dabbed pizza sauce from his chin, the tingly feeling that coursed through his veins when bystanders mistook Diesel for his boyfriend.  

Shawn never corrected them. And neither did Diesel. Because tonight gave them that excuse. 

Late into the night, Shawn crept into the guest room of his condo, slipping into bed with the whisper of Diesel’s name. The room was dark, the soft glow of amber streetlights his only guidance as he settled onto Diesel’s bare chest. Words weren't needed for Diesel. He knew what Shawn wanted, and he desperately wanted the same. 

Shawn peppered light kisses across Diesel’s pecs, navigating up his neck before running a wet tongue across Diesel’s Adam's apple. Diesel swallowed dryly, shifting his Adam's apple against Shawn’s tongue. The blond gave it a kiss before kissing up towards Diesel’s chin.  

He nudged upwards, bumping his nose against Diesel in search of the man’s lips. They both let out a content sigh through their noses when their lips met. Their soft pecks slowly progressed to interlocked lips, heads tilting as their tongues explored familiar territory. 

Shawn pressed his hips down, rubbing their crotches together in need of something more. Diesel gripped tightly onto the blond’s oversized t-shirt before flipping him onto his back. His lips returned to Shawn’s, a curious hand slowly traveling down the blond’s chest. He reached underneath the fabric, surprised and unbelievably turned on when he discovered Shawn wasn’t wearing any underwear. 

They became a mess of limbs, Shawn's shirt flying one direction and Diesel’s boxers flying the other. Their kiss grew greedy, arms clinging around each other, nails clawing at the skin, soft gasps leaving their lips as their dicks rubbed against each other.  

Diesel swiped a finger teasingly against Shawn’s entrance, the blond whining wantonly against his lips. His breathing grew ragged when Diesel inserted a finger, expertly opening him up. Shawn reached a hand down to grab Diesel’s dick, stroking it to match the pace of the finger pumping inside of him.  

“Ah, shit,” Diesel whispered, dipping his head into Shawn’s shoulder. His finger faltered in the blond, it being hard to focus with Shawn skillfully tugging on his dick.  

Diesel added a second finger, then a third, and soon enough Shawn was rocking his hips to basically fuck himself against Diesel’s hand. "Kev,” Shawn gasped as he felt the man's fingers brush against his prostate. 

Diesel bit his lip in restraint as Shawn’s hand quickened on his cock. He knew neither of them would last like this, so he removed his fingers from Shawn before pulling the blond’s hand away. 

Diesel began lining himself at Shawn’s entrance, but stopped when the blond urged, “Condom, condom.” Though Shawn got tested regularly, it was always best to play it safe. 

Diesel searched the room, Shawn watching hungrily as Diesel rolled the condom over his thick cock. Diesel didn’t have a chance to make it back to the bed when Shawn rushed towards him, pulling him into a heated kiss. Diesel was quick to take charge, pressing Shawn firmly against the wall before easily lifting both of his legs. 

Shawn quickly clasped his arms and legs around Diesel to not fall. Diesel held onto his hips, bracing Shawn before inserting his cock slowly into Shawn’s ass. The blond let out a sharp breath, his whimper cut off by Diesel’s lips.  

Diesel kept his pace slow, gently rocking into Shawn to get the blond adjusted. When Shawn began grinding back, silently asking for more, Diesel was more than willing to comply. He quickened the pace, sharply snapping into the man, nearby picture frames rattling as he fucked Shawn into the wall. 

“Oh..oh..oh fuck,” Shawn moaned, his eyes rolling back in pleasure. He could practically feel Diesel in his stomach at this angle. “Shit, your cock is so fucking big. Just like that. Fuck!” 

It was hard for Diesel to respond with how tightly Shawn gripped his cock. He grunted, “You like that, huh? You like the way I fuck you? You want some more, don’t you?” Shawn nodded with the bite of his lip. Diesel slowed his thrusts, demanding, “Let me hear you.” 

“Yes, I want more. Please, give it to me. Please, baby. Please!” 

Diesel’s hips stuttered. “Say that again.” 

Shawn was out of it, way past the point of caring about the slip up. “Baby...fuck me. Fuck me! Baby-ah!” 

Diesel fucked Shawn at a rabbit’s pace, the endearing pet name feeding something in Diesel, making him feel wanted by Shawn. The room was filled with the sound of Diesel’s balls mercilessly slapping against Shawn’s ass, competing with the intense moans pouring from the blond. 

Diesel dropped his head, giving an experimental lick to the blond’s neck. Shawn angled his neck, exposing the skin as he begged, “Mark me.” 

“But your clients-” 

“I don’t care. Make me yours, Kev. Please, baby. Please!” 

Shawn looked almost teary-eyed, his eyes holding so much emotion behind them. Diesel couldn’t tell if it was just dirty talk, or if Shawn even registered what he was saying, but the blond wanting him so badly fed right into his ego. 

Diesel bit into Shawn’s neck, sucking hard on the blond’s skin until there was no doubt hickeys would be left behind.  

Shawn held him close, nails digging into Diesel’s back. “Fuck! Kev, I’m close. I’m so fucking close.” 

At that, Diesel moved them back to the bed, placing Shawn on his back so he could finish comfortably. Diesel grabbed Shawn’s hands, fingers intertwining as he fucked into the younger man, pinning Shawn to the bed with no place to go. Shawn widened his legs, bringing Diesel as close as he could be, deepening his strokes.  

Diesel pressed his head against Shawn’s, looking into the blond’s lust-filled eyes. His dark hair fell over them in a thick curtain, shutting out the world as if they were the only two that mattered.  

A passing thought crossed Shawn’s mind – this is what making love must feel like. Something about him and Diesel just felt...right. Like this was where they were meant to be, who they were meant to share their bodies with. They fit perfectly together, hitting every pleasure point on each other’s body, creating a mold that no one else could fill. 

Unlike other men, Diesel didn’t need a reason to sleep with Shawn. He wasn't running away from a troubled marriage or exploring his sexuality. They weren’t transactional. He got nothing out of it aside from just being with Shawn.  

With Diesel, Shawn felt like he could be the truest version of himself. He didn't have to get dolled up, spending hours shaving his body or plucking his eyebrows like he did for his high maintenance clients. He didn't have to struggle deciding on which lingerie set to wear when Diesel liked him in something as simple as an oversized t-shirt. He didn’t have to check the clock, impatiently waiting for the session to end. Because when it came to Diesel, Shawn didn't want their time to end. 

Sweat trickled down Shawn’s temple as Diesel’s thrusts slowed to a gentle roll of his hips. Their lips met again, this time softer, more tender, as if they were savoring a taste they’d never have again.  

Sometimes Diesel would slip, his kisses becoming too passionate, his thrusts too careful, his thumbs brushing over Shawn’s hands like he was afraid he’d break. Shawn allowed himself to notice, mirroring Diesel’s gentle approach as if to say ‘It’s ok. I know.’ Though they both feigned ignorance, they knew they were connected by something deeper, even if they were too afraid to say it. 

The moment went as soon as it came, Diesel picking the pace to what they were accustomed to. Shawn broke from the kiss with a loud cry when Diesel hit directly on that sensitive bud of nerves. He clenched hard, his ass tightening the grip on Diesel’s cock. 

“Shawn,” Diesel breathed a quivering voice. “Oh, shit. Shawn, I’m-” 

“Me too. Please, don’t stop! Ah!” 

Shawn turned his face into Diesel’s shoulder, but the older man placed a hand on his cheek to pull him back. “Look at me. I want to see that pretty face when you come.” 

Shawn threw his head back when Diesel gave a hard thrust causing heat to pool at his stomach. Diesel latched his lips onto Shawn’s neck, forming another hickey until the blond came shortly after, spurts of come smearing between their chests. Diesel pulled back just in time to see Shawn’s face contorted in pleasure. That was all it took to send him over the edge. He kissed Shawn sloppily, pounding in the blond as he filled his condom. 

He rode out his orgasm, slowing to a stop before pulling out of the blond. He flopped over in a huff, pulling Shawn onto his chest. They stayed like that for a while, holding each other as their breathing evened out. 

This was Shawn’s favorite part. Diesel didn't run off in a hurry to get back to his family. He didn’t scramble for his wallet to slap money on the table for Shawn’s service. He stayed, running his hands through Shawn's hair until the blond began to doze off.  

They fell back into their normal routine – Diesel nudging Shawn awake, carrying him to the tub, placing him on his lap as he ran a bath to get him clean. Except this time, it was for the both of them.  

“I could get used to this,” Shawn sighed, leaning back against Diesel’s chest as the man scrubbed lavender-scented shampoo against his scalp. 

“What, being pampered?” Diesel chuckled, cupping a handful of water to rinse the shampoo out. “That’s nothing out of the norm.” 

“No.” Shawn shifted as best as he could in the small tab, turning so his head’s on Diesel’s shoulder. “Being like this. With you. I like it.” 

There was a meekness to Shawn’s tone, his voice barely above a whisper as if he were hoping Diesel hadn’t heard him. But of course, he had. Shawn could tell by the soft thud he felt against his hand on Diesel’s chest. 

It was hard for Diesel to tell if Shawn was being serious. The blond was a tease, always knowing the right words to say to a man. Diesel had seen it plenty of times with the clients Shawn entertained, oftentimes rolling his eyes at how easy they fell for it. Yet, he couldn't help but fall for it as well. Because the sincerity in Shawn’s eyes told him it wasn't an act.  

“I don’t want tonight to end,” Shawn said in gloom. 

Diesel brought a wet hand to Shawn’s temple, wiping away a few lingering suds. “You know, it doesn’t have to just be tonight.” His hand traveled down Shawn’s neck, brushing past the very visible hickeys he left behind. “We don’t need some holiday to be together...like this. I’m here whenever you need me.” 

Shawn bit his lip, failing to stop the smile from spreading. “I know.” Shawn trailed a finger along Diesel’s chest in thought. “Can you promise me something?” 

“Anything.” 

“If you do manage to find someone, don’t forget about your ol’ pal, ok?” 

Shawn lifted his head with a sad gleam in his eyes, one that Diesel wasn’t sure how to interpret. “What are you talking about?” 

“It’s just...you’re a catch, Kev. You’re nice, handsome, protective, considerate. You’re gonna make someone very happy one day. Just- I hope they’re fine with sharing.” Shawn sure wouldn’t be.  

“Shawn, I don’t-” 

“Just promise me.” 

There was vulnerability in Shawn’s tone, a desperation in his eyes that made Diesel want to chase his worries away. Diesel looped his pinky around Shawn’s, their prune-like skin letting them know they’d been in the water a while. “I promise.” 

Truth was Diesel had no intention of finding someone. The thought hadn’t even crossed his mind since working full-time for Shawn. Most of his days consisted of making sure the blond was safe and sound. A relationship would be a distraction – or at least that was what he told himself. 

“Do you think you’ll ever settle down,” Diesel asked out of curiosity. 

Shawn stilled at the question. Honestly, he hadn't thought that far ahead. Settling down, getting married, possibly having kids – it all seemed far fetched and out of reach for a guy like him.  

Shawn shrugged, “Don’t know. Maybe if I find prince charming.” 

“What if you already have?”  

There was a pause, a heaviness in the air as the question seemed to echo around them. Shawn felt as if he were under a microscope, Diesel’s intense gaze never leaving him as if expecting a certain answer. An answer Shawn had almost been willing to give. 

“Then I guess I’ve been too blind to notice.” 

There was a looming silence, their words dancing on a confession. They were both playing with fire, drifting closer to the inferno of what simmered between them. It was only a matter of time before one of them ventured further, daring to get burned. 

Just then, they were interrupted by the sound of Shawn’s pager going off, the annoying beep notifying him that a client was trying to get in touch. And just like that, they were back to reality. 

Shawn sighed, “Duty calls.” 

He exited the tub in naked glory, grabbing a towel on his way out. Before walking out the door, Shawn stopped and turned to Diesel. “Thanks for tonight, Kev. I mean it.” 

Diesel nodded, returning a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. At that, Shawn headed to his own room to call the number that had been displayed on his pager. Diesel sat in the tub a little longer, the water feeling colder without Shawn in his arms. He’d spent many nights like this, alone to his thoughts, but he felt the immense weight of it right then. 

After being on such a high, he felt so low. Like his life vest had been ripped away, making him fight to stay afloat in rocky waters. Shawn was that life vest, his lifeline, and there was only a matter of time until Diesel could no longer ignore that fact. 

Luckily for him, his lifeline always seemed to come floating back. That much was true when he left the bathroom to find that Shawn had returned to the guest room, sleeping soundly in bed.  

A smile tugged at Diesel’s lips as he slid under the covers. He pulled Shawn close, gently lulling him back to sleep when the blond stirred awake. In the morning, they’d pretend that the passionate night they shared never happened. But for now, they held on tighter, promising to be there when the sun rose.

[haveievermentioned]

So, Deuce was just confirmed as Aro in the most recent episode of Monster High and they just... did it so well.

So to start off, they introduce their version of Valentine's day called "Heartbeast day" where if you say your love, a real heart will drop down in front of you by an unseen but presumably omniscient being. Heath (flame elemental) and Lagoona (Sea monster, known romantic) find Deuce, alone, listening to sad music, in his PJ's and tissues. They assume he is sad because he is lonely and try to set up romantic situations so he HAS to call someone over. It does not work. He subverts every single one. Brings his school to a movie showing, he shares his food with his snakes, he takes a pet on a long walk, etc. In addition it becomes apparent even from that FIRST situation that he isn't sad! Lagoona and Heath are just reading into something not there. He is perfectly happy, and when they start escalating their plans he finally just tells them that. He is happy, he loves himself, he loves his friends, the initial thing was a mis understanding he explains, and he helps them get their nights back in order. In fact, the OMNISCIENT MAGICAL BEING gives him a heart just like the romantic couples. It's just a really solid, explained it in kid friendly terms, and Deuce was just the same, never broken. He is the sweet boy he always is.

[lightyakami]

3k words Read here or on AO3 Content Notes: Set in Canada. Features nonbinary Light & a touch of hurt/comfort. A standalone set in the Nantes Extended Universe (hand me your hand etc.) In which L entirely forgets that Christmas Eve is a romantic holiday in Japan and therefore might mean something to his partner, Light, an international student from Kanto. Light throws a bit of a fit; L scrambles to find a suitable date.

It was clear that Light wanted something, but L could not sort out what it was. Xie had been following him around their apartment all day, close as a cat and just as underfoot.

He had tried asking outright — they were nineteen and twenty respectively, and therefore old enough to hash things out like adults. It was to no avail. All he’s gotten in return was a noncommittal murmur. Apparently part of what Light wanted was for L to figure out xir desires on his own.

And so, bereft of any other option, L had decided the only thing to do was to exercise patience.

It was nearly six PM and he was busily washing the dishes in their kitchen while Light sat on their counter, not helping, when Light finally said, “Where are you taking me for Christmas?”

L looked up, startled. Christmas was in three days. “I hadn’t been — did you want to go somewhere?”

It was the wrong thing to say. Light flushed, and looked away.

It occurred to L, for the first time, that Light might have been thinking of this as a romantic holiday rather than what L generally considered it, which was to say a somewhat cruel expose of everyone’s trauma. Light was an international student in from Kanto; L was given to understand that Christmas over there was closer to Valentine’s day.

“I’m sorry,” he said, more gently this time. “I didn’t realize you’d wanted to do anything. I should have asked. I set up a client. It’s a big day for me, in that sense.”

There were a lot of lonely people around Christmas. He charged a premium on the night before, and then he had a date with Watari on the day-of. Watari was the only person it was profitable enough to sugar for, and anyway L liked him. He was reliable and polite and safe, his favourite client by far.

It simply hadn’t occurred to him that he might be wanted elsewhere.

Light kicked xir feet. “It’s my first one as a girl,” xie said.

L’s heart sunk.

“Ah,” he said. Then, running through options in his head. “Alright. Look. I’ll move things around. The eve is the couple’s bit, isn’t it?”

For a moment, Light didn’t move at all. Then xie nodded, so quickly and slightly that it seemed conveying this information to l was a bit of a chore.

“I’ll move things around,” L said. “I’m sorry. Really.”

Light said nothing. L dried off his hands, then walked over. He hoisted himself up onto the counter. He did not look at Light. Light always seemed to find that easier.

“I’m sorry,” he said, again. “I didn’t think of it — that’s all. I wouldn’t have scheduled anything if I had.”

Light kicked xir feet. L went on.

“I want to spend the day with you,” he said. “I promise. I’ll sort it out. I’m probably stuck for Christmas day, but I can work out the night before, and I’ll be there in the morning.”

Light looked away, which was actually a good thing — when Light was really mad, xie ignored L entirely.

“Forgive me?” L said. “Please?”

Light bit xir lip, then, finally, turned to him. “Yeah,” he said. “Okay. Fine.”

Then xie leaned over and dropped xir head onto L’s shoulder. Something in L unknotted. He wrapped an arm around Light’s waist, then decided to test his luck by kissing xir temple.

Light let him, so he supposed things must have been alright.

---

Just about everything in their city closed down for the holidays — the joys and tribulations of little cities — so L elected to bring Light down to Toronto.

It seemed clear that Light hadn’t entirely forgiven him after all. Xie wouldn’t look at him the entire ride down on the GO train, which wasn’t necessarily unusual for Light, but did feel somewhat concerning.

He’d kept his morning appointment, but cancelled the evening one entirely. This was not an action without consequence. He charged a fair bit, and he liked to provide a consistent service. This was a good client. L did not want to lose him. It wasn’t only about the money he’d make today, although that was a bit of a blow. Without a pool of good clients, he would be forced to take chances on people who weren’t; he did not wish to return to living that way.

Still. Light was right. He should have asked, first.

He led Light down to the aquarium, then brought him down through the deep dark rooms of fish and into the glass tunnel. It was dark, lit and ethereal blue, and there were sharks and turtles and all manner of aquatic life swimming around them. It was quite magical, really. Romantic. On Christmas Eve, it was nearly empty — there was only one other couple, who were just around the curve of the tunnel, their bodies distorted silhouettes through the water. L thought he’d done quite a good job, here.

“This has nothing to do with Christmas,” Light said.

L turned to look at xim, trying very hard not to let his exasperation show.

Light had left their apartment dressed very nicely, in grey chinos and the nice black turtleneck which made xir neck look very long. Right now, all that was covered up with the giant black Canada Goose jacket which L had bought for xim and which xie had refused to check. The aquarium was far too hot for that, and xir face was a little pink from the heart. It would have been cute if xie wasn’t — frankly — acting like such a brat.

L was trying to be nice. He really was.

He reminded himself, once again, that this was his fault. He had screwed up. He couldn’t be mad at Light for being upset.

“You love fish,” L said. “Fish are wonderful.”

Light looked away, then hunched up xir shoulders.

“Okay,” said L. “Look. Let’s — do you want to go touch a stingray?” They had tanks out front.

Light’s lips pressed together. “Fine,” xie said.

L reached for xir hand. Xie snatched it away.

So, L decided, his hopes of being forgiven were a little premature after all. He pressed two fingers to either side of his nose bridge, then followed Light as xie stomped off to play with the stingrays.

---

Their next stop was the Christmas market. This time, L wasn’t naïve enough to expect things to have resolved, but surely xie could not be upset at the lack of Christmas.

The Christmas market was in the Distillery district, which had once been — as the name implied — a distillery.

It looked like something out of a Dickens novel — all red brick and with iron fixtures painted a deep green, the roads paved in brick, now strung with Edison bulbs which glowed warm in the dark. The winding streets were now lined with vendors in little tents selling street food and little Christmas tchotchkes.

It was romantic. It was Christmassy. Light was walking alongside L, arms crossed tightly over xir chest, lips pressed into a harsh line.

L was going to lose his mind.

“Isn’t this nice?” he said, as pleasantly as he could manage. “I always think the Distillery is so beautiful this time of year.”

“It’s cold,” Light said. It was three below. “There are too many people.”

“Let’s get you something to eat,” L said.

He headed down the alleyways, towards a tiny building with a chalkboard sign outside advertising drinking chocolate. That seems suitably romantic and Christmasy, and also suitably filled with sugar, which he dearly hoped might do something to benefit Light’s mood.

The interior of the building was warm and smelled intensely of cocoa and pine. It was stuffed with boughs of evergreen and holly and little vintage decorations — wooden ornaments painted in wam colours, hand-pounded tin lanterns, dipped candles hanging upside-down.

There was hardly enough room to turn around in, and Light stood so close to L that he was nearly knocked over, so at least xie wasn’t too repulsed to be in his vicinity.

L bought them both a cup of drinking chocolate. He handed one to Light, who sipped at it and then, looking startled, spat it back into the cup, right in front of the woman who sold it to them. She looked profoundly offended.

“Don’t —” L started. “What was wrong with that?”

“It’s not hot chocolate,” Light said.

“No. It’s drinking chocolate.”

Light looked away. “But you drink hot chocolate.”

“I know, but it’s something different. I’m sorry. I should have explained.” L took a sip from his. It was heavy and bitter and not at all bad, but he supposed it could be alarming if one were not prepared. “Do you — ah — I suppose you don’t like it very much.”

“It’s disgusting,” Light said. “I hate it.” Xie handed xir spit coffee to L, then turned and stalked out of the building.

L was at a loss.

---

A wiser man might have called the night off altogether, but L lived in hope. There was one more stop on his increasingly disastrous plan — Kingyo, a Japanese restaurant in Cabbagetown.

He was starting to get a little frustrated, frankly. He had made an error, it was true, but it had been a mistake and not an act of malice. Surely there had to be an end to his penance.

Light got like this, sometimes. Xie had a very easy life. L would be lying if he said he’d never thought about this with resentment. So very little had gone wrong for xim. Xie didn’t know how to handle it when things went sideways; xie expected everything to be laid with roses.

“Look,” L said, as Light sunk low into xir seat. “Should we just go home?”

“No,” Light said. It’s fine. I don’t care.”

L shut his eyes, then breathed out and picked up his menu. He fervently hoped this would be the best meal they’d ever had un their lives. Perhaps it was possible to feed Light something so delicious that xie would never be unhappy again.

They had a table in the back of the restaurant; it was surprisingly private. Kingyo was a gigantic restaurant, dimly lit, outfitted with lacquered wood and raw brick walls. A projector silently played Japanese children’s shows along one concrete wall — right now, it was showing Anpanman. It had a slouching, semi-ironic casual air to it, as if it had simply thrown together its rough wood floors and the noren curtains between entranceways. Cool? it seemed to say. I hadn’t noticed.

Light picked up xir menu, too. “These aren’t Izakaya foods,” xie said.

“I know,” L told him, as patiently as he could manage. “Izakayas in Canada are like this.”

“It’s wrong,” Light said, correctly but infuriatingly.” They really should have gone home, L decided. This was a disaster. “You’re paying for this, right.”

“It’s a date,” L said. “We’re on a Christmas Eve date. That is what you —” He inhaled, then exhaled, scanned his menu. “Oh, they’ve got fried chicken for Christmas. Isn’t that nice?”

“That’s tomorrow,” Light said. “You eat it tomorrow. Everyone keeps telling me about KFC. I don’t want anyone to tell me about KFC anymore.”

“Okay,” said L. He reminded himself that he loved Light very, very much.

---

They got grilled mackerel and a negitoro combination — or, more precisely, L ordered both these things and Light sat back in xir seat, drinking the hot sake L had also ordered.

“Look,” L said, finally, two tuna rolls in. “Please eat something. You’ll feel better if you eat.”

“I’m fine,” Light said. “I’m happy. It’s an Izakaya. You’re supposed to drink. You aren’t supposed to eat maki.” Then, abruptly, “I can’t believe you forgot.”

L put his chopsticks down. This was what he’s been waiting for all day.

“Look,” he said. “I’m sorry. I really am. But it was one mistake —”

“—and you still went to work this morning.”

“Light. I have to work.”

“No, you don’t.”

L pinched the bridge of his nose. “Our landlord would disagree. He generally takes rent in money.”

“But you didn’t have to work this morning. You pick your clients. You cancelled tonight.”

L felt anger flash hot and bright.

He didn’t feel anger very often. He didn’t feel anything most of the time, in fact — the world usually seemed quite abstracted to him, something moving tremulously in the distance. It made things easier. But he did feel this.

“Light,” he said. “I did that. I did cancel tonight. I did that for you. And that sort of thing — it makes me look unreliable. He’s a good client. I can’t risk two good clients.”

“And you’re still seeing someone tomorrow —”

“I need to, Light. I can’t lose Watari.” Then, his anger growing sharper, making him stupid. “You don’t understand. You aren’t even trying to understand. I can’t throw away everyone I know for certain is safe. You need to think about what you’re asking me to do.”

Light’s face went a little slack. As a rule, he didn’t like to talk about the aspects of his job that were dangerous; he didn’t like to force Light to think about them. But then it hardened again and L knew xie was shuttering that information away. Xie was very good at making anything xie didn’t like to think about disappear.

Xie picked up one of the negitoro and popped it into xir mouth. This was good, at least, because L highly doubted the situation would be improved by Light drinking nothing but sake on an empty stomach.

Xir face contorted. Xie swallowed, then looked up at L.

“That was shit. This is disgusting.”

L could feel himself flushing; pins and needles swept up and down his body. The world suddenly felt at once very close and utterly out of his grasp; he leaned forwards and hissed, “You are acting like a spoiled child —”

Light burst into tears.

For a moment, he felt frozen, unable to think of a single thing to say. Light covered xir face with his hands, as if this would somehow prevent anyone from seeing.

The anger drained out of him, replaced with a rush of guilt.

“Hey,” L said, He leaned forwards. “I’m sorry. Light. I really am.”

Light mumbled something through xir tears. It was too muddy to hear.

L hesitated. “I’m so sorry,” he said. “I couldn’t catch that.”

“You take me for — for —,” Light started, stuttering over the words, then swallowed and took xir hands away. Xie wiped at xir eyes with the back of xir hands, swallowed, then switched to Japanese. “You take me for granted. You just assume I’m going to be okay with everything.”

It took L a second to translate, and another to find his own words in Japanese. He was very fluent, but it was still a second language, and one he didn’t have much practise in.

“Oh. Light. No. That isn’t true.”

“It is,” Light said, more insistent. Xir was speaking louder and steadier, now. “It is. You think I understand everything you do so it’s all fine. And I do understand. But it’s not fine.” Xie tugged xir sleeve ofter xir hand and wiped at xir eyes. “Everything is different here.” Xie jerked xir head towards the maki. “It doesn’t taste like it does at home. I can’t go back for New Years. I have to talk in English all the time and I’m tired and everyone acts like I’m stupid when I don’t know every word. I wanted just — Christmas is a big holiday. I know it’s not mine but I wanted to try anyway.”

L was getting a little lightheaded. He had been aware of these things, sort of, but they hadn’t coalesced.

“I didn’t realize,” he said, softly.

“I know you didn’t. You were supposed to realize. I’m not supposed to have to tell you every single thing. You should know some things.”

“I know,” L said. “I’m sorry.”

Light wiped at xir eyes again. “I’m hungry. I didn’t eat all day.”

“I know. Maybe you could give that a shot now.”

Light picked up another negitoro and ate it. “It really isn’t very good.”

“I know. I’m sorry. It should have realized it wouldn’t stack up and brought you elsewhere.” It was good, actually, but he felt it was the right thing to say in the present circumstances. Light was right — it probably wasn’t compared to what xie was used to.

Apparently he was right because Light nodded, looking pacified, and took another.

“I didn’t realize you were having such a hard time,” L said. “I should have.”

Light shrugged. It seemed as much an acceptance as a condemnation. Sometimes the two were the same. To be told he’d done wrong was its own sort of love, sometimes.

“Maybe we ought to go home after this,” L said. “Perhaps it’s been enough.”

“I guess. Yeah.” Then xie bit the inside of xir cheek. “But they have ginger ice cream.”

L couldn’t help himself; he smiled. “Okay. Yes. We should get ginger ice cream, and then we should head home.”

Light nodded, wiped at xir eyes again, and ate another roll.

---

On the way back home, surrounded by the rattling of the GO train, the brightness of the train turning the view outside into an incoherent blackness, Light sunk into L’s arms and shut xir eyes.

Xie looked exhausted. L supposed xie must be.

Sometimes the way Light behaved was infuriating, but L knew it wasn’t easy for xim either; it wasn’t something xie was doing on purpose. Things overtook xim — strangling emotions and words and actions. L could understand that. It came part and parcel. L stroked xir hair and Light made a soft noise, then pressed closer.

Xir eyes were fluttering. L wrapped an arm around xim to keep him close and safe — his love, his beautiful girl, half asleep in the warmth of his arms.

[notroosterbradshaw]

the Relationship Experience - seven

part of: The Boyfriend Experience universe

six.

It was so early – well, not early by his standards, but Rooster knew it would be way too early to expect you to be awake. He squinted over his shoulder as the sun was starting to rise on the horizon, a scorcher on the cards if the burn of its climb held any credence.

He wasn’t due back for another few days, but please the right people, know the right ass to kiss to potentially get him on a plane to bring him home sooner? He'd try it if it could get him back to you quicker. It probably wouldn’t happen again, so he’d take the reprieve this time.

Hitching the flowers in the crease of his elbow from that florist you loved to drag him to when he wasn’t due on base with the sparrows, he knew walking in on the morning of Valentine’s Day was going to be tough. But he also knew most people didn’t say no to a man in uniform just wanting to buy a beautiful bunch of roses for the girl - no, woman. The woman he hadn’t seen in three months and to surprise her that morning.

Three hellishly long months.

He’d missed Christmas and New Year and he’d expected to miss today, too. But sometimes good things happen to reasonably good people, he figured. Or painfully brownnose to your superiors until you get your way. Look, he wasn’t proud of it, but hey.

He was home.

He quietly unlocked the front door and let himself in, dropping his duffle by his feet, and wandering into the familiar surroundings of your apartment. The linger of your perfume, the photo wall. He went over and said hi to his mom, tenderly tracing the frame before moving to the kitchenette for a hard-earned glass of water. He sculled it before going for seconds and tossing his gaze over his shoulder for your bedroom, quietly placing the glass in the sink. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and unbuttoned the collar of his shirt and subsequent buttons of his NWU, energised.

Placing his hat on the bench with his phone silenced, keys and sunglasses within it, the pull to your bedroom was purely magnetic.  

Pushing into the bedroom soundlessly, Rooster’s gaze softened, seeing your sleepy form on your side of the California King, his pillow snuggling tight against your cheek and your sinful body draped in a lone white sheet. The sexiest of sights and it took everything in his power not to rush you. Choosing to take his time, he sat at the desk seat of your bay window and unlaced his boots, placing his socks in them and tidily putting them out of the way, before removing his shirt altogether, laying it carefully over the back of the chair. He loosened his slacks, but resistance was futile. He was half-hard and wholeheartedly unabashed about it.

He had to wake you.

Moving across the room, he sat on your side of the bed and smiled to himself, allowing his fingertips to graze your supple, warm skin and he was awestruck. “My sweet girl, I’m home,” he dared whisper, his tender rasp rougher in his exhaustion.

But if he knew and boy, did he know how well you slept… it was going to take more than some sweet coos to wake you. He lowered himself to sweep the lowly sheet away from you, letting it slink down your back and the curve of your hip, prompting him to leave a wet kiss against it. He grasped a handful of your ass, massaging it in his palm and smiled when he heard you whimper and roll closer to his side, looking for his warmth even in his apparent absence.

He chuckled quietly to himself, pleased you still searched for him. 

He tried whispering your name, his mantra and reached for your hand, his lips grazing your knuckles and your fingers flexing before he placed it back on the bed and changed tack.

Hearing your gentle whimper and contorting your body into a light wriggle, Rooster bit back a smile as his tongue traced from the base of your spine towards the back of your ribs. He’d forgotten how smooth your skin was as he nuzzled some pressure into his kiss, a trail of saliva leeching between your shoulder blades.

Your murmur made him weak, but it was surely this if there was ever a right way to come home. Waking you up under his touch, his eager kiss. He was being so patient, in a way that only the last decade could teach him. But fuck, regiment be damned, all he wanted to do was wake you with his lips dipping urgently into your core, tasting you on his tongue and watching his lover, you, lose all control.

Already half undressed to his loosened slacks to ease pressure on his raging cock, he contemplated doing just that, tossing you onto your back and trapping you with your glorious thighs constricted around his ears while he devoured you, pinning you down with his strength as you pleaded for him, pleaded for his hard cock, pleaded to cum.

Three months of utter frustration pulsated in his ears, all the blood in his body located below the belt so much so that he felt like two different people:

The first who wished to wake you affectionately, kiss, caress, and fall into a slow morning of making love, showing you how much he’d missed you and how in love he was as the sun rose before falling asleep together and starting again but the second was powerful and almost feral. The second wanted to do all the things he thought about frenziedly when he found a moment of privacy, dreaming of slamming into your fervent pussy while you called for more and riding him to the rough rhythm he commanded; the head he craved so sloppy that he knew he would blow hard and fast, taking the brunt of his frustration on your body part of his choosing.

You were intoxicating, the remains of yesterday’s perfume on your skin. The tender curve of your ass that his large palm swept across elicited another subtle squirm from you. He bit back a smile; you would be writhing under him soon.

He prided himself on introducing you to the benefits of sleeping nude, something you didn’t do before him. While Rooster generally slept naked when he was at home, it was obviously not something he’d toil with while away, for obvious reasons, but he was a creature of habit and when the sleepovers started, it didn’t take long to convince you, his sweet girl, that sleep just came easier when you shared skin. Point, Bradshaw.

He would never tire of rolling over, his muscular arms searching for you, dragging you back to him and feeling your perfect ass roll with purpose against his cock, showing him you needed him during the early hours before his alarm. He’d grip your hips as he gently ground himself into you, growing harder in next to no time, and fucking you so deep while loving on you slow. Your breathy moans coaxing gentle rumbles from his chest, his voice telling you how good you were together and his mind telling him this was the real thing, and he couldn’t imagine being with someone else like this anymore.

You were his living, breathing fantasy.

“Sweet girl, wake up for me…” he whispered with a low chuckle, pushing up the bed and laying beside you to rest his head on the pillow. He brushed your messy hair from your face. Your beautiful face. He kissed the apple of your cheek, calling your name again a little louder now, his voice raw with exhaustion and desire. “I’m home.”

Watching your body twist into the mattress, he licked his lips anticipating your reaction. You’d both survived the first deployment since your lives had changed, and he needed to touch and feel you.

You rose unhurriedly, every movement fluid as you mumbled a confused “Bradley?” and dragged your head off his pillow. Blinking a few times, he tried not to laugh as you rubbed the sleep from your pretty albeit disbelieving eyes.

“Hi, baby. I’m home,” he said again, tenderly tactile as his fingertips padded your bicep to your wrist and you smiled, groggily. “I’m so happy to see you,” he said as it seemed to dawn on you that he was right before you.

“Oh, Bradley,” you scampered urgently into his arms, skin to skin just as God had intended. He missed your warmth against his and pressed a series of kisses into your jaw and clavicle as he held you close, reassuring you he was home, he was safe. “I thought I was dreaming,” you looked at him wide awake now, incredulous and still searching for signs of injury or harm, your tears reflecting in your eyes.

You didn’t know what to say, about a million questions bubbling on your lips, but you could only scramble towards his mouth and kiss him as if your life depended on it. Kiss him for getting home safely, kiss him for the days you didn’t get to kiss him at all, kiss him because you needed to remember how he tasted. And kiss him because you missed how fucking thoroughly he could kiss you. Rolling his body above yours, you laced your calves around him, hoping that if you didn’t let him go, he couldn’t disappear again.

“I’m home, sweet girl. Fuck, I missed you so goddamn much,” he found your wrists and cupped them tightly above your head, as you chased his kiss without the slightest hint of shame, and he devotedly delivered, helping relax your body back down on the mattress, his body weighing you down and fuck, how you’d missed being trapped under his remarkable, powerful body.

Without hesitation, you opened your thighs to him and although he was still dressed, he wholly let his weight release on you. He adjusted slightly to get where he needed, his hips rolled against you, the friction of his uniform eliciting a gasp from you his mind hadn’t been able to replicate when he thought about you on those cold lonely nights in the middle of the ocean.

“Fuck, I missed that sound,” he confessed, his lips leaving yours and cascading low. His breath was hot against your skin and he nuzzled your neck, burying his face into your warmth. You’d missed the tickle of his moustache as he ghosted kisses across your pulse.

“Jesus Christ,” you tenderly let your fingers lace into his soft curls and scratch at the nape of his neck. He needed a trim, and he had a rarely seen five o’clock shadow but you were lying to say you would love to see your man bearded up and a bit of length to his curls. “Why didn’t you tell me you were getting in early, Bradley?”

“Where would the surprise be in that?” he asked lovingly, drizzling kisses between your breasts before resting his cheek on his favourite place to lay.

He made a good point. This wouldn’t be happening if you met him as expected. Friends, families, sailors, chaos. Not slow and delicate like this. He nudged you with his pelvis, particularly fond of that grunt you responded with. “Tell me,” he laughed quietly. “What were you dreaming about? Whatever it was had you in a bit of a state,” his big hands drifted across your forearms, biceps, and the smoothness of your breast and you leaned into it, urging him for more.  

“That you were kissing me, my back, my shoulders,” you managed, bashfully covering your face with your palms. “Was getting good too…” you admitted, a small groan escaping your mouth as he swirled his tongue around a pleading nipple.

“Oh, it was one of those kinds of dreams. My dirty, dirty girl. So sexy,” he grunted but thrilled your dreams were being fulfilled by him too. “But you weren’t dreaming,” he confided in his sexy rasp. “I wanted to give you a pleasant wake-up. It’s the least I can do with the plans I have for you today.”

“You need time to rest,” you told him, remembering how your father and grandfather would be lost to sleep the first few days upon their return from deployment but also you needed him to be turning you inside out sooner rather than later. Your knuckles caressed his rosy cheeks, turning your fingers to follow his faint scars but he was never self-conscious with you, not the way you treasured them. You’d missed the feel of the wiry-raised skin under your touch and reached up to kiss each and every one.

“Oh, baby, that is so good,” he murmured, sinking further into you. You kissed the biggest scar on his shoulder, and your hands drifted down his strong side, the thick muscles contracting as you touched him.

“You sure you’re not too sleepy, big boy?” your voice was like liquid gold to his ears as your silken tongue followed your favourite scar across his throat, his Adam’s Apple bobbing under the strain.

“I’ll sleep when I’m dead. Hold that thought, love,” he promised you. He pulled away and you immediately missed the feel of his skin against yours, knowing your eyes were watching his every move. He moved to stand, and loosened his zip down, knowing full well that a little show to remove his slacks could turn you a little wild. Just how he loved you with that look from doe-eyed that you were home, to dark and carnal for him. He carefully shimmied the waist down, already so hard and wanting and he let his last remaining item of clothing fall, dropping his boxer briefs with his slacks. “Miss me just a little?” he asked, licking his lips as he carefully stroked himself, languid and delicate. It felt so good to know how close he was to claiming you. He heard your sweet little gasp, giving you another few moments to watch him.

You were overwhelmed by your own body heat, every nerve ending on fire. “Just a little. Your body is perfect,” you breathed, licking the side of your lip like a woman parched. You loved watching him touch himself and, on those rare occasions, when you’d shared a little mutual masturbation, you could cry out louder than if he were inside you merely from the sight alone, but that wouldn’t cut it now. You loved watching Bradley Bradshaw touch himself. He groaned a little, watching the pad of your finger circling your belly button.

You needed him. You needed to feel him drive all his strength into you, have him find the places only he knew and fuck you so good, you’d weep.

“God, you look good. Do they just lock you in the gym when you’re on the carrier to come home looking more amazing than you did the last time I saw you?” you asked before you could stop yourself. “Is this what I get from the Navy as a welcome home gift after all the years of pain and disappointment?”

He hummed but couldn’t resist a giggle at your anti-Navy sentiment. “Gym relieves the tension on multiple fronts,” he admitted, a small sneer on his full lips, as he collected the pre-cum on the tip of his cock and his finger moved to your mouth, gratefully accepting it between your lips and he breathed, scared he was far too hot, too turned on, too close to ruining all this. You missed his taste, so distinctly him.

Crawling to cover you on the bed, his knees worked with his palms, holding your knees to thrust your thighs wide, cunt glistening and on display for him. “Gotta bury my cock in you. Feel how warm and soft you are again,” he professed wildly.

“What are you waiting for?”

“Gonna get you a little riled up for me first,” he chewed his lower lip, his deep tone decisive. “Eat you out as you deserve. Fuck you so deep your eyes roll back, and you’re just fuckin’ drunk on me,” he lowered his body to yours, his slippery tongue gleefully swirling around your straining nipple and he stared up at you as if you were his last meal. His gleaming sharp teeth sank into the soft flesh of your breast, your body contorting in bliss and utter defeat beneath him.

His words made you shamefully needy.

Your noises of pleasure and encouragement were just exquisite.

You pushed your chest closer to his mouth, forcing him to pay deliberate attention to your breasts, your fingers lacing behind his thick neck, your nails raking into his scorching skin to keep him there. He’d learned early on that you adored having your tits played with. He was an ass man by nature but he was easily swayed when held you from behind and cupped your breasts as he covered you, his thumb and index finger toying with your nipples until you begged for his cock, got yourself off on his fingers… or watched as you got off on your own while he fucked into you ruthlessly. “God, I’ve missed you,” you told him, voice dripping with want.

He palmed your other breast as he looked up and smiled lazily at you. “Nowhere near as close as I’ve missed you,” he nuzzled the soft skin, pressing in open-mouth kisses, his skilled tongue swirling your nipple, his honeyed eyes dark with their longing. He breathed into your skin as you almost begged. He loved nothing more than having you melting for him.

“Oh, God,” you mewled.

“Lemme take care of you for a bit, love, but tell me… did you touch yourself when I was away?” he pleaded to know the answer.

“I thought about you so much,” you admitted. “Obsessed with you,” your back curving your breast into his greedy mouth. “Couldn’t get you out of my brain.”

He hummed, pleased. What man didn’t want to hear those words? “But did you touch yourself?” Rooster kissed between your breasts, his tongue tracing to your belly button, he stared up at you with a curious gaze, eyes dancing in a way that you knew he was taunting you, awaiting your answer.

“Every night. Most mornings,” you confided. “It is hard to let you go, Bradshaw.”

He laughed into your skin. “Good girl. I hope you came hard. But I also hope it doesn't compare to the real thing.”

“Never,” you admitted. “Nothing compares to how you get me off on your perfect cock,” you traced the shell of his ear and he shuddered.

“Fuck. Tell me more…”

You took his hand tenderly. “How good these beautiful hands are, when they’re inside of me,” you patiently sucked on his index finger again, and he realised maybe… just maybe you were the one doing the taunting in the early hours of the morning. “How your slick tongue loops around my nipple and those perfect teeth bruise the flesh,” you moaned as he took note of your subtle hint, blowing his breath against the sensitive bud and watching it pucker for him as he kissed and boldly circled it with his thick tongue at your whim before giving the other the same devotion, if not more. “Jesus Christ. I could cum like this,” you accused lightly, knotting your fingers in his curls to keep him doing what he was doing with his mouth.

“Don’t you want my cock?”

“So bad,” you told him. “I’m so turned on.”

He hummed, his long finger sweeping through your slick folds and you told no lies.  “Jesus Christ. But you don’t get to cum yet,” he moved his lips away from your nipple and you flopped back into the pillow, a little deflated.

He huffed a laugh, his tongue tracing your ribs. “I know you’re not working this morning. So, I’m gonna fuck you for hours. And then hours after that.”

The sound that escaped you was almost inhuman. “But shouldn’t I be taking care of you?” you asked incredulously as he moved to his belly on the bed, roughly spreading your legs wide for him and nuzzling at your clit, reacquainting himself with you.

“Sweet girl, this isn’t about me… yet,” he muttered, his long fingers stroking the soft skin of your labia. “I love goin’ down on you so fuckin’ much,” he said more to himself. He was showing the restraint of a saint, but for all his faults, he knew this guaranteed him going straight to heaven.

Rooster’s sex drive was notorious, and his cock was above average, how the fuck else did he get his call sign? Well, it wasn’t that straightforward but the mix of wanton needs and fucking hating early mornings despite the requirement, it was interchangeable. He let people make their own assumptions, but only a few knew. Like you. “Lay back and do as you're told.”

“You’ve been at sea for months,” you tried, breath hitching as his lips nipped against the soft skin on your inner thighs. “Roost – Bradley,” your tone is a mixture of warning and lascivious need.

His eyes changed as he stared up at you, a mix of want and desire laced within the gold and honey of his colour. “You’ll make it up to me, but you just looked so pretty, love, sprawled out under the sheets, naked, soft. Those sounds you were making while I kissed you made me so fuckin’ hard,” he confided, his kiss wet as he directed his attention to your clit. “Nothing compares to being here with you.”

Your hips vaulted off the mattress almost immediately, and he used his strong hands to keep you pinned down to take everything he was offering you. His tongue traced the slick already formed, at home with a taste he knew so well.

“Bradley,” you almost chastised as your head lolled back and your nails raked into his brawny shoulders. “I want to feel you in me, I want you to feel me cum.”

“Plenty of time for that,” he shushed you, his tongue swirling at your clit, lapping up the juices that were making the most obscene sounds with his tongue. He had never been so turned on and declining to fuck you immediately was one of the hardest things he’d ever said no to, and he never ever said no to you. He smiled wickedly, feeling that familiar tremble in your thighs as he knew you were closing in on what he hoped was a really fuckin’ good orgasm, gagging to explode. Your moans, the way you squirmed beneath him, thrusting towards his mouth desperate to take all he had to offer.

“Bradley…” you drawled, the bliss in your tone turning him to jelly.

“Love,” he acknowledged, sliding his fingers in and adding to the ruthless assault.

“I missed this,” your breathing hitched as his talented fingers crooked inside you, finding that magical spot and you cursed, the pressure building in your stomach, tensing, flexing, forcing him to use his strength to keep you on your back.

“You ready to cum for me?” he asked in that rasp, thicker and dire with longing. “God, you’re a sight,” he murmured, his tongue darting out and circling your clit, dark eyes not leaving your form. He groaned, your fingers tugging at his now mussed curls. No longer a gentleman, just a man waiting for his woman to fall apart for him.

“Bradley,” you managed.

“Come on,” he growled. “Let your fuckin’ neighbours know your man is home.”

You managed a grin as he released your thighs and let your pussy grind into his eager mouth. Holy shit, he was incredible. A God of a man… and all yours. All fucking yours. It was enough to make you crack, the pressure on your senses overtaking you as you threatened to cum messily.

Your voice didn’t call to him as feral as you felt, but you breathed his name out as you gripped his strong, muscular shoulders and let go, your orgasm ripping through your body like an earthquake. Your body was on high alert as he greedily lapped up all you gave him.

“Thatta girl, just like that. Fuck, you look so good,” he murmured, banking the memory of you coming undone and all under his power. The way your body moved and quaked, Jesus Christ, he would bottle it if he could. “That’s my sweet girl,” he mumbled, awed, as you fell back against the pillows, blissed out… just how he liked it. He pressed against your tummy, his lips leaving your dripping core and travelling back up your torso, sweeping a path of your slick and his saliva against your blistering skin. He revelled in the explosions and goose pimples splaying across your skin as his lips moved over it. “Yes, love, I know,” he said as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, needing him close, and he gazed at you with soft eyes as his tongue skimmed your throat. Wet kisses continued as he devoured between your breasts, the sensations on your skin too much as you writhed with sensitivity. “You did so good, love.”

Love. There it was again. He hadn’t really called you that before; you’d heard it thrice, maybe more, in quick succession. To say you were fond of it was an understatement. You were so used to being his Sweet Girl… but you craved to be his Love. The rumble of it off his tongue was unimaginable.

“Tell me what you need,” you begged him. “I’ll do anything,” you gingerly pulled yourself off the bed and rolled him over, really seeing him for the first time since he got home. Sweet, kind, funny Bradley Bradshaw. You raffled off those positions he adored most, which brought you as much pleasure as him. “Be selfish, Bradley. Tell me what you want,” you pleaded with him.

He breathed deeply. “Be selfish…” he repeated. He was never asked to be selfish, your divine voice clouding his judgement as he pulled you to his waist, exhaustion be damned.

“Want me to ride you, big boy?” you offered, moving to straddle his powerful quads, taking his leaking cock in your earnest palms, your thumb circling around the tip. He hissed, eyes fluttering closed as you lightly worked him. He let you disarm him for a minute or two, your skilled hands knowing exactly how he needed to be touched. The right pressure, the right speed. His murmurs quiet and abs clenched as he tried to hold it together. He didn’t want to cum like this. He shook his head slowly and sat up, you were face to face. “Blow you?”

He said a quiet no as you continued to palm his thick, long cock melodiously. “Fuck,” he breathed through his nose. “That feels good. Three months… too damn long.”

“I know, baby,” you agreed. “Doggy?” you offered, and he shook his head, trying not to laugh. “Plain, old missionary?” you goaded when you didn’t get a response. You felt his cock twitch and knew he would cum if you kept up your ministrations.

He bit back a smile. “Baby… just sit where you are and be with me,” he ordered quietly, releasing your hands and guiding himself into you, fully sheathed as you both preened to the new feeling. It had been too long for you both. He sat up and lengthened his long, strong legs before him. You were face to face and you crept to your knees.

It was an unbreakable moment and you’d never felt more adored as he tenderly grasped your chin and brought you closer to kiss your forehead. “Just still, you and me.”

You held his face softly in your hands and searched his handsome features. “Just still,” you repeated, a gasp escaping your lips as you resisted moving and keeping your promise to him. “Tell me… you’re okay, baby?”

While the impression of a grin didn’t spread wide across his handsome features, the affection in his eyes didn’t lie. “I’m fan-fucking-tastic, sweet girl. Safe and sound,” he replied with a quiet quiver in his voice as he strained to remain within you, cool and calm.

And it had been so long that he’d felt like someone genuinely missed him. Your adoration for him was palpable and almost overwhelmed him. “I’m so happy you’re home. While you were gone, everything was just so…” your voice trailed off.

“Just so, huh?” his lip quivered as he licked back a smirk.

“Just so,” you established, unable to consider the words. You combed your fingers through his unkempt curls and laced your hands behind his neck, massaging his solid traps. He smiled, his face nearing yours.

“I don’t apologise,” he laughed wholly against your lips before kissing you. “I’ll never apologise for that.”

“I’d never want you to,” you replied as he adjusted his posture and found a spot deep inside that spoke deeply to you. “Fuck, this feels so good. You feel bigger than I remember.”

“Compliments like that will get you far, kid. Just go with it. I know it’s a lot,” he talked you through it. “Gonna make everything better, I promise.”

“You’re holding out on me,” you gave a watery sigh.

“Stamina,” he shrugged, arrogantly. Rooster rarely reminded you about the threshold of his physical limits. You knew, but Jesus, there was no keeping a good man down. “Behave, and you might get what you deserve.”

“I dread to think,” your eyes closing of their own volition. “Fuck, I don’t think I can do this.”

“You can do this,” he whispered, brushing away a single tear from your sweltering cheek.

“No, I need to move or something, Bradley. Anything,” you whined.

Rooster chuckled, a deep grumble rising from his belly, and you could feel it exponentially. His laughter into your skin as you relaxed your weight on him, exactly what he wanted as you rested for forehead on his brawny shoulder, but it didn’t soothe any desire for you. “That’s my girl,” he said, swallowing hard. “You feel so fuckin’ good.”

“I’m trying so hard not to cum and you’re not even moving,” you blinked through tears that threatened as he felt your pussy flutter around him. He sighed, his heart racing. “Everything is in hyper colour.”

“I know, baby,” he grasped your chin and moved to kiss you again. “You’re doing beautifully.”

“Please fuck me, Bradley. I need you,” you begged. “I can’t do this.”

“Just a little while longer, baby. I’m not hurting you?”

“No,” you kissed him, you wanted to devour him. “Definitely not hurting me, just feels too damn good.”

Without responding, his body kicked into gear, his pelvis pressing up and his cock burying itself deeply as you cried out, leaning back and resting a palm on the bed to move to an angle that made him just that more godly. “That’s good,” he instructed, raising your hips to rest against his powerful thighs as his hips rolled sinfully slow. “I want you to touch yourself.”

And who were you to argue? You knew his eyes were glued to your body as he continued thrusting into you methodically, you needed the respite. But if he wanted to be teased, that’s what you’d give him, your free palm gripping your at your breasts, pressing and pulling against your nipples as you met his thrusts. You could cum as you were and sucked in a sharp breath, hoping to hold out a little longer for him. His eyes were keenly on where your bodies met and he groaned as your fingers followed down your belly, opening yourself to him and swirling at your clit.

“You’re fuckin’ perfect, you know that?” he asked, his hips speeding and pushing up into you. “Get yourself there, love. I wanna see you cum again. You’re so wet, can’t last,” he chewed his lip, watching your hand play with your pretty pussy. “So close, you’re so tight. Little more, love,” he cursed as you started to crumble, your cunt pulsating around him like a vice grip, the tremours bringing out the raw side of him and he fucked you madly, harder, rougher, wanting to take as much of you for himself.

“Bradley,” you panted, his name falling from your lips like a song as he licked his fingers and reached to furiously rub your clit with your own, sending you over the edge, your body shuddering uncontrollably and coating his cock with your slick juices. He cursed and his hips stuttered, pounding into you roughly as came viciously, milking his cock with all you had. He didn’t think he’s cum so hard, your body dragging out his orgasm until you were both spent. 

“Oh, fuck,” he breathed a litany of curses as he pulled you to sit up and collapse against him, exhausted. He smoothed your hair back and tried to collect himself although the way you were licking and caressing his clavicle and that vein that ran down his neck, he almost forgot his goddamn name, his body sensitive in the afterglow. “I love you; I love you so fuckin’ much it makes me crazy,” he admitted as you clasped his face demanding, your tongue sweeping against his lips to kiss him roughly.

“I love you so much, Bradley. I could cum for you all day,” you swore as he giggled quietly against your lips.

“I’m holding you to that today, sweet girl,” he eased you back and his tongue darted out to swirl around your nipple. Jolts of pleasure shot through your body as you crudely raked his messy hair.

“Stop teasing,” you pleaded with him as he started to regulate his breathing.

“Can’t. It’ll be merciless all day, and tomorrow and every day after that. Want your body in every position we can conjure up.”

“Have I got you for a few days before you’re back on base?” you asked nervously, wrapping your arms around his shoulders like he could slip away at any moment. You needed him close and weren’t going to let him go easily.

“Few days,” he said softly, kissing your lips tenderly. “Happy Valentine’s Day, sweet girl.”

“Oh,” you said, staggered. Like it had even occurred to you what day it was when he wasn’t around. Christmas and New Year passed in a haze; you flat-out refused a single thought of Valentine's Day without him… and here he was before you. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Bradley Bradshaw. This is all I could ever want or need,” you said affectionately. He was exquisite as his cheeks flushed.

“Hold that thought,” he said, reaching for his boxers and going to catch the mess of your lovemaking. He tidied you up like always, without hesitation.

“Such a gentleman,” you baited as he winked.

“Least I can do. Be right back,” he figured before he popped up and left the room. You sighed and moved up the bed, snuggling into the pillows, pulling the lone sheet back up your body and trying to avoid the morning chill in the room. He reappeared a moment later, water in hand, a bouquet of multicoloured roses in the other and you could feel your grin spread across your face. “Where - how did you get them?” you asked suspiciously as he offered you the glass first and you took an enthusiastic gulp. He laughed, as he wiped away the dribble that escaped your lips.

“The florist you like,” he admitted. “But don’t ask how I managed to wrangle roses on Valentine’s Day.”

“You wore your uniform,” you didn’t even have to think about it. “Who says no to a man in uniform?”

He shrugged, handing them to you. “Not many,” he rubbed the back of his neck, bashfully before moving to his side of the bed. “I’m so glad to be home.”

You put the glass and flowers on the bedside table and wrapped your arms around his neck to kiss him as if your lives depended on it. “You’re the love of my life, Rooster Bradshaw.”

He hummed. “Same, sweet girl,” he kissed you again; before you knew it, it was round two.

…that fucking 1 per cent.

A while later, finally mobile after hours in bed, you watched Bradley put together the best he could with the fruit and soft cheese you were going to spoil yourself with later that night (it wasn’t grocery day and you weren’t expecting to have to feed him too, you protested and he cackled).

But he was ravenous, and while sexy, a hangry Bradley Bradshaw wasn’t pleasant. So after a shared shower, you tossed on a tee while he was left with a pair of his boxer briefs he must have left accidentally and you’d found a few months back that you’d washed so they were ready for exceptions just like this.

A mix of 60’s Motown played quietly and while you’d always loved it, he’d helped you appreciate it so much more.

You muttered the lyrics to Smokey Robinson’s ‘Tracks of My Tears’ quietly while playing with a hole in the threadbare NAVY tank you wore, Bradley’s toe-tapping with the beat, muscles in his back and shoulders like poetry in motion as he pottered.

He looked stronger, broader, and tanner, you noted as you sat on the bench, watching him work intently. You didn’t reckon you’d ever felt like this. So drawn to someone, it scared you. And rightfully so. Rooster was everything you didn’t want to fall for. High-risk job, away so often, the Navy. But you’d never felt so confident in love either. You were so in love with Bradley Bradshaw. He had changed you; and for the better.

You smiled as he approached with a strawberry in his fingertips. “Open…”

You did as he instructed, chewing gently on his finger teasing, the sweetness of the berry a sudden craving. His eyebrow quirked. “Good?”

You nodded, completely transfixed over him. You pulled a knee to your chest, resting your heel on the bench. Eyes watching him, doting. “Delicious.”

“More?”

“Yes, please,” you replied softly and he brought the plate over to share, standing between your legs, holding a strawberry between his gleaming teeth. It was so fucking cheesy, but it was an excuse to kiss him. You managed to keep your hands to yourself as you stretched for his lips, teeth darting for the fruit and took a careful bite and his lips tenderly caught yours. You sighed into the kiss as he dragged you to him, his strong palm wide and flat against your lower back.

“I’m so glad to be home,” he confided. Of course you knew, but his tone was different. “I was away longer than we’ve been together.”

You knew, dear God, you knew. You’d always been impatient by nature, a direct causation from your father and grandpa doing this too… and it never got easier. You’d learned to know days, hours, minutes and seconds intimately. It made you appreciate the time to yourself, but in the past, you’d find ways to amuse yourself, like packing your bags and just getting out of the confines of your four walls. These days, like you’d told Bradley earlier, everything was just so. Just morning, just afternoon, just time for bed. And you shrugged gently, mostly for his benefit. “Nature of the beast,” you hummed.

He nodded faintly. “Baby, I’m being recalled to Top Gun next week. There are about 12 grads being brought in. High stakes but no one are really talkin’ much. I’m going to probably ship out in a month or so.”

You nodded again. Fuck... “Okay, sweetheart,” you answered, just like you were trained to make it easier on the men in your life. But your palms were suddenly clammy, your heart was pounding, blood pulsating in your ears and your anxiety was bubbling roughly under the surface. You knew what this meant, you knew it all too well. Grandpa used to put these highly specialised operational teams together when you were growing up. You’d never forget his guilt when parts of the detachment didn’t come home. It still lived deeply with him. 

He sighed, his palm running down the side of your face and forcing your gaze to his. “But I’m taking some extended time off after that, okay? I’d really like us to go somewhere. Escape San Diego. Drive to Mexico, get on a fucking plane to Hawaii, fuckin’ Alaska, I don’t care. Just you and me. No one else.”

He’d spat out a lot in a space of ten seconds. Top Gun, high stakes. A vacation. His train of consciousness confused you but you nodded because you figured it was what he needed. “Okay, whatever you want. That sounds amazing. Beach.”

He gave a faint grin, not really surprised by your vote. “Take you anywhere you wanna go. But just us.”

His stipulation was easy to agree to. “Okay,” you cupped his flushed cheek as he burrowed into your touch. You pulled him to you and held him close. You’d learnt this in the short time you’d known him that he craved being held and you would pull him into your arms anytime he needed it... and those times you did too. “Us.”

“Anywhere you want, okay?” He rested his forehead against yours as the song changed and a small smile that didn’t meet his eyes. He helped you from the bench top and pulled you into his strong, protective arms. “I love this song.”

Otis Redding, These Arms of Mine.

“Me, too,” you said like a secret as he lowered you to the floor. You watched him expectedly and took your hand in his, pressing it against his rapidly beating heart. His hand on your back guided you that one step further so that your bodies were flush against each other. He moved so fluidly, it only made you appreciate his body more.

He rested his chin on your hair, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. “The absolute goddamn desire. I think I know exactly how it feels,” he said quietly. “I definitely get the loneliness part. You know,” he paused, waiting for the line. “These arms of mine, they are burning, burning from wanting you. These arms of mine, they are wanting, wanting to hold you,” he sang lowly and you’d be lying to say you didn’t feel like you were falling just a little deeper. And you didn’t know how much deeper you could get.

“I dreamed of you every night I was away, I couldn’t get you out of my brain,” he confided, loosening his arms from his hold you around the waist, skilfully dipping you. You wrapped your leg around him, keeping him there. He’d make sure you didn’t fall. 

You were familiar. “It’s going to be so hard,” you blinked back tears although you were in his arms, already fearing the next deployment and the distance it brought.

“I love you, I love you so much,” he tenderly kissed you, tightening his hold just that little more. “I will always come back to you.”

“It scares me what you do, Bradley. It’s a different scary than Grandpa and Dad…” you buried your face in his chest, not daring to meet his eyes. He hummed to the affirmatory. It was palpable how terrified you were for him. He didn’t know how to reassure you that he would be fine, he’d done this for years. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”

He sighed heavily and guided your eyes to his. “You’ll never have to wonder, okay? Oh, baby,” he said, thumbing away a stray tear. He kissed you tenderly, putting all his reassurance and devotion into it. “Don’t cry. I’m here now, let’s make the best of this time,” with that, he stood you up and started to sway you again, nuzzling his nose from the curve of your ear to your jaw. He gently tipped your chin, allowing him access to drop hot, wet kisses against your flushed skin and he knew he heard you moan quietly. “Just play out the rest of the song with me, okay?” he instructed, his large palms caressing down your side, pressing your waist into his.

For a moment, you forgot everything, your brain short-circuiting on his strength, scent and tone. “I love you,” you breathed as he slipped his palm under your thighs and hitched you without warning or effort into his powerful arms. He eased you back against the bench and god, you’d forgotten how good it was to just kiss him. The tickle of his moustache and rub of his stubble against your cheeks, something devilishly sexy, so used to his baby-soft skin and the occasional rupture of scars, his tongue smooth against yours, laced in desperation. Your hands followed the ridges and peaks of his torso and back, making him smile against your lips as you tickled him. “Take me to bed, big boy,” you whispered.

“Yes, ma’am, thank you, ma’am,” he murmured against your lips and carried you away.

You were so carried away.

“Love, you here?” The front door slammed and you jumped, grasping at your cold, old heart. A very unlike Bradley Bradshaw entrance.

“Jesus Christ,” you muttered to yourself. “Couch,” you called to him, his heavy boots clunking down the hallway before he appeared, face hard, flight suit to his waist, dark undershirt saturated, curls dripping, biceps defined. He didn’t shower at work, you noted. He never came home in his flight suit if he could help it, choosing to leave work at work. He tossed his keys, phone and glasses on the bench and crossed his arms, not daring to approach you. “Bradley, you gave me a fucking heart attack,” you exclaimed with a nervous laugh, standing to greet him and break the tension with some comedy. “Dinner is staying warm in the oven. I didn’t expect you to be so late, baby.”

“Me either, I’m sorry,” he stood before you, stoic, hard. Angry. No, apoplectic. A silent white rage you’d never seen from him before, you could feel it radiate, just pouring off his skin. You should have been concerned he was wearing a face of stone, and truthfully, you’d never seen him so upset. But also? It was simply divine. He was very sexy when he was gruff. All muscles and sweat and muscles. Was he angry at you? Fuck, back up a minute.

“Are you okay?” You asked, confused and maybe a little fearful of his answer. You took his calloused hands in yours, clutching them tightly and forced his dark eyes to yours. “Talk to me, Bradley. Did something happen?”

He’d left this morning upbeat and excited, looking forward to whatever the day promised him with his new detachment. But your blood ran cold with his answer. “Yeah,” he nodded, staring down at you, jaw tight, voice chillingly even. “Mav is back.”

epilogue.

masterlist.

A/N: the tag list no longer exists. To keep up to date, give @notroosterbradshaw-library a follow x 

[sinkingteethinwhitenoise]

Loving You Easy - Nick Folio (18+)

Pairing: Nick Folio x fem!Reader

Warnings: SMUT 18+ MDNI, Fluff, Kissing, Fingering, Nipple Play, Unprotected p in v

Word Count: 1.6k

Notes: This is just a late ass Valentine's Day one shot. Sorry it's so late. ): Credit to @cafekitsune for the dividers.

It wasn’t Nick’s fault. You knew that. But you couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. What person in a relationship wouldn’t be if they had to spend Valentine’s Day alone? You knew he couldn’t control when the tour ended, travel time, and unexpected flight delays. That didn’t mean you weren’t allowed to be upset, though. 

The plan for your very lonely Valentine’s Day was originally to just rot in bed, watch movies, and order takeout. However, your friends seemed to have other plans. About halfway through your first movie of the day, the group chat you had with your friends started blowing up as they began to plan a Galentines outing. They decided on a plan in record time, and then began to practically beg you to come out with them. You figured that it would be better to get out and hang out with your friends instead of wallowing in your own self pity; so you agreed.

Apparently, one of your friends managed to score a 6 o’clock reservation at one of the best Italian restaurants in town. You decided not to question how they managed that on such short notice, instead finishing your movie and watching a few episodes of your comfort show to kill time until you had to get ready. 

By the time 5:30 rolled around, you were all dolled up in your cutest little red dress. Your hair and makeup were done to perfection. Well, as close to perfection as you could get it. After a quick once over in the mirror to make sure nothing was out of place, you were off. You made it to the restaurant about ten minutes early. Strangely, there was no sign of your friends when you arrived. They had said they would wait outside of the restaurant, and while there were people waiting outside, you didn’t know any of them. 

As you scanned the crowd with your eyes, you felt a tap on your shoulder. Expecting to see one of your friends, you spun around. When your eyes met the person before you, your jaw dropped and your eyes welled up with tears. There before you stood Nick, who wasn’t supposed to be back until sometime tomorrow, in slacks and a dress shirt, holding a single red rose. Without saying anything, you wrapped your arms around him and hugged him tight. He held you close with a nearly suffocating grip. 

“How are you here?” you asked him, in awe. “I thought your flight got delayed.”

“I was able to get on a different flight,” he explained, pulling back from the hug. “I had your friends cover for me so I could surprise you.”

You held his face in your hands. “I missed you so much,” you breathed, leaning in to kiss him. 

“I missed you too, darlin’,” he murmured against your lips. 

The kiss was slow, sweet, and soft. It was filled with so much love that you started to feel like you were floating. When you pulled away, you delicately dabbed at your eyes so as to not ruin your makeup with unshed happy tears. Nick finally handed you the red rose he’d brought for you and you took it with a smile. He then wrapped an arm around you and led you into the restaurant.

The moment the two of you got home, your hands were all over each other. Nick’s lips moved against yours eagerly. His hands gripped your ass and began to knead at the flesh through the fabric of your dress as you worked to unbutton his dress shirt. Once it was unbuttoned, you slid it down his shoulders. He moved his hands to shrug it the rest of the way off, then his hands were right back on you. They started at your hips this time and moved their way up and onto your back until his fingertips hit the zipper of your dress. 

“This dress is fucking beautiful,” he murmured. “But it would look so much better on the floor.” With that, he unzipped the garment and you let it fall to the floor. The cool air hit your bare breasts and caused your nipples to pebble. He took a moment to look over your body, fully take in the sight of you standing only in your panties in front of him. A groan sounded from the back of his throat. “Fuck,” he breathed. “You’re so fucking beautiful. I missed you so much.” He pulled you flush to him and kissed you again, all eagerness and need. 

You whimpered against his lips as your nipples brushed up against his warm, flushed chest. Your hands found their way into his hair, gripping it as he sucked on your tongue. You felt his hands slide to the backs of your thighs. “Jump,” he mumbled on your lips. You did as he said, your legs wrapping around his waist as he held you up and carried you to the bedroom. 

Nick placed you on the bed gently and kissed down your neck. He sucked at the spot that he knew would get you squirming, reveling in your whimpers and the way your breath hitched. Once there was a deep purple mark decorating your neck, he kissed down to your chest. He took one of your pert nipples into his mouth and sucked at it, running his tongue around it. He used his hand to play with and pinch at the other. Your back arched and soft moans escaped your lips. 

He looked up at you as he released your nipple with a soft pop and ran his tongue across it. “So sensitive,” he teased. “That feel good, baby?” 

“Mhm,” you whined, nodding your head, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth.

He switched to your other breast and swirled his tongue around the nipple. “How about we use our words?” he hummed before taking your other nipple in his mouth, sucking just like he did to the other. 

“Feels s’good,” you whined, involuntarily grinding your hips upwards. 

He groaned into your skin and began to move his hand from your breast down your body, his fingertips ghosting down your stomach on their way to where you needed him most. He ran a finger through your folds and immediately moaned, popping off of your nipple once again. “Baby,” he groaned. “You’re fucking soaked.” Before you could even respond, he plunged two fingers inside of you. 

You gasped and let out a trembling moan as he immediately started to scissor and curl his fingers inside of you. He pressed his lips to yours and sloppily kissed you as his fingers worked inside of you. You mewled into his mouth as his palm continuously bumped against your clit. He swallowed every sound you made while you clenched around his fingers. 

“You close, doll?” he murmured on your lips. 

“Mhm,” you whined into his mouth. 

“Go ‘head,” he whispered. “Come all over my fingers. You can do it, baby.”

You clamped down on his fingers like a vice, nearly sobbing as you reached your peak. Your back arched off the bed and he slowed his pace to let you ride out your orgasm. “There ya go,” he hummed. “Good job, doll.”

You whimpered when he finally removed his fingers. He brought them up to his mouth and sucked them clean, moaning at the taste. “You wanna taste yourself?” he asked with a smirk. When you nodded in response, he pressed his lips to yours once more, slowly kissing you and slipping his tongue into your mouth. When he pulled away he rested his forehead against yours. “Tastes good, huh?” he murmured, lips turned up into a small smile. 

“Yeah,” you breathed out, staring into those big brown eyes. “Nick,” you whispered. “I need you inside of me. Please.” 

“Yeah? You want it?” 

“I need it.” 

He sat up enough to get his pants and boxers off, then he lined himself up at your entrance. He slowly began to push inside, groaning once he was all the way in. “Fuuuck,” he moaned. He leaned down to capture your lips in another kiss as he began to thrust, deep and slow. 

Your back arched off of the bed as he buried himself inside of you, his hips flush to your ass. He began to grind into you while staying completely inside of you, hitting that deepest spot with each movement. He pressed his forehead to yours, “Look at me, doll.” 

You opened your eyes to look into his, whimpering with each thrust of his hips and forcing your eyes to stay open. “S’good,” you whined breathlessly. “I love you s’much.”

“Fuck,” he grunted. “I love you too, baby. So fucking much.” He began to pant as he got closer and closer to his peak, which was coming a lot faster than it would have had he not been away from you for so long. 

His rhythm began to falter and you wrapped your legs around his waist, keeping him in place. “Want you to come in me,” you breathed. You were close to your own orgasm as well, your walls fluttering around him. 

“Oh fuck,” he nearly whimpered. “I-I’m coming, oh fuck.” He made sure he was as deep as he could be as he spilled rope after rope of hot cum inside of you, moaning throughout his climax. “Fuck, I love you,” he moaned out. 

The feeling of him coming undone inside of you triggered your second orgasm of the night. Your nails raked down his back and your eyes rolled back, chanting his name as you spasmed around him, milking him dry. Once he pulled out, he quickly went to get something to clean you both up and hurried back. He gently cleaned you, careful not to do anything that would overstimulate you. Then, he laid next to you and pulled you close. You felt at home in each other's arms. And fell asleep feeling safe and loved.

[cevansbrat0007]

The Lonely Hearts Club: Part Two

Summary: Full Story! Breaking up with Andrew Barber is hard to do. You of all people should know, considering you just tried. Now what? Read Part One.

Warnings: Mature Themes, Angst, Discussions of Break-ups, Fun with Exes, Jealousy, Andy Being a Menace, Confident Reader, Eventual Smut, Cursing, Expect Additional Future Warnings, Minors DNI

A/N: Dedicated to @atkissoflife, @that-one-anxious-mango, and @piscesmermaidprincess. This multi-part fic features a combination of requests from the likes of @writer84, @lexivass, @moejdaw, and several others. It is also, part of my ongoing Growing Pains Series. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

___

February 15th - 12:25am - Los Angeles, CA

Wow. Just...wow.

You stare down at your phone as you wait for the bartender to bring you your check. While you had initially been prepared for Andy to be upset over your note, as well as your pretty abrupt departure, you certainly hadn't expected this.

If anything, he seemed almost...unbothered. By all of it. Granted, it was sometimes hard to gauge a person's tone via text. But you'd also been in a relationship with the man for the better part of six freaking months! At this point, one could argue that you were practically fluent in Andrew Barber and all of his fucking moods.

The guy was up to something, without a doubt. Which meant that you were now officially on high alert. Because your man - your ex - had never been the type to play fair.

Especially where you were concerned. You should've known that it was gonna take a hell of a lot more than a handwritten letter and a box of artisanal muffins to knock some sense into his stubborn ass.

"Argh! You are such a fucking ogre, Andrew!" You groan, burying your face in your hands. "Why can't you ever make things easy?"

The next time you look up it's to see the bartender returning with your credit card. She goes to hand it over, only for you to interrupt her mid-sentence.

What was her name again? You could've sworn it started with a "D".

"Sorry, I know I said I was ready to close out. But since men are stupid, I think I'm gonna need another margarita. Quite possibly two."

Delta gives you a sympathetic nod before pocketing your card once more. "You got it, sweetie. Still want sugar instead of salt?"

"Yes, please." You mumble, reminding yourself that it was okay to feel annoyed. Because you were. This was supposed to be your time, damn it. You deserved to take some space for yourself!

Even if it meant sitting alone at a hotel bar, missing the one person you loved more than anything, the day after motherfucking Valentine's Day. Cheers, bitches.

___

Two Weeks Later – Somewhere in Downtown Boston

Andrew Barber stares blankly at his computer screen, mindlessly tapping his index finger against his temple as a fresh wave of anger courses through his veins. 

He’d been so good the last two weeks. So patient and understanding. He’d given you your space, just like you’d asked. Never intruding with the exception of the text he shot off that night.

Even when he’d come across your latest Instagram post from a few days ago showing off your apparent date with another man. Some pretentious looking fucker who went by Russell Cromwell. You two had looked real cozy while sharing a plate full of Birria tacos. And then you’d posed outside of the restaurant with your arms wrapped around his waist. 

But the real kicker had been the last photo in the carousel. The one where you’d kissed him on the cheek – when you’d done the “knee thing” that actresses used to do in those old black and white movies you loved to watch so much.

Oh yeah. The two of you would be having a discussion about that one real soon. His wayward Baby Girl could count on that shit. 

Honestly, you had no idea how hard falling back had been for him. It had been a real struggle. Because at his core, Andrew Barber was a man of action. He was well-known for his cunning and mental prowess. This was a man who had graduated at the top of his class, who had then gone on to become the youngest District Attorney in the city of Boston’s history. 

And in times of crisis, he was someone you could count on to remain calm and collected while you worked towards a solution. Nothing could shake him, save for the trial and media circus that had briefly surrounded his late son. 

After that particular tragedy, Andy had resigned himself to being alone. Forever. He often tried to convince himself that he preferred it that way. Andrew Barber didn’t do love. Not after what happened with his ex-wife, Laurie. He was better off living a life of no commitment. 

Even if it meant a lot of lonely nights filled with a seemingly endless revolving door of meaningless one-night stands. 

And then he’d met you. 

Yes, you.

The woman who had somehow, against all odds, brought magic back into his life. Your laugh, your smile, your very presence – it colored his whole goddamn world. He told you that all of the time, and yet it was almost as if you didn’t believe him.

At first, he was convinced that you were too good to be true. Although he’d been quickly dispelled of that notion when you’d had the balls to walk out on him during your very first date. It’s quite possible that he’d fallen for you right then – because you were the type of woman who knew her worth.

By then, Andy had become convinced that you were a gift from the universe. The way he saw it, after everything he’d been through, he was owed you. You were the woman of his dreams – his very salvation – all wrapped up in a curvy little package. And when you ran that night, it called to the primal part of him that felt compelled to give chase. 

Just like now.

But what you had yet to understand was that, once a man like Andrew Barber had deemed you his forever, there was no going back. There was no letting you go. No means of escape.

At most, he’d been granted you a temporary reprieve. You both needed time to assess the situation, survey the damage, and then calculate your next move. 

And sweetness, you’d already played your hand when you’d left that little note skipped town under the pretense of taking a fucking business trip.

Fine. Now it was on him. And while you still held most of the cards, that certainly didn’t mean that Andrew Barber was walking around without an ace or two in his back pocket. And you had better believe that he was more than ready to play his own. 

But first…he needed some fucking coffee. And lucky for him, he knew just where he could find the perfect cup – shot of chocolate, dash of cinnamon, hold the whip. 

___

Forty Minutes Later – Monarch Media Group (20 Minutes Outside Downtown Boston)

You lean back in your chair and rub your tired eyes. For the life of you, you simply couldn’t seem to focus today. Or any other day for the matter.

Even though it had been almost a week since you’d returned from your trip to L.A., you still felt just as conflicted about things with Andrew Barber as you did before you’d left. And not only that, but you also found yourself feeling on edge about the entire situation.

Because after your brief text exchange the morning of February 15th, he’d left you alone. The most impatient man you’d ever encountered this side of Boston had actually found it within himself to respect your wishes. 

No calls. No texts. No emails. Not even so much as a fucking smoke signal.

And while part of you was pleased with that particular development, there was no denying the fact that you missed your Big Man. 

You could be woman enough to admit it. You missed the hell out the handsome, grumpy-faced district attorney who, up until recently, had been a major mainstay in your life. But after some serious soul searching and a generous amount of tequila, you’d come to the conclusion that it was important for you to get your mind right before moving forward with anything.

You owed it to yourself to figure out who you were outside of your relationship with Andy – needed it even. Because that man was a force to be reckoned with. He could be so dominant sometimes, his personality so completely all-consuming that it was easy to lose yourself in him. 

To allow yourself to become so entirely eclipsed by his brilliant shadow. Which is something that could absolutely happen the moment you stopped paying attention to your own wants, and needs, and desires.

And if that ever were to happen, part of you wondered whether or not you would be able to find your way back. Honestly, you had no idea.

Because after all of this, if you chose to be with him…it would mean that you were all-in. There was no other option with him.

That beautifully stubborn man didn’t have a lower setting.   

However, the last thing you’d ever expected was for Mr. Andrew “My Way or the Highway” Barber to go quietly into that good night. Well, suppose you shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Because if anything he could very well be planning–

Your inner musings are interrupted by Anya, your favorite receptionist at Monarch Media Group. Granted, she was also the only receptionist at the company you’d worked for over the last several years, but that was neither here nor there.

Anya gives you a knowing look before taking a seat on the edge of your desk. “Hi, friend.” She lightly pokes your shoulder. “How ya doin?”

“I’m okay.” You blow out a breath and then decide to exit out of your Outlook. “What’s up?”

“Oh…nothing much.” You watch as your friend and coworker helps herself to a piece of chocolate sitting in a nearby dish. 

“Okay.”

“I just stopped by to tell you that your coffee has arrived.” She dutifully unwraps it before popping it in her mouth.

“What?”

You hadn’t ordered any coffee. You didn’t usually even drink the stuff this late in the day. Unless…

“Yep. And just so happens, it was hand-delivered by the handsomest door-dasher I ever did see.” Anya pokes your shoulder again. “I would’ve accepted it on your behalf, but the guy insists on giving it to you himself. Probably angling for a tip if you ask me.” She throws you a conspiratorial wink for good measure.

Speak of the devil. Hello, Mr. Andrew “Check Out My Shit Timing” Barber.

“Ugh.” You bury your head in your hands to muffle your cry of frustration. “Can you please just tell him I’m not here?”

“I’m afraid I already let that cat out of the bag. But by the look on your face and the way you’re rocking back and forth like a human pinball, I take it I shouldn’t have done that.”

“No!” 

“Did you and Andy like…break up…or something?” Anya pauses as she reaches for another piece of candy, her hand hovering in mid-air.

No, Anya. I always feel like jumping out the nearest window. I’m fucking squirrley like that.

“Yes. No. I don’t know.” You wail. “It’s just…it’s just really fucking complicated, okay?” 

“Gotcha. So…about the coffee…” 

“I’m going. I’m going.” You stand up in a huff, wishing you knew where you put the ponytail holder that had been on your wrist just this morning. “But if he pisses me off, I’m dumping that shit on his shoes. Hot or not. I do not care.”

“Okay, but if it comes to that can you please try to do it off company property? I’m all for you handling your business, but I’m also thinking about all the paperwork I’m gonna have to do if you accidentally injure one of the city’s hottest attorneys.”

“Fuck you.” You grumble as you stalk towards the front of the office to confront the annoying asshole who also happened to be the love of your life. 

“What can I say? I’m a selfish bitch.” She chirps, blowing you a kiss.

“Your words not mine. And stay the hell out of my chocolate, you mooch!” You call out as you turn the corner, fully intending to give the Boston D.A. a piece of your mind before you politely, and very firmly, shoved him out the door. 

Because if that man thought that he could just waltz right into your place of business and act like he owned everything and everyone, then he was sorely mistaken. You were going to prove to him, and whoever the hell’s job it was to oversee this whole godforsaken cosmos, that you knew how to stand your ground.  

The sight of him standing right there in the lobby is easily enough to temporarily rob you of all reasonable thought. His back is to you, giving you the brief opportunity to give him a thorough once-over. His tailored white dress shirt is rolled up at the sleeves, exposing his brawny forearms. But what really draws your attention are his slate gray slacks, which only serves to highlight his perfectly sculpted backside. 

He looked good. Nobody deserved to look that damned good, least of all your ex-boyfriend. 

Wait. Is that – is that what he was now? Is…is that how all of this worked? Fuck! 

You note the lack of tension in his broad shoulders. All things considered, he seemed pretty relaxed. But the real question was…how long could it be expected to last?

Andy picks that moment to turn around, his bright blue eyes locking with your own as an eager grin slowly spreads its way across his handsome features. You take a steadying breath and choose to ignore it. 

“Andrew.” You exhale, trying your best to appear unaffected by his presence. It was a lie, of course. But if you managed to keep this unexpected interaction short and sweet, you just might be able to pull it off. “Wh–what are you doing here?”

“Hi.” He cocks his head to the side as he drinks you in, almost as if he’s amused by your disgruntled demeanor.

“Hello.” You cross your arms over your chest, wishing that you had chosen to wear a different sweater today. Andy loved you in this color, especially because of how it paired with your particular skin tone. 

“Happy Wednesday, baby.” 

God, he really needed to lose that stupid smile. Otherwise, how on earth were you supposed to maintain your composure? 

“Sure.”

“Brought you something.” Andy holds out one of the cups of coffee he’s carrying. “Figured you might be able to use a little pick-me-up.” 

“Thanks, but I’m good.” You tell him with a shake of your head. 

“What? Since when?” He rears back before offering up a playful pout. “We always get coffee together on Wednesdays. It’s our thing…our little afternoon delight.” This time you’re treated to a wink.

“Shh!” You hiss, bridging the distance between your bodies to slap a hand across his mouth. “Don’t say that!” 

The last thing you needed was someone to overhear that and think you two used to sneak away sometimes in the afternoon to…to well…you know. Some of the people you worked with possessed very vivid imaginations.

And besides, that whole afternoon delight business had only happened once or twice. Okay, quite possibly four and a half times – and then one more after that. 

Amusement sparkles in his gaze as he stares you down. And then you feel the faint flick of his tongue brush across your palm. When you don’t react he does it again, this time following it up with an exaggerated groan. 

You immediately jerk your hand away as if you’ve just been burned. Knowing that things were only bound to get worse, you snatch one of the coffees before grabbing his arm and dragging him outside and into the unseasonably warm weather. 

Thank goodness for small favors.

The smell of spring was definitely in the air these days, but all you can focus on is the sound of Andy’s laughter trailing behind you. Frankly, it’s enough to set your teeth on edge. Even still, he allows you to lead him down the street. At some point there’s a slight shift that results in your relinquishing his arm so that he can lace his fingers through yours.   

But you'll allow it if it means that he’ll behave for as long as it takes to make it to your destination. Which just so happens to be an empty bench located at the edge of a nearby park.

To his credit, the attractive buttface at your side doesn’t say anything during your impromptu power walk, but he also doesn’t need to. Because after two long weeks without you, the man was probably venturing into serious touch-starved territory. 

You knew it. And so did he. So part of you didn’t see the harm in giving him this one, small thing.  

Relief fills you when you finally reach the bench. Of course Andy sits first before pulling you down with him – but thankfully not onto his lap. Although you’re positive that the thought was there.

Eventually he lets go of your hand. Unsure of what else to do, you finally take a sip of your coffee. The rich, slightly bitter flavor of chocolate and mocha bursts onto your tongue, followed immediately by a quick hint of cinnamon.

Mm. A perfect cup.

“I’ve missed you, baby girl.” Andy’s large, lightly calloused hand cups your face – the roughened pad of his thumb caressing the curve of your cheek. “It hasn’t been a very fun couple of weeks.”

“I know.” You whisper as you lean into his touch and your eyes flutter closed. Perhaps you were just as starved for affection as he was. “I’m sorry.”

“Did you miss me?” His tone is gruff, but there’s no mistaking the emotion behind his words. Or the pain in his eyes for that matter. 

“I did, Andy.” So much.

“But you still left. Tried to break up with me before hopping on a plane and running off all the way to L.A. to share some chips and queso with good ol’ Rusty.” Your eyes fly open as Andy’s hand drops away. “Or did I read that wrong?” 

How the fuck had he known where you where? You hadn’t included anything about your intended destination in your letter…

“I saw it on your Instagram, in case you were wondering. Was actually able to use that stupid account you set up for me after all.” His teeth sink into his bottom lip as he narrows his gaze, trying to read your expression. “Couldn’t really get much else, although I enjoyed those pics of you at the beach.”

“It was a work trip.” You remind him, suddenly feeling defensive. “And Russell is an old friend, nothing more.”

“Hm.” Andy quirks an annoyed brow. “Are we talking about the kind of friend who also  accompanies you to the beach so you can show off your brand new bikini? Not that I’m complaining any about that gorgeous, sunkissed glow you’ve got going on, princess.” 

His big body is certainly tense, but there’s no ignoring the feral gleam in his eyes. Almost as if he’s dying to undress you and spend the next several hours checking you for tan lines. 

And he would, too. It’s not like it would be the first time. 

“I went alone. Russell stayed behind for that one.” You roll your eyes at the sight of his nostrils flaring. “Jesus Christ, dude! I know you may not believe that I’m a big girl, but I am. And if I wanna go hang out at the beach by myself, then that’s exactly what I’m gonna do!”

Which was exactly what the fuck you’d done. And it had been positively marvelous. 

“Fine.” He grunts, raising his palm towards the heavens. “God forgive me for having the sense to worry about my girl, especially since the last time I checked, she still couldn’t swim for shit.”

“Whatever, Andrew. This girl does whatever the hell she wants now, so you had better get used to it.” Your mouth is set in a thin, firm line while you silently dare him to disagree.

“I’m not quite sure how that’s different from any other day with you, but alright.” Andy tries to calm himself by playing with a stray curl that’s fallen free from your bun. “You’re still mine, sweetness. Even when you insist on being a brat. Or did you somehow forget that part?”

You swat at his hand instead of responding, hating that steady feeling of warmth that was currently pooling in your belly. 

“Did you?”

You make a show of ignoring him in favor of enjoying what was left of your coffee.

“You know, they say that sometimes silence speaks louder than words, baby girl.” You find yourself resisting the urge to clench your thighs together at the sound of the dark chuckle that rumbles through his chest. “It’s alright, though. Guess I’ll just have to remind you again once we get past this little wall you’re trying to put up between us.”

He gifts you with a flash of his pearly white teeth. Andrew Barber was the type of man who would only let you get away with so much before he put his foot down. And you would do well to remember that. 

“Pretty sure you meant to say “actions”, jackass.” Apparently he finds your acerbic wit funny as well.

“Eh, I’ve heard it both ways.” Andy shrugs before going back to toying with your curls. “But I think you should know that I’m not very happy with you, baby. And I’m trying to be patient here, but it’s kinda difficult when I can’t even get you to talk to me.”

“I was going to call you…” That wasn’t a lie. You had just been trying to drum up the mental fortitude you knew it would take to pick up the phone and actually dial his number. Sometimes, dealing with Andrew Barber could require some serious patience. 

“Were you now?” He doesn’t believe you. You can hear it in his voice.

“I was.”

“Okay, then have dinner with me tonight.” He releases your curl, watching the way it bounces as it springs free.

“Andy.” You let out an exhausted sigh.

“Meet me at my place. I’ll swing by Imperial Wok and pick up a few of your favorites so we can eat. And then we can talk in a quiet, private setting without any interruptions. How does that sound, princess?”

“Wonderful.” The word slips out before you can catch it. “But I–I can’t.”

Andrew Barber’s excited smile dies on his lips the moment that phrase reaches his ears and registers in his brain. As much as you hated to admit it, being alone with this man wasn’t a very good idea right now – especially behind closed doors.

Because while you’d never seen the man in court, you’d definitely heard plenty of stories about his ruthlessness. And you knew firsthand just how persistent he could be when he was determined to get his way. 

When Andy wanted something, he didn’t stop until he got it. Not only was he relentless, but he also wasn’t above using every tool at his disposal – including sex – if it meant having you back in his life. It wouldn’t matter all that much to him how it came about.

The same way he wouldn’t care if whether or not your desired reconciliation only happened because he’d lured you into his bed before fucking you back into submission. 

“The fu–why the hell not?” He growls, his hand grips the arm of the wooden bench so hard his knuckles go white.

“Because I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?” The pronounced tick in his jaw makes it clear that he’s beyond frustrated by your refusal. 

Unfortunately, that was too damned bad! By the time this was all said and done, your handsome ogre was going to have mastered the art of having some goddamned patience. At least you hoped that would be the case…

“Both.” You offer your Big Man a small apologetic smile as you rise from your seat. “Let’s plan for sometime next week. Maybe we can shoot for Monday. I’ll, uh, send you a text or something and we can find a place to meet. But I really need to get back to work now.”

Andy stares at you for what feels like a full minute as his impressive brain works overtime to figure out his next move. And then he stands up before taking your empty cup and discarding them both in a nearby trash bin.

“Alright.” He mutters with a nod in your direction. “I guess I’ll just have to wait for your message then. Now, let’s get you back to your office.” A lump forms in your throat when he wraps a muscled arm around your shoulders as you two begin walking back the way you came. 

Fuck, you really hated this shit. But if this relationship was ever going to have a chance of working, you had to continue standing your ground. Even though it hurt like hell.

“I, um...I know you said that we probably won’t be able to sit down and talk until next week. And I suppose I can understand where you’re coming from with that, but while I have you now…” He lightly coughs into his elbow.

You glance up at your hotshot attorney, trying to figure out where he was going with this so that you could potentially cut him off at the pass.

“I at least wanted to say “thank you” in person for still agreeing to help Lydia with the charity gala this Saturday. I’m sure that it wasn’t an easy decision for you, especially given how things have been between us lately. But I really do appreciate it. And, frankly, I’m sure the kids at St. Augustine’s do too.” 

You feel the blood drain from your face as the reminder of this weekend’s event all-but smacks in the face. “Shit!” You hiss, pulling away from Andy as you reach your building. “It’s this Saturday? Are you sure?”

 “I am.” He confirms, his eyes filled with surprise. “I just spoke with Lydia yesterday when I–”

“Fuck!” You exclaim as your hands fly to your hips, uncaring that you just interrupted whatever it was he was about to say. 

In all of the chaos, you’d completely forgotten that you had agreed to help the wife of one of Andy’s colleagues with her annual charity ball. Starting by arriving at the hotel early Saturday morning to aid in the event setup, before heading up to your room to get ready for the evening's festivities.

A room that had been booked during a time when you and Andy were on much better terms.     

“She did mention that she sent all of the volunteers an email a couple days ago with a list of instructions. Maybe it got buried in your inbox, baby.” He rests his hands on your biceps, giving you a reassuring squeeze. “But she is definitely expecting you and I’m afraid it’s probably too late for you to back out at this point.”

Deep down you knew he was right. And quite honestly, you wouldn’t even dream of doing something like this close to the actual date of the gala. But there was still the issue of having to share a hotel room with your ex.

Closing your eyes, you force yourself to take a deep breath. “I–I wouldn’t do that. I’m not that big of an asshole. I just don’t think it’s a good idea for us to share a room…” You trail off, hoping that he would at least be somewhat understanding of your current plight.

“Ahh.” You can see the moment when realization finally dawns. “Right. Almost forgot about that.”

No, he actually hadn’t. But since Andy didn’t feel as though there was any real need for you to know that, he was going to keep that particular tidbit to himself. Even he was capable of showing some restraint every now and again.   

“Like I said…” You find yourself anxiously bouncing on your toes. “I don’t think –”

“I get it, sweetheart.” 

Wait. He did? Just like that?

“You do?”

“I do.” His words are accompanied by a lopsided grin. 

He didn’t. But then again, you didn’t need to know that either.

Andy’s hands leave your arms so that he can tenderly cup the sides of your face instead. “You just leave it all to me, baby girl. I’ll call the hotel and change the reservations.”

“You will?” You place your smaller hands overtop of his own. “You…you don’t mind?”

“Not at all.” Andy leans down to press a sweet kiss to your forehead. “And I promise to be on my best behavior Saturday night.” He gives you another kiss, which you allow. “If you want, I’ll even send over the updated confirmation info.” 

“Thank you.” You murmur, wishing that you could give-in just a little more and offer up your lips for a kiss. A real one this time. 

But you couldn’t afford to do that. Not even when Mr. Andrew “Give Me A Gold Star For Being Helpful” Barber was acting sweet. That would only throw everything off balance all over again. 

Andy’s heated gaze drops to your mouth before he slowly pulls away. “Don’t work too hard, okay?” His husky voice sends one last tiny flutter through your belly. 

“Same goes for you.” You tell him as you begin to head into the building.

“Goodbye, baby girl.” 

“Goodbye, Andrew. See you Saturday.” 

He waits until you’re safely inside and out of sight before turning on his heel and proceeding in the direction of his car. Oh, you’d be seeing him on Saturday alright. And he would be on his best behavior – depending on just how much patience he could muster. 

You two would be sorting this shit out then, whether you liked it or not. When it was over, you’d both spend the rest of the weekend making up for lost time. And Andrew was going to do everything in his power to ensure you enjoyed every fucking second of it. Just like he planned to enjoy getting reacquainted with that delicate sweetness between those luscious thighs. But first…

He needed to go make a call.

END

*Part Three Coming Soon...*

___

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@blueraspberryreader

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[beanghostprincess]

Usopp has never celebrated Valentine's Day. And it's not that he hasn't had the chance, because he has. In fact, Kaya was always the one saying they should be doing something together, even as friends. But... But Usopp has never liked it? He knows saying that out loud would cause a world war inside the crew because he's aware of how beloved the day is for some of them. But it's just... Isn't it dumb? He thinks it's basically just another way capitalism and big corporations have of taking people's money. If you truly love somebody, you show it every day, not just on a random day in February. Besides, his mom always seemed a bit sad and lonely this time of the year, and Usopp never liked thinking about his parents this way.

But Sanji? Sanji adores it. It's a day of joy and love and he has an excuse to give Nami and Robin flowers and chocolate without being seen as weird. It's still weird but, you know, less weird because now there's a reason behind his actions and they're always just a bit softer on this day. Sanji himself is way softer. He gives Luffy more meat and barely argues with mosshead, and if somebody asks? It's just a day for love. He cannot be bothered to be angry today. His mom loved February 14th. It was one of her favorite days because she kept saying she celebrated all kinds of love, not only the romantic ones. Sanji was always excited to see her at the hospital on those days.

So when they start dating and February comes... They have different reactions to it. It's- It's a bit hard to handle at first.

The sniper realizes it's Valentine's Day right when he wakes up, and he kind of sort of wants to die because he hasn't gotten anything for Sanji and he knows how much this day means to him. Usopp just never thinks about it or remembers until Sanji explicitly screams about it. He blames Nami for not reminding him either. Not that it's her responsibility, but the girl could've helped. Whatever- He's not panicking. He's not. It's a dumb, stupid holiday and there's no need to do anything. He doesn't owe Sanji a Valentine's Day because it's dumb.

Besides. They barely started dating. And Sanji only ever gets gifts to the girls. There's zero chance he's gonna prepare something for Usopp.

Or so he thinks. Because the second he wakes up, there's a box right next to his bunk bed and he knows he's fucked. He doesn't want to open it. He truly doesn't. But if course he does. It's a beret. One he fell in love with a long time ago. Back when they weren't even dating. Back when even the possibility of dating Sanji was just a faint dream. So he- He doesn't even want to ask how the hell Sanji got this or when, but there's so much guilt inside of him that Usopp doesn't want to get out of bed.

But he has to, doesn't he? So he does. And he hates himself a little too much during the whole day. Sanji kisses him oh so sweetly. The pet names are over the charts. The guy won't stop speaking in French, which he knows makes Usopp weak in the knees. He cooks his favorite meals, and aside from the beret, he gives him a bunch of flowers he says he has been growing himself in secret (oh lord, for a botanist that's peak romanticism). And Sanji hasn't even paid much attention to anybody else. Not even the girls. It's as if only Usopp existed. And the thing is-- Usopp is expecting Sanji to throw a tantrum or get angry or be mad about Usopp not doing anything for him.

Sanji doesn't expect anything in return, apparently, and he doesn't seem that bothered about it. That's what ends up fucking up Usopp the most, in the end. Because he knows why Sanji is like that. He knows why Sanji doesn't care about it. He hates it.

He tries to approach the topic subtly:

Usopp: I... Hey, Sanji? Sanji: Yes, mon trésor? Usopp: I'm sorry for not getting you anything for today. It's just- You know Valentine's Day is not my thing and I sort of forgot- Sanji: That's alright. Do you think I'd reduce our relationship to only today? Usopp: No, of coruse not. But, just saying, that if you want to be angry, I don't mind. You have the right to want these romantic things. Sanji: As long as you like what I have planned for you, that's all the gifts I need.

But it doesn't sit right with Usopp. The fact that Sanji never thinks about himself this way and yet keeps showering him with love and gifts instead. So he waits until nighttime because he knows it's Sanji's turn to watch the ship and he knows he'll probably be in the kitchen more often than not. It's not much, but he thinks about something he can do for Sanji.

Everybody is asleep when Sanji finds a letter, a notebook, and flowers on the dining table. While Usopp watches his whole reaction from the door, hoping not to get caught. It's a stupid, overly romantic letter that Usopp has written in no time because whenever he thinks about Sanji, the words just come out of him easily, like a story he never wants to stop telling. The notebook is basically just his sketchbook, and it isn't a gift because it wasn't planned to be one, but it is all the drawings he has made of Sanji over the time they've been together, and Usopp thinks that's way better than just any letter. Meanwhile, the flowers are just the most peaceful and beautiful ones of his garden. The ones he uses more for scents rather than explosives.

It's not the best gift he could've made. It really isn't. But he thinks it's enough to show Sanji that he deserves these things too. He doesn't want his boyfriend to spend any other Valentine's Day assuming he won't be getting any form of love from Usopp.

What the sniper isn't expecting is Sanji to start sobbing all of a sudden. That's when Usopp realizes he needs to step into the kitchen. He's panicking a little while Sanji cries, sitting right next to him and holding his wet cheeks in his hands to check if he's alright. Maybe he has truly fucked up with the gift? Maybe he didn't like it? Perhaps he shouldn't have gotten involved. Fuck. Fuck.

But... But Sanji starts laughing? For some reason? He laughs between tears and grabs Usopp's hands in his and kisses them, holding him close.

Sanji: I'm sorry. Shit. I hate it when I get like this. I'm sorry. I'll stop. Usopp: What? No- No, Sanji. What's wrong? Did you not like it- Sanji: Huh? How could I not like it, dumbass? I'm crying because it's the sweetest, sappiest most romantic thing somebody has made for me and it's from the love of my life. How could I not- Idiot. Shut up. Usopp: I'm... The love of your life? Sanji: Did I not make it clear today? Usopp: Then you... You like it? Sanji: Idiot. Yes. I do. Usopp: Well, then expect all of our Valentine's Days to be like this from now on and forever, because your fantastic boyfriend Usopp will be known as the king of Valentine- Sanji: Dear, I know you love doing that. And I adore it. But the king of Valentine's Day is me and I'm not letting you have the title. Usopp: But we're together. Then that means we're both kings. Sanji: We would if we were married. Usopp: Then... We should- Sanji: Stop right there. Usopp: Huh? Why can't you let me be romantic?! Sanji: ... If you say it I don't think I'll be able to handle it- Usopp: Oh, shit, you want to marry me for real? Sanji: Yes? No- Not yet. Someday. I- Please, don't make me cry again.

Usopp truly can't wait for the next Valentine's Day with him.

[angelasscribbles]

My Lonely Valentine (The Agreement) A One-Shot

Series: The Agreement

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings: Riley x Liam, Riley x Drake

Rating: NSFW 🍋🍋🍋

Warnings for this chapter: Lemons, or should I say almost lemons? Lemon adjacent?

Word Count: 3,269

A/N: This is a prequel one-shot. Occurs before the events in the main series.

Submission for the @choicesholidays Valentine's Day prompts.

My other stuff: Master List.

Riley walked into the informal dining room of Balymore, her estate in Valtoria, to find the table draped with a red silk cloth, flames flickering from wrought iron candelabras, and gleaming silver cloches gracing the tabletop.

Her mouth fell open and she turned to her husband in name only in astonishment. “What is all this?”

“Oh…ah…” Drake stuttered over his words as his brain spun frantically trying to find the right thing to say that would make his romantic gesture less romantic and not awkward. “I…um…I know you were disappointed that Liam had to cancel your plans for today, so I just wanted to do something to cheer you up.”

Disappointed was an understatement. It was Valentine’s Day and Liam had cancelled their plans. She shouldn’t be surprised. She should be used to it. But it hurt. A good cry and a hot bath had helped, but after a long nap, she’d found herself ravenous. Her quest for food had led her downstairs where she’d followed her nose to find the source of the delicious aroma wafting up to her.

Confusion pinged through her as she took in his demeanor. “What about your plans? Didn’t you have a date?”

“Yeah, well, that fell through.”

“Oh, Drake, I’m so sorry!” Her voice was full of so much sympathy that he felt like an ass for lying.

“It wasn’t anything serious anyway.” The truth was, he had canceled the date when he’d realized Riley would be left home alone. He had only asked the girl out so that he wouldn’t be home when Liam arrived. Not out of jealousy, but fear of discovery. He was sure his best friend could read his love for his supposedly in-name-only wife all over his face.

It was getting harder to fight his feelings for her. The more Liam fucked up and neglected her, the harder it became.

He wasn’t jealous of Liam per se. He loved the guy, and he was fully aware of the myriad web of circumstances that had led to him having to marry for political alliances and not love.

Still.

The effect it had on Riley was the same and it hurt him to watch her suffer. He had agreed to marry her to keep her at court and near Liam. A marriage of convenience. A favor for his friends. An act of service for the two people he loved most in the world.

The problem was that the longer they lived together, the closer they became and the harder he fell. He had tried to fix it, put distance between them, but his stupid, traitorous heart wouldn’t let him move on. And he had tried.

The first year they were together had been so full of turmoil that he had just focused on getting her through it. Once they had moved to Valtoria and she had settled into her new position as Duchess, she had encouraged him to find a relationship of his own.

“You shouldn’t have to suffer just because I am.”

The full truth of the situation was that he had only half-heartedly dated so that she would stop worrying about him and his happiness. Because he would do anything for her. Even date other women. But his heart had never been in it.

Every relationship he had entered had ended before it really began. Two or three dates at most. Several of the women had dumped him citing with confusion that he seemed to actually love his wife.

Everyone on the planet could see that, apparently. Everyone but her.

Because she was too busy letting Liam break her heart over and over.

“Still. I’m sorry your date canceled. I know what that feels like.”

“I’m fine.” He brushed her concern off with a twinge of guilt but telling her that he had been the one to cancel would just open up questions he wasn’t ready to answer. Or more to the point, questions he wasn’t sure she was ready to hear the answers to.

He would confess his feelings right then and there if he thought she returned them. But she was in love with Liam. He knew that.

“Stop worrying about my love life and come eat before it gets cold.”

She inhaled deeply as she stepped toward the table, “It smells so good! What is it?”

“Deep fried chicken and cheese stuffed avocado.” He told her as he pulled her chair out for her.

Her face lit up as she sat. “Really?”

“Yes,” he affirmed as he took his own seat. “I know it’s your favorite.”

“But…how? I gave the kitchen staff the night off!” Neither of them had planned to be home.

“Oh, ah…” a flush spread across his face as he rubbed the back of his neck, “I made it.”

She pulled the cloche off the plate then turned her head to him in bewilderment, “You made this?”

He scoffed while shaking his head. “Don’t act so surprised. I can cook. You know this.”

“I mean yes but this is next level!” The avocados were browned to perfection and served with a beautifully roasted Mediterranean vegetable medley, garlic mashed potatoes, and piping hot Ciabatta bread.

He tried to lighten the mood. “I’m offended that you’re this impressed, Riley. I have mad kitchen skills.”

“I know. I just can’t believe that you did all this for me.” A single tear slid down her cheek.

He leaned forward in concern, wiping the tear away. “Hey, hey, hey! What’s that about?”

“Nothing,” she smiled at him through the wetness pooling in her eyes. “These are happy tears. I didn’t think this day could be salvaged, but you somehow managed it.”

“Yeah, well, what are husbands for?” He gave her a disarming smile as he sat back in his chair and turned his attention to his plate.

She laughed at their shared joke. He always said that when he did something nice for her. It was funny because he wasn’t really her husband.

But he kind of was, wasn’t he?

She dropped her eyes to her plate to cover her sudden flush. He was always doing sweet things like this. He was always there when she needed someone to talk to. Though she would never tell Max or Hana, Drake had become her best friend.

He had left his job as a member of the King’s Guard to move to Valtoria with her. He had been there for her when her grandmother passed away. The last time Liam had stood her up, Drake was ready with her favorite pizza and a movie she’d been wanting to see.

What are husbands for?

It was beginning to feel less and less like a joke because it had become the truth.

How true?

She suspected Drake’s feelings for her. How could she not? She had pushed him to date others. It wasn’t fair to let him waste his life taking care of her when she was in love with another man.

Yet here he was, on Valentine’s Day, taking care of her once again.

She stole a surreptitious glance at him as they ate. Maybe he had deeper feelings for her than she initially suspected.

No, she was imagining things. He was just being a good friend. Because that is what he was. Her friend. And Liam’s.

Liam.

Guilt swirled through her at the thought of her supposed boyfriend. Annoyance followed the guilt. He had stood her up. Again. Why should she feel guilty for anything? He married another woman for the love of God.

Not because he wanted to.

The guilt was back at the reminder of the impossible situation Liam had been placed in, but it was mingled with hurt, embarrassment, and a fair amount of anger.

She knew everyone thought she was an idiot for waiting around on scraps of the king’s time and affection. For uprooting her entire life to chase after him to Cordonia in the first place, for staying even after his rejection, and for continuing to believe that she was a priority to him.

Everyone but Drake.

He never judged her.

She lifted her eyes to his face as he regaled her with tales of Max’s misadventures from when he had tagged along on Drake’s latest fishing trip with Bastien.

“… And then he tripped over the side of the boat and fell in the water!” Drake shook with laughter at the memory.

Riley forced an obligatory smile, but she had missed most of the story, her mind occupied with an entirely new idea.

Her eyes focused on his mouth hoping he didn’t notice the flush on her face as her mind refused to stray away from imagining what his lips would feel like on her neck, on her mouth…other places….

She forced her eyes down to her plate and focused on eating her dinner. The dinner that her husband in allegedly name only had taken the time to prepare with his own two hands.

When the meal was over, she tried to clear the table, but he wouldn’t let her. “No, no, I’ve got this! I’m just going to clear the table and rinse the plates real quick. Why don’t you go pick something to watch? Whatever you want.”

“You sure? You did all this work. The least I can do is let you pick the movie.”

“Nah.” He waved her offer away. “As long as you’re happy, I’m happy.”

A multitude of emotions swirled through her as she watched him walk out of the room with the dishes. If you’re happy, I’m happy. He meant that. He was always saying things like that. He was always going out of his way to do little things to make her happy.

She made her way to the media room and flipped absently through the streaming selections as a million images of Drake fell through her mind. Drake, making her laugh when she was sad. Drake, holding her when she cried. Drake, always keeping himself between her and the reporters. Drake, scrambling eggs in their kitchen at two a.m. because they’d stayed up late watching stand-up comedy specials again.

When had he become such a huge part of her life? Yes, she had married him, but that had been on paper only, so she could stay near Liam.

And yet it was Drake who had attended her grandmother’s funeral with her. It was Drake who had taken care of her when she had the flu last year. And it was always Drake who picked up the pieces after Liam shattered her heart time and time again.

Why was she keeping him at arm’s length?

He showed up in the media room with her favorite blanket, a steaming cup of hot chocolate, and a small box tucked under his arms.

She accepted the cup and the blanket while trying to peer at the box. “What’s that?”

“Oh, this?” He teased, holding it out toward her but up out of her reach.

Her eyes widened as she glimpsed the label. “Are those dark chocolate truffles?”

“Maybe…”

“Drake!” She laughed as she deposited her cup on the end table and made a grab for the promised treat.

He lifted them easily out of her reach with a teasing smile. “What? Did you want these?”

“You know I do!” She tried to pout but the smile tugging her lips upward made that difficult to maintain.

“I don’t know….” He pretended to think deeply about it. “Maybe I should keep these for myself.”

With a joyful laugh, she launched herself off the couch, her fingers touching, but not completely grasping the elusive chocolates. The impact of her body colliding into his, combined with his misstep as he tried to dodge her, sent him toppling backward onto the couch where he landed in a slightly reclined position. Her momentum carried her forward so that she landed on top of him, laying on his chest, looking up into his face.

They were both laughing as their gazes met. A sudden silence descended on them as they stared into each other’s eyes. The smiles faded as lips parted and breath caught.

She moved first, bringing her lips to his. Her kiss was tentative. His response was not.

His arms went around her, the box of truffles dropped and forgotten on the floor. He pulled her tight against him as his tongue deftly took control of her mouth. One hand tangled in her hair as the other slipped under her shirt to caress the smooth skin of her back. A plaintive whimper escaped him as he pressed his rapidly growing hardness up into her.

Riley responded, melting into his embrace, no longer tentative. She pressed herself against him as their kisses became more passionate, almost frantic.

She broke the kiss to gasp for air. “Drake…should we—"

Drake froze for a moment, and then jolted upright, gently moving her off him. “Shit, Riley!” He raked a hand through his hair as he pushed himself back away from her. “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry!”

“What are you sorry for? I kissed you!”

“It was just the heat of the moment.”

“Is that all it was?” She asked him softly.

“Yeah…” He responded unconvincingly.

“Are you sure it wasn’t more than that?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know…” her fingers twisted the hem of her shirt nervously. “You made this whole romantic dinner…”

“I wanted to cheer you up. Because we’re friends and—"

“You went out of your way to get me my favorite candy.”

“No, I didn’t. I just….” He closed his eyes with a shuddering sigh before pushing through with the lie. “I was already in the store, and I saw it…”

“You’re a bad liar.”

His eyes flew open, and he fixed her a look that was almost pleading. “What do you want from me, Riley?”

“I think the question is, what do you want from me, Drake?” She scooted closer to him taking in the way he watched her warily. Like a rabbit watching a coyote approach, his face full of fear, longing, and a guarded passion.

He swallowed thickly and tried for a normal tone of voice. “The movie…”

Her hand slid up his thigh to the bulge in his pants. “A movie? Is that really what you want right now?”

“Fuck…” he breathed out in defeat as a shudder ran through his body. He grabbed her wrist to stop her but instead of pushing her away as he had intended, he found himself pulling her into him as he leaned forward, and then they were kissing again.

Lips and hands explored bodies and pulled at clothing. His heart thundered in his chest as a small part of his mind screamed at him to stop, to put the brakes on this.

That part was overruled as she pulled her top off and dropped it on the floor next to them. He stopped breathing for a moment as he drank in her naked form. He yanked his own shirt off and dove back in.

Riley arched her back as she gave herself over to the sensations cascading through her body. Drake’s hands on her bare skin were calloused, rough. The friction was a sharp contrast to the smoothness of her bare flesh. It felt good, forbidden, delicious. She shivered as goosebumps erupted along her spine.

His hot lips on her throat sent ribbons of white-hot desire shooting through her and coiling in her center.

She cried out in protest when he withdrew that touch. “Why are you stopping?”

“I…we shouldn’t…”

“Don’t you want me?”

A self-deprecating laugh slipped out of him. “I want you so fucking bad….you have no idea….. but not like this.”

“Like what?”

“You’re upset…vulnerable...”

“I was upset.” She drew his hand back to her body; he didn’t resist as she placed it so it was cupping a pert breast. “That’s not what I’m feeling right now.”

He was struggling mightily to keep his voice even as he gasped for breath. “…don’t want you to regret…”

“I won’t…”

“You’re in love with Liam…”

“I am…” She dropped her hand and pulled back a little. “We can stop if you want.”

“If I want?” His gaze searched hers, unsure exactly what he was looking for.

“Yes, you. I don’t want to stop.”

“But Liam—”

“I don’t want to think about Liam right now, Drake. I don’t want to think about tomorrow or what any of this means. But…” She moved away from him reluctantly. “I understand if you do.”

He instantly regretted the distance between them.

Before he could decide how to proceed, there was a knock at the door.

Drake’s eyes closed as frustration, relief and a smidge of anger pinged through him.

There was only one person it could be this late.

Talk about timing.

He quickly pulled his shirt back on and tossed her blouse to her. “I’ll go answer the door. You might want to fix your hair, it’s a little mussed.”

“Drake—”

“No, it’s okay,” he told her as he pulled her to him and dropped a quick kiss on the top of her head before pushing her gently away. “Go make yourself presentable. I’ll show Liam in.”

“Right.” She redressed and hurried over to the closest mirror to smooth her hair back into place.

Drake combed his fingers through his own hair on his way to the front door. Pulling it open, he greeted his best friend with, “Thought you couldn’t get away, Your Majesty?”

“Some last-minute things came up, but I finally managed to slip away.”

“It’s a little late. Valentine’s Day is pretty much over.”

Liam glanced at his watch as he stepped through the doorway. “Not really. Where is she? And why are you home? I thought you had a date.”

Drake shrugged. “She canceled on me. Sick pet or something.” He was only a little horrified at how easily the lie rolled off his tongue. “Riley’s in the media room. We were just about to watch a movie.”

Liam started down the hall. Looking over his shoulder, he asked, “Are you coming?”

“No. I’m going to turn in early. You two have fun.”

He needed a shower. A cold one.

He sprinted up the stairs, taking them two at a time. He slammed his bedroom door behind him and then leaned back against it, gently banging his head into it several times before muttering to himself, “The fuck did I just do? Stupid, stupid, stupid!”

He shed his clothes as he walked across to the room and into the ensuite. He needed relief.

The water pounded down on him as he wrapped his hand around himself. His head tipped back and his eyes fell closed as he remembered her half-naked form in front of him, the feel of her skin under his fingers, the taste of her lips…..

He groaned out loud as streams of milky whiteness pulsed out of him and splashed onto the tile. He placed both hands on the wall and leaned forward, letting the water run over the back of his head as he watched the detritus of his desire swirl down the drain.

It wasn’t the first time that his ardor for her had landed him in this position, but he knew it was different this time.

They had crossed a line tonight. A line that couldn’t be uncrossed. Even though they hadn’t done the deed, the genie was out of the bottle-- his feelings for her, their obvious sexual attraction to each other, all of it.

He just had no idea what to do about any of it.

[track-five]

requests!

for anyone who's curious, here's my current list of what should be all your requests and the (minimal) progress made. i'll update this post periodically as new fics go out :)

h/c

l:

wakes up ill on his birthday: more than you could ever know

(x10) the infamous chest infection (2013): draft in progress

(x2) drinking too much in south africa (2014)

nrj music awards: "been sick all night. still really unwell" tweet (2014)

not feeling well on tour (september 2023)

(x4) not feeling well on the last show of tour (2024)

(x2) trying to make it through a meticulously-planned valentine’s day while ill: draft in progress

drinks too much with his team/friends, h looks after him

getting sick, h helps but is wary of catching it

feeling unwell and lonely on tour

(x2) apparently this man always gets ill in september (2013 and 2015 shows?)

h:

h during the live lounge: i'm torn

anxious and feeling sick before x-factor performances (2010)

needing his inhaler at msg (2012)

sick on stage in pittsburgh (2013)

(x4) sick on stage in melbourne (2013)

(x2) hayfever during australian shows and/or the 60 minutes interview with subsequent larry denial (2013)

(x4) the four hangout (2014)

needing help from l with the ready to run bridge (2014 perhaps?)

the late late show (2015): draft in progress

having a cold in japan (2023)

possibly (?) injuring his knee frankfurt night two (2023)

gets a cold when lot ends, l cares for him (2023)

stubborn husbands: h wants to be cared for but won't admit it, l is in a mood but worries from afar

has a stomachache, oops it’s appendicitis!

wakes up ill on his birthday

laryngitis, no voice to communicate with l

hl:

trying to look after each other, but they have to go to family for help: stay another day or two

baby boyfriends feeling ill and self-conscious but worrying for each other: draft in progress

quarantined in a hotel room on tour to spare the others

don't let l set foot in the kitchen or he will give you food poisoning

au:

stomach bug (uni)

"it's just a hangover" surprise it's a cold! (uni)

"it's just a cold" surprise it's pneumonia!

fresher's flu (uni)

general:

(x3) “if you go out in the rain, you’ll catch a cold” trope

tonsillitis/tonsillectomy

migraine: draft in progress

something feels off while travelling, one of them ends up feeling really ill upon arrival

long travel day (stuck in airport, plane, etc.) while one has flu and the other tries to make it as bearable as possible

the first time they ended up in hospital together

emotional h/c or angst:

"piss off", "wanker"

seasonal depression

based on aotv scene before the final performance with h, liam, and helene

argument over louis' smoking habit

jealous husbands arguing

l jealous of h's platonic relationships with the boys

platonic zarry re: zayn's mental health and departure: draft in progress

h anxious for his first sott performance

(x3) disordered eating/body image, referential to gender and/or fame: draft in progress

h takes care of l through depressive episode

one bottling up his emotions until it spills over after drinking/guys' night out

waoyf smut

other:

listening to a song written about them for the first time

gender-ry/gender identity

niall's knee injury

coffee shop au

h plastered at the brits, goes home to l who looks after and praises him (2020)

horny little goblins are forced to do their jobs, aka trying unsuccessfully to fool around before a show

wedding/proposal

*if you sent in an ask, i promise i have the full description/context copied into my requests doc...i shortened them here for simplicity :)

**draft in progress could mean it's nearly finished or maybe i've only written five-hundred words, so take that as you will