#both to propose and because he got winded from laughing so hard

[nocanonhere]

Happy Wyll's Week! Day 6/7

-Say Yes (NSFW, finally) Set the night of his proposal, and what happens after. (centered around my Tav, Aiya. Elf-Dragon Sorceress)

“Here?” She huffs, on top of him but still being cautious about lowering onto him.

“Right here,” he answers confidently, then his eyes widen. “Or rather, over there, where I put the blankets.”

She laughs, leans back down to kiss him. “And the pillows. And the candles. And the wine.”

“I wanted us to be comfortable,” he answers in between kisses.

The slide of their lips against each other is drawing something down Wyll’s chest, through his core and lower still.

“Comfortable for what?” she asks innocently, as if her hands hadn’t already started unbuttoning his shirt. As if he isn’t already straining against his pants. As if he hadn’t just told her a moment ago, before they started this tumbling, to get down here so they could start their happily ever after.

She had seemed pleased with his surprise throw, letting him revel in the success for just a moment before locking her thighs around him and flipping them both.

He’s going to get her on her back again, because he has things to do to her that require it. But for now, he is enjoying this view of her on top of him; he is enjoying the tease of her hovering over him instead of sitting.

And he recognizes her goading for what it is. He’s eager to play along. What good is him being long-winded if he couldn’t utilize it where it really counted.

“Would you like me to tell you, or show you?” he asks, stopping their kissing for a moment.

She smirks at him then; its slow, sure, and coupled with the glint in her eyes, predatory.

She leans back in, hovering above his lips before moving to the side of his neck instead.

“Both,” she answers, pressing her lips against his skin. He groans, shifting a bit, hips raising up minutely, searching for the contact he wants there.

“In that order,” she continues, moving her kisses across his throat to the other side. He likes her on top, wants to get her back there later. But as she darts her tongue out and licks the shell of his ear, he curses, moves his own legs around hers, and flips them again.

He’s careful about keeping a hand on the back of her head as he does so. And they still aren’t on the blankets, but they are getting close. He presses himself to her finally, letting her feel just where his intentions lie.

She licks her lips, and it is a gesture he has noticed she always does. When she’s lost in thought, particularly.

It’s not just a quick slip of the appendage over her mouth. It’s a slow, circling trail from her top lip to her bottom lip. And he has always found it distracting, silently chiding himself for thinking too hard about the action. It’s even more disarming now, with that look in her eyes again.

She likes being thrown around a bit.

He notes that for later as he leans down, mimicking her from a moment ago, and moving to the side of her neck. He decides to do worse than her, and lets his tongue make the first contact, followed by his lips.

The sound it brings out of her is a stifled moan, held back by her bottom lip trapped between her teeth. He wants more of that, unbound and louder.

He groans at the knowledge of what he’s about to do; what he has refrained from doing every time they steal away to run their lips over each other.

He moves up, and trails his tongue over the high point of her ear. He had always wondered if they were sensitive, and if they were, how sensitive. But he never asked.

He’ll never have to, now.

He got his wish from just a moment ago. She moans for him, open and needy. He does it again, and he can very well tell that an addiction to her noises is going to form.

He keeps doing it, dipping down to tease the middle of her ear instead of the shell, and she bucks against him.

He switches to the other side, hands clenching the grass around her as she begins to undulate against him.

“First,” he begins, moving to trail light kisses over her neck. “I’m going to lay you out on those blankets.”

She exhales a laugh.

“I’m going to get you out of your clothes, and anything underneath.”

He pulls back to look her in the eyes, bringing their noses together. He grabs one of her hands with his, lacing their fingers.

“I’m going to kiss you, everywhere. Your wrists, up your arms, over your chest. And then down.”

He shifts again, lining the hard ridge of him up with her core.

“And?” she asks.

“I’m going to kiss your beautiful legs, then grab them behind the knee and push them back.”

She moves against him faster, a little frantic, compared to his expectations. He wonders how long it has been for her.

He is going to give this first round his best try. Because it’s been a while for him too, and coupling like this was an infrequent thing as well.

Contrary to their group’s jokes, yes, he had done this before.

“And you’re going to hold them, so I can have some room.”

“Oh,” she says.

“And I am going to spell out the rest right between your legs.”

She exhales sharply. “Wyll, come on.”

He adores her impatience, reveling in how it contrasts to her usual demeanor. She’s not a mess, not yet. But this is already so different from how she is with everyone else. She’s always focused, quiet, and collected.

He doesn’t want any of that tonight, not in this setting.

He gets off her, and they both move over to the blanketed area he set up earlier under the tree.

If she ended up not wanting to go that far tonight, that was fine. He had brought the wine, and a few snacks in a backpack hidden behind the tree.

She decides to start on herself first, unlacing her sandals and flinging them off her feet.

“You too,” she orders, moving her hands to unlace her pants.

“Not yet,” he answers, to both. He grabs her hands and moves them back to her sides. “Allow me.”

He slowly trails his hands up her stomach to her neck. He lets them linger there, lighting grasping the sides of her face.

She is jittery. Maybe he doesn’t need to draw this first one out.

He brings his hands back to her stomach again, but this time it’s to ease her shirt up, revealing skin where he doesn’t normally see it.

He sighs, and she sits up to help him take her shirt off easier.

What’s underneath catches him by surprise.

“Oh,” he says, staring at her chest. “That’s…where did that set come from?”

“Figaro’s,” she answers, smug. Glad to have caught him off guard.

“Noted,” he says, leaning down to kiss her again.

It’s a flattering, sage colored bralette. The material is no mere cotton. Rather, shimmering with what is supposed to resemble snake skin. It looks gorgeous on her skin. He wasn’t aware Figaro’s was making wares such as these. But he knows where to shop in the future for her, if he wants to see more of their work.

He moves down, kissing over her neck, and stopping at the top of her chest, reaching for one of her arms instead and starting there.

“Wyll,” she says. “Don’t tease.”

“So impatient,” he whispers, trailing kisses up her inner arm. “You told me to tell you, then show you.”

“Then can you tell me more?”

He smirks, reaching her inner elbow and planting a kiss there before mirroring his actions on the opposite arm. He kisses up this one slower, keeping his eyes locked on hers.

“I want you quivering on my tongue.”

“Oh my-

“I want you moaning for me.”

She nods, lip drawn back between her teeth, thighs pressed together.

“I want to taste you, especially when you peak.”

“Wyll,” she moans.

“And I want to see it. Because I have to know how you do it.”

“Wyll,” she says more urgently.

He puts her arm down then leans back to finish unfastening her pants.

“Have to know if you go silent or if you scream.”

“Oh hells.”

“If it rushes out of you, drowning me in your essence. Or if it trickles out of you.”

She exhales again, a high pitched whine in her voice.

He has her pants undone, and reaches for her waist to start sliding them down.

“If you’ll let me keep going, even though you just came. And if I can slide a finger inside you and feel where I know you’re going to devastate me the most.”

She moans, long and needy. “Wyll, please. Please.”

He’s done teasing her for now, because he’s messed himself up in the process of trying to mess her up as well. He reaches for his own pants, undoing the laces and giving himself a little more room. He finishes sliding the fabric off her legs, smiling at the matching set of underwear covering her.

She looks so pretty in them. But she’s going to look better with them off.

He hooks a finger under the line of fabric on her hip, and teases.

“Wyll, for the love.”

He laughs at her insistence. Likes that he’s got her bossy here. He hopes his love for her will grant him enough stamina to stroke that tone out of her.

If not the first time, then later on. They really have all night.

“Take that off” he points to her bra, and starts to undo the lacings at her hip.

He undoes both sides, using a hand to grab them off her at the middle and tossing those to the side.

“Fuck,” he says lowly. “No, keep them spread,” he adds on, once he sees her closing her thighs out of sheer reaction.

She whines, doing as he said, and opening her legs.

For now, he’s done teasing. He grabs one of the pillows from the side and plants it under her lower back. He grabs another and asks her to sit up so he can set it under her head.

He grabs her legs and folds them back, and she remembers what he said and grabs the backs of her knees, fully baring her lower half to him.

He places a palm over himself and presses down as he stares at her. He stares at the hair there, getting a little light headed at how shiny she already is.

He looks further, daring to stare at something else he’s been wondering about, but isn’t ready to confess just yet.

He look at her face, sees the slight nervousness there, mixed in with her attraction.

“So beautiful,” he assures her, leaning down to kiss her stomach. “May I kiss you?”

“Please do.”

He kisses above her lower lips first, sighing at the touch of her curls against his mouth. When he goes lower, she jolts hard, already losing her grip on one of her legs.

“You alright, my love?” he looks up to ask.

“Yes,” she says. “You can keep going.”

He nods, maintaining that eye contact as he leans back down, pressing a kiss to her again.

He continues to do it, holding her gaze and watching her chest heave the more intense he goes with it. He slips his tongue out, adding it to his kisses, filling the air around them with the sounds. She is whining gently, but she is keeping her legs supported still.

He wants to make her buck again.

He opens his mouth and latches it onto the nub he was slowly coaxing from between her lips.

She hisses. “Oh. Oh, Wyll.”

He hums into her, closing his eyes for a moment and indulging in her taste. She’s already so aroused, it is strong on his tongue.

He wants to know specifically what she likes. Every body is different, and he wants to learn which actions were going to get her mewling for him the fastest.

So he tries a few things; he continues to suck at her, which causes her to grunt behind her bitten lips. He licks her; long, deep laps from the flat of his tongue. She likes it, and it causes more of her arousal to slip out of her.

He takes one more lap before curling his tongue and flicking it over her gently.

“Fuck,” she yells. “Yes. Yes, like that.”

He continues, alternating with flicking his tongue, sucking her into his mouth, and pulling back to breathe.

He chooses to move the time clock up a bit. He wants to slip a finger into her now. He shifts a bit from where he’s laying, bringing his right hand up to rub over her.

“Is this okay?” he asks, mesmerized by the motion of his own hand over her.

“Yes.”

He brings his hand down, flipping it palm up, and teasing his pointer finger against her opening. He gently eases it in and out, sinking more into her every few strokes. He’s panting, because she feels so silken and wet and-

“I cant wait to be inside you,” he says, continuing to move his finger in and out.

He goes back to her nub, continuing the pattern of flicking and sucking, along with moving his finger in and out of her.

“Can I put another one in?” he leans up to ask. “Huh?”

“Yes,” she whines. “Just…be gentle.”

“Of course, my love,” he whispers, bringing his middle finger up and teasing its entry as well. “I’ll be very kind to her.”

He slides it in along his first finger, and already feels that this is a tight fit for just two of his fingers for now. He gets lightheaded just thinking about pushing his cock in.

“Hmm,” she says. “It’s okay if you’re a little mean to her sometimes.”

He laughs, dark and suggestive. “Is that so? My love likes to be roughed up a bit?”

“More than a bit.”

“You’ll have to teach me how,” he reminds her.

“I will,” she assures, throwing her head back and letting herself get lost to the sensations.

He isn’t sure how long he’s at it, but he switches from staring at her glistening, heaving chest to his own fingers pumping in and out of her. He experiments with the speed, finding that a moderate pace with intermittent flicks of his tongue is what keeps her mewling. It takes him a moment to notice, but his own hips are thrusting into the ground.

She manages to keep her legs balanced while reaching her hands down to grab his horns. And though he had hoped she would, though he had thought about this, and picked this position specifically for that reason, it throws him.

He pulls back and hisses, feeling himself get a bit more untamed, opening his mouth slightly and letting drool slip down onto her.

She says something in praise, but it’s slurred and unintelligible. He thinks it was something in astonishment at his boldness. And he will be smug about that later when he can focus; he’s too lost in her right now to make sense of it.

It has been a while since he’s done this. A long while. But even when things went no further than this, he was always happy to engage in this activity. There was something so thrilling about having someone supplicate to him for something he could provide. Power of the tongue, and all that.

“Move,” she orders.

He takes his mouth off her and looks up. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m…I’m close.”

He grins, looking back at his current obsession, languidly thrusting his fingers in her. “Aiya, I didn’t know you were hard of hearing,” he accuses her.

She starts to curse him, head glued back to her pillow, and he laughs.

“You told me to tell you, and I did. I want to see how you do it.”

“You fucking-

“Are you going to soak me? Did you get shy about flooding my tongue?”

“Wyll,” she cries out. “I just…wanted to warn you.”

He thrusts harder. He might, unfortunately, finish in his trousers due to this. It’s fine. He has time with her tonight. Time he is going to spend stopping the clock.

“And I’ll heed your warning,” he says, before he sucks her once more. “But I’m ready.”

She exhales, and starts panting.

He discovers that when she’s finishing, at least from this, she goes relatively quiet. It’s just her breath, no bass to it. No true use of her vocal cords. Just her heaving chest, dry throat, trembling legs, and seeping cunt.

The tell-tale sign of her climax is the forceful stream that hits his mouth, rushing over his lips and down his chin. Some of it rushing up to his nose.

This is a prepossessing form of torture. He can’t breathe, and he doesn’t care because he is taken by the rush of her covering his face. The uncontrolled rise of her hips to his mouth is enough to melt his mind, and he stays there, letting her thrust against his face and push out that onus that’s been locked in her walls.

He notices he’s been separated from her because she is pushing him back by the horns. He stops resisting when he hears her whines, knowing she needs a break. But his brain-to-mouth grapevine is still telling him to use his tongue, and he latches onto one of her inner thighs and makes out with her there.

She is coming down, whole body trembling. It’s only when she sobs his name that he is broken from his reverie, lifting up to look at her face. And it is better than what he even imagined. Because she didn’t scream, and she wasn’t exactly silent either.

When she comes, she cries.

The tears flowing down her face are in pleasure, but he still swallows and moves over her, coming up to wipe them.

“Aiya,” he breathes.

“Fuck…you,” she responds, no real threat in her voice at all. Only the horrible realization of what he’s done to her; what he can do to her, when given the chance.

He leans down, letting his lips linger above hers before she demands a kiss, and meets her with tongue. Her taste is on him, in him. And he shares it with her freely.

It’s nothing else, for a bit. Nothing but their lips, tongue, and spit; swapping back and forth while she settles. He is bristling, but he can hold out a bit longer for her.

“Soon,” she says, disconnecting her lips and gazing up at him. “I’m going to shove your cock down my throat and keep you there.”

“Hells,”

“But right now, I need you inside me. I need you to stretch me more.”

He thrusts against her without thinking, letting her soak through the seat of his pants. “Are you sure?” he breathes. “I can let you take a moment.”

She sits up, pushing him further back while rising to perch on her elbows.

“The only thing I want to take is you,” she says confidently. “But I would prefer to be on top. It’s easier for me, that way.”

He nods, kissing her deeply once more before pulling away completely so they can switch their positions.

He adjusts the pillow supporting his head the way he needs it for his horns. Since his pants were already unlaced, he starts removing them without her assistance.

He pulls them down, and sighs in annoyance that he didn’t grab his underwear along with it too. Once his pants are off, he reaches for the top of them, but she stops him.

“Allow me,” she says, on her knees between the spread of his legs.

He moves his hands and lets them fall to his sides, fingers already sporadically curling into the blanket underneath them.

He suddenly feels a slap of bashfulness as her hands are pulling his underwear off, because while everyone has seen these horns, they haven’t seen-

“Fucking hells,” she says.

And he knows it’s a compliment, but his face still gets warm.

“You weren’t joking,” she continues.

And he knows he’s talking about the comment he made about himself the night of the Tiefling party. The ridges and prongs in unmentionable places. He is surprised she remembers.

She pulls the garments the rest of the way, sliding her thighs on either side of his waist while looking down at him.

“How are you going to explain this to the others, hmm?” she asks, lowering herself to grind against his pubis. “How are you going to tell them how I died out here?”

He is so swept by the movement of her hips right above the head of his cock, but he burst out in laughter anyhow.

“You are dramatic,” he says, shaking his head.

“And you,” she combats, sliding down further to nudge herself against him, “are going to kill me.”

He moans, low and long because gods above and below she is drenched. She is wetting his cock with herself and he is now fearful that this will last exactly however long it took for him to realize he found her pretty. Which was no time at all. He realized it as soon as they had dispatched that small troupe of goblins outside the grove; noticed it while she was panting and sweaty and somewhat covered in blood.

And it’s not as though he’s had much alone time lately. With their new and temporary sleeping arrangements, he has less privacy than he had before. The luxury of a bed and four walls around him, but no luxury of a tent, perched a certain distance from others.

He hasn’t been indulging himself that much. But he certainly had, once or twice, slipped his hand underneath his bedroll and thought about her while he pleasured himself.

The contented attitude he had about taking her apart with his mouth has evaporated under the weight of her gaze and the thrust of her hips.

She sits up, lifting her hips up with it, and he still moans because he knows what’s coming.

“Let me know,” she says, grabbing him by the base, stroking her fingers around the ridge there, “if you need to stop.”

“Don’t let me finish inside you,” he responds. And it’s not because he doesn’t want it; it’s because it isn’t smart. And because he just knows once she sinks down, all higher thinking for him will cease.

Her smirk at him then is just fiendish, and perhaps he made a mistake, thinking that he had this force of a person bested.

“Is the Blade of Frontiers feeling beside himself?” she asks, letting her head loll back for a moment while she enjoys the heat of his tip teasing her opening.

He exhales, clenching his fists tighter. “I’ve never faced a threat like you.”

She doesn’t smile. In fact, her face falls. It settles into a gaze so serious and all-encompassing that he has to hold his breath.

When she attempts to make him sink into her, it’s only by a bit, and it’s enough to make him groan openly and loudly.

“Is that so?” she asks lowly. She leans over his torso more, keeping her hand where it is on his cock, and continuing to move herself up and down on his tip.

The wet squelch of her already has him undone. He wants to ask her to not talk while she does this, at least not now. Because it will be over embarrassingly quick.

But he can’t say anything right now. He is trying to even his breathing while feeling the best he has in his life, in a setting like this.

She does this for a few more moments, eyes closed and biting her lip while she concentrates. Despite his attention on her earlier, she isn’t quite opening up how both of them want her to.

Power of the tongue, truly. A maxim that extends to all kinds of settings.

He moans and speaks to her. “Let me in.”

Her jaw drops and her eyes widen, and she presses down onto him harder and lets the tip of him stretch her.

They both groan. The feeling is like coming home after a long, arduous day. It feels like he was supposed to know this all along. It feels like he’s supposed to be here.

She moans and moves her hand, letting both of them support her on his damp chest while she slowly moves back and forth, letting him breach her bit by bit.

When she reaches the first ridge, she squeals. She compliments him and sinks lower, more of her arousal covering his cock.

“Aiya,” he breathes, already feeling dangerously close, and she hasn’t even reached the root of him.

She doesn’t respond, just continues to undulate her hips so that more and more of him can fill her. When she sinks to the root, his lidded eyes are still open enough to see a tear slip out of one of hers.

He reaches a shaky hand up to her face.

“Are you alright?”

She shakes her head no, closing her eyes and letting her neck fall back again. “You’re perfect.”

It’s not exactly an answer, but he understands it well when she starts lifting and sinking herself on his member, slowly and steadily.

He keeps his hand there, despite his arm trembling. And the other takes place on her stomach, pressing there while she moves.

“I love you,” she whispers, eyes still closed. “I fucking love you.”

He should warn her now, he thinks. Go ahead and tell her that she maybe, at best, has a few minutes before he erupts. But he doesn’t; there is something more pressing he has to tell her.

“I love you too,” he responds, feeling the joy of the statement wash over him. “Now, show me.”

She makes him eat those words.

Despite his impending loss, he knows that as long as he gets to have her like this, he’ll never stop challenging her. He wants to continue winding her up with his words as much as he can, making her take it out on his tongue and throbbing cock. He wants this woman to end him, over and over and-

“Aiya,” he says, urgently. “I’m-

She answers by leaning back down, causing his hands to move and plant elsewhere instead. They support themselves on her ass as she continues moving on him.

“It’s okay, Wyll,” she whispers, leaning down to kiss one side of his neck. “Do it.”

“I am,” he groans, gripping harder. “But you need to move.”

She continues laving at his neck, moving up to his ear to entice him. “No.”

He loses it then, lifting his legs up at the knees and beginning to thrust into her instead.

“That’s it,” she encourages softly. “Take it.”

He doesn’t register the sounds leaving him that much. He knows they are open and needy and flowing through a staccato beat. But he keeps moving.

“It’s okay,” she continues, licking over his ear. “We’re okay. Magic has all sorts of uses.”

He growls, thrusting into her harder. Trembling with the implications.

“Yeah?” he asks, eyes closing.

“Yes,” she answers. “Inside, Wyll. Let it out inside me.”

He gasps, thrusting once more before feeling his entire body quake as he finishes inside her. His eyes are closed, yet he’s still dizzy. There’s no one out here but them, yet he’s sure he’s too loud. He should pull out still, but after the third rope, he’s locked to her.

Even as he comes down, he fears he’s too loud. But he will excuse it, this time. He hasn’t finished like that in…ever. Not even his first time, with the one he had known longer than Aiya.

She kisses him for a long time, moaning in annoyance when he slips out of her. But he can feel a drop of the mix of them fall back on his member, and knows it won’t be long before he’s ready to fill her again.

-

“So have you done this a lot, or…” she asks, trailing off to take a sip of her wine instead.

He huffs, caressing a hand over her stomach. “Define a lot?”

She shakes her head. “I don’t know. I’m not sure how to measure this by human lifespan standards. And honestly, it doesn’t need a measurement at all. I suppose what I’m asking is have you done this with more than one person?”

“Yes.”

“And,” she continues, setting her wine goblet back down on the flat stone by her head, “were they all partners of yours?”

He hesitates.

She turns to him then, long hair flowing over her pillow, and stares with something in her eyes. He asked her to get comfortable and take her hair down while he re-arranged the bed set he brought out here so they can rest for a bit.

“I see,” she whispers. “I know about your first one. Nasina, who I would like to meet, by the way.”

His brows show up. “You want to meet her?”

She shrugs. “You are the next Duke of Baldur’s Gate, if you choose. Gortash will cease to exist and your father will step down eventually. I assume all of those who were one your friends will want to come back. Especially your real friends.”

“I feel so stupid,” he begins, “asking you this now. After all this time, but Aiya…how old are you?”

She laughs; cackles. Loud enough to cut the air. “Oh my gods, I thought I had told you already. I’m one-hundred-forty years.”

He lets it sink it for a moment, not able to stop himself from making the very expected joke. “You are old.”

She’s gasping, trying to gather her bearings. “Wyll, I swore I told you.”

He is educated enough to know that is not that far above the age of maturity of Elves. He is unsure about Dragonborns.

“You certainly did not,” he says, bringing his caressing hand up to her face. “But it’s no matter.”

She smiles at him, bare body hidden underneath the sheet. “The last time you did this, when was it?”

“You insist on bringing up the past,” he laughs.

“For a reason.”

He studies her face, only finding intrigue there. He thinks he knows where this is going, but the only way to know is to jump over the edge.

“I was in Plainwater.”

She hums. “Nothing plain about that place. Anyway, go on.”

He swallows, turning to look up at the swaying tree branches above. “They do not use the standard terms of monarchy there, but by all definitions, this person a monarch.”

“I’m already hooked.”

“It was a deluge,” he says, setting the scene. “And it had ruined half their house’s crops, which were the most plentiful in the town. Without those, the support it provided the community was smashed.”

“Ah, so not a monster.”

“No,” he sighs. “Just the forces of nature, but it gave me the opportunity to help their house, and sharpen my diplomacy skills. The town had a meeting regarding their status. Their name was Ainsel, by the way.”

“Go on,” she encouraged.

“Somehow, I was involved in mediation. And somehow, I convinced the prominent townspeople to continue to respect their house as an authority. They were kind, and good. Had I not thought so, I wouldn’t have gone out of my way to defend them.”

He looks at her, and notices her eyes are closed, taking in the story. “I am unsure what I said that turned the tides, no pun intended, but it worked.”

“Congratulations.”

“And Ainsel was so…gentle about suggesting they thank me in a more…intimate way than gold. They still paid me in gold, by the way. But yes. It became physical.”

She opens her eyes then, gold staring back at him.

“Go on.”

“You are terrible,” he says. “What about this is enticing for you?”

“If you don’t want to continue, you don’t have to.”

“I…okay. Well, they insisted on thanking me in the most based way you could think of. And I tried to resist, truly. I didn’t believe doing good was a cause for any compensation like that.”

She turned toward him, supporting herself on her right shoulder. “So, what happened?”

“You want to know the details?” he asked with incredulity in his tone.

“I’ve only been asking.”

“Okay. Well, they cornered me behind their library door and insisted on using their mouth on me.”

“Now we’re getting to it.”

“It was…lovely. I truly was not going around the Coast looking for that kind of entertainment. But that time, I agreed to it.”

“That is so sexy.”

“What about that do you find sexy?” he asks, reaching a hand up to run through her loosened locks.

“I’m a bit too old to deny how gorgeous the image of one pleasing another is” she answers, a serious note in her voice. “You are handsome, and kind, and conscientious. To gift those qualities to another…I don’t know; it’s nice to think of.”

He loves the compliment, even if he has difficulty understanding the appeal of it.

“I gained an appreciation for the art of the tongue, after that.”

“As if you didn’t already have one.”

“Yes, but in an intimate way.”

“Yes, and I just bore witness to that.”

He runs his thumb over her bottom lip. “And what about you? Do you have an admiration for the same?”

“Oh, Wyll,” she answers. “You have no idea. And if you want an idea, I’m glad to show you. Only if you’re ready.”

And he is ready, except he…isn’t.

“Actually,” he says. “I need to…relieve myself first.”

He turns away, expecting her to laugh, but when she doesn’t make a sound, he looks back at her, only finding curiosity in her expression.

“You don’t have to go too far,” she suggests.

He is shocked; speechless.

She sees the look on his face. “Too soon? Another time, perhaps.”

“Please, have mercy,” he says, rolling over to go find a distant bush.

-

The wine is half empty, but it’s a good thing he packed water to keep them hydrated.

He’s on top of her, kissing her again. It is slower this time, lacking the desperation from earlier. But it still builds heat in his core.

He’s going to let her make good on her earlier comment, about what she wanted to do with her mouth. This time, instead of lying on his back, he props himself up against the tree trunk; a couple pillows supporting his back.

She’s lying down between his legs, already reaching for him. He’s already erect for her, but when she pauses her mouth right over his tip and looks up at him, he hardens even further.

He closes his eyes and tilts his head back a bit, wincing at his sensitivity, then moaning at the soft acceptance of her mouth.

Without thinking, he ends up propping up his legs at the knee, reaching his hands down and placing them on her head. He’s not moving her, but he just wants to feel her move.

She translates the action a different way.

She inhales through her nose and moves further down, taking him to the hilt. He groans and asks her to keep going, keep moving. But she doesn’t.

He looks down at her, and sees her looking up at him expectantly. He tests the waters by rolling his hips up first, languidly. She moans around him, and it causes his grip to tighten in her hair.

The next few moments are bliss for him. He’s gently thrusting his hips up, reveling in the soft sounds of him pressing against the back of her throat. She’s focused on being an opening, so she’s not focused on the mess that drools out of her mouth and onto his pelvis.

He pulls her off, keeping one hand buried in her hair while the other fists his cock.

“Will you, shit…Can I?”

She smiles at him, and that’s all the answer that he needs before he is releasing on her waiting tongue, holding her in place so she can take all of it.

He’s not as loud this time, groaning tenderly while he comes down. He welcomes her body coming up to press against his; enjoys the taste of himself in her mouth.

“You’re so handsome,” she whispers, kissing his cheek. “So beautiful.”

He gets her to lay back down and finds his face between her thighs again. She is less sensitive this time, as in she’s not shaking at every movement of his tongue, but she is responsive.

He wants to be on top his time, and he makes sure that’s okay before moving back up her body. He grabs one of her hands and laces their fingers, placing them by her head. His free hand is what he uses to tease himself and her; rubbing his cock over her.

“Get inside me,” she says, moving her hips up.

He presses against her opening, and slips inside, bit by bit. She hasn’t been opposed to the size of him at all, and she seems to adore the features this form has given him. But he is still cautious about moving in and out of her until he feels her open up and accept the rest.

He raises his other hand and links their fingers there too, leaning down to kiss her and thrust lazily into her.

It’s quieter this time. It’s just them, the wind, their sounds of love, and the slide of the sheets against the grass. Neither of them are thinking about anything outside of this moment; not what came before, and not the near future. He’s just a person loving another person in an archaic way.

He moves faster when he hears her gasping; he’s determined to get her to finish around him in the way he didn’t have stamina for earlier. It requires a steady, sure thrusting of his hips, and one of his hands slipping between them.

This thumb is pressed to her nub, and his fingers are splayed against her pelvis and the bottom of her belly. He presses down and she whines.

“Keep going, just like that,” she begs.

He does. The rock of his hips is only difficult to hold because he wants to move harder. But he is barely letting the fronts of his thighs kiss the back of hers. This is less about force and more about aim.

Her eyes are watery again, and he sighs, tells her he loves how she looks when she cries for him like that. When she asks for more, that’s when he thrusts harder, adding more sound to the air.

“Wyll,” she says, voice cracking. “I…

“It’s okay, love,” he says, biting his lip momentarily. “I have you.”

She locks eyes with him, letting the shine of them coupled with her whimpers tell him her end is near. He feels a prick behind his eyes as well, although it’s not from his oncoming climax.

He just loves her, and he loves this moment. He would never forget it for the rest of his life. And he hopes she understands that he meant what he said earlier before they started this physical dance. He wants her forever.

“Aiya,” he breathes, wavering. “I love you.”

She whines, whole body tensing. “I love you too, Wyll….Wyll, can I-

“Yes, love.”

Her face scrunches, and her high pitched keen falls to a low, broken moan as she releases around him. He thinks he might enjoy this feeling more than tasting her while she does this. He couldn’t pull out if he wanted to.

The fitful pulse of her orgasm does bring him closer than he thought he was. When she loosens, when her shaking stops, he lets force overtake aim, just for a few more thrusts, before pulling out and releasing her on stomach.

They are panting, covered in sweat, and so, so in love.

-

“Is there something you really enjoy doing in bed that we haven’t done yet?”

She hums, content in her position of lying on his bare chest. “Quite a few things, actually. But I did not assume we were completing the entire itinerary tonight.”

He smiles and keeps his eyes closed, running a hand over her back. “To narrow it down, then. Is there a position you prefer that we haven’t already done?”

“You’re asking me what my favorite position is.”

“Well, yes.”

She sits up, gazing at his relaxed expression. He cracks his eyes open slowly when he feels her fingertip trailing over his nose.

“We haven’t done it, yet,” she answers. “I’m tempted to let you guess.”

And Wyll knows there are so many angles they can do this from. So many ways they just can’t get done before the sun splits the horizon.

So he’d rather her just tell him, or show him, what angle truly ignites her so he can learn it, thoroughly.

He moves her searching fingertips, and kisses them.

They make out for a bit, more weight in their kisses this time. She seems primed and ready to go with the knowledge that he will be taking her in the way she favors.

She moves, asks him to move, and takes the space where he was, with her back toward him.

“Is that so?” he groans, one of his hands already wrapped around himself and stroking weakly. She is on her hands and knees, and she answers him.

“No,” she says, her tone leading elsewhere. Then, her body sinks onto the ground, front pressed against sheets. “This is so.”

He feels sweat prick the back of his neck. He may not be able to see her face, but he will still be close to her this way.

He leans over her, letting his length thrust between her cheeks and kissing the back of her neck when she sighs.

“Are you ready?” he asks. He prays she is.

“Fuck me,” she answers, pushing her hips up.

The angle allows him to slowly thrust into her, moving in and out until he gets the signal to start pounding her back to the ground.

This round feels a bit more primal. She’s loud and encouraging, and he’s propped up on his hands while dripping sweat onto her back.

His own sounds are high pitched and breathy. He does what she asks, and moves against her harder, disturbing the air around them.

It’s still the dead of night, but he has a brief wonder of what would happen if someone walked by. They are secluded, he made sure of that. But what if…what if-

He’s sure her cries would attract any potential passerby. They would clearly know what was happening just by the sound of it, but would they follow her siren call?

She makes him think of things that he hadn’t seriously considered, previously. He doesn’t want anyone else to see her like this, per se. But he doesn’t not want them to see him pleasing her like this.

It’s strange, yet the unfamiliarity of it entices him to fuck her harder, loving the whip-crack of her sounds.

“This is it?” he asks. And obviously. Obviously. She put them in this position. But questioning her seems to turn her on, in this environment. She mewls an affirmative, and turns her head to kiss one of his inner arms, right by this wrist.

“Together this time,” she whispers against his skin, resuming her peppering affections.

The soft press of her lips against his arm while he is doing nothing short of knocking her into her next orgasm makes him growl. And she doesn’t seem to want to raise her hips, so he cant really get a hand underneath her. But the wet sounds from between her legs makes him wonder if she’s already as close as he is. He can’t really tell this time around, because she’s been pulsing nonstop.

He learns down, licking one of her ear tips. “Are you close?”

She groans. “Yes. Yes, Wyll. Can you…just a little bit more?”

“As long as you need,” he lies. He doesn’t know why he says it, when everything about him right now is telling of his approaching climax. But something about the statement seems to kick her into high gear, and she nearly yells.

“Oh. I’m…oh. Wyll, love. Wyll!”

“Now?” he asks, burying his face in the side of her neck.

“Yes,” she hisses.

“Yeah?”

“Yes!”

“Inside you?”

“Please.”

“Deep?”

“Wyll-

“Say it.”

She’s already crying, and nearly out of breath. “Come inside me, please. Please, love. You feel so good; I want it.”

“Yeah? I make you feel good?”

She can’t answer him anymore. Any remaining breath she has is expended on her panting and moaning. And that’s answer enough for him.

It’s not quite synchronous. She is wailing, and she was already clenching, so the staple sign of it is the forceful rush flowing out of her and soaking him.

“Holy-

He can’t finish that statement. He grunts hard, keeping his hips locked to hers, filling her over and over. There’s nothing holy happening here, not in a pure way. Perhaps in a divine way.

 Exhaustion finally seeps in. He slides out of her to flop on his back, cringing when his horns remind him they are there. But he reaches for her and pulls her in, letting her pant into his neck.

“I love you,” she whispers. “I love you so much. I-

He grabs the back of her neck and gently moves her away so he can lean up and kiss her. “I love you, too. My time-stopper.”

-

The sun is barely up by the time they return to the Elfsong. They are quiet as they enter, hoping no one was already awake.

He swats her ass right as they get to the hall door, making her gasp and laugh before to leans back to kiss him over her shoulder.

She opens the door as quietly as she can, steps silent as they creep in. No sunlight has breached the room yet, but they do both stare at the companion sitting by the unlit fireplace.

Jaheira is sitting in a chair, book in hand. Yenna and Grub are a few feet away from her, still asleep.

She gives them a knowing look, smirking and whispering into the air. “Really, you two? All night?”

Aiya shakes her head and tries not to laugh. Wyll smiles and places a finger over his lips, warning her not to wake the others.

It is very much back to business once the sun is present and everyone is awake, but Karlach cannot read a room, and asks what time they got back in last night.

“Last night?” Astarion responds. “They crept in with the sunrays this morning.”

A few of their companions praise them for finally breaking the mold. Aiya is so clearly embarrassed, and Wyll pities her. But they are not too cruel, and he doesn’t care too much.

He loves her. And he wants everyone to know it.

[sensei-venus]

I have to watch Abbott Elementary but I've seen clips and yes 😂 I just know Demetri would teach science and students would make him question his life choices with the shit they do in labs (i say that and it reminds me of the time I was in high school and a guy went around poking girls in the ass with an exacto knife 😮‍💨)

But not the point. I just know the students ship him and the librarian so hard. When they see him eating lunch with her, they talk about them and gossip about how cute they are!

But imagine after a year of them dating, Reader winds up pregnant (from demetris fat monster cock ofc lol) and when the students return to school, she's already showing and they're freaking the fuck out because wtf already? Really?

- gemini sensei

I imagine they start dating in the middle of the school year, most of the kids are already talking about it in the halls. A few kids spy on them in the faculty lounge eating during lunch. They see the two of them laughing together over lunch. They notice how close they are, Demetri scooting as close as he can to her.

All the kids start pulling their bets.

It’s only confirmed when they catch him kissing her hand all romantic like one day after school in the abandoned library. Two lone students trying to return some books before they get kicked out of the building for the day. Of course, Demetri and Reader never see them peaking through the library doors, they run off as soon as they see the two getting all kissy and gross.

Half the school bets are called, kids fist bumping and whooping over the easy money after the news about what was seen in the library.

But that doesn’t stop the kids from still tracking the progress between the two adults. Most of the girls are talking about “when the wedding will happen.” And the guys are joking about how nerd like Demetri’s proposal will be. It’s a sweet little romantic drama going on in the school and the kids are loving it.

Sadly at some point summer comes and school is out. The kids believe that it will just be the end of it until the next school year starts.

When the next school year starts everyone, like everyone is surprised.

Because Ms,Readers sweaters are no longer baggy and her blouses are tight and so are her skirts.

They are tight enough to show off her now rounding out belly, no longer pudge but a round belly underneath the tight material.

The kids see the way she favors her belly now. The way she’s touching it more every now and then, resting her hand on the new bump.

And when they see the new engagement rings on both adults, they know it. Most of the students just can't believe it, not that they didn't awkwardly think about their two favorite school adults having sex at some point after everything. Their just surprised that it happened so fast. They didn’t think their nerdy rambling teacher would get so far so quick with they nice librarian. And the fact he got her pregnant so quick?

Minds blown.

(Btw @gemini-sensei , I’m going to NEED some smut at some point with Teacher!Monster Cock!Demetri and Pregnant!Librarian!Reader, like I’m going to need it to survive this new addiction.👀👁👁😍)

[randomreadingtimewithtsuki]

Hi

I thought you were a new writer, but it turns out I've read your work before, lol. My favorite are hugs with Jean Jacques (Jean Jacques, my bun. He's such an underrated character... I showed this work to my mother because she also likes Jean Jacques. She was delighted) and a marriage proposal from Noe

They are so wonderfully written and fill my heart with warmth. Thank you very much! Can I ask for more favors for Noe?

Oh, it's hard for me to express my thoughts in English, but I'll try to make it understandable... The female reader cannot fall asleep because of thunderstorms and cold. She comes to Noe at night to fall asleep in warmth and comfort. I think Noe is very warm, and it can be used as a pillow. He also has a great voice in anime. It seems to me to hear him say something while the reader is falling asleep is very comforting

I probably wrote too much. Ignore this if you are uncomfortable writing this. Have a good day! Don't forget to take care of yourself 💕✨

Hello!

That 's so sweet! I am glad you both enjoy my writting!

It makes me very very happy to hear such kind words! Thank you!

I hope you also like this next piece!

Let me know what you think!

Oh and your English was just fine. To be honest english is not my first language either, so no worries! You didn't write too much at all! You are always welcome to come chat whenever you'd like!

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You had tucked yourself for the night. The sky was clear, it had a cold wind, but nothing that a warm blanket couldn't fix.

After an hour you had gone to bed the wind had gotten stronger, so you decided to check outside. The sky had dark clouds approaching - clear sign of a storm.

You went back to bed hoping the storm would just pass by, so you covered your head with a blanket and tried to sleep.

The storm got worse and with it the thunder came around. They sounded closer and closer, you just couldn't take jumping at every lighting anymore.

So you decided to pay a visit to your neighbor - Noé. You knocked on the door while being rolled up in a blanket like a burrito.

Noé was terribly sleepy, so it seemed like he took forever to open the door. You cursed under your breath for having such a laid back friend.

When he opened the door, you saw a white mess of a bed hair and very very tired voiced:

Noé: Y/N? What's wrong?

You shy away in your blankets:

Y/N: I- I, it's just -

Before you could conclude a loud thunder fell near the place you both were staying.

You cowered and hugged Noé. Surprisingly he caught on that you were scared of the noises.

So he led you inside the room, you were holding the hem of his shirt as you walked.

He sat you on the bed and sat next to you:

Noé: Y/N, I didn't know you were afraid of storms.

YN: I am not, is just … too loud.

You could feel his gaze on you. Noé looking at the window from his spot. He decided to get up and close the curtains.

You were thankful for this little act. Noé came back to sit next to you, but this time he rubbed circles on your back.

You peeked through the blankets, he was yawning. It was adorable how thoughtful he was despite being tired.

Before you could say something, another thunder fell close by and that made you turn into a little ball of anxiety:

Noé: Y/N? Are you ok?

Y/N: Y-yes.

Noé: if you are that scared…. Then! We could do a fort!

Y/N: A…. fort?

Noé: Blanket fort!

He was so close to you, eyes sparkling with excitement. You blushed furiously and before you could even blink he got up and started building the fort.

While he was at it Murr came to you. The cat meowed at you and proceeded to lay on your lap effectively making you forget about the next thunder.

When Noé was done with the fort you could see how neatly the blankets fell from the chairs. He used the couch's pillows to do the floor of the fort.

He invited you in, with just shiny eyes that you couldn't hold back a giggle.

Noé tilted his head not quite understanding why you were laughing, but he soon smiled. Hey, at least you weren't scared anymore right?

You crawled into the fort, it was more spacious than it looked like. After you entered Noé and Murr. It was comfortable and bigger than expected but still small for two people and a cat:

Y/N: Noé? This is really cute and all but…

Noé: It is nice isn't it?

Y/N: It is, but.. it's kind of cramp-

Another thunder fell outside making you jump and curl into Noé. He just hugged you and patted your head.

As your heart calmed down you realized Noé was moving.

Soon you realized he placed you in-between his legs, making it more comfortable for the two of you:

Noé: Is this better Y/N? This way you won't knock down the fort and the thunder won't be so loud!

He said that so cheerfully. With such a sweet voice that once again, you felt your face heat up. You had no strength to argue or even agree with him - he was so so cute that you just let your head fall on his chest, leaning his forehead on him.

He patted your head and you felt him sigh. At this moment you felt something fluffy walk near you - you turned your head to see Murr laying near your legs.

You sighed this time and buried your face on Noé. He didn't seem to mind at all.

Soon enough you both were fast asleep. Tonight was a dreamless, warm night. The thunder felt so far away, it no longer scared you.

you silently wished you could have more nights like this one.

Warm and safe. Nothing to worry about and just be silly, of course, as a bonus you had Murr and his fluffy fur around your skin too.

You woke woke with bangs on the door and a familiar voice - an angry one:

?? : Noé! Get up! It's morning you stupid blood sucker!

Oh Vanitas voice. Noé? It was then you realized you were in his room. You got up quickly to find Noé snoring and Murr looking very annoyed at you both.

You silently panicked. Vanitas was yelling about taking the door down and before he could do that, you quickly left the room through the window, but you left your blanket behind.

By the time you heard the door being swung open, you had just entered your room. You felt bad about leaving Noé with an angry Vanitas, but you could not bear to be seen like that by Vanitas.

You got changed quickly and walked away from your room, all you could hear was Vanitas screaming something about a childish thing to do.

When you met them both, you expected Noé to be mad at you, but instead he smiled brightly and took both of your hands on his:

Noé: Y/N! I am so glad you are OK!

You blushed a bit and Vanitas looked very very confused. But he knew better than to ask what he was talking about.

You giggle and, in a whisper, you apologized to him for leaving:

Noé: It's ok! I figured it would be too hot eventually!

Y/N: That's not… sure, I will go with that.

He smiled so brightly at you. But this moment was striking down by a pissed Vanitas that started yelling and dragging the two of you down the street.

----------------------------------------------

Thank you for reading!

I hope this is of your liking !

[jammie3132]

Fandom: Glee Pairing: Blaine Anderson & Sebastian Smythe Summary: How Sebastian and Blaine met their daughter 10 Days of Seblaine 2023 Day 5: Parent AU Part 1 of Poppy's Little Angel Dedicated to @seblaineaddict

Back during the Great Warbler-New Directions Show Choir Feud of 2011-2012, if you asked Sebastian Smythe if he hated Kurt Hummel, you’d never receive a straight answer. He’d say something about how dogs within a 10-mile radius of Hummel singing need noise cancelling earphones or it was animal cruelty.

Or, how Hummel constantly looked constipated.

Or, Hummel should learn to count to 8 so maybe, just maybe, he could pretend to know how to dance.

However, he’d never say he hated Kurt Hummel because he didn’t. The boy fascinated him. What the hell kind of voodoo fairy magic did the guy possess to get someone as amazing as Blaine Anderson fall for him? It was impossible to understand…much like Hummel’s wardrobe choices.

Then in 2013 Sebastian Smythe watched Blaine Anderson propose to Kurt Hummel. That’s when he began to hate Kurt Hummel.

But today, almost a decade later, Sebastian Anderson-Smythe hated Kurt Hummel more than he had ever hated anything, including his father when he threatened to disown him for dropping out of Columbia. The SOB (Hummel, not his father…this time) had Blaine in court with yet another frivolous attempt to get money…aka, make their lives miserable because they had the audacity to get married when Blaine was his soulmate.

Yet he, Blaine’s husband and true soulmate, wasn’t allowed to be in court to support him. So, what if the first time he saw the delusional asshole after reconnecting with Blaine, Blaine and Sam basically had to tackle him so he didn’t punch him and get arrested? Although, watching Brittany smack and then verbally humiliate Hummel in front of a nightclub full of onlookers with cellphones was almost as satisfying as if he’d done it himself.

Last he checked Beautiful Blonde tells off friend’s jealous Ex had almost 2 million views.

Sebastian walked to their bookcase and picked up their wedding photo. It was hard to believe it had only been 5 weeks. As he put it back on the shelf, for the first time he realized what Blaine else put on the shelf. The items told the story of how they got to this point.

Their wedding photo was front and center. Next to it was their Tonys for West Side Story along with a photo of the two of them looking dapper in their tuxedos.

It was unusual for an actor in revival to win Lead Actor in a Musical, but he’d known for years Blaine was the perfect Tony. There was never a doubt in anyone’s mind he would win.

His win was the polar opposite. An actor from a revival winning Featured Actor? You didn’t win unless you were a Hollywood actor slumming on Broadway. At least that’s what one of the guys he beat was screaming at his agent during the afterparty. Let’s just say those in the theater community didn’t take the term slumming well.

On the other side of the wedding photo were two others. One was from the first time they met. They looked so young…him in his Dalton uniform, Blaine in the infamous grey striped cardigan. Thad gave it to them as a wedding gift. He said he knew from that moment they’d wind up married someday.

The other photo was his favorite (except the wedding photo, of course). It was a picture from the first day for the entire cast. While they were mingling and introducing themselves, the director came to him and asked him to come with him. He wanted his Tony and Riff to begin working on their dynamic.

He hadn’t taken three steps when he heard You’ve got to be shitting me! followed by Blaine running across the stage, jumping into his arms and knocking them both to the ground.

The actual photo was the two of them sitting on the floor laughing. At some point they held it together long enough to tell the rest of the cast and crew they’d known each other back in Ohio. Also, that while Blaine was friendly (like a puppy), he wouldn’t be tackling anyone else…at least until he knew them better.

Instead of getting to know each other, the director sent them off to get reacquainted. There was a lot to talk about but he thought it best to get through the hard stuff first.

Blaine Anderson? Not Anderson-Hummel or worse, Hummel-Anderson?

Nope, Kurt always said hyphenating our names wouldn’t work for Broadway marquees.

I’ve got to ask. How freaked out is your hubby going to be about me being Riff to your Tony?

Sebastian, the universe has a wacky sense of timing but sometimes you have to trust everything will work out how it’s supposed to.

I don’t understand.

(Blaine pulls his phone out of his pocket and smiles) Today the universe decided to bring you back into my life at the exact same time

I had Kurt served with divorce papers.

No shit?

Oh, it gets better. Since Kurt was throwing one of his temper tantrums and wouldn’t speak to me unless I gave up Tony, which I obviously didn’t, my attorney suggested I wait 30 days to file so I could serve him with legal separation papers at the same time.

Did it work?

The text I received was from my attorney saying mission accomplished. That means Sam, Santana and Brittany are taking me out tonight to celebrate. Want to come?

As a date?

No, but not as a fuck you to Kurt either. We both know I did a shitty job hiding my attraction to you back in high school.

We both did, but it’s nice to hear you admit it.

Well, we’re about to spend A LOT of time together. If things work out in ways I hope they might, I don’t want you to believe you were a rebound or worse, I was using you to get back at Kurt.

Blaine

Yes, Sebastian

I would love to go out and celebrate with you and your friends tonight. But could you do me a favor?

What?

Warn Santana so I don’t get a drink thrown in my face.

I can try but she’s been plotting her revenge against you for years.

When he heard the key in the lock, Sebastian quickly straightened the shelf then hustled to the couch to make it seem like he hadn’t been waiting. Seeing the man he loves walk into the apartment looking completely exhausted but wearing a smile, allowed him to (somewhat) relax. “Everything went ok?”

Blaine took off his blazer and tie as he sat beside him. “As ok as things could go when dealing with Kurt. The judge threw out his claim for half my stake in the musical as well as his renewed claim for spousal support.”

“So, in other words, a colossal waste of time?”

“Yup. However, he will think twice before filing for another obvious cash grab, the judge’s words. Kurt was ordered to pay all my attorney’s fees.”

“About fucking time! Damn it B, you’ve been divorced from his sorry ass for a year, and you were legally separated from his gay face for 8 months prior to that!”

“Bas…”

“We’ve been married 5 weeks, 5 fucking weeks! We lost half our honeymoon because you had to come back for this bullshit!!”

Blaine kissed his love then went to their bedroom. Less than 15 minutes later he was back wearing lounge pants and an NYU t-shirt, while carrying two beers. “Feel better now that you got that off your chest?” he asked as he rejoined his husband.

“No…maybe a little. I, I just can’t stand the thought of you alone with that asshole, and I’m assuming Berry.”

“Don't pull the alone card. You know Santana was with me. Brittany would’ve come too, but you know, the restraining order.”

Nothing came from Brittany and Hummel's viral moment. It was months later when things went off the deep end.

Sebastian, Brittany, Sam and Santana all took the day off for Blaine's divorce hearing. They were there for support, but ready to be rebuttal witnesses if necessary. When Kurt took the stand, for reasons unknown to this day, he was stupid enough to go on a verbal diatribe on how he backed into a corner and forced into getting married in a tacky barn, in a tacky suit, with tacky guests he never would’ve invited. He wouldn't stop with the tacky-tacky-tacky…bitch-bitch-bitch…until Brittany ran to the witness box went all MMA before the bailiff could pull her off. Kurt refused to press charges but was awarded a restraining order.

“Did Santana have to take the stand?”

“No, but Benj made it back from LA in time to testify.”

“How did that happen?”

“One of the investors asked where I was and Benj told them in court because Kurt was going after half my stake. Long story short…meeting went from three days to one but the by time he and Justin made it to the airport it was past midnight here.”

“Is that why he didn’t call?”

“Pretty much. I would have won without him, but since Benj was part of Machiavelli the Musical from the beginning he could refute all Kurt's claims he contributed to songs I wrote. You should have seen Kurt's face when my attorney asked him to sing one of his contributions. He…” Blaine ended his explanation when Sebastian’s phone rang (and he ignored it) for the fourth time during their short conversation.

“Aren’t you going to get that? Someone seems awfully determined to speak with you.”

“It’s my Aunt Marie. As much as I love my cousin, I couldn’t deal with any of Penny’s drama. Today my focus was you and what was happening in court…which I wasn’t allowed to attend.”

Blaine rolled his eyes before pulling Sebastian down until his head was in his lap. In the 18 months they’d officially been together (he was legally separated!), he’d learned running his fingers through his (now) husband’s hair was the best trick to calm him down.

Their sex life was anything but calm.

“We already covered this…at nauseam. The reason you were asked not to attend is because you, my big…strong…incredibly sexy husband, cannot control your disdain for my former husband. Your protective nature is one of the many, many reasons I love you.”

“But…”

“A huge portion of our strategy was to demonstrate how irrational Kurt truly is. My attorney was able to get him to throw a tantrum on several occasions. He was even able to get Rachel to corroborate several points of Santana’s testimony on threat of perjury.”

“But…”

“Bas, my love, my day in court with Kurt went better than expected with him having to pay my attorney fees. The judge also laid into him on how a finalized divorce, unless it involves children or fraud, means final…closed…the end. Move on!” Sebastian’s phone rang again, but this time Blaine could reach it. “Talk to her. While you’re doing that, I’ll call for pizza. I’m starving.”

Blaine went to the kitchen to call their favorite pizzeria and then Sam to answer any questions he might have about what happened in court. He assumed Santana had already called him with her version (he was right). It was almost 45 minutes later until he rejoined Sebastian on the couch with their freshly delivered dinner. He was still on his phone and speaking in French, but not with his Aunt Marie.

“Grandmother, this is a lot to ask…But…But…Yes, Ma’am…Yes, Ma’am…No, Ma’am…I’ll talk to Blaine…Yes, immediately…I promise…Yes, I’ll call Aunt Marie…Grandmother, Blaine is here. I’ll call back soon. Bye.” Sebastian ended the call and asked “How much of that did you understand?”

“You really didn't say much. What I don’t understand is why you were talking with your grandmother.”

“Aunt Marie she thought Grandmother was the best person to tell me what’s going on.” Blaine reached for his hand to give him an anchor. “Whatever it is, I’m right here.”

Sebastian kissed him, hard, and then put their foreheads together. “I love you so much. I love the life we’re building so much. I…”

“Bas, you’re beginning to scare me.”

“Sorry, it’s…Penny had her baby this morning. She’s decided to put her up for adoption. Since this wasn’t her original plan, she hadn’t vetted any potential parents and she doesn’t want to hand over the baby to strangers. B, Penny wants us to adopt her.”

“The baby is a little girl?”

Sebastian pulled back and stared into Blaine’s eyes. He didn’t look confused...or crazy. “Yes, but you heard the part of how Penny wants us, you and me, to adopt her…right?”

“It’s not up to us.”

Huh? “Then who the hell is it up to?”

“The baby.” Blaine grabbed a piece of pizza before getting off the couch. “You start packing while I call Benj and Justin to tell them I’m going to Paris for a while. I’ll book plane tickets for first thing in the morning but could you pull our passports out so we don’t forget them? And call your Aunt Marie or Grandma to tell them we’re coming, but don’t want to see anyone until we’re settled. I’ll arrange…”

His husband kept rambling but Sebastian had stopped listening at The baby. “What the hell do you mean adopting a baby is not up to us, it’s up to the baby?! She’s not even a day old! Don’t you think this is something we should discuss?”

“That’s what the long-ass flight to Paris is for. And trust me on this…in the end, the decision of whether or not we’re about to become Daddies is up to that little girl.”

“Papas.” Sebastian’s response stopped both of them in their tracks. For the first time he didn’t sound like he was in freak-out mode. “She’s French. We’d be her Papas.”

“You’re right but let’s go ahead and put it on a list of things to discuss on the plane.”

Blaine turned to leave (again) but Sebastian stopped him (again). “You don’t think this is crazy? We’ve only been married 5 weeks!”

“Oh, I think this is completely insane, but what did I tell you the day we reconnected at West Side Story?”

Sebastian immediately knew what he meant. “The universe has a wacky sense of timing but sometimes you have to trust everything will work out how it’s supposed to.”

“Last time, the universe brought me you on the day I served Kurt with divorce papers. And I promise, I’m keeping an open mind on all this, but after what I went through in court today…”

“Maybe the universe decided to get a little more wacky to make up for your ex being delusional.”

Blaine took a bite of his pizza and then walked out of the room before Sebastian could interrupt him yet again. It was his turn to be overwhelmed.

Why the hell did he say It’s up to the baby to decide? He was barely into the process of developing Machiavelli the Musical into a full-blown Broadway production and for some unknown reason had agreed to star as Machiavelli. This was going to take a massive amount of his time for the foreseeable future. Sebastian was fully onboard but…

A baby?

Yes, his partners were ubertalented and more than capable of holding things down if he was in Paris for longer than he anticipated but…

A baby?

He took a few deep breaths, devoured his pizza, opened another beer and got to work on what needed to be done. As much they were still wears his heart on his sleeve Blaine Anderson and overly self-confident Sebastian Smythe, this time Blaine Anderson-Smythe had to be the levelheaded one.

A little over 36 hours later the potential fathers were in a private waiting room at the hospital. They had met the head of Child Services and the attorney Blaine’s father arranged for them. There was only one more person left to meet.

Blaine was sitting on a small loveseat while Sebastian was pacing the room, little pink blanket in hand.

They’d agreed not to get ahead of themselves by running out to a store and buy a bunch of baby stuff to take with them. When Blaine got back from meeting his partners, he found out he agreed.

Sebastian called Brittany and they bought out the baby girl section at Macy’s. After an hour of But Blaaaaaaine, he agreed to bringing two outfits and the little pink blanket but…

“I thought we agreed to leave the blanket in your suitcase for the time being?”

“Hospitals are so cold. What if she’s cold?”

Blaine sighed then stood and wrapped his arms around his husband. The pacing was getting annoying. “Bas…”

“B…”

They both froze then turned to face the door as the wails of a distraught baby filled the room. “Mr. and Mr. Anderson-Smythe, I’m Margot from Child Services. You spoke earlier with my supervisor. This is the child you’ve come all this way to meet. I’m sorry but the nurses report she’s been like this for as long as she’s been with them. The doctors insist she is perfectly healthy…”

Blaine let go of Sebastian and pushed him toward the transit crib. “Maybe she’s cold.”

He’d been holding it together for so long, it took Blaine everything within him not to burst with happiness as the man he loved wrapped the tiny girl in the little pink blanket then instinctively cradled her in his arms. “Are you cold, Angel? I brought you this blanket from NYC. My friend Brittany went to the store with me to find it. I’m glad she did because I wouldn’t have known to wash it first. Or that they make special detergents for babies. Or…”

“Bas” Sebastian reluctantly looked up to see Blaine holding his phone. After he took a picture, he asked “Do you realize she stopped crying the moment you wrapped her in the blanket?”

“She did?”

“The adoption lady was so shocked she left to talk to the nurses. We’ll probably see one of them soon with a bottle. Let’s go sit down. I’m kind of amazed you’re still standing.”

It was only a few moments after they were settled that the expected nurse and bottle appeared. She began a tutorial but, once again, Sebastian was a natural. “I take it you’ve done this before?”

“Never. She was just hungry. Were you hungry, Angel?”

“Alright, but when she’s finished…”

Sebastian handed the bottle to Blaine and began to gently rub the baby’s back, quickly earning him the desired results. “Are you ready for the rest of your bottle, Angel?”

Blaine gave the nurse a wink and promised if they needed anything they would use the call button. It wasn’t long before the bottle was discarded and the three of them were cuddled together on the love seat.

“I think she likes us B.”

“I think she likes you.”

It was only then Sebastian realized he hadn’t given Blaine a chance to hold the baby. “I’m sorry…I didn’t realize. Here you go, Angel. There’s someone else who really wants to meet you.”

They both quietly giggled after Blaine let out a sigh of relief. He’d been worried the once cranky baby wouldn’t take to him in the same way she did with Sebastian and start crying again. “Hello, little one. My name is Blaine.”

“But you can call him Daddy.”

Blaine kissed the baby’s forehead, then his husband. “Daddy? Not Papa?”

“If she calls us the same thing it would get confusing.” Sebastian leaned over and returned Blaine’s kiss. “You were right. She had to be the one to decide if she wanted to be our daughter. The fact she’s sleeping so peacefully must mean she knows she’s safe.”

“Safe?” Blaine questioned the wording because it wasn’t the one he expected.

“I thought you might get freaked out if I said love so soon.”

“Bas, new mothers talk about the overwhelming feeling of love they feel when they see their baby for the first time. I’m sure it’s natural for fathers too.”

Sebastian didn’t ask, just lifted the baby back into his arms. “Are you sure? Because I don’t know if I could let her go…”

Blaine answered him by beginning to sing to the baby.

One look at you My whole life falls in line I prayed for you Before I called you mine

Oh, I can't believe it's true sometimes Oh, I can't believe it's true

I get to love you It's the best thing that I'll ever do I get to love you It's a promise I'm making to you

Whatever may come, your heart I will choose Forever I'm yours, my forever is you

I get to love you I get to love you

By the time he finished, Sebastian was a blubbering mess. “That’s the song you wrote me for our wedding.”

“I remember. It was only 5 weeks ago” Blaine jokingly replied. “But seriously, are we really going to do this?” He held up his hand to stop an immediate response. “Getting the musical up and running on its own will be time consuming but I also agreed to play Mach for the first year. I mean, hopefully it’s a big enough hit we get to worry about my handing over the role. What I’m trying to say is, we agreed, if we do this, we don’t want her raised in daycare. That means for the next 18 months to 2 years, if not longer, you will be her primary parent…some days more like a single parent. Are you ready for that?”

“With the exception of you, I have never wanted anything more.” Sebastian looked down at the baby and asked “Angel, are you ready to go back to NYC and have fun with your Poppy while your brilliant Daddy works to win some more Tonys?”

He lifted the baby’s arm and began to lightly shake it while saying in a high-pitched voice “Yes, Poppy. As soon as the doctors say I can fly I want to go to NYC and have lots of fun with you and Auntie Tana and Auntie Britt and Uncle Sammy. Daddy will sing me songs and I will always know how much he loves me. And when Daddy’s new musical wins lots and lots of Tonys, everyone will cheer his talent and proclaim him to be the most talented Daddy in the whole wide world.”

It was Blaine’s turn to cry. “Then there is something the three of us better do soon so we can share our news.”

“What?”

“We have to help her choose her name.”

From Blaine: *attached photo* Sebastian and I are pleased to announce Miss Angelica Penelope Anderson-Smythe chose us to be her Poppy and Daddy. Of course, we emphatically agreed.

From Sebastian: *attached photo* Poppy’s Little Angel

NOTES:

The Prince, Niccolò Machiavelli 1513. Original title: De Principatibus (Of Principalities). I see this parody along the lines of A Very Potter Musical.

I Get to Love You: Bronleewee, Matthew; Eckford, Margaret 2016

It might seem like there is a bunch of unnecessary backstory (especially the Kurt/court stuff), but it pays off in the final entry.

[crazy56u]

Guess who has two thumbs and only barely got out of bed in time to do this?

"Previously on Quantum Leap: Remember that relationship bullshit?"

And Ben winds up in Yellow Filter Egypt.

And Ben does the smart thing and immediately finds a wallet.

"You see that pyramid? That's how you know we filmed on location."

How much do you want to bet they didn't cut anything, and Raymond Lee actually did walk until the sun started going down?

"1961. You want an actual date. Fuck you."

There's a different world where that man slightly raising his newspaper was supposed to mean he wanted Ben to fuck off.

"When are we meeting?" "1PM" ...yeah, you're kinda late, there...

Ben, you've technically been a spy at least three times by now (fourth if you count undercover cops).

And cut to the life Ben should be living, just to tighten the screws.

And of course Tommy's about to propose. How much do you wanna bet that's getting flushed too?

Ian, you know damn well what she means by "a ring", don't be coy.

"You've never leapt out of the country before. It took Sam four seasons to get to Egypt."

Addison, not for nothing, but leaping is technically the same as espionage, given how you described it.

Yes, keep loudly talking to ghosts in the middle of the trailing mission, that never ends poorly.

["That's right, you sit there for a minute, and you think about how you fucked up, son."]

You got bluffed by a Zippo, Ben, you are bad at this.

Yeah, I'm willing to bet we ain't leaving Egypt this leap, ma'am...

"The traitor from your embassy." ...not to get conspiracy theory-y, but given how Ben's waitress friend returns this episode...

"Nomad's a myth." Confirmed. [Inside joke.]

I swear to God, I keep thinking this guy is played by Christian Slater, even though he isn't.

Sir, that was a shitty-ass fake sneeze, you better hope no one actually noticed that.

"Ben, you're gonna get fucking killed if you fuck up today. Pep talk over."

Annnnnnnd der she is! Not having aged a day since 1947!

[Seriously, I'm still on the "Hannah is a secret leaper" camp, this is the third episode where she got involved on a leap where Ben was some form of government agent doing some form of government agent shit, there's a connection here...]

[If there's nazis in Egypt this time, I swear to God...]

"I waited a long time to see you." ...it's been six years, though. Last time, it took you 8.

"How do you feel?" "Alive. Waiting for renewal."

Ben, I'm willing to bet Hannah is the reason you're here, and not to get conspiracy theory-y, I think we both know what I mean by that...

"...Hannah, my hologram-ex just indirectly gave us the okay to pretend to be married this leap, you in?"

"Darling, are you enjoying our honeymoon, which we are both on?" "Yes, we are definitely married and on our Egypt honeymoon, this is natural conversation."

Well, Ben, maybe you can slip in the backdoor and undo your fuckup...

Ben continues to suck at Metal Gear Solid, so in comes Suddenly Southern Hannah.

I am actually fucking impressed that this gong show worked.

"Okay, kid, you scored." That terminology existed in 1961?

Hannah, there's 34 minutes left, unless this is a multi-leap episode, you ain't done.

"I told you to photograph the meeting. You sent in a Southern woman, and slipped me a recorder. How did you fuck this up?"

...well, ma'am, to be fair, Ben kinda sucks at this spy shit...

I love how Addison left after Hannah's sales pitch.

Oh, that's because Addison's heart broke, I don't wanna laugh, but dear God, this makes me want to so bad...

Imagine if they decided to hard cut from Ben and Hannah kissing to Addison sobbing in the break room, dear God, this plot twist is so damn funny, I'm trying to not be like this, but dear God...

"No, Ben, you are the nomad." And then, Ben was a zombie- wait.

And cut to Addison getting drunk in Magic's office.

"Be true to your present, Addison." It will be doubly funny if it turns out my theory about them undoing the time skip is still in the cards...

...why does this double-break up feel like Addison telling Ben she quits?

"Like I said, she's a pro." "She's gonna make it." Annnnnnnd three... ...two... ...one...

Ben, time to make like a tree, and get the fuck out of here.

"Look, while you were off having a romantic subplot with that Hannah lady, I had to do my goddamn job, even if that meant blowing Layla's cover!"

Oh, don't fucking tell me we're having Layla be killed offscreen, that's dirty fucking pool, episode...

"Annnd... Fade to black. Whelp, that was a sad way to end it, but hey, maybe people won't mind-" "Frank, there's still 20 minutes left in the episode." "But, I- we- where the fuck do we go after killing Layla?!"

"Maybe this is why we kept crossing paths; sooner or later, I was gonna fuck up big time..."

[And it is around this point I am reminded of them discussing the grandfather paradox during the trailer for this entire {chunk of the} season...]

Addison, don't act like the solution isn't having someone leap into Layla to fix this...

...

...I swear to God...

...

...okay, I am actually annoyed, you don't make us think Layla died offscreen, only to pull the "Just foolin'" card, THAT is dirty fucking pool

Oh, hey, they remembered Ben got a phone number at the start...

And so we have a chase scene in a mosque. But at least the bad guys know to take their shoes off.

And so Ben knocks out that Bill Burr looking motherfucker.

...Ben, you are so close to doing the full Kyle Reese, just say the line properly...

Plot twist, Layla was secretly Hannah, was a shock!

Yeah, get fucked Bill Burr, say bye bye to your car!

"Look, we're sorry about lying about Layla getting killed offscreen, how about we have her drive off into the sunset instead, we good?"

Hannah, call me totally nutty, but I think you'll see Ben again this season.

"I spent more than two dozen leaps looking backwards. From now on, I look forwards" Translation: #RenewThisShowForSeason3.

"So, Ben almost fucked up the leap, but turns out he didn't, that's wanna see me propose?"

...goddamn, this is a plot-twist heavy episode.

["Whelp, we ran out of pre-strike episodes! See ya next year!"]

And to think, I almost missed this one.

[unknownjpegs]

antarctica

Benji watches from the cracked living room window, eyes trained below to the sidewalk. Suddenly, a figure jogs out the front door, directly into the center of the road. A dark vehicle approaches down the rain-wet street, dodging several double-parks. 

The figure pauses beneath a yellow flickering glow — only working streetlight on the whole block, because it’s a shit fucking neighborhood. He feels his mouth twitch slightly; the figure is dressed entirely in black for the purposes of camouflage. Kinda hard to fit in, go unnoticed, with that telling flash of red hair.

And fuck, if he tries so damn hard not to get caught up in the exact color, poetic in his mental comparisons of it to molten metal, or rust, or maybe closer to certain dried leaves on the first few stretching weeks of autumn— 

Xavier turns on the glow-splattered asphalt, head tilted slightly up. There’s a pretty, toothy smile on his face that grows wider as his eyes crawl up the facade of the building.

He’s searching, as he often does, for Benji in the window, as he often is.

 Benji’s hand lifts off its own accord, lips curling slightly as he waves. The movement catches that meandering focus. When green eyes snap directly to his across the distance, his chest aches with a distinct pain of humanity so strong that it startles him. And worse, it cinches more and tighter as Xavier throws both hands up to wave, too. 

So fucking cute, that wide exaggerated sweep over his head. So him.

His whole sternum continues to constrict when they tuck between his head, fingers knit together in a cup around his skull. His face has lit up even more, if possible. 

Oh no, Benji tries to bite back a daft, embarrassingly open smile by worrying his bottom lip. Oh, for fuck’s sake. You have got to stop doing shit like that. Making it so damn hard not to get attached.

There is a soft bubblegum pop! behind him. He jumps and stumbles to the side, his back against the wall. 

“Shit, Ina!”

He hisses at the inch-taller vampire in the center of the room. She looks strange in Xavier’s apartment. Her long legs, wrapped in fishnet, stretch out bare beneath a tattered too big cotton t-shirt that reads He Proposed At Monongahela National Forest. 

“Congrats,” Benji says once he’s gathered himself, with a gesture at her shirt. 

“Thanks.” She pops another bubble, head tilted. When she peers at him like that, huge eyes unblinking, she seems more like a strange storybook animal on the margins of a page. “This place smells like sex.”

Benji’s face heats at her pragmatic observation. He’d just spent the last hour drinking lazily, on and off, from a pale neck — or else his face would be incapable of blushing, would remain cold.

“How’d you get in?”

Ina lifts an arm and points towards the hallway, towards Xavier’s bedroom. Even at the suggestion of it in his mind, the heat gets more pronounced. He has to look away from her when the myriad of images flash in his head, irrationally concerned that she’ll see them.

He wants to keep things to himself. Things like Xavier spread out in the messy sheets, Benji’s hand pressing him down by the center of his chest. The graceful, mind-numbingly pretty stretch of a freckled back when he’d flipped over. Gentle dip of his spine under Benji’s tongue, debating whether the simple taste of sweat and skin was more intoxicating than blood. How soft his grunt had sounded when Benji circled his waist, tugged him towards the edge of the mattress. The high, needy note his airy laugh had found on a winding climb as Benji dropped to his knees, slid a needling bite into the back of his thigh.

“Wow.” Ina says, an eyebrow hitched. “Did you hear anything I just said?”

No, Benji admits to privately to himself, but it must show on his face.

“I said, the window was open. I followed you,” she repeats in her dry lilt. “I was wondering where you kept running off to.” Her bright eyes dart around the living room. His discarded boots, his jacket over the back of the couch some of the only decorations in Xavier’s sparsely adorned space. “Now I get it.”

He lifts his arms, gesturing in a circle, and then lets them drop heavily back to his sides. Here I am. Nothing exciting. “What’s to get?”

“It.” She replies, eyes pulsing wider. On anyone else, it might be a cheeky, esoteric joke. But Benji doubts a single word has passed her lips that she doesn’t mean genuinely. “You have to be careful, though.”

Benji snorts immediately at the prospect. Not that Xavier couldn’t, because he was capable and well-trained and strong, fuck was he strong, but — 

He falters. 

Xavier wouldn’t, is the thing. Not could…because yeah, he was capable. But given the opportunity, Benji trusts that he wouldn’t. That’s the thing he finds so preposterous, that makes him laugh. He wouldn’t give Benji a reason to be cautious. 

“You’re laughing,” Ina says, sounding slightly miffed as she perches on the armrest of the couch. “But I didn’t tell a joke. You do have to be careful with these types.” 

Benji waits for her to expand on that, but she doesn’t. Only stares at him, eyes glowing in the darkness. “Sorry? These types.”

“They’re weak,” she raises a palm when he opens his mouth to argue. “Oh, stop. They are. We both know it, don’t get all,” the hand flaps between them, “Like that.”

“He could kill me if he wanted,” Benji defends and then frowns. Kind of a weird defense to make.

But Ina seems to understand where his mind’s going, because she snaps her fingers. 

“Exactly. He could, but he’s weak, so. Won’t. That is what I’m trying to tell you. Doing this, over and over like you are.” Benji watches her whistle and circle a finger at her temple. “They go all wuh-oh.”

“It’s not every day,” he argues. “I’m being careful.”

“I’m not talking about just the feeding.” She says, standing. “It’s all of it. This, you, the weakness, the bedroom. It’s trust and surrender. Once you have that from someone it’s addictive, isn’t it?” Ina taps her nose. “Both ways.”

He doesn’t respond, because the honest answer is yes. It’s fucking addictive because it feels like it’s meant to be there. He thinks of Xavier’s hair in the streetlight, and glances away from her eyes once more. Sometimes it feels like she’s peeling him open at the sternum, finding truth where it sleeps idle in his dead guts. 

That’s where I tuck him, comes the thought, and she watches it flit across his face. Clicks her tongue against her teeth and then strides forward, taking his shoulders in her black-tipped hands. 

“If you want to keep this one like it is, you just need to give it a break once in awhile.”

“He.”

“He,” Ina corrects immediately. “Take it from me — they enthrall easily. Get attached. Not in a sexy way, Benji,” she clarifies, grinning at his embarrassed scowl. “I mean, dissociative-attached. Like…walking blood-bag. Unwell, no thoughts up there.” She pats his shoulder and lets her hands drop to her sides, chirping a phrase that Benji can’t translate. “You don’t seem the type to enjoy a husk that is always amenable.”

Benji imagines forest-green eyes flat of light and life, that emotive ferocity stifled, blurred, by  obedient subservience. It isn’t the idea of submissiveness that rolls his stomach with nausea, nose wrinkling — he likes looking down to Xavier on his knees, listening to breathy, ruined begging. 

No, the nausea wrenches him because none of it would be presented as an option. Behavior forced by whatever dangerous bond Ina warns against. 

Benji swallows the lump in his throat. “No, I wouldn’t like that.”

Ina shrugs. “So be careful. Take some breaks.”

His eyes drift towards the window, but Xavier’s long gone. The yellow glow of the streetlight is empty. 

“I will,” he promises.

*

The very next evening, Benji is back at his apartment. 

He tries not to think of that conversation. Tries to ignore the wriggle of anxiety in the back of his head as he watches Xavier shrug on a hoodie, hands flattening messy hair as his head pokes out. 

“We taking yours?” He asks, approaching Benji where he sprawls in a rickety chair at the kitchen table. “Gotta be honest, makes me kind of insane to think about.”

He leans down slow, palms sliding across the table behind Benji and caging him in. He’s got a smile on —  little dangerous, glinting thing that draws Benji’s focus down to that fucking mouth. He tilts his chin up, tips of their noses briefly bumping together.

“Why am I not surprised you’re a fuckin’ bike passenger princess?” He teases, holding Xavier’s gaze until, inevitable, the human shies a bit and glances away. 

He stretches upright, slipping giant warm palms up Benji’s arms to his shoulders, fit them in a gentle cup around either side of his jaw. 

“Think I could pull off a crown?”

Benji stares up at him, imagining it, hypnotized by how Xavier’s back to the window sets a luminous halo of moonlight peeking through his hair. You would look good in anything, you fucking bastard.

“Easily.” He breathes. 

*

They end up taking Xavier’s old pickup. Ancient, but operable, and in pretty good condition. 

“I like working on stuff. I’m good with my hands,” Xavier had said, leaning across the console to snap his passenger’s seatbelt in place despite the ‘really?’ look Benji shot at him. He’d flushed, bent slightly into Benji’s space, and looked up with big, genuinely embarrassed eyes. “Ha — I mean…I meant, like, mechanically. Didn’t mean it like that, swear.”

But Benji had already been reaching to wind fingers into his hair, affectionately amused and pulling him closer, closer. They’d kissed hungrily until the windows fogged a bit, until Benji had that overwhelming feeling of ‘more, please’. Motivated by the desire to crawl into Xavier’s lap in the driver’s seat, he’d flung himself forward with the urge to move, to be as connected as possible.

And then there had been a loud, tearing rip. 

“Oops,” Benji had muttered, plucking the frayed half of the seatbelt now loose and broken in his lap. “Shit, sorry.”

Words’d been barely out of him before he was being dragged into another kiss, Xavier’s whining, panting groans offered hotly into his mouth.

“Christ— oh my fucking God — Benji, oh —” he’d been murmuring between kisses even hungrier than before. “Fuck, why was that so hot? I have to drive, dude. Jesus.”

*

Benji navigates them to the field. It’s a fucking miracle itself that they get there unharmed. Xavier’s the worst driver he has ever had the displeasure of being in a moving vehicle with — including Ina, who sometimes laughingly jerks the wheel to play chicken with oncoming traffic.

He slips out first, hopping down into tall grass and tossing the plastic bag printed Thank you! into the bed of the truck. 

“Damn,” Xavier’s saying as he shuts his door, head tilted up. “You weren’t lying. I didn’t realize it would be so…”

“Right? Only gotta get out of the city a bit, and it’s like this.” They meet at the back of the truck, pausing as their eyes do too. Benji grins. “Ina — friend of mine, uh, ‘nother vampire, she’s real old — she says the best place to see it all is Antarctica. Y’know, ‘cuz nobody is there. Just you and the sky. Makes it proper…” he waves a hand, lacking a good descriptor. “Incredible.”

Xavier whistles and tilts his face towards the cosmos, eyes darting around. Benji watches him spin in a slow circle, trying to find pictures amongst the stars. He could point a few out, if he felt like he had the braincells to rub together to remember, but Xavier is — he looks — he’s so — 

Fuck. Benji thinks.

He glances down, eyebrows raised and lips curling. “What?” 

“Oh —” Benji laughs nervously. It’d been aloud. “I just…” His hands lift uselessly, and the withholds the urge to let one drop to Xavier’s waist. “Just think it’s cool, right? That’s fuckin’ everything, right there.” 

Xavier laughs and turns towards the truck, unlatching the mechanism to lower the tailgate. He braces both hands on it, tongue poking out from between his lips. “Makes my head hurt to think about, sometimes.”

“Right. It’s just…everything.”

Fuck, Benji thinks again, and catches his wrist. Xavier’s pulse hammers away, jolts on a beat when his cold fingers encircle it. That makes him grin, eyes lidded as he peers up at Xavier’s confused, hesitant expression.

“Okay?”

“Yeah,” Benji says, voice low. “Fucking super. Really.”

Now he allows his hands to find the magnetic pull of that body. Fits them against the firm, tapered flank of muscle that drives him mental to look at, much less touch.

Benji puts no effort at all into lifting him. Big hands scrabble at his shoulders briefly until Xavier’s laughing breathlessly, shocked. His back arches off the taillight, chest heaving. 

“Ohhhkay. What the fuck.” His fingers squeeze. “Fuck, you are strong.”

“Coulda done that before,” Benji admits cheekily, eyebrows jumping brief and suggestive. “Just so you know.”

It has exactly the effect he suspected, so he’s smirking as Xavier nearly whimpers and yanks him forward. It’s an awkward angle to make work for a kiss, but they do; Xavier has to balance low on Benji’s hips, legs around his waist, sat uncomfortably against the bumper, to get their faces close enough. 

When Benji flirts fangs at his collarbone, Xavier moans filthily and presses their bodies tighter together, arms locked around his shoulders and grip fierce in his hair. 

“Want it,” he says, eyes fluttering open to find Benji’s. “Please.” 

And usually, Benji wouldn’t hesitate to follow that pleading command. He’d relish the give of flesh beneath those sharp points, moan like a beast as they pop through layers into the warmth pulsing beneath. He’d lap at the blood that welled up, grind his hips at it on his tongue, tuck his fucking whole face into the smell and heat and taste. 

Except he doesn’t — not that he doesn’t have the urge. He always does, always wants to bite down somewhere soft on that pale body. The desire is present even when he’s not thirsty. Even after he’s just drunk his fill, watching Xavier writhe beneath or above him, catch his breath with rolling eyes and a satisfied smile. He watches that and has the urge to — not even bite. Just put his mouth there. Be close. 

“Later,” Benji promises vaguely against soft skin. His tongue darts out to lick over the pulsing blue cord of a vein: hello, see you soon, I’ll be back for you. He brings their lips together again, whispering. “Just this for now.” 

When they finally part, Xavier’s eyes are glazed, mouth swollen in so specific a pink to him that Benji nearly dives in for more. 

And Benji has long become used to the cold of his own body — had never felt it like a lacking of anything but heat. Same way his brain filters out repetitive noises, he doesn’t need to spare thought towards, Benji doesn’t think of the cold. 

Except now, when they part. When Xavier pulls away to his feet, drops the tailgate, and crawls shakily into the truck bed, it feels cold. He feels cold. 

Benji watches as he yanks a variety of blankets from the narrow backseat and spreads them out into as cozy a nest as he can manage, in these circumstances. 

“Should I be jealous that you keep those at the ready?” Benji jokes, because he feels more than cold. Feels like something’s lacking — something that is too big to acknowledge. There, like a background buzz, that he can’t give thought towards.

Xavier dips his chin shyly, cheeks red not just from the kissing or scrape of Benji’s stubble. “I just — when…if people — I want them to be comfortable.” 

“Oooh, want ‘em comfortable, hey?” Benji teasingly snorts to offset how the insinuation (People? Who? When?) prickles strangely at his scalp . “I’ll bet.”

Xavier tugs him forward as he climbs up too, and the collision of their bodies together into the pile has the whole vehicle jerking. They laugh and tangle together and shove; wrestle a bit, Benji always keeping himself carefully and tightly in check. Aware that too hard a grasp on a bicep might fracture bone, a push to ribs might crack one. 

Eventually they settle side by side, propped and seated against the rear window. Benji had retrieved the convenience store haul he’d picked up before heading to Xavier’s earlier. Now, he dumps it upright. Several bottles of water spill out, rolling in the bed of the truck between their legs. Along with a variety of snacks, an assortment of candy, and because it lights up Xavier’s face, a few sugar-packed energy drink.

“No iron pills?” Xavier jokes, rifling through the pile to find a bag of chips. 

“For what?” Benji asks stupidly, snatching it away and offering a bottle of water instead. “Finish that first. Your lips are chapped.” 

Xavier leans forward and puckers dramatically, eyebrows waggling. “Just lick ‘em for me.” He falls back laughing when Benji shoves him away by the cheek, slumped into the corner. Long legs kick out, one tossed over the edge and the other across Benji’s own.

“I mean, this stuff is unhealthy. Where’s all the spinach and vitamins and iron-rich foods and, like, shit that’ll beef up —” he pats his inner elbow theatrically. “These bad boys.”  

Benji’s eyebrows furrow. “Why the fuck would I get you spinach? So y’can sit there and munch on it like a rabbit? You don’t even like it.”

Xavier sits up with that toothy grin in place, delighted about something. “Jesus Christ, you are so totally oblivious it’s crazy.” 

*

They lay there for hours. Spin together in cycles of quiet chatter, wild laughs, and comfortable silence. At one point, Xavier adjusts across the blankets, snack wrappers crinkling. They haven’t been far from one another, but now there’s more space on either side than between. Both have toed their shoes off; Xavier’s trainers are a neat pair near the dropped tailgate, while one of Benji’s is kicked beside them and the other had been flung off the side into the grass. He’ll have to find it before he goes. Before he has to go, because in a few hours, the sun’ll be up and this will be over. 

Take a break.

Fuck. And what if he finds that he can’t pull himself away? What then? He thinks of Ina. Her tendency to be there one moment and gone the next. How it had felt to have her there through his change, her soft touch and whispers of support and physical help, when he needed it. And also how it had felt to find her simply gone one day. 

His eyes flick over the blanket of night, the tiny far-off dots. He envisions Ina floating between them, waiting to collide with one of those tiny pinpricks. Tries to imagine himself doing the same. Shudders.

“Cold?” Xavier asks immediately and then snorts. “Oh, fuck. That was a stupid question, huh?” 

He lifts a plaid duvet over both their legs anyway, shuffling closer. They press together from thigh to shoulder, warmth seeping into Benji from every centimeter of pale skin against his. 

Sometimes, even after several years, he finds he still needs practice to get used to his new senses. Occasionally, and especially when he’s feeling overwhelmed, everything will wash in like a tidal wave, too much all at once. 

Benji looks over at Xavier, cheek bunched against the blanket beneath them, and gets the distinct sensation of nonexistent breath catching like a choke in his throat. Everything rushes in. At a distance, far: the gentle patter of a squirrel’s steps across the field, finds the scent of apple blossoms in an orchard three kilometers away, the sound of — 

Right next to him, close: the sound of a singular heartbeat. Xavier’s distinct, clean smell and its nearness multiplying in thousands, to the extreme. Benji fights the urge to roll away as his ears ring, as the dizzy-headed feeling of too much all at once crashes over him.

All of that. Just from — fuck. Just from looking.

Instead of shifting away, Benji faces him. Tucks one arm under his cheek. The other hovers  awkwardly over Xavier’s chest, makes him feel young and immature. Makes him nervous and inarticulate. 

Xavier glances over and his eyebrows furrow a moment. Then he reaches up. Pats Benji’s hand where it floats midair, presses it down until it rest over his heart, and tangles their fingers together. 

Benji’s, still in his chest, feels like it lurches and swings loose.

“You sure you’re not  —” he grins boyishly, bright but embarrassed by something. “You okay?” 

Tongue feels heavy in his mouth, like a weight to the door that prevents it from opening, he swallows and nods. If he tries to speak, he’ll fuck it up.

He can’t even think.

Nothing coherent to think at all, so no pointing trying to verbalize it — although he feels like he should. When it comes to Xavier, it feels so clear but so jumbled. Complicated. He’s only — Benji has only sunk fangs into him a few times. So Ina must be right. Has to be, about that nefarious bond. He feels it like a tether, like a jumbled mess. Feels something, at least.

He thinks about Xavier and it’s useless to describe. Like every time he trusts his fingers fit around something tangible, something suitable to share (See? This. Right here, this thing. This is the feeling. Do you get it?)— it’s sinking and gone back beneath the mess. There’s just so much there, too much to share that he wants to offer.

It especially difficult like this. Xavier, like this. Soft and relaxed, silver-lit by the moon that Benji is fated now to walk under. There’s nothing to fucking say about it — it’s just…Xavier in moonlight. That’s all he can manage.

Xavier in moonlight.

Oh, you fucking prick, he thinks solemnly, suddenly aware. You got me.

That overwhelming feeling bounces around in his chest cavity like it needs to be directed. Benji doesn’t have a translatable place for it, so he slips it into the space marked annoyance. This body splayed out beside him, warmth addictive as it presses against his side, long pale arms folded behind his head. It annoys him.

Benji’s eyes trace over the strong slope of that freckled nose, linger at the slight divot in his cheek from his soft, barely-there smile. Trace and memorize, file away. 

Look at you. Piss off.  Beneath hands folded across his abdomen, Benji’s stomach flutters. Not really, not like it’s alive or capable, but the feeling of butterflies is there all the same. Fuck. I’m gonna start comparing you to the sky. That’s it, then, isn’t it? I don’t come back from something like that. Once you start thinking that way, night-fucking-sky, you don’t go back. Everything — fucking everything — is about to split into before you and after you. I can tell.

“Xavier.” 

“Hm?” The human glances over at him again. Benji notes, as he reaches for his cheek, the painted purple streaks of exhaustion under his eyes. He’s not gaunt by any means, but his cheekbone curves inward slightly, the hollow of his throat pronounced. 

You need to eat better, Benji thinks as he rises enough to lean over. And be careful.

With a palm braced above his shoulder, Benji brings their faces together. Nose bumping again, as they had in Xavier’s apartment. When his wrist brushes the side of his exposed neck, Xavier jolts a little. Laughs immediately after. 

“Cold?” Benji echoes with a grin. He feels long arms wind around his shoulders, deft fingers immediately delving into the tangled mess from laying down so long. Working out some of the knots.

Xavier doesn’t say anything in response. His gaze is sleepy as it slips over Benji’s face, but he nods and pulls beseechingly with that grip in his hair.

Just as they’re about to kiss, electronic birdsong chirps from beneath them. It takes a moment for him to realize where it’s coming from, patting at several pockets before Benji retrieves Xavier’s phone from his back right pocket.

“Thanks,” Xavier blushes when Benji pats over the spot, teasing and appreciative. Then, as he looks at the screen, his eyes shoot wide. “Oh fuck. Man, sunrise. How is it that late already.” He flops backward, arms petulantly crossed over his face. “We only have an hour.”

“Early, already,” Benji corrects, the joke airy and distant. His eyes are fuzzy but summarily fixed on the thrum of a pulse in his wrist. He feels twitchy. Too much all at once, at that ringtone. Because…

 “Xavier.” The redhead lifts an arm to peer at him. “Xavier, ‘ave you got an alarm set for sunrise?”

He frowns. “Yeah, of course.” 

Benji crashes forward, gathering his face up between cold palms. There’s a muffled noise of surprise laughed into his mouth and it doesn’t take long for it to twist into a pleased, rumbling hum. Goes high and hitching, solid little huh of a moan because Xavier seems to realize Benji’s not laughing. Benji is deadly fucking serious. His brow tightly furrowed, mouth in a strangely annoyed sneer even as it presses to Xavier’s again and again.

And Benji finds his chest aches as if he needs air — of course he doesn’t, but when he pulls back with a groan they’re both panting. Xavier in particular, who gasps and clutches at him like he’s drowning.

“Damn —”

The pitchy, ragged croak of Xavier’s voice makes him feel like a fucking feral. He tastes the rest of the sentence off his tongue, throwing a leg over that slim waist so his knees rest on either side of the other man’s hips. Benji slides the hands framing his handsome face to nest, needy and tight, into red hair; he thinks of it glowing under the streetlight, thinks of the arms around his torso waving enthusiastically, thinks of him now, all silver under the stars. 

Benji moans obscenely into the next kiss, and for a time the rest of it is like that, too. Obscene, messy. But his hands don’t waver from their cradle at the back of Xavier’s head, and even though they grind together on a particularly hard bite to a lip or glance of tongues, Benji doesn’t otherwise move. He doesn’t slink lower or make the night witness anything more explicit than it already has — they simply kiss, because it truly is all he needs in the moment. 

And even when Benji soothes gentle, sucking kisses down the pale column of Xavier’s neck, even when Xavier’s strong chin tilts wantonly, the human has no reason to prepare for the sweet pain of a bite. It doesn’t come. 

Benji will forever be cold, will from this point forward need to leech warmth into himself instead of radiating it out. But there’s something like heat in his chest, as they kiss and just kiss; something that fills him up, something that manages to temper even the ever-present pang of thirst. It’s not warmth, but it’s something. 

They kiss until Xavier’s phone goes off again, and still more for a few moments after that. They kiss until Xavier has to pull himself bodily away, holding Benji at arm’s length with hands flat to his chest. He’s panting, he’s grinning, and he laughs when he’s got to firmly push to stop Benji from pouncing once more. Because — because his hair is an absolute tragedy of cowlicks and mess. There are marks near his mouth, dotting his jaw, trailing his neck, disappearing in a line of red across his collarbone into the soft, loose t-shirt he wears. 

None of them are bites.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Benji tells him earnestly, eyes darting all over as the attempts to take him all in. “Xavier, you are just…fuck.” He laughs roughly. “Feel like I’m in Antartica.” 

Xavier goes charmingly, completely red. In fact, he’s blushing the entire drive back. Pink down to his chest — which Benji discovers by teasingly lifting the hem of his shirt as he slips out of the truck. 

Benji watches from a window in the manor as Xavier (horribly) drives the truck into the yellow glow of the rising sun in its peek over the horizon. He shuts the curtains to blot the light out, chest tight. Benji wonders if he’s still blushing. Benji wonders if his hair is the same color it is under the sun as it is a streetlight.

Benji wonders if maybe Ina was right in warning him to be careful. Because now all he can think is before and after. It feels very much like surrender.

[runnawaythoughtswithme]

Dear Internet,

I am writing to you because I need someone to know what's going on. I need someone to listen.

It's insane how one night can change the entire course of your life. But I never would have thought that one night and conversation with Andrew could change everything. But it did. Of all people Andrew... the goofy, dorky, cocky guy from my office. After July 29th life has not been the same and never will be.

He already had my number for work purposes. I'm the travel and events coordinator for our company and he travels once in a while. He recently had a bad travel experience back on July 18th and called me for help. I was happy to help and stayed awake that night til 1am for him to text me and say he finally landed and made it home safe. We weren't friends at the time, but I just cared because of his crappy travel situation. I think I also cared because when he called me and told me the situation he made light of it and was cracking jokes and making me laugh. I remember thinking what a cool and awesome person who can make lemonade out of lemons. Most people would just be upset and while he was, he also made the best of it and laughed about it.

July 29th comes around and it's about 830pm when I get a notification saying he added me on Snapchat. Now I know what you're thinking, really Snapchat? Yes really. Now I don't really use Snapchat anymore except for the occasional conversation with one of my 2 best friends. The conversation with him started out with a simple Hey. But within a couple hours, we discovered how much we have in common, conversation never slowed down or ran out of things to talk about, it just flowed. And I was grinning ear to ear the entire time.

I had been home alone the night before since my husband, Kyle, was out of town and wouldn't return til Sunday. So I was lonely and eventually I told Andrew that I was enjoying our conversation and it was nice because I was feeling lonely tonight, that he's really cool and I'm glad I'm getting to know him better. The conversation never slowed and before I knew it, it was 4am and he felt like my best friend. We had talked about our upbringing, traumas we've experienced like the fact that we have both been raped, the craziness of his ex-girlfriend, our families, friends, jobs, you name it and we had covered it. There was the occasional joke or innuendo and some casual flirting. But that got stronger as the night went on. By 4am I was sending him a few of the pictures from the boudoir shoot I had told him I did. And he was lusting over them hard but I didn't mind. I liked the attention but more importantly, I liked the attention from him.

A few more risque pictures are exchanged and then he tells me he's getting sleepy at 5am. I reply and he reads the message but no response. He fell asleep with the chat open. I'm on cloud 9 at this point and have gotten a second wind of energy so I'm wide awake. I scroll on TikTok and Instagram for a while before finally it's 630 and he messages me saying he's awake. He's a morning person. Annoying but he's used to waking up at the same time to meditate and then get ready for work so his internal clock just woke him up. At this point all I can think about is food so I work up the courage to ask him if he wants to hang out today and to my surprise he says yes, what do you want to do.

I start to panic because we don't talk or interact at work and yet we are going to go hang out, just the two of us, together. So I propose breakfast at Waffle House and mini golf. He says sounds great what time? I say meet you there at 830 because I needed to shower and get ready.

I choose an outfit that I knew he would like simply because it made my ass look great. Plus the romper was a little on the short side so bending over to play mini-golf would get his attention.

Now at this point of the story, I'm sure you're thinking, "But wait she has a husband what is she doing basically going on a date with another guy??" But what you need to know about my husband is that we have been together for 8 years, married for 4 of those, and we don't communicate. Before you say "All men don't communicate," Kyle is different. I'm not joking when I say we DO NOT communicate, talk, or anything. Talking, communicating, and arguing, all require both people to speak. Kyle never speaks or voices his opinion or side or feelings or anything. When we do 'argue' it's me talking at him than sitting in silence and waiting for Kyle to respond and eventually all he says is I'm sorry, I love you, I don't know what to say. It has ALWAYS been that way. We don't talk or have conversations like normal people or normal couples. There is nothing but me talking and Kyle either doesn't respond, says I don't know, or just okay whatever you want or think honey.

Back to Andrew... I pulled up to Waffle House right next to him not realizing it, and was so incredibly nervous I didn't know if I would even be able to get out of the car but somehow I did. We said good morning walked inside and sat in a booth. After ordering our food, our conversation picked right back up with us laughing and just having a good time. Food and drinks come and the conversation is still going. He's the kind of guy who is funny without really trying, he just jokes around and you laugh. I took a sip of my coffee after swallowing a bite of food and he mimicked the waitress that had been repeating the same phrase in the same tone of voice at every table, and it was too funny not to laugh. But with coffee just at the front of my lips, I spit it all over him. Yes VERY MORTIFYING. Glad we can agree on that. His white t-shirt was now covered in slattered coffee. I think my face turned the brightest shade of red humanly possible. I wanted to dig a hole and bury myself alive in it with humiliation. I apologized over and over and he said it was okay and just laughed at me. We eventually made it to mini golf, established the rules, and that loser buys snow cones.

But never expected for the day to go the way it did....

TO BE CONTINUED...

[slasherscream]

just a small blurb but i can’t stop thinking about -

                   BILLY LOOMIS FT. A HILARIOUS READER

they don’t know how to act! no brain to mouth filter whatsoever. it’s the wild, wild west whenever they decide to move their lips.

imagine that reader with mister. stick up his ass billy loomis. can you GET what i’m laying down here?? the age old riddle of unstoppable force meets immovable object. whomst will win?

you may you run within the same general circle as billy and stu but you aren’t close to them or anything. you’re just so funny that everyone loves having you around. you could sit at any table during lunch and be greeted with smiles and eye-rolls, everyone already trying to guess what you’ll come up with next. 

it’s easy to not get caught always watching you when almost everyone is doing the same thing. you draw the eyes of anyone who’s talked to you, even if just for a little while. your personality nothing short of infectious. 

it drives billy a little crazy, actually. how you tell a little joke and he wants to look up and see the way the punchline shaped your mouth. how he hears your laugh in a crowd and has to stop himself from trying to find you so he can watch you be so caught up in being happy- 

at one point he’d thought he wanted to kill you. he’d never focused on another person so much without wanting them dead, frankly. 

but when he and stu were picking their next victim he bit down on his tongue to stop himself from saying your name. if he said it he’d follow through on it just to prove a point. so he didn’t say your name, and he admitted to himself that maybe he liked you a little. maybe even more than liked you. 

he still can’t bring himself to do anything more than stand a little closer to you at a party, or catch your eye and not be the first one to look away. 

stu is no idiot though and he’s billy’s guardian angel of “bro you’re capable of human emotions”. it just takes one time of billy slipping up while you’re around. you make a dumb joke, not even one of your hilarious ones and billy scoffs quietly       but not the way he usually does when stu tells a joke that doesn’t land. it was soft and there was the hint of a smile as he turned away from watching you. a real smile, too.

now that stu is involved all bets are off. he loves to see bullshit play out!!! even more than that?? he wants to see his best friend HUMBLED by the human condition of pining and having to regularly interact with the Person You Are Pining For™. 

so he “casually” tells you he’s never seen billy really laugh ( a lie. he’s seen everything billy has to offer, for better or worse ).

now billy has the full force of your comedic talent focused on him at all times!! because that’s so sad!! not even his best friend has seen him laugh? the person who he spends every minute with?? this is an emergency!!!

( stu thinks it’s kind of cute how easily you believed him. he thinks it’s cuter that you’ve decided it’s your life’s mission just to make billy laugh. some days you look like you found a hundred dollars laying in the street just because you get a smile out of him. he’s been the only one caring for billy for so long it guts him to see someone else finally do the same thing. and lord knows billy doesn’t make it easy- )

everyone needs a laugh!!! you are the laugh doctor! please hold still for this exam billy you are obviously sick and in need of healing. 

suddenly billy has two shadows instead of one. one of his shadows follows him around like an overeager puppy ( and it’s overwhelming - after so long of watching you from afar - to suddenly have every ounce of your attention. it’s like walking through a blizzard for miles, never wanting anything more than to be back in your warm house. then you get there and open the door and you’re home but the warm air hits your face and it hurts. that’s what it’s like when you hang off his arm rambling like you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else but with him even on the most mundane days. ) and the other shadow is looking oddly smug recently. 

this all goes on for so long that you’re starting to get discouraged even as you also, incidentally, start bonding with him because of the sheer amount of time you spend following this man around for No Good Reason (according to him). 

the boiling point of it all? the anniversary of his mother leaving.

you know his mother is gone, of course. and you might even know the reason why (it’s a small town and people will always talk) but you didn’t know the date. you don’t have it etched into your memory the way it’s been burned into billy’s. 

stu has been walking on eggshells for weeks but you’ve ignored billy’s prickly mood, thinking he’s just getting into one of his funks.

in fact you doubled down on giving him attention. on teasing him. touching him. talking to him. staring at him. him. him. him. him. him - 

as if you don’t have anything better to do or anywhere else to be. 

the closer it gets to the day his mother up and left him without so much as a goodbye the more your constant presence starts to make him feel sick. you seem to be none the wiser as with each passing day the way his eyes settle on you gets more and more unhinged. 

( stu is nearby, painfully unable to help either one of you. a helpless onlooker that’s praying billy doesn’t go over the edge and kill you, or worse - push you away. )

and you’re doing it because you care so much it hurts but billy is insecure, at his very core, and he loves you and maybe he’s loved you for so long it’s pathetic. and some part of him can’t believe that you actually care about him. that this is anything more than a game to you when every little fucking thing you do means everything to him. 

it comes to a head when you invite yourself over the night of the anniversary. billy had seemed off the day before and you wanted to make sure he was okay or make him feel better if he wasn’t. 

( the funny thing about being so caught up in how you feel about someone is that it’s easy to miss the way they feel about you. because you love billy. you love him when he’s ranting about the complexities of the horror genre. you love him when he’s moody. you love him when he’s happy but thinks it’s not cool to show it. you love him when the sky is black as night or when it’s the brightest blue it can be. billy’s obsessed with the way you fill up a room just by being you but you can’t get over the way he invades every part of who you are. you can’t remember who you were before you first looked into those eyes of his, overflowing with intensity, and thought ‘ game on, tough guy ‘ )

he opens the door, already having half a mind to kill the person who has the nerve to bother him today of all fucking days - and there you are.

                                  and he snaps.

he snaps and he says every hurtful thing he can think of to say. because he wants to see how far you can take your stupid act. because he wants you to walk away so he can have a reason to kill you and get it over with. because he can’t love anyone again just so they can leave. 

when he runs out of words to say the rage subsides and he sees you. he sees you the way he’s never seen you before. on the verge of tears. and now he wonders if the one thing worse than you leaving him is you leaving him because he hurt you. 

but you push your way into his house, close the door and tell him that he’s a fucking asshole and that you’d beat the shit out of him if you didn’t love him so much. 

he finally laughs. it’s a shock to the system. it’s explosive and messy, the way billy is whenever he lets himself feel anything. you don’t have time to commit it to memory before it turns bitter and verges on hysterical. 

you’ll both always remember the way you rushed to wrap him into your arms and hold him close. the first moment when all the walls came crashing down. and even though you shouldn’t be, you were there waiting for him, ready to hold him together when he couldn’t do it for himself anymore. 

you talk all through the night and you don’t laugh but you smile at each other, and even though the smiles are a little sad they mean so much. maybe all this time you were hoping that if you could just make him happy enough then he’d always be yours in a way that no one else could ever have him. it was so fitting of him - with his contrary personality - to decide to share the ache inside of him instead. 

but you know this is so much more permanent and meaningful than his sweetest smile, or his brightest laugh. when he finally falls asleep in your arms, defenseless and vulnerable in so many ways, you feel like you could cry as the full weight of his trust sinks in. 

you can share happiness with anyone. but sadness?? the kind that’s seeped into every part of you? the kind that feels like a rot in your bones? that burns at the back of your throat? that’s special. 

and you do get to see him laugh the way you’ve always wanted to. 

you wake up late the next day and he’s, dare you say it, almost shy when he first looks up at you, already trying to move away from the warmth and comfort you’re so readily willing to give him. and it’s so endearing to see billy in the aftermath of all his anger. you did that for him - gave him a different kind of relief that no amount of blood shed could substitute. 

he tries to apologize, in his roundabout way, for either having human emotions in the first place or for burdening you with them. it’s hard to figure out since he’s so terrible at communication. 

you shut him up by kissing him and for once he doesn’t have anything to say. 

you kiss for a long time, the accumulation of months of wanting one another and ignoring it. and then you pull away to catch your breathe. as soon as you found it you tilt your forehead against his and look at him like he’s your whole world and it still makes him feel sick but now it’s in a good way. because now he can have you. 

he thinks you’re going to tell him you love him again and this time he’ll say it back because you need to know. need to know that you’re everything. that nothing matters but you. 

instead you say “it be like that sometimes” and the words hang in the air long enough that you start to regret them. until he starts to laugh. he wraps his arms around you and laughs so hard his shoulders shake. he presses his smile into your cheeks and says he can’t stand you. 

but it sounds so much like an i love you that you don’t even need to hear him say it. 

once he’s done laughing he says it anyway. 

[mountswhore]

Hi love !! Can you do one where y/n and mason have been together for some time now and all his friends and family calls them a married couple even though they arent even engaged yet. Ben and Dec are always teasing him about it and tells him he is so whipped and asks him ‘where is your missus’ every time just to piss him off and have a banter about it. At a gathering they have at their house, since Dec and Ben arrived , they teased Mason continuously and laughing how y/n and Mason both refer themselves as mummy and daddy to their dog. Also Mason flips them off.You can go from here. Thank you ❤️❤️❤️

𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 — mason mount

summary: you and mason have been head over shoes in love for three years, and his mates don't fail to let him know just how whipped he is over you.

notes: requests (for mason mount and christian pulisic) are CLOSED.

You and Mason were frequently referred to as a married couple. You loved, acted, and argued like one. It was surprising to Mason's family that he was yet to put a ring on you. From the moment you started dating, Mason was completely in love and willing to do anything for you. There were countless times you'd be texting during your work days, mentioning you forgot your lunch, and this soppy bastard was knocking at your office door forty minutes later with a Chinese box in his hands. He'd offer to come over whenever you'd had a bad day, stopping at the shops to fill a basket full of things you loved.

Everyone was confused at how you were still only dating. This man hadn't proposed yet, despite being so blindly in love. But you'd done everything else. He'd said he loved you pretty quickly, and it was such a wholesome moment too.

You'd invited him round to your apartment after a hard day of work, needing some sort of fun. Mason was in his car before he could even reply to your invite. You set your living room up, making it all cozy and finding a show to watch whilst you enjoyed his company, and he most certainly enjoyed yours.

The pair of you were huddled together, fighting away the winter cold, your duvet wrapped around you. You could feel his hands holding you close to him, his breath tickling your neck as he laid on your shoulder, it was a perfect way to unwind after your day.

"You know, Richard Madden is the sexiest man to come from the UK," you mentioned, partly joking just to wind him up, and you felt his head lift from your shoulder to give you a look, "it's true. Might even go as far as saying he's the sexiest man in the world."

"Not true," Mason replied, digging his finger into your side gently to tickle you, "I was born here, Y/N. Did you forget? How can you fancy him when you've got me laying beside you?"

"Believe me, if Richard Madden was an option, I wouldn't be here right now." You joked, keeping a poker face as his jaw dropped. He knew you were poking fun, and didn't actually mean it.

"You're lucky I love you," Mason murmured against your shoulder after finding his previous position. But you couldn't quite sit still anymore, this man had just told you he loved you. He'd stolen the words you'd been sitting on for weeks.

"I love you too." You replied, cheeks rosy all because of the man cuddled into you.

He'd asked you to move in after a year together, and he had no doubt about it. He wanted you everyday, he didn't want to have to drive to spend a night, he wanted it to be a forever thing. And you agreed just as fast, arranging to move your things in. It was strange, utterly strange, that everybody but Mason could see how whipped he was for you. And it wasn't until recently that Mason finally noticed just how much he was willing to do for you.

You'd been begging, pleading, praying for a puppy. After talking with Kai and his girlfriend about their collection of animals, you wanted one. You wanted your house to feel less lonely, especially when Mason was away. Mason didn't seem interested though, he wanted you and only you. A dog wasn't something he needed.

When Ben had brought up his interest in rescuing a dog, Mason had told him about your heart being completely set on wanting a puppy and constantly asking him. But Mason didn't receive the reply he thought he would, instead, he was met with Ben's laughter.

"What's so funny, dick?"

Ben giggled once more, grabbing his wash bag and following Mason out of the dressing rooms after a long day of training. "I'm surprised you're putting your foot down, mate."

Mason was beyond confused.

"You're always saying yes to Y/N, you're totally whipped. Every time she asks for something, or mentions wanting something, she ends up having it as soon as you can get your hands on it. You made me pick you up because you didn't want to say no to her borrowing your car last month. You're completely whipped, mate." Ben chuckled, throwing his belongings into the back seat of his car.

Was he whipped? Did he really drop everything and give you what you wanted whenever? Mason thought it was normal to give your all to your partner, his love language was acts of service after all. It played on his mind all day, and had gotten worse when he joined party with Declan and Ben that evening.

Ben made Declan aware of the situation, and Declan had agreed.

"You're taking the piss, surely," Mason groaned, resting his controller on his thigh and leaning back in his chair, his hand gliding across his stubbled jaw, "I am not whipped. Shut up."

One particular night, however, Mason was feeling extra romantic. He'd given you a lovely night together, holding you on his chest in bed that evening and sighing into your hair. It was moments like these that he realised he'd turn his back on the world for you. For his woman.

"What puppy did you want?" He asked, eyes closed even as you lifted your head to look at him.

"Really? You mean it?" You were eager with your interrogation and it warmed his head. Nodding his head, Mason watched you grab your laptop and open your browser, many tabs open to bookmark which puppies you had your eye on.

You'd invited Ben and Declan round for a games night with Mason, mainly so you could spend time with your new dog, Tillie. It was too late for Mason to cancel, but he knew exactly what Declan and Ben would say the moment they walked through the door. They had no idea about the new puppy, and more importantly, Mason giving in again.

The pair of them entered your home with a smug look between them, Mason rolling his eyes at them both as they greeted the pup. You had trailed off into the kitchen, leaving Mason to greet his best friends.

"Mr. Whip-"

"Shut up."

[etheriaaly]

Just The Two Of Us [C! Tommyinnit x GN! Reader]

FLUFF TO ANGST (PLATONIC)  WARNINGS: Mentions of suicide, suicidal thoughts, character death, cursing

Reader pronouns: They/them 

A/N: Hi, this is my first DSMP fanfic so uhh I hope u enjoy lmao. There might be grammatical errors so pls do not mind it :D

ɴᴀᴠɪɢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ∣ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

—

[Y/N] already lost count of all the pranks and chaos they made with Tommy. They didn't like causing havoc or pulling pranks on people but if Tommy asked them to tag along, they would. Tommy is their best friend after all. Plus, where's the fun in life without a little risk?

[Y/N] was just at their Cottage house, peacefully making the potions that Quackity ordered just hours ago. Since [Y/N] is a skilled witch, it was no shock when they owned a Potions business. Everyone in the SMP server knows about this and they usually come and buy their potions. 

They were about to finish the last set of potions that Quackity ordered until they ran out of ingredients. "Dammit." [Y/N] muttered under their breath. They turned around and immediately went to find if they have any stock ingredients in their barrels or chests.

When they saw no stock ingredients, [Y/N] sighed and decided to do some last minute ingredients grinding. It was until they opened the door and saw Tommy standing in front of their house door.

[Y/N] knew that his presence is no good because that motherfucker is grinning ear to ear. They playfully groaned and asked, "What is it this time child?"

"Hey, I told you not to call me a child anymore!" Tommy suddenly protested, feeling insulted but went back to his sly grin and said, "Let's prank Skeppy and Bad." 

"That's a horrible idea." 

"Come on, bitch. It'll be fun." 

And they did come with Tommy. A couple hours had passed and [Y/N] had already forgotten about the ingredients they were gonna get for Quackity's potions. Tommy said that Big Q's order can wait but the prank can't. 

It wasn't long after Bad and Skeppy saw the two teenagers doing their little harmless prank on them. 

[Y/N] caught sight of the two and immediately tugged on Tommy's shirt. "Fuck, Tommy we gotta go." 

Tommy, unfazed and still focused on the prank, said, "Just a little longer." 

[Y/N] nudged Tommy's side using her elbows as the two teenagers can now hear Skeppy and Bad's incoherent yelling drawing closer and closer to them. 

"RUN!" [Y/N] yelled as they both left the things they used to try to prank BBH and Skeppy. 

The two let out a laugh as they ran away. Tommy constantly turned his head back to see if Skeppy and Bad are still after them. 

[Y/N] and Tommy continued to run even though Bad and Skeppy stopped coming after them. It wasn't until the two teenagers finally stopped running so that they could catch their breath. 

"What now?" [Y/N] gasped, who is still out of breath from both running and laughing at the same time. They looked at Tommy. 

Tommy grinned again and then grabbed their arm, "I have something pog to show you." 

[Y/N] didn't question Tommy and just let him drag them to a mountain. 

Once they have reached the destination, [Y/N] let out a 'wow'. The view is breathtaking and it is very peaceful. The mountain isn't that very far from the SMP but it looks like very few have come across this part. 

"So, what do you think?" Tommy asked, looking at the view. The view consists of the calming ocean waves and a peaceful sunsetting with birds passing by. 

[Y/N] turned to Tommy and smiled, "This could be our secret spot." They slowly walked towards the edge of the mountain cliff but were immediately stopped by Tommy. 

"Oh, [Y/N] wait. Be careful, the edge of the cliff looks really faulty." Tommy warned. 

[Y/N] immediately stepped back a little and took note of what Tommy said. But, they were still curious and looked down at the edge of the cliff, only to see the water from below. 

If someone would fall from this cliff and took a heavy impact on the water, that person wouldn't survive due to how high the mountain cliff is. 

[Y/N] then proposed, "You know, when things are stressful and stuff. We can just go here, sit in silence and look at the view as the wind or the waves takes away our problems for a while." 

"Just the two of us." The blonde haired lad said and then they both stood in silence, admiring the view and beauty of the server. 

Oh, if only you could turn back in time and relive this memory. If only things are still the same the way it was before. 

It's been so long since [Y/N] had fun and peace. Probably so many months since Tommy first showed them their secret mountain hangout area. 

[Y/N] currently stood still, gazing at the view that was once calm and peaceful but was now replaced with sounds of flying TNTs, fireworks and screams from the background.

They were in no state of mind as of the moment. They don't even know what to do anymore. A lot has changed ever since the wars, the exilation of Tommy. 

[Y/N] sniffed, wiping their tears using their now mangy sleeves caused by the current chaotic event. They continued to stare at the ocean, a potion of poison glistening in their hands. 

[Y/N] looked at the Potion of Poison that they were holding and pondered whether to drink it or not. 

Maybe it's best to end it once and for all. They don't have anywhere to go anyways. They don't have any friends or family to turn back to since everyone is against them or thought badly of them now. 

[Y/N] can't even go back to L’manberg as well since they're now a wanted criminal for breaking the laws and escaping from their house since they're supposed to be on house arrest for the crimes they didn't even do. 

They opened the cork of the potion, but they didn't drink it yet. They let their mind wander for a while and process everything that has happened. 

Maybe Dream was right. Maybe the people they loved never even cared for them at all. Maybe it was all just a lie. Maybe—

"[Y/N]." A familiar voice that they haven't heard in a while. 

It was windy. The cool breeze of air touched their skins. But along with the wind, there are particles of TNT or fireworks dusts. 

The [H/C] haired person turned around and saw their best friend for the first time in months. 

"Tommy." [Y/N] replied. Their voice were hoarse and dry. "What are you- What are you doing here?" 

"I could ask you the same thing." Tommy glared at them.

[Y/N] quietly groaned, closed their eyes for a while and pinched their nose bridge, still holding the potion on their other hand. "So, you believe all that shit?"

"Enough for me to believe the fact you tried to murder Tubbo, burn my invites and team up with Dream." 

Tommy added, "Maybe they were right about you. You're Dream's sibling after all." 

[Y/N] scoffed and threw their available hand around the air, "He may be my sibling, but we are never alike." 

"Why, [Y/N]? Why did you do it?" Tommy asked, hands gripping tighter on his sword. "Did Dream finally get into your head for you to commit these crimes? Or did you just do it because it's in your blood?" 

"You don't know a thing that happened," [Y/N] harshly spit back, completely trying to avoid the topic of Dream. "Of course you don't. You were exiled."

Tommy never understood why. Why had they turned like this? He felt rage and betrayal. During his exiled time, Tommy thought that they were gonna be that one person who would try to find him. Comfort him or even send him secret coded messages. But no, he received nothing. 

It hurts. Hurts like hell to know your best friend turned their back on everyone. A best friend that he has known for years. A part of him wants to believe they didn't do it but the proofs are enough for him to believe it was really them. 

"Well, you really can't blame me can you? You can only blame yourself," [Y/N] said. "This all started because of you and your stupid discs. All you ever care about is the FUCKING DISCS. Wars started, lives were lost, relationships were destroyed, all just because of those discs." 

They had never done this before. This was their first time just being angry and shouting at each other. Although this might be new to each other, it was obvious that they have been bottling up their emotions way too long. 

"You know what?! Things would be so much better if only you didn't exist." Tommy instantly regretted what he said as soon as he saw a potion glisten from [Y/N]'s hands. 

He may not be an expert but he knew well enough of the potions due to him hanging out too much with them before. "What are you doing?" Tommy immediately asked. "Is that a potion of poison?" 

"Nothing for you to care about." [Y/N] turned back towards the cliff and stared at the view once again. 

"Just the two of us again here, huh?" They said as they pulled the potion towards their mouth, just inches away from the lips now until Tommy hurriedly ran towards [Y/N] and tackled them. 

"What are you, an idiot?!" Tommy scolded as they both fought each other while trying not to fall from the cliff. He tried to pull the potion of poison away but it was hard since they kept gripping on it. 

It wasn't until Tommy was finally able to remove the potion from [Y/N]'s grasps. He threw the potion far away as it got smashed on the ground. 

The two of them were too busy fighting over the potion to notice that one of them is now standing on the faulty edge of the cliff. 

[Y/N] was on the edge of the cliff and accidentally backed away from Tommy, thinking there was still space. A loud shriek came out of their mouth.

Tommy immediately ran towards the edge, scrambled on his feet and looked down. Luckily, [Y/N] was able to hold onto the edge but their hands are shaky and tired from all the things that just happened. 

"I got you, I got you." Tommy frantically muttered, his breath increasing as to not knowing what will happen next. 

[Y/N] grip is slowly failing. Once their hands slipped, Tommy instantly grabbed their hands and tried to pull them back up. But, he too was tired from everything that has been happening. 

He tried to pull them up again but it was no use. Stress was adding up even more the moment they both felt the edge of the cliff shaking once more. 

Tommy can't do it anymore. So, he let out all the tears he's been trying to fight back. 

"It's gonna be okay, Tommy. Let me go." 

The blonde haired teen's eyes widened at [Y/N]'s statement. He can't do it. He can't bear to lose another loved one in his life. 

"I can't lose you too, [N/N]." Tommy croaked. 

The two might've fought just minutes ago but this is now a life and death situation. Problems and angst aside, they still care for each other. 

"You already did." Tommy's eyes widened in confusion and sadness. [Y/N] forced their hand to slip from his as Tommy tried to tighten it even more. [Y/N] had a few energies remaining, so they used it to push themselves off the cliff with their foot, making Tommy let go. 

For Tommy, everything is going so fast that his mind almost stopped working. 

But everything was in slow motion for [Y/N]. The fresh wind was so refreshing, almost making them forget what is currently happening to them. 

They closed their eyes, not wanting to see anymore reactions from Tommy. This is their end. This was meant to be. 

The moment [Y/N] chose to fall out from Tommy's grip, the blonde panicked and set aside all items he had with him. Without thinking properly, he lunged himself off the cliff. The only goal he had in mind was to save [Y/N] before it's too late. 

But he was, indeed, late. 

Everyone's communicator beeped. They all took at least some time to look at what the message could be on the communicator. As soon as everyone read the 2 words, their jaws dropped. 

[Y/N] drowned. 

[xsamsharons]

only one bed - nikolai lantsov.

pairing: nikolai lantsov x reader

genre/warning: just fluff!

words: 1.4k

summary: the age old "there’s only one bed and we sleep as far away as possible from each other but wake up cuddling" trope.

Today had been a rare calm day out on a deserted beach you’d found somewhere along the coast of Ravka, the sun had shined all day without cloud in sight, and the lack of wind combined with the hot weather had made it impossible to stay out of the water for long. Even though the day had been one of the most relaxed one the crew had had the fortune of enjoying in a while, a whole day in the ocean would take its toll on anyone, hence why you were now basically dragging your feet back to the Volkvolny to turn in for the night. You had your shoes in your hands, feeling the now cold sand make contact with your bare feet, your hair salty and your eyes red from the water. Tolya and Tamar were walking in front of you, both absolutely exhausted, causing them to stumble and trip over everything. Genya and David were walking behind you, both whispering to each other and giggling under their breath, and Nikolai was walking right beside you. You were both walking while sharing a peaceful moment of comfortable silence after a day full of annoying each other, though it seemed keeping quiet was a hard thing for Nikolai to do, since he tried to spark a conversation every five steps you took.

You had left everything on the ship in order before you left this morning, already imagining how tiring it would be to tidy everything up when you could barely keep your eyes open. However, it seemed like the universe had other plans, because as soon as you all arrived in one piece to the stowaway boat you had docked on the shore and after various failed attempts to climb up and onto the ship, Tolya collapsed on the couch. You tried nudging him and waking him up, but it was a lost cost given the fact that he had instantly passed out, and none of you were strong enough to move his dead weight.

“Don’t look so sad, darling.” Nikolai said when he saw you standing on your door looking like a kicked puppy. “Now you have an excuse to come into my room and sleep next to me.” he winked, which caused you to roll your eyes. He wasn’t wrong: while you would obviously take the couch, his room was probably the best one out of everyone’s, and you really didn’t have enough energy to argue with him right now. Instead, you just settled for a glare that you hoped conveyed everything you would say to him in that moment if you weren’t so exhausted. Judging by the way his smirk only grew in response to your look, you think it probably did.

“Thanks.” You huffed as he opened the door to his office slash room.

As soon as you stepped into his room and heard him shut the door behind you, you wanted to start crying out of frustration. Or exhaustion - probably both, you weren’t sure. Bottom line is that you wanted to start crying. Nikolai’s couch was a mess. There were pages filled with what looked like ship designs everywhere, the bed sheet on top of it looked like it hadn’t been washed in a month, there was a leftover plate of food on the floor and, was that a sword sticking out of the cushions? Nikolai chuckled from his side of the room.

“Guess you don’t want to be sleeping in there.” He said, sending you a smirk over his shirtless shoulder as he changed into his sleeping clothes.

“It beats the floor.” You shrugged, and it was true. The floor hadn’t been cleaned in ages and you were scared you were gonna fall through it and end up in the middle of the ocean. An irrational thought, of course, but one that your mind considered very possible anyway.

“I mean, we can always share the bed.” Nikolai proposed, and you shook your head, you thought you were already being too much of a bother, and you didn’t think your body could handle a whole night of sleeping next to him. “Oh, come on. It’s not that big of a deal, darling.” he smirked, walking closer to you until he was crouching down to look into your eyes that were trying to focus on anything but his hazel ones..

“Fine.” You sighed in response, and you don’t know how, but his smirk got even bigger than it had been seconds before. After telling him you’d slap his stupid smirk off his face if he didn’t stop, (which got a laugh out of him) you got changed and climbed into bed.

You both made a point of sleeping as far away from each other as possible, even though Nikolai had suggested that he could - in his own words - ‘keep you warmer than the covers ever could’, to the point where you were almost falling off the bed. You didn’t care though, you were exhausted and just wanted to sleep, so that’s exactly what you did.

When you woke up the next morning, the first thing you noticed was how heavy your chest felt. You got worried for a moment, your brain starting to think that somehow you had fallen through the floor and you were drowning, before you glanced down and saw Nikolai’s head resting right under your chin and on top of your chest, both of his arms safely wrapped around your body as his soft breaths made contact with your skin, causing goosebumps to erupt in your body and your heartbeat to speed up. You ignored the butterflies having him lay against you caused you, and instead admired the sight in front of you.

You stared at his face and admired every single feature in it; his long eyelashes resting on his cheeks, his soft lips slightly parted but looking as beautiful as ever, and his sharp nose upon which you were delicately tracing your index finger up and down. His nose subconsciously scrunched up at the contact and you let out a soft laugh at how cute he looked, moving your right hand from his nose and placing it on his hair instead, you started to twirl his curls in your fingers. You kept your other hand on his face and caressed his cheek, feeling your heart melting at the sight of the beautiful prince.

Soon enough, however, you noticed how your body started to go numb from being under him and having his body pressed up against you for such a long time. As much as you hated to disrupt the peaceful state he was in and your own private selfish view of his face, you shook him awake. He let out a groan and nuzzled closer to you, if that was even possible, and you felt your heart do flips inside you.

“Sorry for the bother, your highness, but my whole body is going numb. You aren’t exactly a feather.” You teased in a sarcastic tone, using his title to further taunt him.

In one swift motion, Nikolai turned you both around, still keeping his arms wrapped around you but this time you were the one whose head was placed on his chest. Your heart was already beating at an inhuman pace when he started to trace patterns across your arm with his thumb and you felt your body tense up once you started thinking about how he was conscious now and definitely aware of what he was doing. Nikolai must have felt this because he spoke with a sigh afterwards.

“I always imagined our first morning waking up together would involve less clothing, but this is still pretty good.” He said and you slapped his chest, feeling your cheeks burning up. “Just relax, darling. I can't sleep when your thoughts are so loud.” He concluded, moving to place a kiss on the crown of your head before laying back down.

You smiled softly and nuzzled closer to him, inhaling his scent resting your head above his shirt. You returned his kiss by placing one of your own against his chest where his shirt opened and left an open spot, relaxing against him once again once you felt his quiet laugh come from above you in the form of a huff of air.

Feeling his thumb still drawing patterns in your arms, you decided a few more hours of sleep wouldn’t hurt, and he would still be there when you woke up.

[violetlilysunshine]

Like a Sleepover

Tom Holland x Female Reader

Requested

Anon: Sleeping over Tom Holland house for the first time. Lots of fluff please

WC: 3,544

Warnings: none, just fluff

A/N: I'm seeing this take place in Atlanta, but it’s not really specific if you wanna imagine it somewhere else!

REQUESTS OPEN - Or just come chat :)

MASTERLIST

You and Tom had been together for a little while; you were getting serious, spending more and more time together.

Last month, you finally put a label on yourselves, “is it...ya know, uh… can I, well…” he stuttered.

“Spit it out, Tommy,” you joked.

“Can I call you my girlfriend?”

You were taken aback for a second, “well, uh, to be honest, I kinda thought I already was…” you giggled.

He laughed at you gently, “well alright then, girlfriend…” he trailed off with a raise of his eyebrows.

“Okay, boyfriend.”

TUESDAY

Flash forward and you’re making plans for this weekend seeing as you're both off from filming.

“Yeah, so they’re showing Outsiders at the drive-in on Friday, and we’d have to go to the later showing after I finish filming, but uh, I thought it would be fun and something different for us and I know you love the movie. Might be fun to dress like Greasers too,” he proposed through the phone, calling you between scenes.

“Ooh that does sound like fun, but I wanna be Cherry,” you said, giggling a bit.

“Okay, you can be Cherry, I’ll be Ponyboy,” he finalized.

“Sounds good, well I gotta go,” you said, “duty calls.”

“Yeah, me too, but uh, one more thing real fast?”

“Sure, what’s up, babe?”

“Well seeing as it’s going to be really late, I just thought maybe after it’s over, you could maybe stay with me?” his voice tweaked up at the end. He was met with silence on your end for a minute before he added, “ya know, like a sleepover…”

“Uh, yeah, maybe…” you trailed off, “we’ll see what the wind blows, huh?”

“Oh,” he said, his voice dropping a bit, “yeah sounds good.”

“Okay, well I really do have to run.”

“Alright, darling, talk to you tonight.”

“Bye,” you said, already walking out of your trailer and back to set.

“Yeah, bye,” he answered to himself, seeing as you’d already ended the call.

You had never been nervous with him before, but now he’d casually invited you to stay over at his house for the night, something you’d never done with any boyfriend, ever. You didn’t know how to act, and it kinda freaked you out.

Was he expecting anything? What would you even wear? Should you bring a change of clothes? Would late night last into early morning? What if you woke up before him and didn’t know what to do in his house? What if he woke up first and you slept in really late, leaving him bored and trapped?

Questions swirled your mind, and you knew he would bring it up again, but you had to force them away. You hustled back to set, getting into character and trying to forget about everything.

He called you later that night, “wanna grab a bite with Harry and I?” he proposed.

“Uh sure,” you thought since Harry would be there, he wasn’t likely to bring it up again.

You met him just down the street from his house at the forgotten diner you frequented, never being recognized and getting some peace together. You grabbed burgers and chatted about your day as you ate and everything seemed fine. He didn’t bring it up again, and you thought you would have another few days to process everything and hopefully get over the hurdles in your mind. You wanted to stay with him, but you didn’t know how that would play out, exactly.

“Finished?” he asked, gesturing to your empty tray as he stood up.

“Yeah, thanks,” you smiled, and he cleaned up the table and took the trash to the can.

“I’m gonna walk back, if that’s okay,” Harry said, standing from the table, “got some photos I wanna edit.”

“Sure, bro, I’ll be right behind you,” Tom answered, coming back to you.

“Bye,” you waved as he left you and Tom alone.

“Walk you to your car?” Tom offered.

You stood up, turning around to thank the workers as the two of you left the diner. He walked you to your car, one hand secured around your shoulders, hugging you tight to his side.

“So, uh, I kinda got the sense that you didn’t want to stay with me earlier,” he said slowly, testing the waters to see how you would react.

You swallowed hard, turning to lean on the door of your car, “oh,” you whispered, “well uh, it’s not that, it’s just that I don’t - I’ve never really, uh, done that before.”

“Yeah I know we haven’t, love,” he chuckled.

“I mean, like ever,” you whispered, looking at the ground, “I just uh, don’t really know how that works.”

“Oh, well, uh, it’s not that hard really,” he soothed, “you just sorta sleep at my place, and I take care of you, and make you breakfast, and we just be together.”

You looked into his chocolate eyes, nothing but love pouring out of them. You don’t know how long you held his gaze for, but he started to get a little nervous at your lack of response.

“I mean, we’ve napped together before, it’s kinda like the same thing, just longer,” he added, trying to put you at ease.

“But like, what’s gonna happen?” you said, fiddling with your hands.

He understood what your emphasis meant, bringing a hand to your shoulder and rubbing it gently, “I’m not expecting anything, love,” he soothed you, “if it happens, fine, I’m ready for that. If you’re not that’s fine too, just wanna cuddle with you. Feel you pressed against me. Have my sheets smell like you when I get in ‘em the next night.”

You felt more at ease about it, but wrinkled your nose at his last statement.

His eyes grew wide, “no no no,” he hurried out, “I didn’t mean it, like, in a weird way! It came out wrong!”

You giggled at him, “it’s okay, bub, I get it. Why do you think I like wearing your hoodies all the time?”

He breathed a sigh of relief, chuckling at you, “yeah?”

“Yeah, and to be honest I don’t really even like hoodies. I’m a sweatshirt kind of gal.”

“Noted,” he answered, saving that info for later, “so what d’ya think about Friday?”

“I’ll stay, but like, do I bring anything?”

“You can bring whatever makes you comfortable, love,” he answered quietly, stepping towards you and cupping your face in his hands.

“Okay,” you breathed, connecting your lips to his.

You kissed for a while, his body pressing yours into the door. You pulled back to take a breath, resting your forehead on his, “but really, do I bring like, a toothbrush and stuff?”

“Yes, love, bring a toothbrush,” he chuckled, pecking you again. He swung his arm around your shoulder again, pulling you off the car, “let’s get you home, yeah?”

He opened your door, letting you inside the driver’s seat and closing the door. You started the car, him still standing there watching you. You rolled down the window, “are you coming or what?” you laughed.

“What?” he asked with a chuckle.

“I’m taking you home, obviously,” you giggled.

He ran around to the other side, hopping in quickly and buckling up. His hand rested against your thigh instantly, stroking his thumb across your skin.

You made the short drive to his house, lights on downstairs showing that Harry was already there.

“Thanks for the ride, baby,” Tom said, leaning over the console and giving you a quick peck.

“Anytime,” you whispered, pecking him again.

“See you Friday,” he said with a raise of his eyebrows, squeezing your thigh.

“Yeah, Friday,” you answered quickly.

He pecked you one last time before slipping out of the car and jogging to the front door. You watched him go inside, waving to each other before you drove off.

THURSDAY

After you were off, you took a long shower, exfoliating everything and shaving your legs, in preparation for tomorrow night. You carefully packed your bag: toothbrush, toothpaste, floss, mouthwash, hair brush, extra ponytail holders, face wash, cute pajamas, fuzzy socks, extra undies (more than you’ll ever possibly need but can’t be too prepared, right?), a cute outfit for Saturday, and a book (because who knows what the tide will bring?).

You’d spent so long worrying about what you would take with you, that you’d forgotten that you had to find something to wear to the movie. You’d already agreed to be Cherry, so you had to come up with something.

You slipped to the back of your closet, finding an old-plaid-navy-school-uniform skirt. That’ll work. You pulled out a plain white sweater that you’d never found a chance to wear, thinking you could tuck that in, and a lace bralette to go underneath it; after all, you wanted to feel a little sexy. You pulled forward some old blue Vans and some white crew socks, planning to fold them over. You also planned to ask your hair and make-up artist to help you with your hair before you left set tomorrow, saving a few pictures for her.

By the time you’d done all that, you figured you better go to bed, turning off the light, crawling into bed, and thinking about what tomorrow would bring.

FRIDAY

You’d had a long and stressful day filming, stuttering over your lines, missing your marks, and overall just not giving your best performance. Everyone has their off days, but you knew this was coming from your worries about tonight.

You called Tom as you were getting your hair done after wrapping for the day.

“Hi, bub, am I interrupting you?” you asked as soon as he answered.

“Never, love,” he answered, “what’s up?”

“Well, I’m getting my hair done for tonight, then I was going to head home. Just wanted to make sure you didn’t want me to stop and get anything at all or bring anything specific with me..”

“Course not, darling. You just have to bring that pretty face…” he trailed off.

If you were with him, you’d have slapped his shoulder lightly. Instead you just giggled, asking, “you’re positive?”

“Yes darling,” he insisted, “I’ll pick you up at 9:00.”

“Alright…” you trailed, “guess I better let you get back to work.”

“I’ll see you later, beautiful,” he whispered, “bye.”

“Bye.”

Your hair and make-up artist finished her work, expertly recreating your example images. You thanked her profusely, complimenting her over and over.

She answered with a simple, “it’s nothing dear,” and a wave of her hand.

You hugged her thank you, heading back to your trailer to collect your things.

By the time you got back to your apartment, it was already 8:30. You quickly dropped your work and other set junk on the table, scurrying to your room to collect your bag for Tom’s. You checked over everything in there, playing all the possible scenarios in your mind before deciding you were prepared.

You changed into your outfit for the night, lacing your shoes and admiring yourself in the full length mirror. You snapped a few pictures, deciding that one was cute and posted it to your Instagram story with the caption, “where’s my Pony?” and a cherry emoji.

As soon as you put it up, Tom knocked on your door. You rushed through the living room to the front door, flinging it open to see what Tom had concocted for the evening. You took in his appearance, mouth watering at the sight. You admired his slicked back hair, tight grey t-shirt, sleeves rolled up a bit of course, loose jeans, cuffed at the hem, beat up black converse, and red flannel hanging over his shoulder; you didn’t realize the effect this dress-up would have on you. You giggled, eyeing him up and down as he did the same to you.

“Hey, doll,” he grinned, meeting your eyes again.

“Hey, Pony,” you laughed.

“Ready to go?” he asked gently.

“Yeah, let me just get my bag from my room,” you said, turning back to grab it from your bed.

At the last second you decided to throw a box of tampons in. You weren’t expecting to use them, but you didn’t want to get stranded without them. You sighed, zipping up the bag and turning off your bedroom light.

You emerged from the room, walking towards Tom, standing by the table.

“Ready,” you said, voice kind of quiet.

“Let’s go then,” he smiled brightly, taking your bag from you and grabbing your hand. You locked the door behind you before following him to his car.

~~~~

When you parked to watch the movie, Tom was quick to pull out his phone, snapping a picture of the title screen and posting it to his public story. You knew fans would be in a tizzy, considering your earlier post, but they always were so what’s the point in worrying. Then he turned to you, “take a photo with me, love?”

“Course, Pony, anything for you,” you said dramatically, even though you loved it.

“Are you gonna call me that all night?” he chuckled.

“Maybe forever,” you answered, laughing loudly.

He pulled his phone up to take a selfie. You smiled wide, pressing your faces together, and he turned to peck your cheek. He snapped another, smiling as well, saving it and setting it as his lock screen.

The movie was great, as expected, and the drive-in atmosphere made it even more fun. You didn’t have to worry about fans interrupting you, a big plus, but it also just fit the movie so well, and it was fun to be in costume.

When it wrapped up and you were waiting in the traffic to pull out of the lot, Tom asked gently, “still wanna come over?”

“Yeah, sure,” you said, trying not to overthink things.

“Okay, just making sure. You don’t have to if you don’t want to. Just want you to be comfortable,” he said, dropping a hand to your thigh and giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Oh, well I wanna give it a go,” you said with a small smile, placing your hand on top of his.

He smiled wide, picking up your hand to give it a kiss, before dropping it back into your lap.

The drive to his house was quick after you finally made it out of the parking lot. He hurried around the car, opening your door for you, before grabbing your bag from the backseat.

He placed a hand on your lower back, gently guiding you to the front door. He shuffled around to unlock it, pushing open the door and allowing you to enter first. You stepped inside, making note of Harry on the couch. It was almost 1:00 AM, so you’d assumed he'd be asleep.

“Oh, hey Harry,” you spoke lightly.

“Hey, was wondering when you’d get here…” he trailed off, “I was just about to turn in. Outfit’s great by the way,” he said, standing from the couch and gathering his laptop.

“I don’t mean to chase you out,” you said, not wanting to be in the way.

“No, no, you didn’t,” he soothed, “it’s time to turn in anyway, gonna go golf in the morning.”

“Oh, okay, goodnight.”

“Night,” he said, trudging down the hall.

Tom had set your bag on the bench in the entryway, coming up behind you. He placed his hands on your hips, pulling you flush against his front, as he snuggled his face into your neck.

“Hi,” he whispered in your hair.

“Hi,” you giggled back, attempting to turn in his grasp.

His hands held you in place, wrapping around to cross over your stomach. He rested his weight against you, slowly swaying the both of you back and forth.

You eyed the mirror across the room, desperate to take pictures like this. After all, he got a new lockscreen earlier…

“Bub,” you giggled, feeling his breath fan across your neck.

“Mmm, yes, my love?” he grumbled, pressing kisses against your skin.

“I wanna take a picture,” you giggled, “over in that cool mirror.”

He squeezed you tighter for a second, before releasing you, “mmkay,” he answered, letting you lead him over to the mirror.

“Do that again,” you told him, guiding his arms around your waist.

He was quick to settle back into you, breathing in your scent as you snapped a few photos in the mirror: a few of him kissing your neck, a few with you both looking in the mirror, a few of him looking at you, lovingly. He buried his face even further into you, hiding completely, as you took just one more. You asked him if it was okay to post one.

“Let me see it first,” he said, wanting to check all of the surroundings for spoilers and whatnot.

He was quick to approve the photo with his lips pressed to your jaw, making you smile.

You put it up on your story, captioning this one, “found him,” with the horse and cherry emojis.

He kissed your neck a few times, watching you post, before mumbling, “ready for bed?”

You yawned slowly, “yeah, I think so.”

“Alright,” he whispered, pecking your cheek one final time.

He slid one hand down your arm, locking your fingers together, and pulling you towards the staircase. He picked up your bag, carrying it with him up to his bedroom. You followed him in and he set your bag on the end of the bed.

“Alright, darling,” he said, rubbing his hands together gently, “make yourself at home.”

“Okay,” you giggled, stepping towards the end of the bed gently.

He’d placed your bag in the middle, next to a sweatshirt. You looked at him, making note of its presence.

“Oh, well, uh, you said you didn’t like hoodies, so I uh, pulled this one out for you, ya know, if you want it,” he said, shuffling his feet.

All you could do was smile, You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into you. You kissed him gently, lingering for just a second.

“Thank you,” you whispered against his lips.

“You’re welcome, darling.”

You turned towards the bed, stepping back from him.

“So what’d you bring?” he asked, one hand finding the zipper of your bag as he tried to get a peek inside. You were quick to stop his hands, not wanting him to see the box of tampons thrown on top.

“Things,” you said giggling, “teeth stuff, hair stuff, clothes, a book…” you trailed off.

“A book?” he laughed lightly, “what book?”

“Looking for Alaska,” you answered, “it’s my comfort book.”

“Well, you’ll have to read it to me,” he said with a glint in his eye.

“Okay,” you whispered with a sheepish smile.

“I’m gonna pop in the bathroom real quick, alright?”

“Of course, it’s your house,” you laughed.

In his absence, you changed clothes, dragging on your tiny sleep shorts and matching tank top and pulling his sweatshirt over the top. You moved your bag off the mattress, dropping it on the floor. He came back quickly, seeing your new outfit, and smiling widely.

“Looks good on you,” he grinned.

“Thanks,” you said, “can I take my makeup off?”

“Course,” he answered, gesturing to the bathroom.

While you did that, he changed as well, dressing in a new t-shirt and clean boxers; he didn’t want to get in bed with you for the first time in dirty boxers of course. He shuffled under the covers, tucking into his usual side and propping against the headboard. He scrolled through Instagram, reposting your stories to his own and liking a few posts of yours.

You returned, dropping your items back in your bag, and grabbing your book. You flipped off the overhead light and stepped into the other side, enjoying how utterly domestic everything felt.

He flipped on the lamp on the side table, opening his arm for you to rest against him. You settled against his chest, opening your book to start to read to him. He kissed your head and rubbed small circles into your arm.

Your eyes were getting heavy as you read, but you would gladly stay up all night reading with him. Unfortunately, he started to doze off, snoring just enough for you to hear. You closed the book, marking your page but knowing you’d have to go back a little bit tomorrow, and reached over to turn the light off.

He woke up a bit, grumbling, “what’re you doing, love?”

“Just turning off the light,” you whispered, “go back to sleep.”

He sank down to lay against the pillows. You dropped back over to your side, curling up, but leaving some distance between you two. You faced him, admiring his face as he slept.

“What’re you doing?” he grumbled, eyes still closed.

“What do you mean?” you giggled, “going to sleep.”

“No, c’mere,” he said, reaching an arm out to wrap around your waist.

He pulled you into him, tangling your legs together and pecking your cheeks. You giggled at him, pulling his lips to yours, kissing him goodnight.

“G’night, my love,” he grumbled, tipping his head back to rest his chin against your forehead.

“Night, Pony,” you whispered back.

He chuckled, squeezing you tighter before you both drifted off to sleep.

[cipheress-to-k-pop]

Supernova (Chapter 7)

Pairing: Dick Grayson as Robin x Reader

Warnings: None! Lmao finally

Word Count: 3.9K

Summary: As the daughter of Wonder Woman, you always knew you were destined for something more than the life of a mortal. It seemed like your wish for a life of adventure came true but whether in the form of a blessing or curse, you didn’t know. All you know is that you were the sole witness for a chain of murders that would begin. It’s up to you to find out who was the murderer before it’s too late……

A/N: It's a sweet chapter ya'll. I promise.

Supernova Masterlist

“You’re sweaty.” Robin murmured when you rested your forehead against the nape of his neck. You both were exhausted after training and you were a shower away from passing out in your bed but you both still needed a few minutes to catch your breath, leaning on each other for support. Even though he was complaining about you sweating, he didn’t seem to do anything to get away from you, even going so far as to wrap an arm around your shoulder.

You felt him swallowing the gulps of water against your skin before scoffing and wiping your skin with a towel, “As if you’re any better, my eyes are stinging from your sweat.”

Then you both dissolved back to silence, quietly enjoying each other’s company as the night slowly bled into day.

“Do you ever wonder what smoking feels like?” You asked and Robin laughed, making you whine when he began shaking, moving your body in tandem with his because of it. Even though you pinched his side to get him to stop laughing, it was useless since it made him laugh even harder, slugging you off his shoulder as your back hit the training mat.

“It wasn’t even that funny.”

“It was random."

“I was just thinking about it. I can hardly breathe when someone else is smoking beside me. I wonder how it feels actually inhaling the stuff.” You wondered, now getting comfortable on your back and he lay down beside you, “I guess some people enjoy it.”

It was silent again and you yawned, waiting for your body to cool off. The unfortunate thing about living at Happy Harbor was that the weather was unusually hot during the summer, so hot that even the water ended up getting to a scorching temperature. If you went for a shower straight after training, you’d be slowly boiled to perfection.

But the more you waited, the sleepier you got.

Robin spared you a glance as you yawned once again, stifling his own. The training had been taking a toll on him, since he would come to the cave right after patrol instead of sleep at the Manor. Partly because he liked seeing you improve in combat and get better each day and partly because he just liked seeing you.

If he caught you on a good day, you were fun to be around, cheerful and funny. Your energies mixed together well, fitting together like two puzzle pieces but he never lingered on that thought for long. For now, Robin just wanted to be supportive and a good friend. He’d seen firsthand how much you could change when things hurt you and he never wanted to push you towards that again.

His mind drifted back to the day in the interrogation room, the way you didn’t have any remorse for Thelma when she cried and screamed in front of you. It was so unlike you and for a few brief moments he wondered if he ever knew you at all.

He looked at you again, noticing the way you were smiling at nothing, the sheen of sweat on your face and neck before rethinking. He knew you; he was sure of that. And he liked you for it too.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Just that prom is next week at school. Before Valerie I would’ve pleaded to go but I don’t think I’d want to return to school after this.” You said thoughtfully, suddenly thinking about what you would do if you made out of all this alive.

“Maybe you should transfer to my school.” He said absentmindedly. It wasn’t really a suggestion that he thought you’d accept but he actually liked the thought of you going to his school.

You sent him a teasing smile, “Oh? Boy Wonder actually goes to school? Not some advanced intelligence nerd program?”

He laughed at this, “You’re one to talk.”

It was silent for the next couple moments once again while you both rested comfortably. This was the thing he appreciated the most about your relationship; when it was silent, he wasn’t scrambling to find some conversation piece to fill the silence. He wasn’t unaccustomed to awkward silence but it never felt awkward when he was with you. It was just silence.

He could stay beside you and just stay silent and that was enough. He liked that.

“What color are your eyes?” You asked again, curious.

“Like I’d tell you.” He sighed, sounding way too comfortable for his own good. You kicked him lighter than you were intending to.

“They’re brown, aren’t they?”

“Why brown?”

“Because I feel like any other color would give you an unfair advantage.”

He settled in further, wanting the training mats to suddenly feel like his mattress back home, “Well I’m no swim team captain but.”

“Jealous?”

“Sure.”

The sweat was making the mats stick to your skin and you felt it aggressively peel from your skin when you turned on your side to face him. Now you were made painfully aware about the cold sweat pooling below you and realized you were in desperate need for a shower.

You rubbed his arm gently, wishing him a good night even though you knew that the sun was up. Robin returned the gesture with a smile, telling you to get a good night’s sleep. As he watched your receding back, a thought came to his mind and he stopped you in your tracks.

“Here’s a thought, why don’t we do something on prom night? Have our own little thing right here? We could watch a movie or something.” He proposed and your brows furrowed, “Don’t you have prom too?”

He did. Which was planned and decorated with the money his father had generously donated. But Dick didn’t feel an ounce of remorse for missing it. He also knew it was the only night that the others wouldn’t be home, all at their own prom. As long as he would get to have a fun night with you.

“Yeah, but I wasn’t planning on going anyway.” Alfred had already pressed his suit and had a special corsage ordered. He was going with Barbara, as friends, but cancelling on her seemed like a small feat in the moment.

“Are you sure?” “Definitely.”

You smiled slightly, nodding before waving goodbye and continuing on your way to the showers. When he heard the door shut, Dick realized just what he had gotten himself to and flopped back onto the mats, ‘What did I just do?’

He’d have to cancel the limo without his dad or Alfred finding out. He’d have to cancel the reservations at the restaurant. For goodness’ sake, he’d have to take a rain check on Barbara. Still, Dick wasn’t able to wipe the smile off his face.

***

You were oddly looking forward to hanging out with Robin tonight. Everyone had already left for their own proms, Zatanna was in a dress that she had borrowed from you. Even though you knew that the prom dress you had been planning to wear would’ve been the best for her school theme, you had a weirdly hard time parting from it, considering it was just a piece of clothing.

All three girls spent a couple hours primping with you, trying their best to include you in some of the fun. You even managed to rope Artemis into getting glammed up. She protested a lot at first but once she got in the chair it was like you had tamed a jungle cat. They had time to style your hair as well and you barely had any idea what was happening while Doja Cat played and you had a sheet mask on. After getting that off, you felt like a new born baby.

You sent all three of them off after taking a ton of pictures and they told you to have a great night too, smiling like they knew something you didn’t.

Now that the cave was completely empty, even Aqualad had left that morning to pay a visit to Atlantis, you were left alone with Robin and were excited about it. You weren’t going to do anything special anyway, other than watching a movie and stuffing your face with food but you were still happy to spend some time with him when you both weren’t sweating like pigs.

Even the thought of sitting beside him on the couch while a movie played had a skip in your step.

Just as you saw the doors to the main hall and a familiar head of hair, you picked up the pace until you stopped walking all together, shocked.

Because there stood Robin waiting by the door with a shy smile on his face. Dressed in a suit and tie.

You chocked out a laugh, not quite sure why it felt like the wind was knocked out of you before walking up to him, gently pulling his fingers away from the tie he was fidgeting with and straightening it out, “A little over-dressed for a movie, don’t you think?”

“Change of plans, we’re going to have our own prom night, right here.”

You giggled, reclipping the tie clip before straightening out the corsage in his breast pocket. You spared a glance up, meeting his eyes and you realized just how close the both of you had gotten. If he didn’t have the sunglasses on, you would’ve been able to see your reflection in his—probably— brown eyes.

You cleared your throat, stepping away from him not before smoothing your hands down the lapels, smiling at just how handsome he looked.

“Wish you would’ve told me. I would’ve matched what I’m wearing to your tie.” You teased.

“Actually, you can.” You raised a brow at this and the red began crawling up his neck, “I asked your mom to drop your dress off. It’s in your room.”

The uncomfortable conversation with Wonder Woman about why he wanted the particular dress that her daughter of the same age was planning to wear to prom was completely worth it when he watched your eyes light up like the sun before throwing your arms around his neck, “Oh my god! I love you!”

The dress fit you like a glove, even though the last time you wore tried it on it had been a teeny bit snug. All those hours training with Robin probably made it fit a little better even though you didn’t look any different. You stood in front of the mirror and couldn’t stop twirling; the dress was just so beautiful and you were over the moon that you got to wear it.

When you met Robin by the door, it felt a little too good to be true, the way he smiled at you just as your eyes met and then held out his arm for you to take. Your heart was sure to stop beating tonight at the rate it was thumping in your chest. You could barely hear him over the sound of it, filled with too much adrenaline and excitement. You could’ve gone for a 100-mile run with the amount of energy you suddenly had.

“You look pretty.”

You grinned and curtsied in an old-fashioned way, tipping an imaginary hat, “Why, thank you. You look pretty dapper yourself.”

He laughed, “Dapper?”

“It’s a word, look it up, tweetie bird.”

“And now all the magic’s dead.”

“Oh? Because I was expecting you to pull out a bouquet from your sleeve there.”

“Actually—” He smiled, pulling out a matching corsage from his suit pocket and holding it out to you, “I went all out.”

He helped you fasten it around your wrist when you struggled to do it with one hand and your breath got caught in your throat. It was awkward, to say the least, the energy between the both of you. In fact, there was so much tension that you felt like you could choke on it. Even though your first response to any kind of distress was to hide underneath the blankets in your bedroom, you still stayed by his side.

“So, what are we waiting for? What movie are we watching?”

It seemed like he finally remembered why he was standing outside the hall in the first place and smiled shyly, a blush faintly painting his cheeks. It felt like he was stalling the more you thought about it, lingering at the door for way too long as if something would explode or jump at you if he put his hand on the handle.

“Actually—”

He opened the door and you gasped, “You need to stop saying ‘Actually’ because every time you do, I get a heart attack.”

How he managed to get all this done in a day was beyond you. The table was filled with snacks and drinks that you knew was meant to be left over for Wally to finish. The TV had a blanket fort in front of it, looking so cozy that you suddenly wanted to take a nap. The holo-computer was projecting something similar to a carnival game, with a couple targets levitating mid-air, labelled with different points.

Your heart fluttered when you realized that Robin had gone through all this just to make sure you’d have a fun night and suddenly your eyes felt alarmingly wet.

“You’re not gonna cry, are you?” Came his incredulous response and you gave him the weakest punch you could possibly muster because you knew any harder could give your date a hairline fracture, “Excuse me. It’s a perfectly healthy emotional response.”

“Yeah, but you cry a lot, have you realized?” He teased, pulling you toward the holo-computer, giving you a simulator stun gun and then picking one up for himself.

“You don’t cry at all, Mr. Roboto,” You cocked the gun and pointed at him playfully, “But no matter, you’ll be crying once I beat you to dust.”

His signature laugh was the next thing you heard and you blushed, embarrassed that you liked it more than you cared to admit, “Let’s just see about that.”

***

“And then she goes—Word for word, I’m not even kidding—” You told, picking up a tennis ball and using it to imitate an apple before pretending to take a bite out of it, “Young lady, eating is simply not allowed on school premises. *crunch* These rules obviously apply to everyone. *crunch* No one is above the rules. *crunch*”

Robin was laughing at your horrible British accent and the way you tried so hard to sound all hoity-toity, had Alfred been here he would’ve been appalled. To be quite honest, you weren’t even sure if the lady was British or not, but it seemed fitting and the way Robin was laughing made you embarrassing yourself a teensy bit worth it.

“Not to mention she’s spewing apple chunks all over me. I can never unsee that image.” You shuddered, shaking your head and his laughs dulled down to chuckles.

“That’s not that bad. Once, our health class teacher was covering contraceptives and such. And he stands in front of the entire class and, with absolutely no hesitation, asks ‘So boys and girls, what are your favorite condom brands?’” You burst into laughter at that hiding your face in your hands as tears began blurring your vision.

“Oh, my goodness, I can’t breathe, stop talking!” You interrupted his story, clutching your stomach and flopping on your back from laughing so hard. He laughed, watching you writhe on the floor, unable to stop the choked chortles that were leaving your lips. Your stomach felt like you had just done an ab workout.

The movie that was playing had long gotten over, the credits frozen on the screen as you both continued to talk, recounting all the hilarious stories you could remember as music played in the background, “Alright, so it’s an all-girls program and all of the girls are chattering about and have their own little groups in the auditorium. And my principal goes, ‘Why are you all standing so close? You all are straight girls, are you not?’”

“Not as bad as a girl volunteering to sing during a school assembly before serenading me in front of the entire school. Even though we’ve never actually talked.” He blushed, remembering just how embarrassing the situation was. You threw your head back, missing the moment Robin took to admire you.

“You little Casanova. Are you really complaining about being a heartthrob?” You teased, nudging him playfully and he rolled his eyes though it was hidden by his glasses.

Eventually the stories and laughter begin to die down as your ears tune into the music playing in the background. Just as a fun, rap song that you weren’t paying attention to but were sure had something to do with sex ended, you heard the familiar tune flow through the speakers and smiled as the singers’ voices filled your ears.

“Ahh, I love this song.” You smiled, listening to the first verse. It was a pretty love song that always got you singing when you heard it playing in the car. It was the song you listened to on repeat when you read a romance book to give you the right feels. Closing your eyes, you recalled the last book you read to the music, smiling as the feeling of giddiness began to flow through you.

“Care to join me for a dance?”

When you opened your eyes, Robin was holding a hand out for you, a gentle and reassuring smile on his face and you didn’t hesitate before taking his hand. If he had asked at the start of the night, you probably would’ve blushed and felt nervous just by holding his hand but after spending a couple hours together, you were finally in tune with each other.

You didn’t mind resting your hands on his shoulders as his floated around your waist before you began swaying to the rhythm. You had spent the whole day together, more or less in the same way; resting against each other while watching the movie, holding his hand when he attempted to throw a ball with your lacrosse stick and failing before you stepped behind him to show him how it was done and finally feeding each other food as you attempted to play the guess different foods while blindfolded.

You giggled at the way Robin squirmed when the petals of your corsage tickled his neck, still swaying out of beat to the song but it didn’t really matter, you were just trying hard not to trip over the slight train of the dress or on his feet.

“It’s occurring to me that I haven’t actually thanked you for all of this.” You began, eyes darting around the place as you took in just how much he had done for you today and your heart swelled in your chest, smiling softly without even realizing it. His fingers tightened their grip on your waist slightly and the light blush crawling on his cheeks was the only indication that he was feeling slightly embarrassed.

You looked him back in the eye, well at your reflection in his sunglasses, “I’m really touched, Rob. No one’s ever done anything like this for me and I really don’t know what to say to make you understand just how much this means to me. Thank you.”

Thank you didn’t even begin to express how much you felt for him at this point, dancing with you in bare feet across the hall. A night you had been dreading for a while, a night you thought would be spent all alone was made one of the best ones since you opened your eyes on the planet just because of him. You couldn’t tell him how grateful you were for that.

He felt embarrassed that you were putting him on the spot this way. You had said so much and a simple ‘You’re welcome’ didn’t seem right to say. It felt awkward and distant and off-putting, how would you continue the conversation after he so rudely shut you down without any other way to continue?

His hands were slightly sweating against your dress and if you noticed the increase of warmth from his palms, you didn’t say anything. So, he said the only thing he could to sort of fill the silence, “It was nothing, really. You really don’t have to thank me; I didn’t do much. Besides, I hardly think any of this could compare to your real pro—”

He was cut of by your hands slowly sliding to delicately cup his cheeks before slanting your lips over his in your first kiss. He inhaled sharply against your lips, fingertips digging into your waist. The kiss itself wasn’t much, just a silky brush of your lips against his without any pressure before you pulled back and gave him an endearing smile, “Thank you.”

He returned it, pulling you a teensy bit closer so he could hold you against him but still far enough so you couldn’t feel his heartbeat thrumming against his ribcage.

***

Not even twenty minutes after the two of you had parted with whispered goodnights, you climbed up the stairs to Robin’s nest, with your makeup freshly washed off and dressed in comfy pajamas. You saw the tip of Robin’s head peek out from the beanbag and smiled. Your heart was slowly sinking to your stomach with the thought of talking to him.

“Hey.”

He turned around, seemingly surprised to see you which he never seemed before. Usually, he could hear you from a mile away. The tie around his neck was loosened, the top button undone and his suit jacket lay wrinkled beside him, though he was still wearing his glasses.

Nonetheless, he gave you a gentle smile, scooting over a little so you could plop beside him on the beanbag, “Missed me already?”

“Yeah.” The honesty in your voice caught him off-guard and he found himself blushing and avoiding your eyes as he waited for you to speak again and tell him why you came up here. Of course, his heart leaped at the thought that you were up here just to see him, even though you spent the whole night together.

“Listen about earlier,” He turned his head to you but this time it was you who wouldn’t look at him, playing with your fingers in your lap, “About the kiss; I’m sorry.”

He could hardly hear anything other than his heartbeat when he heard the tone in your voice and he knew that something bad was going to come. Were you going to tell him that it was a mistake and that you regret it? He wouldn’t hold it against you but his heart tore at even the thought.

“I shouldn’t have done it without asking for permission first, I’m sorry. I was just reliving it and I realized that I never actually asked if I could, you know? It’s just I really like you and got caught up in nerves and emotions and all—” Somehow you managed to catch yourself rambling and stopped, taking a deep breath, “Anyway, if it made you uncomfortable, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry.”

You glanced back up at him with a shy smile, “Are you gonna say something or, do you want me to leave….”

If it was possible, you looked even more beautiful barefaced and hair pulled back from your face than you did in the most beautiful dress he had ever seen you in before.

“Could I kiss you? Please?”

Your breath got caught in your throat and you found yourself leaning in before you could even think of saying anything.

Who were you to say no?

Forever Taglist:

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[kaeyawillhaveorder]

Prompt 4 with Tenn from Idolish7?

Hi, this is Ritah! Thank you for requesting! I apologize for taking so long on this 😭 I hope you will find this oneshot fulfilling, and if there’s anything I can improve on, please comment it!

prompt four: "haunted house" character: kujo tenn genre: contains very slight fluff word count: 1.5k

🌨️

honorable mention: special thanks to my friend “rilakkuma” for proofreading parts of this story!

"Hey, are you sure?" I said worriedly. "We don't have to go if you don't want t—“

"I'm sure," Tenn said, cutting me off.

We were standing in front of the haunted house of the amusement park. The words “Butcher’s Bargain” were plastered in the middle with big, red lights, a big contrast to the gloomy mood that the house itself gave off. Its broken windows creaked as the wind blew in their direction, the glass — at least, what was left of it — reflecting the sky above. There were missing tiles on the roof, scraped paint, an overgrown lawn…everything about it screamed “ominous.”

I looked at him, and then at his hand. "You're sweating."

"...it's not easy wearing a mask and long sleeved clothes in this weather, you know."

“It’s pretty late at night, Tenn…”

“...”

“Ow! Don’t squeeze my hand so hard! Okay, okay, fine — let’s go.”

I let out a sigh as he pulled me with him toward the booth in front of the house. There wasn’t a line; in fact, none of the passersby spared the attraction a glance. How odd. But, it works out in our favor. So I guess that’s fine.

As we neared, I made out the outline of a man sitting behind the booth. He was slouching, his attention turned toward what I assumed was anything but what his job needed him to do. When he saw us approaching, however, he immediately got up and bowed. “Hello.”

“We would like to go into the haunted house,” I said, handing him our two tickets.

As he scanned them, he kept looking at Tenn, his eyes darting away the moment he saw one of us looking back at him. Would it be best to remain silent in this situation, or speak up so he doesn’t get suspicious…? I looked at Tenn, who peeked at me from behind his dark sunglasses with a shrug. Maybe I shouldn’t have proposed for us to try this attraction after that parade…

Tenn took the tickets from the man, who, with a warm, “Enjoy!” waved us goodbye. We walked away, my steps faster than usual. “Do you think he knew?” I whispered.

“Probably.”

“I’m sorry for making you come with me.” I pushed the door and it opened with a loud, squeaky retort. I paused. “You know, maybe we should just go home, right now.”

“Don’t be. It’s not everyday we get to spend time together.” Then, in a gentler tone, “It would be great for the both of us to enjoy today. The haunted house shouldn’t be that ba—”

His sentence was interrupted by a faint noise that sounded awfully like chainsaws.

I saw several beads of cold sweat roll down his forehead and suppressed a laugh. Who would’ve thought that the Kujou Tenn was a scaredy-cat?

“Alright, you said so, no take-backs now,” I said with a grin, taking his hand in mine. “C’mon, let’s go.”

He reluctantly allowed me to drag him down the dark, small hallway. The floorboards creaked under our weight, and every step made the floor feel even more fragile than it already was. The lights dimmed as we continued to walk, until we couldn’t see anything but each other anymore. Tenn’s hand tightened in mine, his figure rigid. I took a hesitant step back, wondering what to do next.

“...Tenn, do you hear that?”

I hadn’t noticed it before, as the floor was making sounds as we walked, but now that we’ve stopped, the noise was audible.

Very audible.

“That sounds a lot like the chainsaw we heard earlier, huh,” I said. “It also sounds like it’s getting closer and closer from behind you–”

Without warning, Tenn broke into a run, dragging me, once again, with him. I stumbled a little because of the suddenness of it, but after a few steps, I got used to his rhythm.

“Next time, please tell me when you’re going to run before pulling me with you. ALSO,” I said, raising my voice so I could be heard over the pounding of our footsteps, “TENN, IT SOUNDS LIKE IT’S RIGHT BEHIND US.” I looked over my shoulder and saw the glare of the metal in the soft light. “OH GOD, IT IS RIGHT BEHIND US!!! RUNNNNNNNNN!!!!”

“WHAT – huff – DO YOU THINK WE’RE DOING?” he yelled back.

His voice sounded a lot clearer now. He must’ve removed his mask.

“CAN’T WE HIDE SOMEWHERE???”

“THERE ARE STAIRS!”

“WHERE??”

“RIGHT IN FRONT OF US!”

“OH, BUT IT’S KIND OF NARROW—WAIT, DON’T TELL ME WE HAVE TO SACRIFICE ONE PERSON TO RUN BEHIND THE OTHER—?”

I heard a thud behind us and looked back. The chainsaw guy was lying face-first on the floor, groaning. At his foot was a white mask.

“AHA! GOOD WORK, TENN! HE SLIPPED!”

“NOW’S NOT REALLY THE TIME FOR CELEBRATION, DON’T YOU THINK? HEY, BE CAREFUL!”

“WHAT ARE THESE STAIRS MADE OF? METAL? WHY DOES IT HURT SO MUCH? I ONLY SLIPPED A LITTLE! OW—TENN—TOO TIGHT! STOP PULLING SO HARD!”

“THEN USE YOUR LEGS!”

“I AM!”

Somehow, through the bickering, we made it to the second floor. It wasn’t much brighter here; aside from a few more dim light bulbs, everything looked about the same as the last floor.

“THE RIGHT –” Tenn gasped.

“YOUR – YOUR RIGHT?” I shouted. “OR MY RIGHT? WAIT NO, WE’RE BOTH ON THE SAME SIDE SO THE SAME RIGHT –?”

“YES!”

“OKAY, OKAY –”

We swerved toward one of the rooms and Tenn ran right into it with one hand outstretched. It came into contact with the door and I sucked in my breath, praying that Chainsaw Guy wasn’t really fast.

“It’s not opening,” Tenn murmured, trying the doorknob.

“What?”

“It’s locked.”

“...so is the one across from it. I can hear the stairs creaking, let’s move.”

We ran down the hallway, trying as many doors as we could.

“Are you serious? All of them are locked?” I said in disbelief.

“No, there’s one more – next to the staircase.”

We ran toward it, but before we could even reach for the knob, the door opened. From what we could see, there was just a pitch black space in the doorframe. Then, a cow’s face emerged from the darkness, lit up by a flashlight, bloodshot eyes staring right at us. For a split second, none of us moved a muscle.

I screamed.

As if on cue, Tenn readjusted his grip from my hand to my wrist and started running up the staircase. This time, I was ready for it. Forcing my legs to move, I followed, movements heavy and seemingly slower. The stairs seemed to stretch infinitely—I lost count when I got to thirty. I felt like I couldn’t breathe or run fast enough, my ears hurt, my lungs were burning, the creaking of the stairs gave me a headache. And don’t even mention the roaring of the cowman – cow woman, monster, whatever it was supposed to be – from behind, warning me that if I don't get my act together soon, I’ll be dead.

Well, not really. Maybe I’m just taking this too seriously.

After what seemed like ages, we reached the top of the stairs. Without missing a beat, Tenn hurriedly tried the first knob.

Click.

“It works, get in here,” he said, opening the door.

As soon as we both were inside, I slammed the door shut with all my strength, locking it behind me.

“...god,” I said, sliding down to the ground, trying to catch my breath and ignore the knocking noises from the other side.

“Never – never again,” Tenn whispered between pants. He looked over at me in disbelief. “Is this what you do for fun?”

“Only once every – few years,” I whispered back. “It gets boring if I go too often.”

“...”

“…”

We stood there in silence, the only sounds being our faint breathing. It seems like the person who was chasing us gave up.

“Who did you come here with last time?” Tenn finally said. “I can’t imagine anyone who’d enjoy…this.”

“Don’t be silly, of course lots of people enjoy getting scared. For example, me!”

“Well, other than you.”

“My friends!”

“Oh, so you forced them to go with you like you did to me. Duly noted.”

“No! They wanted to. Well, I might’ve dragged my ex along against his will, though…”

“Your ex?” He sounded taken aback.

I let out a laugh, startling him. “What, you thought I haven’t dated anyone before you?”

“Well, no.”

“Whatever you say!”

More silence.

“If you’re curious, you can ask, you know,” I said. “I don’t mind. That look on your face is driving me crazy.”

“...your ex and I, we’re not exactly the same, are we?” he said quietly.

“What do you mean?”

“Sometimes I think you’re better off with someone who can make time for you and not be away all the time.”

“That just makes the time we spend together the more special, don’t you think? Sure, I miss you more often than not, but it makes me look forward to our dates a lot more than I did when I was dating my ex.”

That…did not seem to help the situation.

“I don’t regret breaking up with him, and I’m happy being with you. I’m not planning on dumping you, and I hope you won’t do it either.”

He cracked a little smile.

“That being said…” I stood up and dusted myself off, and he did the same. “Let’s get out of here and get some donuts afterwards. Would you like that?”

He took my hand in his. “Yeah.”

[bubblyhoney]

can i request a fic where sapnap takes the reader to his hometown? like the classic going to places he went to when he was younger. maybe playgrounds and ice cream shops idk

places i used to go

warnings: language of course, an allusion to virginap, my uneducated guess of what sapnap was like in highschool, tiny detail of long haired!sapnap, singular canon detail of underage drinking, jokish about marriage

tags: sapnap x gn!reader

words: 2191

A/N: you are a god, anon. i love comfy and nostalgic fics like these and it was so fun to write. if you hate it dont tell me but if you like it lemme know akskdjd

inbox/requests: open

-

The wind whips fast on your bare fingers, cool and quick and raising goosebumps in its wake. You blink in the haze of the early sunset, head lolled to the side of the headrest. It feels good.

“That’s where I went to high school.” Sapnap interrupts your thoughts and points a finger at a collection of tall brick buildings down a side street. The silver of the lettering is dull, but you can still feel the nostalgia.

“And you’re about to see the park that me and my friends used to hang out at after work and—actually, nevermind.” His arm drops to the middle console and he looks straight ahead with slightly pinker cheeks.

“Do what?” You ask, voice all sweet, and a grin grows on your face. You turn towards him and wiggle your eyebrows.

“Nothing. Homework.” He avoids your eye contact and hikes his hand up higher on the steering wheel. “Anyways— Do you want to get some food before we head out? I know a great place.”

You two were just coming to a close on your little trip to visit his family; it was his step-mom’s birthday and you decided to make a week of it. It was your first long-term trip with Sapnap, and also your first time meeting his dad’s side of the family. You were proud to say she loved you. His little sister took a little more effort to talk to you of her own volition, but soon enough she was on your side.

You have a couple hours to kill before making your flight back home, so Sapnap has taken it upon himself to give you a quick tour of his hometown.

“Yeah,” you decide, bottom lip popped out. “Can we get ice cream after?”

“Uh, duh.” The Neighbourhood’s Stargazing starts through the speakers and he reaches to turn it down. “I’m so ready to get home and sleep.” He stretches his neck in his seat, letting out an uncharacteristically inappropriate grunt when his bones pop. You make a disgusted face, nose wrinkling, but stretch your own back, slumping down in the seat. The day had been full of packing up and this horrible hike his dad liked to do early in the mornings, so you two were pretty beat.

“Okay, we’re here,” he announces three sleepy minutes later in his best attempt at a whisper. Lifting your head off of the corner of your seat, you blink in the setting sunlight as a yawn splits your face. “You’re so cute.”

“Shut up,” you mumble, and struggle to get your seatbelt off in that post-nap haze. You’d barely been asleep for thirty seconds, damn it. The air is a swampy heat when you step out of the car onto rocky gravel and nearly twist your ankle climbing over the curb. Sapnap catches you by the lower back, trying to hide his laugh but failing miserably. You slide him a dirty look, smacking his shoulder as hard as you can manage while limping towards the front entrance.

The door jingles when you two breach the doorway, alerting a bored-looking hostess that the circus has arrived. She looks at Sapnap a second longer than she should, eyebrows screwed together in silent confusion. But she leads the two of you to a booth near a large window, handing you sticky menus and promptly fucking right off to the host station. She nearly runs.

“Do you know her?” You ask, inconspicuously hiding your face in the search for their 24/7 breakfast menu. You feel his eyes on you.

“Don’t think so.” He leans on one elbow and slides his phone out of his jeans’ pocket. In the 25 seconds it takes for you to find their french toast and sides menu, he has browsed and closed his phone with an animatedly shocked look on his face.

“What?” You give him a weird look and put down the menu.

“I totally went to homecoming with that girl.” He eyes the hostess. You glance over at her again, meeting her gaze, and offer a polite smile. She turns away quickly, eyes wide.

“She’s cute,” you say, voice high and fake, and he drums his fingers on the tabletop as an amused look makes its way onto his face.

“Are you—?”

“What?” You reply right back.

“Nothing.”

Thank God the server comes up to your table then and starts asking for drink orders, or else you’d have to admit (sheepishly) you were a tiny eensy-weensy bit annoyed. Only a tad. But after requesting a Dr. Pepper and a water the conversation surrounding the nervous-looking hostess dies.

“I’m so hungry I think I feel my stomach shrinking.” You flop your head onto your arm on the table top and make a whiny noise into the stack of napkins your server left at the table. Sapnap rubs his thumb into the side of your forearm, touch warm and nearly dissolving the pangs of hunger and jealousy.

“You weren’t hungry an hour ago.” He lifts your hand to his face and plants a kiss on the back of it. Oh, pulling out the big guns, huh? “I would have made you something.”

You tilt onto your chin, pouting, and stare up at his cute face. His cute, scruffy, perfectly-kissable face.

“I think I got hungry staring at you for half an hour.” A mischievous grin grows on your previously-petulant face and he just shakes his head.

“I do have that effect,” he admits with cockiness in his tone, lifting his eyebrows and leaning back into the booth with his lips pursed.

The server returns with two glasses and takes your food orders onto their little yellow notepad. You chug the water down when they leave for the kitchen, getting your lap and chin thoroughly wet in the process. Sapnap just snorts at you and shoves the napkins your way.

“So,” you start, patting dry your jeans. “tell me what you were like in high school.” You cross your arms and settle into the booth, smirk on your lips.

“What I was like?” He parrots, sipping at his soda, looking thoughtful. “Firstly, a virgin.” You make a noise. Duh. Dude had a buzz cut his junior year. (You’ve seen the pictures. His step-mom particularly likes them.) “Secondly, I was actually— well, I wasn’t popular, but I had a lot of friends. We were all semi-athletic lonely band kids but we had fun. Had one girlfriend senior year but she went to Cal Tech in the fall and I didn’t. I, um, worked at a Dairy Queen in the summers and gained so much weight I had to lose all over again for Unified Track.”

“Relatable,” you comment, drinking noisily at your water. He fiddles with the paper straw wrapper and crunches it up into a ball. It goes soaring into your drink with a quiet “Kobe” and you just give him a look. He smiles toothily right back at you. “Stop being cute, I’m trying to listen to your story.”

“Oh, my bad,” he mocks. “Anyways. That’s what I was like in highschool.” You fish the paper ball out of your water and flick it wetly at his arm. It sticks and you choke on a laugh, cheeks puffed.

Two plates of warm food are set down loudly onto the table and you thank the server with a surprised smile, Sapnap mirroring you.

Two minutes of wordless chewing passes, minds occupied just by “food, me eat” instead of anything related to your previous conversation. You realize that Sapnap is one of the loudest chewers ever, and he realizes that you fail to notice the streak of maple syrup in your hair.

“C’mere,” he mumbles through a mouthful of omelet and hash browns and beckons you with his hand. You lean closer, chewing slowly, as he pats a napkin at the strands of hair trapped in syrup.

“Thanks, baby.” You take the napkin from him and pause your assault of the warm french toast before you to clean the sticky sugar out of your hair. He just watches you, half of a smile on his lips.

You two finish your food in record time. It’s borderline vacuum-like. There’s a short grace period where you just sit like two lazy cats, slumped down in the booth and holding your full stomachs. But the check comes soon after, and you both pay your way and are out of the restaurant without any mad dashes for the bathroom. A miracle, really, because of the American-like amount of butter you both consume.

“I’m a much more functional person now,” you mutter into the cotton of his shoulder, swinging your hand in his. He just hums in agreement.

“I guess we’re not getting ice cream, then,” he teases, and you just groan in response.

“I don’t feel like having diarrhea on a plane, unfortunately.” You sigh heavily when you have to split and get into your respective sides of the rental car.

The entire trip (somewhat roundabout because of the amount of side quests to show you things from his childhood) to the airport Sapnap is a chatterbox. He’s like this when he has sugar: either bouncing off the walls with energy or talking your ear off.

“That’s where my dad proposed to my step-mom. I was kinda young but I remember being surprised at how big the ring was— dude broke the bank for her.” It’s a little gazebo you catch a glimpse of through the trees in a park. It probably was an incredibly picturesque moment, and you can sense how much she must have loved it. With just meeting them this weekend, you can already see how much love those two have for each other.

You hope people can see how much you love Sapnap.

“Oh my God, it’s still there.” He points out the side of your window to what looks like a Dairy Queen that has been through World War 3. “My buddy Eric and I once spilled a gallon of that liquid ice-cream-shit all over the men’s bathroom.”

You shoot him a horrified look. “Why was it in the bathroom?”

He just smirks.

“—And that’s my Uncle Ron’s house. Had my first beer there.”

“And last, hopefully,” you add, pulling a disgusted face. The two story bungalow is cute, and one of your favorite colors: olive green. “That shit is nasty.”

He just shrugs and continues down the side street.

“Is this the park you were talking about?”

He pulls into the gravelly parking lot of a small clearing of tall trees, a picnic table and campfire sat squat in the middle. But he doesn’t respond, just turning the car off and climbing out. He reaches the passenger door without speaking, and opens it for you. You climb carefully out, confused.

“Come on.” He takes your hand and starts for a small path to the left of the picnic table. The mid-sunset shade envelopes the both of you.

“I hope this isn’t where you kill me.”

“No,” he snorts. “I just wanted to show you something.”

It’s just a few moments of stumbling through the damp underbrush before you’re coming face to face with a small, mossy pond that sits right underneath an incredibly old willow tree. He stops right on the edge of the rocky path and turns toward you.

“This your make out spot?” You ask between a grin as he snakes an arm around your waist and tugs you flush to him. Your innocent smile fades when you feel the press of his lips to the side of your neck, light and ticklish. Oh.

“No,” he murmurs, and just breathes you in. “I came here once—the night before I graduated highschool. And I told myself when I really really loved someone I’d take them here with me.” He sways with you in his grasp, a gentle and song-less dance.

You grip his shoulder tighter in your hand and lean into him.

“That’s— awfully romantic, huh?” Your voice is quiet. Almost nervous. He just makes a noise of agreement.

“So here we are.” His voice is the opposite of yours, all strong and confident.

You two just move together for a moment. The sun breaks through the tree canopy, shining bright orange down onto the glassy surface of the pond. Crickets and frogs chirp back and forth as the willow vines swing in a cool evening breeze. You watch nature come alive around you, suddenly grateful for the man in your arms.

“Don’t propose,” you whisper, breaking the gentle tension. A laugh breaks the silence and he’s pulling away to look at you. Maybe in disbelief. A strand of hair falls into his eyes and you brush it away, fingers stilling on his temple and sliding down onto his cheek. Stubble scrapes against the skin of your palm and he stares at you through those meadow eyes.

You realize in that moment that he is exactly himself. Of course he is. He’s Sapnap, and everything that encompasses that. Dark and light and fiery and cool. He always has been, and always will be.

You realize you wouldn’t mind if he proposed.

-

A/N: ask or send me some stuff!! requests, rants, anything. let me know what you think

[captain-jensen]

Good Kisser, Bad Kisser

Chris Evans x Reader (smut)

Summary: You and Chris reminisce about a time when you were co-stars and things get heated

Authors note: I’ve seen comments about Chris possibly being a bad kisser based on watching him in movies and it inspired me

Warnings: 18+, unprotected sex (don’t be dumb),smut, manhandling kink, tiny bit of degradation, oral (m+f recieving),

        After grabbing a bottle of your favourite wine and some thai food you stand knocking on Chris’ front door. The door flings open and there he stands in a simple pair of sweats and a hoodie. “Finally! I’m starving, give me that” he rips the food out of your hands and makes a run for it towards the kitchen island. 

“Hi Chris! Good to see you too, it’s been a while” You say to yourself slightly annoyed that he hadn’t even thought to greet you. Nevertheless, you make your way inside and open your wine. After handing you a plate and a fork Chris pulls you into a tight hug. 

“Hey Y/N, it has been a while and I’ve missed you” He says, insinuating that he heard your sly comment at the door. You just giggle a bit and hug him back just as tightly. You guys separate and make your plates, opting to eat at the table. “So, how was filming?” he asks.

“It was good, nothing super special if I’m being honest though. The cast and crew were kind of boring and I didn’t even make any new friends” You respond forlornly. 

“Awe that’s the worst. To be fair though, I think I set the bar too high in terms of fun co-stars” He says with a cocky grin. 

“Well you’re not entirely wrong. I think you were the last real friend I’ve made on a set”

“It’s probably because I was the best kisser you’ve ever acted with” He claims, obviously deciding to stick with the prideful theme of jokes tonight. You can’t help but burst out laughing at this claim. Sure he wasn’t a horrible kisser but he wasn’t exactly the best either. Chris watches in bewilderment. “I’m sorry, did I say something funny?” he asks in mock exasperation. 

“Chris c’mon” you say through your de-escalating laughter. 

“No, what? What was so funny?”

“I just thought you were joking”

“Oh so you’re saying I wasn’t a good kisser?” 

“I mean I don’t really know about best but I’m not saying you were terrible” You try to defend yourself. 

“Well I guess that was a while ago. I mean we were in our 20s then. We’ve both changed a lot”

“Yeah you’re probably right. I’m sorry for laughing. I know I probably wasn’t the best either” you say. Now feeling bad because you might have actually hurt his feelings. 

“I don’t know. I thought you were pretty good” he responds shyly, not taking his eyes off of his food. 

“Well now I just feel bad” You say laughing.

“You don’t have to feel bad. I know for a fact I’ve gotten better since then”

“Well good for you then” you respond humorously.

“It’s just too bad that that’s your memory of me” he almost sounds actually sad. 

“It’s ok. I’m not exactly friends with you for your kissing ability. So it’s all good”

“It’s not all good. Let me show you that I’ve gotten better” He proposes.

“Um, what?” you ask taken aback. 

“Let me prove to you that I’m a good kisser now” he says again matter of factly. Clearly not understanding what has you so worked up. 

“Chris I’m not that worried about it believe me. I’m fine with the memory I have.” you say, trying to see if he was serious about this. 

“Well I’m not ok with it.” He definitely sounds serious. He stands up and walks toward you. He motions for you to stand, and despite your brains best efforts, your body obeys. He’s already standing so close to you, chest to chest. You apprehensively look up to him and see he’s already staring at you attentively. You glance at his lips quickly, and as soon as your eyes meet his again, his lips make contact with yours. This is undeniably a much different kiss than the one you had shared when you were basically kids. His lips move fervently across yours as he tilts his head and grabs the side of your face, deepening the kiss intensely. You can’t prevent the small whine that escapes the back of your throat, just like he can’t control the tightness of his sweats. He presses into you more, letting you feel every inch of him. Your hands move from their place on his arms to wind around the back of his neck. Grabbing the little hairs at the back of his head you subconsciously give a little tug and he groans deeply into your mouth, making your legs quiver. He guides you to the couch by your waist and sits you on his lap. You can feel his hands everywhere, roaming your body while his heat seeps into you and his mouth explores your chest. You moan and instinctively grind into his center. He rids you of your shirt and you do the same to him. His lips are around one of your nipples, one hand one one breast, and the other hand on your backside, gripping tightly. It’s like he’s scared you could be ripped from his arms as any second. You kiss behind his ear, finding his sweet spot making him release a guttural moan that shakes you to your core. After hearing that you’re sure he can feel your arousal seeping through your pants into his lap. It’s then though that you pull away to ask “Chris are you sure? I mean, you aren’t just trying to prove a point right?”.

“Baby I’ve honestly been thinking about this moment all these years”, he leans in close to your ear so you can feel his breath against your ear, making a shiver run down your spine. “I’ve always dreamt about how you’d feel against me like this, how I’d feel inside of you, how I’d feel tasting you”, in the midst of his beautiful speech, he catches you off guard and flips you on the couch so that you’re slightly angled off the couch. He kneels on the ground as he kisses his way down your body slowly. When he reaches the waistband of your pants he plants a dark mark on your skin, claiming you. He leaves trails of smaller marks down your thighs as he works your pants off. The slight bruising feeling of his bites matched with the roughness of his beard makes for a downright sinful feeling, matched by a sinful moan. He works his way back up your bare legs to your naked center. Placing small pecks mixed with small licks to your core he makes you a whimpering mess before he fully delves into your folds. He’s drinking you like a man who has been deprived of water his whole life. When he introduces a couple of fingers into your throbbing hole you fully lose it, coming undone within a matter of minutes. 

   Since you’ve fully turned into jelly around him, he effortlessly carries you to the bedroom, all but throwing you on the mattress. “Sorry to break it to you, but playtime is over now honey” you shudder at his words. You watch helplessly as he rids himself of his remaining clothes. As he goes to grab a condom, you stop him. “Just wait” You say, practically begging to taste him on your tongue. You pull yourself to a sitting position on the bed as he stands tall at the edge, already almost fully hard. You grab his length and stroke it a few times before giving him the same treatment of a small kiss at his tip and small licks to the underside of his shaft. His breathing becomes laboured as he watches you in awe when you take him into your mouth fully for the first time. You relax your throat and breath through your nose as you feel him hit the back of your throat. When you hollow your cheeks and moan around him he lets out a beautiful and deep moan. You work him for bit longer with a combination of your hand and mouth before he’s ripping you off of his cock and throwing you back on the bed. You gasp as your back hits the sheets but then you’re quickly being flipped over onto your stomach and he pulls your hips up. He’s working you like a doll, and you’ve never loved anything more. You feel him press himself against your back and say sensually but still firmly in your ear “I said playtime is over” you feel him rub his tip up and down your folds, collecting your arousal on his tip before he enters you. He wastes no time fully sheathing himself inside of you. He gives you but a second to adjust to him before his thrusting into you at an easy pace. Feeling every inch of him enter you again and again at such an agonizing speed starts to get to you and he notices you moving yourself against his shaft. “I had no idea you were so greedy baby. You’re having a hard time being patient aren’t you?” he asks in a demeaning tone. All you can do is mutter a pathetic little “please” while still trying to up the ante. He gets the hint and decides to give you what you want. Chris starts to move at a speed unlike anything you’ve had before. You’re certain your eyes roll to the back of your head while he pounds you endlessly into the mattress. You barely have the power to say “I’m cumming” by the time the wave hits you. All you can do is mix your obscene moan with the slapping and wet noises coming from between your bodies. Not long after hearing you and feeling you clench around him, Chris spills inside you with a groan of your name, which is almost enough to throw you again. He collapses onto your back, trying with all his might to keep his weight on his arms. You both stay like that for a second, with heaving breaths, sweaty skin, and rosy cheeks. When he finally exits you, you turn around to face him one his back. His one arm covers his eyes as he gives a light giggle and says “We completely forgot the condom”.

“Well technically you forgot the condom. But it’s ok, I’m on birth control” you slyly respond. 

“Well thank god for that, because I don’t think I could have stopped if the fate of the world depended on it” you both let out a chuckle as he pulls you into his side. “So?” he asks gazing down at you with post-orgasm bliss.

“So what?” you ask, still trying to gain back the ability to think straight.

“Have I gotten better at kissing?”

“Yeah, you could say that” You respond nonchalantly, peaking at him through one eye. 

“Well I’ve got all the time in the world to keep proving it to you” He says before getting up to get a cloth to clean you both up. As you watch him walk away you can’t help but think about what the rest of your nights are going to look like now.