#but I also really love his voice in the default

[meownotgood]

you guys know I love the machine herald so so much but after playing a bunch of games of the new viktor. oh my god his voice is so hot and his animations are so sexy and arcane savior is the best skin in the game. and I need him biblically

[bmpmp3]

with the vocaloid beta studio synth, nagi beta, i do hope they change his representational image someday. i dont mind vsynths having abstract boxart and designs and stuff, i like the dreamtonics letter people situation, i adore the hairstick and sword designs the vy's have, but man.

(put three of him so the post isnt too long LOL) this is just a tumblr image placeholder. this is a buffering error

[dollfacefantasy]

LITTLE BAMBI EYES ♡

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: how leon loves you so. his beautiful bride. he loves your sweet face and pretty eyes. he just can't understand why he loves to see both overcome with tears.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, blowjob, dacryphilia, daddy kink, age gap (20s, late 30s)

a/n: thank you to whoever requested this. i've been kinda missing daddy leon </3

kinktober slot: day 19 - dacryphilia

Sometimes you make Leon feel like a horrible person.

It's not anything you do or say. Nothing intentional on your part at all. Honestly, it's kind of just his default setting around you simply for the fact that you're wearing a ring on your finger that ties you to him for the rest of your life while also being over ten years younger than him.

You've told him over and over that it's not a big deal. This is the modern world, baby. He just has to get with the times. No one cares about the two of you, and even if they do, who gives a shit? You're a responsible adult, and the two of you love each other. That's all there is to it.

And while he tends to agree with your speeches in the moment, they don't completely erase the guilt from his subconscious. Though his feelings of unease would probably remain at that deeper level if not for days like today.

Today, Leon had arrived home from a mission. It had been a particularly long one, spanning almost a whole month. Nearly thirty days of waiting around and doing recon work, tasks that could've been done by those on a lower level of the government's hierarchy than him, before completing the objective. He was more than ready to come home to you. The longing to see your face again, to hear your voice, it was practically a physical ailment at this point.

The moment he came through the door you were there. You latched onto him and wouldn't let go. He had to drop his stuff by the entryway so he could scoop you up and carry you to the nearest chair in the living room.

He sits down with you in his lap, allowing you to smother him in kisses and fuss over how he looks so tired. But what makes him feel so awful, what causes the gnawing ache that festers in his chest in regards to your relationship is when he sees your eyes begin to grow misty.

It starts with watery eyes and then your voice cracks and you can barely get a word out before you're whimpering and tucking your face into the crook of his neck. You cry and cry about how you were so worried and you missed him so much and you never want him to leave you again.

The whole thing makes him feel guilty on a surface level. He never wants to make his pretty little wife cry. He doesn't want her going sick with worry because of him. But the other layer of this thing that truly makes him feel like something is wrong with him comes from the fact that your display of emotion gets him hard.

He tries with everything he has to stop it. He's not even sure what it really is about it that gets him going like this. In his mind, he tries to rationalize that he just finds it sweet that you miss him. It's just cute, it's not something he needs to agonize over. He doesn't really know, but also when the blood starts rushing South, he doesn't really care.

You sniffle and tighten your arms around his torso while he coos at you and rubs your back. He hushes you gently while adjusting in his seat to make sure you don't feel the swell of his bulge just yet. Sure, he's turned on by your tears, but that doesn't make him inconsiderate. He lets you get most of it out first before trying anything else.

"Shh, shh, shh. It's ok. I'm right here, baby. I made it home safe and sound like always," he murmurs against your hairline, "There's no reason to cry, I don't want you wasting any tears on me."

He swipes away those small droplets of water with his thumb before directing you to look up at him. Your expression makes him smile. Despite their sadness, your eyes gleam with so much love. Your lip wobbles with all the care that pumps through your beating heart.

"So emotional," he teases softly, "C'mon, sweetheart, gimme a kiss. Let me make it better."

Without hesitation, you lean in. He smirks against your lips, cupping your cheek and guiding you in the exchange. It's the opening he needs to make things seem natural. He can act like he's just so pent up from being away that a few kisses got him hot under the collar. Not that he popped a boner as soon as he saw tears pooling against your lash line.

It works. You scoot closer and feel the stiff length graze your thigh. It'd been a long time since you'd had him too. Feeling that familiar hardness against your soft flesh is all it takes for explicit ideas to begin blooming in your mind.

Before he knows it, you're on your knees between his legs. Your lips slide up and down his cock, gliding the shaft into your warm, wet mouth down to your throat. His head tilts back against the sagging cushion of his chair. He pets the crown of your head while you work, wordless appreciation for your efforts.

A deep sigh leaves him as your tongue traces along the veins. You get a groan out of him for flicking your tongue at the ridge. After a few more sucks, you pull off and stroke him instead. 

He hears a soft sniffle. His eyes snap down to you on the floor, and he realizes that you're still crying. A moan bubbles up in his throat. He tries to stifle it, but parts of it still break free.

"Hey, hey. What- what's wrong? You ok?" he chokes out, trying to sound normal and not like he's about to lose it.

You nod while looking up at him with those glossy eyes. Your hand doesn't stop pumping him as tears roll down your cheeks.

"I just missed you so much," you whimper.

Your knuckles graze your cheek. The duality of your cute, tear-streaked face next to your skilled hand jerking him off is nearly too much to take in.

"I'm right here," he says, trying to offer comfort, "I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere."

"Yeah, but you don't get it. I just missed you," you cry again. Another few drops fall as you blink and your lip quivers.

In a way, Leon does understand. It's not that you're currently upset, it's just lingering feelings causing your emotions to act up a bit. He doesn't have a problem with it regardless of the cause though. Not if this is the result.

You go back in to suckle the tip. Your lips wrap around him in a little, perfect 'o.' It feels like you've come straight from heaven to do this for him. He doesn't think it can get any better until you look up at him. Seeing your eyes full of tears while you pleasure him is a whole other kind of sensation.

Hissing in ecstasy, he knows for certain now that he can't last that. He gently guides your mouth off before yanking you up into his lap.

"Can't have you crying like that, honey. Let daddy make it better," he mutters while tugging your shorts down and haphazardly working them off of you.

You help him out and shimmy your panties down too before lining his cock up at your entrance and sinking down. The whole month since you'd last taken it was worth it now. You bounce up and down, letting the familiar filling sensation seep in.

Cries pour from your lips openly, and his eyes roll back. His hands rest on your hips with a loose grip. The touch is present enough to offer the illusion that he's helping.

"Feels so good," you whimper.

"Does it, baby? Just what you were missing, huh?" he rasps.

You nod quickly as your body rises and falls. He feels you squeezing around him, your walls fluttering each time he splits you open.

Once he's calmed down a bit, he starts to rock his hips upwards against yours. He drives himself a little deeper inside you, nudging all the spots you weren't hitting before. You tilt forward and put your head back against his throat like you'd had it earlier.

"That's right. Keep crying for me," he grunts as he picks up his own pace a bit, "Let daddy hear how much you missed him."

Another sob tumbles from you as if prompted by the command. He holds you close and rubs your back like this is a normal method of soothing you. Tears leak out against his throat, trickling down to his collarbone. He can feel the warm liquid and the brush of your eyelashes on his sensitive skin.

"My good girl. Daddy's got you," he sighs.

He pounds up into you with a few more thrusts. The rock of his hips slides his pelvis against your clit, working you towards the end. You whimper and cling to him, arms wrap around his shoulders with the strength of a vise.

"So pretty when you're all weepy for me," he murmurs.

His hands tighten around your waist, actually keeping you in place now for him to thrust into. He grits his teeth. The sensation in the pit of his stomach lets him know he's close to the edge too.

"Fuck... you close, angel?" he asks.

You nod, still not lifting your head from the safety of his shoulder.

The response is good enough for him though. He can feel you clamping around him. Every stroke elicits a wet squelch from between your bodies. You're gushing for him, ready to explode. Tears pour from your eyes in a seemingly endless supply.

"Let me have it. Don't hold back," he directs in a strained tone while creeping to the high himself.

He thrusts in deep and slams you down on him before spilling his load inside you. The sensation brings you to your peak and rips another cry from you. You hiccup out a moan between the sobs. Your nails dig into his shoulders while your body shudders. Even though you'd only cum once, it feels like everything is overloaded.

His hips continue to move, fucking his release into you and working you through the waves of euphoria. 

"Fuck-" he hisses, "That's my girl. Fuck, you're my girl. My baby. So good for me."

His fucked out words hit your ears and get you feeling all loopy. Your head stays against his shoulder, content to rest there while he takes what he needs. A few more tears slide out against your silken skin.

Your body feels limp on top of his by the time you're both through it. He feels boneless too, sunken into his seat while catching his breath.

You're still crying a little bit. He can hear it right by his ear. To get more comfortable, he reaches down and pulls the lever that causes the chair to recline. It pushes you fully against his body and lets him hold you better. His fingers trace little circles on the small of your back while his other arm drapes across your shoulder blades.

"I missed you too, baby," he whispers with a small kiss to your head.

[bbyquokka]

drunk

– jeongin is drunk - in more ways than one .ᐟ.ᐟ

pairing | yang jeonging x fem reader

genre | established relationship , smut – 18+ is strongly advised!

cw | jeongin is drunk , explicit language , face sitting , oral (f rec) , breast play , masturbation (m) , face riding , 'girl' is used , unprotected penetration

words | 2.7k ~ ( 2,776 )

notes | another piece i wrote when i went on a break! i dont write for jeongin enough :( i hope u all enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it!

m.list — tag list — you can also read it on my ao3

dont repost. dont translate. minors, ageless & default blogs; dni! feedback and reblogs are highly advised and appreciated!

soft grunts and groans from beside you fill the space of the car you're currently driving.

the streets are somewhat quiet. the headlights from cars passing by blinding you but the night is calm and quiet which, for a saturday, is unusual.

what's even more unusual is for you to be driving around in your boyfriend's expensive car, with him being drunk and groaning in the passenger seat. his eyes closed as his temple rests against the cold glass of the window, providing some cooling relief to his sweat coated skin.

jeongin, chan, seungmin and hyunjin decided that tonight's the night that they’d go out and have a ‘lads night.’

you don't mind jeongin going out. you trust that he (and his friends) will care and look out for one another. you trust that, when one has one too many, they will stop it from becoming a disaster.

and that is the case for you.

jeongin can handle his drink–to some extent. chan texted you urging you to pick up your not-so sober boyfriend from the club, claiming that jeongin has had one too many shots and alcohol his body can handle.

“feels good.” you stop at a red light to look at your hazy boyfriend. his usual well-kempt hair is disheveled. a beautiful pink haze sits pretty on his glowy, sweat stained skin.

��what feels good, baby?”

“i love you, you know that right?” he mumbles, ignoring your question. you laugh softly and nod.

“i know. i love you too.”

“really?” he lifts his head up from the cold glass, his eyes wide and glistening, like a love sick puppy.

“really. forever and always, remember.” jeongin nods and leans over, hooking his long pinky finger with yours.

“pinky promise.”

“pinky promise.” you repeat with a smile. jeongin sits back in his seat, a grin adorning his facial features and making his eyes crinkle at the corners.

“i’m one lucky man, yn. i’m the luckiest man in this entire world! no.. wait, galaxy!” as the red light switches to green, you start to drive as you listen to your loved one babble on with himself.

after a few minutes of babbling, it falls silent. the only sound is the roar of the car engine and passing vehicles. you think nothing of the silence, until a few small breathy pants ring in your ears.

maybe he is sleeping? is your first thought until you hear a low, guttural grunt. your ears perk up at the sound. you quickly glance to the side. you can only see jeongin slouching in his seat, his head hanging low with his chin tucked into his chest, hair hiding his face.

you focus on the road. the roads may be quiet but that's no excuse to act stupid.

“hurts.” jeongin pants, his voice strained a little. you panic a little.

“what hurts, baby?”

“yn.. it hurts.” he mumbles. he looks up at you to catch your gaze but you keep your eyes on the road. “yn.. help me. please.”

his usual soft voice is now laced with desperation; like he is begging for you.

“tell me what hurts, darling.” is it his stomach? he is drunk after all, so maybe he needs you to pull over.

“help me.” he begs, on the verge of tears. you drive to a nearby car park, shutting off the engine and taking off your belt.

you look at jeongin. the pink haze has now turned red, spreading to his ears. his eyes are hazy and glassy. lips glistening from the saliva.

“baby.. are you ok?” you lean over to him, placing your hand on his thigh gently. he tenses under your touch. 

“hurting.” he repeats. his breathing slowly becoming short and laboured.

“your stomach? if you need to throw up, it's ok to baby.” you squeeze his thigh as reassurance but that causes jeongin to let out a soft grunt and tense more under your hand.

“no.” he huffs, his patience running very thin. “it hurts.” you stare at him, utterly confused. with a huff, jeongin grabs your hand that's on his thigh and places it on his crotch.

“oh. oh!” his cock is straining against the rough material of his black jeans. he bucks his hips in the palm of your hand for some sort of friction but it's not enough to suffice and feed this hunger he has. “why.. how?”

“i..i dont know. i just… looked at you and now i feel so hot and bothered.” his chest rises up and down fast. he squirms in his seat, pulling at the fabric of his shirt as a way of saying ‘get it off me’

“i want to see you.” his eyes scan you, undressing and eating you up. you feel bashful and aware of his prying eyes. he takes his seatbelt off and struggles to unbuckle the belt of his own jeans. “take them off.”

“excuse me?” you stutter. 

“take them off. your pants. off. please. i want to see you, yn.”

“we're in public, jeongin. anyone can see us!” you stumble over your words.

“the windows are tinted.” he states. an argument you lose in an instant. you can't deny, however, that his request has left you feeling a little tingly in the pit of your stomach. “please.”

you nod, giving in to him; as always. you take off your pants, throwing them to the side. jeongin watches you, eyes never leaving you as he licks his lips hungrily.

“c’mer.” rough hands grab your waist and pull you onto his lap. you have no option but to situate your legs on either side of him. his large hands reach behind you to grab the soft flesh of your ass.

“mhm.. missed you.” he murmurs as he massages, squeezes and plays with your ass cheeks. you chew your bottom lip gently, your body twitching every now and then. he buries his head in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent. more guttural groans erupt from the back of his throat as he takes in mouthfuls of your scent. “smells good”

“we should go home. you're drunk.” you say in an attempt to stop him. 

“’m fine.” he states. “just want to touch you some more, that's all.” his lips start to pepper kisses along the skin of your neck. they’re soft and gentle at first, but they’re quick to turn into hot, wet open mouth kisses where he leaves behind marks in the form of purple bruises and teeth.

“then can we go home?” you struggle to say due to you slowly losing your composure as jeongin attacks you sweet spots. his large hands playing and fondling with your ass cheeks, occasionally disappearing under the fabric of your t-shirt to stroke your growing hot skin.

“maybe. or maybe i’ll just devour you right here, right now.” he purrs. you shuffle on his lap to get comfy, your core throbbing and stomach tingling. your fingers dig into his shoulder blades as a way to help ground yourself.

“devour me? how?” you play dumb. your body tingles with pleasure. your core is throbbing and you can feel your slick being soaked up by your panties, creating an embarrassing wet spot.

“like this.” his seat falls back, taking you with him. in one swift moment, he manhandles you onto his face so you're straddling him. his large hands on your thighs, gripping them with force.

“baby!” you peer down at your hazy boyfriend, his head between your legs. you feel his breath fanning against your clothed core, the dampness in your panties intensifying with each puff of air.

“what?” he says nonchalantly. 

“you're unbelievable!” you squeak in embarrassment. the lewd position you're in makes you feel bashful; even though it's not your first time like this with him but it is a first in public.

“and you smell good.” he groans. his long finger trails from your thigh, to your inner thigh and to your clothed core. he presses his finger against your core, against the wet patch on the fabric and hums in satisfaction.

“you're wet.” he states, feeling somewhat cocky and proud. “i haven't done anything and you're wet.”

“s-shut up! you don't have to state it. gosh, this is so embarrassing.” you whine.

“not embarrassing. hot. so fucking hot. you have no idea the effect you have on me, yn.” he peers up at you, his foxlike eyes boring into your soul. he turns his head slightly, planting open mouth kisses on your inner thigh, closing in on your core.

he runs his finger in between your folds, adding a bit of pressure when his finger bumps against your now swollen clit. with each bump, your thighs jerk and twitch. jeongin can feel you throb against his finger.

his own cock throbs at the sight, touch and smell of you. it's begging to be free–and it will be in due time.

“wanna taste.” he mumbles as he hooks his finger on one side of your panties and pulls the flimsy fabric to the side. if it wasn't for his patience being paper thin, he would’ve ripped them off you. the very sight and smell of you is driving him insane and it hurts. the cold air mixes and hits your slick folds, making you gasp. “holy fuck.” 

you watch your hazy boyfriend lick his lips as if he is about to devour a meal. he brings your hips forward a little more. you buck at the sudden contact of his warm and wet tongue being pressed against your cunt.

“j-jeongin.” you moan out softly. he grabs the hem of your t-shirt, bringing it up to your lips.

“hold this.” he instructs against your folds. you bite down on your t-shirt, the fabric rises up and exposes your soft stomach and breasts.

his tongue is back on your cunt, lapping your slick and core like a dog lapping up water. he sucks and kisses your clit, rubbing the swollen bud occasionally with the tip of his tongue.

he grips onto your ass, pulling you down on his face more. you worry that you might crush him and try to resist but his strength overpowers you. 

hot open mouth kisses on your cunt. jeongin slurping and panting like a dog in heat. his hips bucking in the air as he eats you, gathering your slick on his tongue. he whimpers and moans at the taste, his rough hands keeping all your weight on his face as you crush his skull.

your legs tense around him several times. his tongue slips between your folds and into your core. jeongin is a mess. a panting, pussy drunk mess as he tongue fucks your core until you’re sobbing. 

once confident that you’re going to keep all your weight on him, he removes his hands from your ass. his large hands slide up the softness of your stomach to under your breasts where he grabs them roughly, one in each hand, to squeeze and toy with them.

your moans are muffled by your t-shirt. a damp patch forming from your saliva as you struggle to keep the fabric between your lips. your hands have found their way to jeongin's hair, pulling and tugging at the strands.

the air in the car is thick. the windows misting over with condensation. you don't want to be loud but you want to be at the same time.

the thrill of knowing that you're in public, having you pussy eaten by your boyfriend who is completely pussy drunk and fucked out because of you makes you tingle.

one of jeongin's hands leaves your breast to reach behind you. you hear him fumbling with his jeans, struggling to unbutton and unzip them. he grunts in frustration before lifting his hips up to pull down his jeans and underwear halfway down his thighs.

he shivers as his hand wraps around the base of his throbbing cock. he squeezes a few times before rubbing his thick, veiny cock. he treats himself by rubbing his pink head with his thumb, smearing the over flowing pre cum around his sensitive head.

he's a mess. you're a mess. his chin and lips are coated in saliva and slick. your body is hot and coated in sweat. the stimulation of everything is too much for you. you feel light and woozy but you don’t want the pleasure to stop. jeongin tries to time the strokes of his hand with the thrusts of his tongue inside you but he fails quickly, becoming uncoordinated and sloppy.

“not gonna last long. ’m sensitive.” he mumbles. you nod, unable to speak as you feel the same. your stomach is tight, a knot forming very quickly. his tongue leaves your hole to lick between your folds, his nose bumping against your clit.

you're just a sobbing mess. tears spilling for the corners of your eyes. your thighs crushing his skull. hands not knowing where to be placed for stability so you settled with one hand on the roof of the car and the other on the window, leaving a handprint behind in the condensation.

your only thought is how much (and how badly) you want to cum.

jeongin is no different. his cock is hot to the touch. tip sensitive and begging to be inside you. his hand isn't enough for him to feel satisfied and he knows it, but he wants to wait until he gets home to have his way with you.

“close.” he groans. as you open your mouth to talk, your t-shirt falls back down.

“m-me too.. oh fuck, me too.” you kick your head back, succumbing to the pleasure. you rock your hips a little on jeongin's face, a smirk on his face as he watches you lose yourself in the pleasure he's providing.

“you're so fucking hot, yn. look at you riding my face like a good girl.” his words are muffled but it's loud enough for you to hear. you can't respond however, just nod and moan at his words..

“feels good. feels so good, baby. wanna cum.”

“want to cum on my face? make a mess outta me?”

“yes. i do. want to make a mess on you.” you beg.

“go ahead. do it. cum for me, yn.” the coil in your stomach tightens and snaps. your thighs shake as your orgasm hits you hard, knocking the air out of your lungs and making you see stars. you cry out his name like a mantra, jeongin lapping at your core to catch your essence that spills from you.

his hand picks up in pace before soon, his own hips buck and cock throbs as he cums onto his own hand and stomach. slow, languid strokes of his cock to help ride out his high as he licks you clean before the high subsides; leaving you both breathless and exhausted.

you lift yourself up and off his face the best your jelly legs can muster. you look down at him, shivering as that look in his eyes from earlier is still there.

“we need to go home. now.” he instructs in urgency.

“are you ok?” 

“no. i’m not. it still hurts, yn.” you look behind you to see his hand still stroking his cock, which has failed to go soft from his orgasm; but now it's angry. sticky sounds emit from his cock as he uses his own mess to stroke himself.

“jeongin…” you start only to be cut off.

“yn. i don't think you understand the urgency of my situation. if you don't drive home right this second, i am going to drag you onto my lap and fuck you until you can't walk in the morning.” 

you swallow at his words. they go straight to your core. 

“that.. doesn't sound like a bad idea..” you mumble, looking at your, now somewhat sober, boyfriend.

“i don't think you un–”

“no, i understand.” you mumble, removing his hand from his cock. you shimmy down to line yourself up, holding the base and rubbing his tip between your soaked folds. “and i don't mind. we've come this far, so why stop now?”

“...fuck.” he holds onto your waist as you slowly lower yourself onto his member. his size stretches you, and because of your earlier orgasm, you're tighter than usual. 

he hisses as he shieths himself in your tight cunt. the warmth and tightness makes him stop breathing for a nanosecond. he watches his length disappear and become encapsulated with delicious warmth.

“just know–hng, fuck!–just know that you can't go back on your words. it's going to be a long night for you, yn.”

[writer-freak]

Foreplay | Lads x gn reader

Characters: Rafayel, Sylus, Zayne, Xavier and Caleb

Warnings: SMUT foreplay duh, talks of guys going down on you and using their fingers, no specific genitalia mentioned though, still not sure how to write Caleb, english isn't my first language

A/n: So after seeing the trailer for Caleb I needed to write something (even though I don't have a proper grasp of his character yet). I wasn't sure how to write Caleb so I wrote him a little sweeter but maybe I will change my mind about that when he's actually out. <3

Rafayel

When it comes to foreplay, Rafayel is the perfect man. He loves when he has the upper hand, but there’s also his more submissive side that often shines through, like every touch is deliberate, as if he’s worshiping you with his hands and mouth. And while he’s obsessed with going down on you (it’s no secret it’s his favorite) there’s this perfect tension when you take the upper hand.

He can be a tease though, and he’s so good at it it’s almost unfair. He’ll start slow, trailing kisses along your thighs, his lips brushing your skin just enough to leave you aching for more. His teeth graze sensitive spots, pulling soft gasps from you as he watches, completely transfixed by every reaction you give him. He lives for the way you squirm and arch under him, dragging things out until you’re practically begging for him to give in.

But when you flip the script? That’s when Rafayel’s sub side shines through. He’ll let you take the lead, let you tease him, his breath hitching as your touch makes him falter. He tries to hold back, biting his lip as you test his limits, but when you push him too far, the control he clings to tends to snap. His hands grip your thighs, and his mouth moves like he’s starving, lips and tongue working you over like you’re the only thing he needs to live.

And then his fingers join in, they curl just right, dragging you higher and higher as his mouth continues. Every gasp or moan of his name drives him wild, and he smiles with pure satisfaction, like he knows exactly how good he’s making you feel. And the truth is? He does.

Sylus

Sylus is such a tease, it’s basically his default setting. He’s playful, always grinning like he knows exactly how close you are to losing it, and he lives for that moment when you finally do. For him, foreplay isn’t just a warm-up, it’s the main event. He’s patient, too languid, deliberate touches that seem almost lazy until you realize every single one is perfectly aimed to drive you wild.

He’ll start light, his fingers barely grazing your skin as he traces over your body like he’s memorizing every inch of you. And the way he circles around your most sensitive spots without quite giving you what you want? Maddening. He eats it up, watching the way your body reacts, testing what makes you shudder or gasp, like he’s studying you and enjoying the hell out of it.

His voice is part of the whole act, too. It’s low and smooth, wrapping around you as he leans in close, whispering filthy promises and details about exactly what he’s going to do next, his breath warm against your ear, sending chills down your spine.

When he finally decides to really go for it, it’s a total game-changer. His fingers plunge deep, curling just right, stroking that spot that makes you forget how to breathe. And he stays right there with you, lips brushing yours, swallowing every moan and gasp like he can’t get enough of the sounds you make. Sylus isn’t just about getting you off, it’s the way he unravels you, slowly, that he seems to love the most.

Zayne

Zayne is more about the slow burn, the build-up that makes every second feel electric. He loves the tension, the way your breathing shifts, the hunger that builds between you. For him, foreplay is a lot of kissing and touching, his hands are everywhere, mapping you out as his mouth claims yours like it’s the only thing that matters.

He’s deliberate, maddeningly so, his touch slow and sensual as he explores every inch of you. His fingers trace over your curves, his lips following close behind, leaving heat in their wake. And when he starts to stretch you open, his gaze locks on yours, watching every shiver and arch like it’s his favorite show. He drinks in the way your body reacts, and there’s this silent intensity to him, like he’s completely focused on you, on making sure you feel every ounce of pleasure he’s giving you.

Zayne knows exactly what he’s doing, and he’s relentless about it. One second, he’s teasing you with featherlight touches that leave you squirming, and the next, his fingers are deep, stroking you in a way that makes your mind go blank. He knows how to keep you teetering on the edge, gasping for air, your body begging for release even if you’re too wrecked to say the actual words.

The best part for him? Knowing he’s the one unraveling you. He doesn’t just want you to fall apart, he wants to watch, feel it, be the reason you lose control over and over again. And when you do, there’s this satisfied look in his eyes, like he’s just claimed another victory.

Xavier

Xavier is the kind of guy who makes foreplay almost feel like an art form. He’s focused, deliberate, and painfully thorough in all the best ways. He loves taking his time, starting slow as he lavishes attention on every inch of you, leaving no spot untouched. His touch is precise, his kisses soft and lingering, like he’s savoring every moment and determined to make it last.

His favorite? Using his mouth on you. At first, he’s unhurried, his tongue and fingers moving together in perfect rhythm, his control almost annoying as he builds your pleasure in slow waves. He watches every reaction, focused on every little shiver, every soft gasp, like he’s reading your mind and knows exactly what you need before you do.

But then there is a shift. The way your body responds, the way you gasp his name, the way your hips buck against him, it does something to him. Sweet and controlled turns hungry and desperate, his focus crumbling as he gives in to the way you’re turning him on. His grip tightens, his movements grow faster, more insistent, like he can’t hold back anymore.

He’s relentless now, his tongue and fingers working you over with an intensity that leaves you trembling, his soft groans muffled against your skin as if he’s as wrecked by this as you are. The connection between you is electric, and he’s completely lost in it, completely driven by the way you fall apart under him.

And when you’re left spent and shaking, Xavier looks at you with this mix of pride and satisfaction, his own breathing ragged. There’s nothing cocky about it, just this certainty that he’s not finished with you.

Caleb

Caleb our newest guy has that mix of curiosity and raw hunger that he brings. There’s this energy about him, like he’s as fascinated by how your body reacts as he is turning you on. He loves using his mouth, taking his time to explore every inch of you like he’s discovering something new. But his favorite? Teasing you until you’re begging for him to take control.

He starts slow, his hands barely brushing your skin, just enough to make you shiver and squirm, desperate for more. His kisses follow the same rhythm, soft and teasing at first, but then they deepen, turning hungrier with each one. He’ll find those sensitive spots and graze them with his teeth, loving the way it pulls those sharp little gasps from your lips.

And when his fingers finally slide between your thighs? It’s game over. Caleb doesn’t hold back, his touch relentless as he builds you up, orgasm after orgasm, until you’re a complete wreck beneath him. He’s close, always close, his lips brushing your neck, nipping at your skin just enough to leave a mark, his voice low and rough in your ear. “I want to hear you fall apart for me,” he murmurs, and the way he says it makes your whole body respond, like you couldn’t deny him even if you wanted to.

For Caleb, it’s about learning every inch of you, watching you lose yourself under his touch, and knowing he’s the one who got you there.

Divider by: @anitalenia

Hope you enjoyed <3

[theplotdemandsit]

When Five finally makes it back home with his siblings, finally makes it back to the right timeline, he finds he’s still holding his breath. 

“Is it really over?” He thinks out loud. 

“I guess there’s only one way to find out,” comes Luther’s response. 

So they do. And everything seems…normal?

But as much as Five wants to sleep for ten days straight, he can’t help but feel on edge. He spends his time visiting each sibling, popping in for dinners or briefly making sure they haven’t felt anything out of the ordinary. One day Allison asks him if he actually wants there to be an approaching apocalypse. His eyes fall onto Claire who’s catching him up on High School Musical the Musical the Series.

“No,” he answers. “I really don’t.” 

They make time for family dinners every Sunday. They still bicker and maybe swing some fists every now and then, but everyone is fast to apologize and laugh again. With room to breathe again without high stakes, the hurt finally begins to heal. They had been family before, but it slowly begins to feel like a real family. 

And for the first time, they really get to know each other. For all the crap they gave Luther about the moon, they listen as he shares the misery and loneliness and betrayal he felt. Allison describes her time as a Black woman in the 60s without her voice. Literally. Viktor tells them about what it was like growing up powerless only to end the world twice. How he lost his memory and found the one he loved only to lose that too. 

Klaus manifests Ben (who is still a ghost but as alive as he could get) and together they tell of their adventures growing up and the cult Klaus accidentally created. In between laughs, they also learn about Klaus’s harrowing experiences with drugs and death.

And Five? He has over 40 years of stories, and at first he doesn’t want to share any of it. His time in the Apocalypse, his time in the Commission, murdering for the sole purpose of survival in order to get back to his family—it’s not a side to him he wants his family to know about. 

But at the same time for reasons he can’t explain, he does want them to know. For the first time, he wants to talk to his family, the family he worked tirelessly to save. 

Little by little, he does just that. Every now and then he will start a sentence with, “Back in the Apocalypse…,” during dinner or his visits with them. Silly ones at first, like the time he had the nasty Twinkie. The time he sang all the Beatles songs he could remember and pretended he was having a concert. The time he found Umbrella Academy action figures and reenacted missions with them. 

When it’s just him and another sibling, he starts sharing some of the hard stuff too.

He tells Allison how he starved during his first winter alone and hallucinated that she had helped him find food. When he woke up he found himself in a storage house full of canned goods and bawled his eyes out.

He tells Diego about the first time he killed someone. How the scariest thing was that he wasn’t shaking. 

He tells Viktor how he sometimes still wonders if he deserves everything he got for messing with time in the first place. How he’s afraid that one of these days he’ll wake up and be alone again.

He tells Klaus about the time he thought about giving up and ending it all. 

He tells Luther about Dolores. About how even though he knew he was crazy for talking to a mannequin, Dolores was the better part of him that salvaged his sanity.

He tells Ben (and Klaus, by default) that his biggest regret is not being there. That he tries not to think about how things might have been different if he’d stayed.

Slowly, slowly, bit by bit, the tension eases from his shoulders. He stops worrying so much about the world ending and how to keep everyone alive. Instead, he spends his time going to the park with Claire, helping Diego and Lila with the babies, having midnight food outings with Klaus, and listening to Viktor play his music.

At their weekly family dinner, Luther tells Five he has a present for him and pulls out a box of Twinkies, saying, “I know you want to try one.”

Five gives him a practiced glare and says, “I would rather swim in a pot of boiling oil.”

Before, his family might have stared at him like he grew two heads, but now they laugh and think his retort is hilarious. Luther opens the box and pulls out a bag of marshmallows instead, and Five can’t help but crack a smile. 

One day they ask him what his plans are—what’s next for the oldest sibling.

Five warms his hands on a hot mug of coffee. “I’m tired of thinking about the future,” he tells them. “Right now, I just want to spend time with my family.”

That earns him plenty of “aww”s and “You’re such a softie, Five.” He waves them away and tries to duck out of their hugs, but they get him in the end. And even if he could teleport, he doesn’t want to.

He hadn’t been looking for happy, but he found it anyway.

Now cross-posted on Ao3 under the same handle!

[amomentsescape]

Yandere slashers and sinclair brothers with a reader that is pregnant and therfore much more clingy and cuddly and emotionally attached?

Yandere! Slashers with Reader That is Pregnant and Super Clingy

Yandere! Slashers x Reader (Separate)

Includes: Freddy, Michael, Jason, Thomas, Bubba, Brahms, Norman, Billy, Stu, Vincent, Bo, & Lester

Warnings: Typical Yandere behavior, pregnancy of course

A/N: I hope you enjoy! Also, starting today, I will be including the Sinclair brothers in ALL future Slasher requests by default!

Freddy Krueger

Ah, he knew you'd come around

Even just hearing your voice has him sprinting to you, wanting nothing more than to tend to you

Seeing you reach out and ask for his affection leaves him with the biggest grin you've ever seen

Won't give you any time alone either

Wherever he is, you are

Will rub his hand over your growing stomach whenever he holds you

Just know now that you've given him a taste of what it's like to be wanted, he's not going to let you change that even once you have the baby

Michael Myers

He will complain about this newfound clinginess of yours

He enjoyed when you were more standoffish, and he had to force you to give him the attention he desired

Things feel just a little too easy now

He just hopes things will go back to how they were before once you have the child

Although, there still won't be much time alone with a baby crying all the time

But he misses the old you

It's why he took you in the first place

Jason Voorhees

God, why couldn't it be like this all of the time?

He actually feels needed and desired in a way that he didn't before

Hearing you call for him and feeling you squished against his side makes him even happier about you being pregnant (if that's even possible)

Will silently thank your full belly every night while you're sleeping, grateful that you need him so much

He really hopes this affection for him grows along with your stomach

He needs you, and now you need him

It's exactly what he wanted

Thomas Hewitt

He is almost unable to keep up with your demands, but God does he love it

You can call him names, scream at him, do whatever you want if it means he gets to hold you like this all of the time

Will rub your feet, spoon you, and massage your back if your heart desires

Will constantly check in on you

Hell, he has barely left the house for the last couple weeks

Not only because he wants to take care of you

He just enjoys how much attention you're giving him

And he wants to soak it all up while he has the chance

Bubba Sawyer

You've never seen him so happy and giggly before

Every single smile or touch you give him sends him into a fit of bubbly energy

But if you give him a little, he takes it to a lot

A simple hug will have him rolling you over and squeezing you like your life depended on it

A kiss on the cheek has him pressing his lips on every square inch of your skin

Thankfully, you don't mind right now

Any other person would find it to be overbearing, but you can't help but relish in it

He hopes this will never change and will only increase once the baby is born

Brahms Heelshire

He loves the constant affection

There's no limit to this man on how much you can give him

But he can't help the slight feeling of dread that pools in his stomach

He knows the pregnancy is aiding in this change

And he fears that once the baby is born, all attention towards him will be put towards the child or will disappear altogether

He can send himself into fits of rage just by thinking too much about this situation

Be gentle with him, and it will all be fine

But now that you've given him a taste of what he so desperately desires, there's no way you can go back

He will never let you

Norman Bates

Any single look or word you say to Norman has him flushing the darkest shade of red you've ever seen

His stuttering increases, he finds himself clumsier than usual, and he can barely sleep at night

He acts like a little boy with a crush

And the fact that you're carrying his child only increases that giddy feeling inside of him

He's still hesitant to initiate anything with you, but he will never say no to you if you ask him for anything

He feels so happy, like his dreams are coming true

He can't wait for you all to be a little family

And if this is what it's like whenever you're pregnant...

He's going to want a big family

Billy Loomis

Billy likes a challenge, but now you're just giving in so easily

He can't say he doesn't mind it though

He may act all cool and tough about you being so clingy with him, but there's a part of him that loves having you depend on him

He's your lover and provider

He likes it this way

But the moment you seem just the slightest bit off, he is going in on you, starting arguments and making accusations that aren't even true

So be careful where you tread

You've ignited something in him, and he likes it

Stu Macher

This works out for Stu because knowing you're carrying his child also brings out his clingy and affectionate side

It's like being one and the same, always seeming to call out for each other at the same time

He's a big foodie, so you bet he'll always bring you your favorite snacks

He might even become more comfortable and let you out in public with him occasionally

He thrives off of your attention

Will talk to your belly and say how lucky they've made him

Becomes the tiniest bit delusional and believes that you won't ever leave him now

Not that you really wanted to, but if you did, he would never let you

Vincent Sinclair

Your sudden increase in attention has Vincent all bashful

Will immediately become more shy but loves every second of it

Will beg on his knees if you ask him to

He's willing to go to literally any length to make you (and the baby) happy

Will lay and spend time with you for however long you ask

He's also big into getting you food and drinks that you're craving

As long as you hug him and tell him just how much you love him, he'll do anything for you

Bo Sinclair

He has mixed feelings about the sudden change in your neediness

It does boost his ego quite a bit and makes him feel like you really need him

You're just so helpless so of course he needs to help you

But at the same time, he's a bit annoyed

He has plenty of things to do

Spending 24/7 with you and giving you affection all the time isn't his thing

It all depends on what mood you catch him in

If he's feeling good, you being clingy doesn't bother him

But if he's already irritated, you being all over will only make it worse

Just tread carefully around him

Lester Sinclair

He can feel himself melt every time you ask for a simple hug or kiss

Feeling you crawl into bed with him in the middle of the night plasters the biggest smile on his face

He lives for your attention and touch

You could slap him and he'd be happy

Anytime you cuddle up to him, he's immediately reaching for your growing belly, wanting to give his child some attention too

Will compliment you repeatedly over your new found attachment

Prays every night that this is a permanent change

[rueclfer]

shut up, my moms calling // touya todoroki pt two

a/n: req from one of yall who sent in multiple prompts a lil bit ago!!! hi anon i hope u see this <3 also not to be lazy but i'm gonna piggyback this req off of this touya fic of mine as a pt 2 to save myself the contextualizing.. so read that one too lmao.

also i def got ambitious and FAR from the req but i still hope you enjoyed heh..

"Scoot over, Touya, you're taking up the entire bed." You huff, actively elbowing him in the chest.

"You mean my bed?" He whines. "This is why I never want to share the bed with you. You're a blanket AND pillow hog, and I always get shoved all the way to the edge.

"Get your ass on the floor then." You shove him harder, in which he retaliates by grabbing your wrists.

"I always sleep on the fucking floor. Either you deal with sharing a bed, or you take the floor this time."

"So annoying." You mutter under your breath, wriggling out of his grasp and accepting your defeat.

It was nearly 2am and you two had not seen each other all day, which resulted in him being clingier than usual, of course. Touya would never admit it, but you had him all figured out. Quality time may be his top love language, but when that love-tank is low, he immediately defaults to physical touch, making it nearly impossible for you to get away from him if you really wanted to,

After much adjustments, you two silently settled on a position where your face was pressed against his chest, facing each other with your arms wrapped around one another and legs intertwined.

"Can you breathe?" He mutters against your forehead.

"Mmhm." You sigh against his chest in content. "You're so warm and you don't smell like shit for once."

"Stop talking." He hums, letting himself run his hand through your hair, lightly massaging your scalp.

You could melt at this moment. With your fingers drawing circles on his back paired with his own in your hair, you could feel yourself savoring this moment forever, locking it in your memories.

It had been a couple of weeks since you two exchanged your first kisses at the river, and not a single word about it had been uttered about it since. There was no way to bring it up to him again without feeling awkward, but it had plagued your mind everyday- multiple times a day. If you could slap yourself across the face every time you let the memory fluster you, you would. After all, your friendship continued as if nothing happened.

"Did Fuyumi tell you?" You whisper, looking up to meet his eyes.

"Tell me what?" His eyes remain closed.

"That Keigo kid asked me out the other day."

His eyes pop open and meet yours. All motion stops. He snakes his hand from your scalp to grab your shoulder and leans back to get a better view of your face.

"The fuck? Keigo? The other day?"

You nod your head in response.

"Why the hell did you tell Fuyumi before me?" His eyebrows furrow.

"I don't know! Keep your voice down." You hush. "It was a girl thing." You shrug.

"A girl thing..." He rolls his eyes. "And what did you tell him?"

You nervously fiddle with the back of his shirt, piling it in fistfuls.

"I said I would get back to him about it." You nervously chuckle. "Is that bad? It caught me off guard so I didn't know what to say."

He huffs out a chuckle before closing the space between you two again, moving his hand to your lower back and tracing a finger against the skin exposed by your shirt lifting

"Good. Tell him it's a no next time you see him."

"What? But what if it's a yes?"

"It's not. He's an asshole and an idiot." He yawns into your hairline, and rubs his cheek against your forehead.

You pinch the skin on his waist, bringing his attention back to you. "You don't get to decide that for me, dipshit."

"Never in a million years will he fucking deserve you, Y/N. Fuyumi probably told you the same thing." He returns the pinch, pulling back once again.

He was right. She did in fact tell you the same exact thing.

"Sounds like you're just jealous. What, one kiss and all of the sudden you're in love with me?" You tease. "Can't handle seeing me with another guy?"

You didn't know what you were doing, or how those words slipped off your tongue. You bit your cheeks in regret the moment you felt his body stiffen against yours.

"Jealous? As fucking if. I'm just being a good best friend. Do what you want, but if he breaks your heart then don't come back crying to me."

Just like that, he easily averted the mention of your kiss- which of course annoyed you.

"Fine. Let me actually text him right now. Maybe as my bestest friend ever, you can help me draft it." You feel around under your pillow for your phone.

You open your text chain with Keigo, hovering your thumbs over the keyboard. "Alright let's see." You began reading out loud as you type. "Hey Keigo, thought about it, and I think you're really sweet and so sexy and would love to-"

Before you could continue, Touya slaps the phone out of your hand, letting it hit the ground behind him with a harsh thud.

"Touya!" You scold after a loud gasp of shock.

You shove him hard onto his back, swinging a leg over him in order to reach down and attempt to retrieve your phone from the other side of the bed. You couldn't help but feel a bit of satisfaction from this obvious outburst of jealousy. Maybe in some sense, it validated the thread of tension hanging between you two that he had seemingly been ignoring.

"I knew it, you jealous fuckin-" You start before the bedroom door swings open, causing you to duct down under the covers.

"Touya? Y/N? Are you guys okay in there? I heard someth-" Rei begins, stopping the moment she sees the abandoned floor mattress next to the bed and your silhouette straddling Touya.

"Mom!" Touya whines, nearly shoving you off of him to jump out of bed. "Knock next time, please." He huffs as he bends down to pick up your phone, tossing it on the bed next to you.

"Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry guys." She covers her mouth in shock.

Rei flips on the light switch and audibly releases a sigh of relief to confirm that you two were indeed still fully clothed.

"Do you guys....have... you know." She begins, stammering over her words. "Are you guys being safe? You know, I don't care what you do as long as you're both safe, okay? Also, please be a little quieter. I know it's a weekend, but everyone is sleeping."

Your eyes widen in horror after grasping onto what she was insinuating. You smash your face into the comforter in embarrassment.

"Rei, I promise you we weren't..." You pop your head up and wave your hands out in denial. "We were just talking and Touya just.." You motion to him. "Tell her, dumbass!" You throw a pillow at him.

"We are not having sex, mom. Y/N's just being stupid." He presses his lips together in a tight line. "But we will use protection if we do. Thanks."

"Oh my god, but we're not going to." You quickly quip in. "I promise we'll keep it down. So sorry for waking you."

You wanted to melt into the floor and disintegrate all together. You shove your face in your hands to hide your humiliation. Your body was hot all over and were suddenly sweating through your pajama shirt.

"Great! Alright then. We'll talk more in the morning." She nervously chuckles. "Goodnight guys, and please keep it down."

The moment the door clicks shut, you turn and slap his shoulder.

"What the fuck?!" You whisper-yell. "But we will use protection if we do? Are you insane? I can never sleep over again, that was so embarrassing." You cry.

"Chill out, it's fine." He laughs, picking up the thrown pillows off of the floor. "Embarrassing yeah, but would you be surprised if I told you that wasn't the first time she tried giving me the talk? About you specifically? At least you don't have to hear that shit."

"About me?!" You exclaim. "Shut the fuck up, no way?"

Touya settles back into bed on his back with his hands behind his head while you sit criss-crossed right next to him, cooling down from the embarrassment.

"Mmhm. Like twice already." He nods his head.

"Does she know that we're not dating or anything?" You cock an eyebrow. "She definitely knows that, right?"

"Well yeah, no shit." He shoots you a sideways glance. "But you don't have to be dating to...do all that."

"What does she say about me?"

"I don't know, of a whole bunch of bullshit I already know?" He begins tapping his fingers on your knee. "Like 'oh, Touya, Y/N's really sweet and we love them, but you have to treat them nice and I know teenage feelings are complicated, but if you really like them and want to ever do anything more, just have really good communication and practice safe sex. Always!"

"Rei has such a way with words." You say through gritted teeth, finally laying down besides him, both now looking up at the glow in the dark stars plastered on the ceiling.

"Yeah, so if you ever wanted to do another 'science experiment,' she got us condoms. It's in the first drawer on the nightstand next to you."

Your jaw drops and you slap a hand over to cover your gaping mouth. The heat returns to your face.

"She did not." You choke out, snapping your head towards him.

"She did." He chuckles. "I told her you literally just got your first kiss and didn't think you would need them anytime soon, but ya know she likes to be careful I guess."

"Wait, you told her we kissed?"

You scooted closer to Touya, now looking at him on your side while he remained on his back looking upwards.

"Mom-senses are kinda scary. When you left the next day, she said we were acting weird and grilled it outta me." He shrugs. "I was honest. Guess that's what triggered this safe sex bullshit."

"God dammit, Touya. So she 100% thinks we're together." You press your lips together.

"You act like that's the worst thing in the world." He shoots you a side glance. You said nothing.

Since that night, you often thought about the possibility of being "more than friends" with Touya, but you couldn't help but shake off the lingering thought that maybe the "science experiment" of a kiss was all that it was for him- nothing but an experiment. You weren't too sure what to do with the possibility that it was something more meaningful for you in that case.

"Anyways, she probably has her own thoughts and opinions, but I told her we're not."

"I see." You mutter. "What are your thoughts and opinions?"

"About... being together? Like that?" He glances over to you.

"Keigo asking me out, the kiss, and your mom thinking we're together and stuff, everything in between."

You watch his face carefully as he takes a second to think about his answers. You see the gears turning in his head, but not quite sure what would come out of his mouth.

"You first." He quickly spits out.

You deadpan. "You know what? Nevermind. Goodnight, dipshit." You turn around, facing away from him and pull the covers up to your chin.

"Okay okay okay, come back. I'll spill my heart out for you if that's what you really wanna hear at 2am right now." You could hear the annoyance in his voice, bringing a smile back to your face.

You cheerily turn back around to see him back on his side, facing you now.

"Perfect. Go on." You say, shoving your leg in between his own.

"So Keigo." He starts.

"Mmhm."

"Annoys the living shit out of me. Genuinely. And I'd hate to see you waste your time on that sorry motherfucker, but if you actually do like him, which I don't see how, do what you want. I come first though, don't forget it. Best friend priorities."

"See, I knew you were jealous." You smile. "I don't think I was considering it anyways, but nice to hear your big boy thoughts about it, you cutiepie."

"That's what I thought. Why the fuck would you need him when you have me?" He smirks.

You roll your eyes. "Okay, now tell me how you feel about your mom thinking we're bonking."

"Idiot." He chuckles. "I don't really give a fuck about what she thinks? We got free condoms- use them, don't use them, take some for Keigo if you ever wanted to do some charity work, I don't care, but she can think what she wants to think."

"What about your thoughts on us being together?" You mutter. "Like hypothetically just to humor her suspicions."

He stops and stares at you for a second, biting his bottom lip as he thinks.

"Uh. Let me get back to you about that one."

You wave it off. "Okay fine, so then the kiss."

"I want you to go first for that, and you can't get mad at me because the kiss was for you... mostly."

You hesitated for a moment, sighing in place of an answer. You weren't quite sure how much, if any, information to reveal about your true feelings about it all. "The kiss... was... definitely a kiss?" You breathe out awkwardly "It was nice. Really nice. And I enjoyed it."

"Okay. Ditto and ditto." He nods, motioning for you to continue.

"And I don't necessarily know what this means, but I think about it a lot. Like. A lot." You emphasize. "I don't know, maybe it means nothing."

"Okay...so you wanna do it again?"

It seemed like your brain short circuited for a moment.

"Hah?" You blink.

"Well, I think about it a lot too. And I also don't really know what that means or how to feel about it, so maybe... we can do it for science again...a 2.0?" You hear the hesitation in his voice.

"Like do it again to confirm our final thoughts?" You furrow your eyebrows.

"Yup."

"I see."

"Only if you want. I don't really care either way. Up to you." He quips. "I just.. am confused."

You roll your eyes. "Don't even try to act so nonchalant when you're the one asking for me to kiss your stupid ass again. You want me so bad." You joke to alleviate the thick fog of tension filling the room.

"Yeah, want you to shut the fuck up." He mutters in an annoyed tone. "Yes or no."

"Yes, fine." You squeak out, tensing when his hand meets your cheek. "I guess it would be good.. for science."

"Okay cool." He huffs. "Relax." He says under his breath, pulling you in closer to him. "We know what we're doing now, don't we?"

You reciprocate his movements, letting your hand rest against the side of his face, swiping your thumb back and forth on the skin under his eye.

"I'm nervous." You whisper, glancing back and forth between his lips and eyes.

The tip of your noses were grazing each other's, and lips just mere inches from meeting.

"Still? Well don't be. It's just me." He lightly rubs his nose against your own, eyes glued on your lips, and occasionally glances back up to meet your eyes. "And we've done this before, remember?"

He stares at you through a beat of silence and drags a thumb across your bottom lip. "Don't freak out."

He closes the gap between you two before you could respond, instantly melting under his touch.

Compared to your first kiss together, this one felt hotter, needier, and more desperate from the way he pulled you even closer to his body by the waist and locked your legs in between his own, as if you were in for the devouring.

You were tense, but feeling his hand tenderly cup your cheek made you feel a bit more secure, letting yourself lean deeper into the kiss.

Chills ran up your spine the moment his other hand met the exposed skin lower back, playing with the hem of your tee shirt.

"Is that okay?" He asks against your lips, letting his fingers start to crawl up under the fabric.

You nod your head in silence as your stomach erupts in flutters and flames, heightening every sensation of him exploring your bare skin.

"This is where you're the most ticklish." He smiles against your lips, moving his hand up the curve of your waist.

"This is where I kicked you on the swing set when we were 13." Rubbing the soft space between your shoulder blades, pecking your lips in between words. "Sorry, by the way."

"I forgive you." Your breath out a laugh before pressing your lips back to his.

"And you have a freckle right here." He grips the space where your spine meets your neck.

"How do you know that?"

"I'm observant."

Your own hand makes its way to the back of his head from his cheek. Your fingers become entangled with the hair on the nape of his neck, lightly twirling a lock between your pointer and thumb. You tug on the silvery locks, gifting you a throaty, hungry groan from him.

You snap back in shock, meeting his own set of wide eyes.

"Okay let's stop there." He coughs, snaking his arm back from under your shirt and turning on his back to dart his eyes away from your own.

You slap a hand over your mouth to muffle your nervous laughter after you ground yourself back to reality.

"Shut up." He sheepishly rubs the back of his neck.

"Sorry. That good, huh?"

"No shit." He huffs, a hint of a smile on his lips. "Anyways, back to the point, horn-dog." He faces you.

You were lucky the only source of light was the haze of moonlight shining through the window on the other side of the room. If there was any more light, you were sure he would be able to see your embarrassingly flushed face.

"Right, the point." You cough. "So... thoughts?"

"You want me to be real with you?"

"Duh."

"I don't know who you've been practicing on for these past couple of weeks, but that was good. So much better than the first time- not saying you did a shit job, but yeah a lot better."

You blush at the half-assed compliment and bring your hand up to his forehead to flick him right between the eyes. "The other thoughts, dumbass. How do you feel?"

"I'm not sure if I want to say...yet." He continues, gauging your reaction.

"What?" You groan. "You said you'd be real with me."

"Well, what do you think I'll say? Or hoping?" He cocks an eyebrow.

That it feels real. That you want me as much as I want you. That this won't change anything between us. That this isn't a science experiment. That you're in love with me.

"I don't know." You shrug. "I guess I just want to know if I could ever be relationship material? Like after the kiss and knowing me, am I hopeless or what?"

"That's why you asked about us hypothetically being together?"

"Uh, yes?" You bit down on your bottom lip.

"Oh." He mumbled, shifting awkwardly.

A beat of silence passes while he thinks for a moment.

"I think that Keigo might be the smartest fucker out there right now. It pains me to see you act like a lovesick puppy for people who don't see how cool and great and how much of a catch you are and I'm sorry that Keigo just so happens to be someone that does." He sighs.

"Actually, scratch that." He continues. "I'm the smartest fucker out there. I've been known how fucking great you are." He laughs. "Yeah fuck Keigo. He's has good taste, but fuck him because I've been doing it first."

You chuckle a bit, your heart swelling at the turn-around of a compliment. "Yeah, but at least he likes me-like me. Enough to ask me out."

Touya goes quiet, lips pressed together in a tight line.

"Well to answer your question fully, I think my mom is onto something."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Like if I could've been better at communication, then we would've been together a long time ago."

"As in..." You start, waiting for him to continue as the air is sucked out of your lungs.

"As in, I like you-like you."

"You like me-like me... as in have feelings for me?" You draw out, staring at him in shock.

He nods in response.

"Since the first time we kissed?"

"Since the first time we met, actually."

Your mouth gapes open with no words coming out, digesting this sudden confession.

"You're fucking with me right now?" You whisper, clutching onto fistfuls of the comforter.

"I wish, but I'm not." He sighs, reaching a finger up to push a stray hair behind your ear. "I wasn't going to say anything, but you're such a dumbass who always talks down on yourself and it makes me sick. You have to know that there is at least one person in this world who would burn everything else down if it was your happiness on the line. I really fucking like you and I'd rather die than let that ruin our friendship, okay?"

In this moment, both of you were holding your own breaths, not quite sure if any sudden movement might burst this moment between you. Touya inherently knew it was time to tell you how he felt and that he couldn't go the rest of his life scaring away potential lovers while being terrified to claim the position himself. You, on the other hand, agreed that if anything did jeopardize your relationship with him, you wouldn't forgive yourself.

"I'm scared. I don't want to ruin our friendship either." You choke out with tears beginning to flood your eyes, causing his own to widen in panic.

"Hey whoa, what are you crying for?" He scoots in closer to you, holding you against his chest. "Seriously Y/N, I tell you I like you, and you start crying? God, just call me a piece of shit already." He chuckles, wrapping his arm around you.

"It's not that." You muffled into his now tear stained shirt. "It's that I like you too and I don't know what to do about it, but I don't want to ruin us or risk anything that will."

He takes a sharp intake of air, and continues to rub circles against your back.

"Well, I'll have you as much as you'll give me. Don't worry about it, okay? I love you- as my closest friend, favorite human being, my other half. All of it."

"What do we do?" You whisper, looking up at him.

"Uhh...sleep and talk about it tomorrow? Sit on it?"

"You think I can fucking sleep now?" You whine. "What's wrong with you?"

"You're cute." He smiles, moving his hand from your back to your cheek, rubbing away the dampness of the tears. "Alright then you tell me, what do we do? The ball is in your court."

"What would it look like if we started dating?" You asked.

"Exactly this? More kissing? Putting those condoms to use?"

You slap his shoulder. "Fucking idiot."

"Okay. Then, what if we don't start dating?" You huff, your face burning now.

"Same thing maybe? Less kissing? Condoms collecting dust?" He shrugs. "I guess I'll keep taking the floor for sleepovers?"

"You're not going to try to go out with anyone else?"

"I'll just wait for you."

You pout at the simple tenderness of his answer. You wanted to stay like this forever- close to him, the warmth of his body radiating into your own, your hands all over each other. You knew that it was possible too. To stay here.

"I think, maybe we can do it." You finalize. "Or try to, at least."

"Really?" He tips your chin upwards to meet his surprised eyes. "You really want to try?"

"I do. I'm scared, and I think you are too so if we put our fears together, we can't fuck this up, right?" You nervously joke. "For the sake of Rei too. Let's prove her right."

He leans down and presses a kiss on your forehead, simultaneously reaching over to your hand and locking his pinky in with yours, solidifying an unspoken promise to one another.

I love you. You're my best friend. You're my other half. We'll always try.

[hiraethwrote]

❝ AND I SIMPLY BLEND IN WITH THE WALLPAPER ❞ PART 2

✧ summary: you're finally over the breakup and back in a new relationship with someone you now can't picture living without. how do you handle bumping into your ex after not seeing him since that party? ✧ cw: f!reader, college au, mild profanity, some angst for my boy satoru, also satoru being a bad bf, pining, heavy regret, comfort, mention of previous issues/trauma, no use of y/n ✧ word count: 3.3k

part 1 - part 2

Satoru: happy birthday! hope you have a nice day

You were surprised to say the least, staring blankly at your phone screen. It had been months since you’d seen him, let alone heard anything from him. The last text message that had been sent between the two of you had been a week after your breakup, when he told you there was still a box of your stuff left in his dorm.

And now you were staring at the first time he’d even acknowledged you’re existence since then — and pure relief filled you as it dawned on you there wasn’t an ounce of hurt in you.

After that dreaded party, you’d made up your mind to finally move on. Not let the idea of him plague you anymore — and seeing those words across your screen made you realise you had finally reached that point. Now you were only thankful for the experience that had been Satoru Gojo, but it was nothing but a pleasant memory. Not painful, not bitter, not torturous. Just nice.

“Ready to go?” A voice snapped you back to reality, looking up at your boyfriend. Your new saving grace, who he had come into your life when you needed it the most, like the universe had finally decided you had suffered enough and now it was your turn to be happy again.

For a while, you’d suspected men like him didn’t really exist, because he had been so incredibly patient, lenient when needed. Just all around a good person, which was exactly what you deserved.

Lifting from your seat, you typed a quick ‘thank you :)’, feeling content that you could now answer him without anxiety filling every fibre of your being. “Yeah, let’s go,” you smiled before hooking your arm with his.

You simply sunk into his body, letting your head rest on his shoulder as his arm was safely secured around your waist in a tender grip, standing in the very front of the line while you waited to be seated.

Lifting your head, your eyes traveled your boyfriend’s face with a loving gaze, a look that had basically become a default setting whenever you had the chance to admire him. “Thank you again,” you whispered.

His arm tightened a little around you. “Of course. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t take you out for dinner on your birthday,” he spoke so proudly before placing a kiss on your forehead.

“Still, I think a thank you is in order,” you giggled. Carefully wiggling in his grip, you turned around to grab your lipgloss from your purse when you accidentally nudged your elbow straight into the back of the person standing behind you. “Oh, I’m so sorry- Satoru?”

Eyes falling on a familiar figure, you’d recognise that white hair and blue orbs anywhere. It was none other than your ex-boyfriend staring right back at you. Softly, your name dropped from his lips in a way you hadn’t heard from him say in a very long time.

Restraint was sorely forgotten at the sight of you glowing with a sense of peace, letting his eyes take in how you were styled in a beautiful form fitting dress of green satin, half your hair tied back with a cute bow

“Hi,” you said cheerfully, causing him to close his gaping jaw and swallow the lump in his throat.

“Hey,” he answered in a low voice, before he let his attention shift to the vaguely familiar man at your side, one arm on your waist, the other tucked into the pockets of his beige pants.

“Oh, sorry. This is my boyfriend,” your voice was dripping with devotion as you placed one hand on his chest, “you know Kento, right?”

To say Satoru knew Kento was a stretch, but he wasn’t completely unacquainted with him — he’d seen him around campus and at a few parties. Satoru had always thought him to be too serious, never smiling, always walking with strict determination of getting somewhere. But right now he was flashing him a friendly smile as he pulled his hand from the pocket and had it hover in the air between them.

Shaking out of his thoughts, he politely accepted the gesture — not surprised by the firm and respectable handshake. “Kento Nanami, it’s a pleasure.”

“Satoru Gojo,” he answered simply, lips drawing into a thin line. Kento then turned to the individual at his side, causing an embarrassed flush to paint his cheeks, because the sight of you had him forget his girlfriend for a hot second.

“Pleasure,” he smiled at her after they had introduced themselves to each other.

So the rumours were true. No one had told him directly, because the topic of you was quickly dropped any time he entered a room, but the whispers of your new boyfriend had reached him eventually.

Once when he was sat in the library, his ears had perked up when two girls sitting behind him had mentioned your name, talking about the new guy you were seeing. They’d talked of a handsome and chivalrous man, who seemed to have all the women on campus charmed because he appeared to be the perfect gentleman. And you’d been the lucky girl to finally be able to secure him.

But when he’d heard the descriptions of your new beau — stoic, always alone and grumpy, oh-so-serious business major Kento Nanami, was not the person he pictured.

He probably thought he was being slick, but you saw through it. Despite everything that had gone down between you, there was no denying you still knew Satoru, and the look in his eyes when he observed Kento could definitely have been kinder. And with the heavy glare from Satoru, the encounter had turned strangely uncomfortable. Because you weren’t the only one who’s picked up in his tense behaviour. His girlfriend saw it too.

You knew you couldn’t let the silence hang over you any longer. “So is there a special occasion?” You asked sweetly, looking between them.

“Just- ahem, just a much needed date night,” his girlfriend answered, trying her best to hide how her voice came out strained once she opened her mouth.

“That’s nice! It’s good you take the time to do those sorts of things.”

You were so genuine when you talked, and that was all thanks to Kento. Because of his unwavering and supportive presence, you were able to talk to the both of them without a single drop of resentment.

The moment he had heard the name of your ex-boyfriend slip out of your lips, he’d acted on pure instinct, his grip on you tightening — not in a possessive way. No, he just wanted to make sure you were okay, knowing your entire history.

However, the road to knowing your history had been a long one, because the insecurities and trust issues had run a lot deeper than you had anticipated. So Kento had to put in a lot of work in order to get you to creak open that door of trust.

You didn’t know why you waited so long to expose your vulnerability to him. Maybe you just waited for him to bail on you if you proved to be too closed off — too difficult. That eventually he’d grow tired of the work it took to prove himself to you and you’d spare yourself the heartbreak by pushing him away. Yet, he stayed.

If there was an individual to be patience personified, it would be Kento Nanami. He responded to every request of “I’m not ready yet” and “it’s just too much” with a warm smile and a nod before he continued to keep you company.

And he had never once complained. Not a single grunt of frustration, not a twitch in his eye as you once again shut down his attempt of getting close, never rolling his eyes at you. He simply stayed by your side, which eventually was enough for you to let your walls down — and with the walls, everything else came tumbling out as well.

One late evening, after he’d cooked you a nice dinner just because, you’d decided it was finally time to tell him about Satoru and how that ended. And once you twisted open the jar to your life, everything came spewing out.

Every detail about your relationship with Satoru, the breakup and the party. That quickly snowballed into your troubles with family, friends, work, studies, life — you name it. Standing in front of him, you revealed things about yourself you’d only ever told one person before, Satoru. And everything came out in the form of loud and uncontrollable sobs.

You’d been so scared, that he’d deem it all too much and turn his back on you. But he hadn’t even hesitated to pull you into his strong arms and simply hold you. For as long as you needed it, he stroked your hair and whispered small affirmations into your ear the entire night until you fell asleep in his embrace.

When you’d woken up the next morning, his arms were still around you — shielding you from all potential pain to come your way. For the first time in a long time, you felt safe.

And that’s when you knew.

All of the weariness that had held you back for so long had evaporated into thin air, everything suddenly making sense again as it all fell into place. It was strange, knowing that the two of you had crossed paths on so many occasions but never even acknowledged each other. It felt like wasted time, because you found yourself thinking it should have been him all along.

Kento seemed to be everything Satoru wasn’t, matching your energy in a way Satoru never did. At least now, all the pain you’d been through felt worth it because it had led you straight into the life of your current boyfriend.

So when you were suddenly faced with your ex again, the very one that shattered your heart, Kento instinctively had to know you were doing alright. And if not, he was going to just smoothly shift the conversation away so you’d be able to retreat from the situation to make sure you were anything but uneasy.

You’d looked at Kento when his arm had tensed around your middle, your eyes telling him everything he needed to know. Nothing about the encounter caused any discomfort, all due to him.

“And you? What brings you here?” She asked.

“It’s your birthday,” it slipped out of Satoru before you had the chance to answer, soft eyes locked on you.

“Yeah,” you only smiled. “Kento wanted to take me out,” turning to gaze at him again, “I just couldn’t turn down his offer.”

Again, Satoru’s traitorous eyes drifted where the shouldn’t, flicking towards Kento’s hand that was still on your waist. It resulted in a new feeling arising in him; jealousy. It had him act a bit rashly, a sharp movement to intertwine his hand with his girlfriend’s. Had he done it to draw out a reaction from you? He wasn’t sure, but if that were the case, he failed miserably. It didn’t even seem like you noticed it at all.

“Only the best for you,” Kento had said, mostly for your ears exclusively. But Satoru had heard his little comment and felt a sting go through his body, amplified by the display of how he seemed to be in pure awe of you.

There was no denying it. The way Kento looked at you was out of pure love, unbothered by your surroundings. Not just in his eyes though, but he wore his dedication to you on his sleeve. There was no doubt that he was perfectly happy, that he found himself where he was meant to be.

“Mr. Nanami, your table is ready,” the waiter came over.

“It was great seeing you again,” you smiled, first looking at his girlfriend before turning to look at Satoru. He knew it wasn’t your intention, because your eyes were only looking at him with kindness — but he felt as if your gaze was burning into his soul. “Enjoy your evening.”

“Nice meeting you both,” Kento begged farewell, before guiding you in front of him with his hand resting on the small of your back.

They say you don’t realise what you have until it’s gone. Well, Satoru had only an idea of what he had lost once it was gone. It wasn’t until he now saw someone else enjoying your love he actually realised what he had foolishly given up. He also knew that was completely and utterly selfish of him.

It wasn’t until a few weeks ago, images of you had started to reappear in his head. At first it was only in small flashes, to which he didn’t think twice about. But it quickly got worse, when he found himself sharing a moment with his girlfriend and a suffocating thought clogged his mind, telling him this was all wrong. It should have been you.

Time moved in slow motion, eyes following your every step towards your table. He was only brought back to reality when he felt his girlfriend pull her hand out of his before crossing them over her chest.

“You could at least try and pretend not to be obsessed,” she muttered.

“What do you mean?” Satoru said shyly, trying to pretend like he didn’t know what she was hinting at. But he knew he wasn’t fooling her. He wasn’t exactly subtle.

“I’m not an idiot.” When he finally turned his attention from you, he felt terrible because a pair of glossy eyes was staring up at him. “And you’ve always been a terrible liar.”

When he was about to come with another dumb excuse, they were approached by their waiter. “Mr. Gojo? Let me lead you to your table.” She blinked away her tears and put on a forced smile.

Walking to their table, Satoru couldn’t help but look over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of you one more time — he instantly wished he hadn’t. He was hoping to find you looking back at him with the same longing stare he gave you but you didn’t.

You were solemnly focused on Kento who was sitting across from you. As far as you were concerned, there wasn’t another person in the room. And he was returning your loving stare with just as much devotion. If not more.

“You sure you’re alright?” Kento asked, reaching across the table to grab your hand.

You nodded. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I could imagine it was hard seeing him again.”

You took a deep breath, the scene of Kento staring back at you with so much concern having a relaxing affect on you. True serenity filled your body leading you to simply shake your head no at him. “No. No, it wasn’t.” He squinted his eyes at you. “He can’t hurt me anymore. Having you in my life has made sure of that.”

Contentment had the corner of his lips tug upwards in a satisfied smile. “You give me too much credit, darling.”

“No, don’t think so,” you said playfully. “If anything, I don’t give you enough credit.” A lighthearted scoff escaped him.

“Is that so?”

“Oh, most certainly. They write books about men like you, y’know? Dashing, charming, handsome.”

“You flatter me,” he sighed as he leaned back in his chair again, the ghost of a smile still painting his face as a slightest blush bloomed on his cheeks. His eyes met yours again. “I love you.”

“And I love you.”

From across the restaurant, Satoru kept waiting for stolen glances to come his way but they never arrived. He was hoping that the unspoken connection you used to have would come in clutch one last time, even if it was just to have your eyes on him for a second.

But you never gave him what he wanted.

He spent the dinner indulged in dry small talk with his girlfriend. The conversation that once flowed so smoothly, had grown stale with boredom and neither of them knew how to fix it. She especially struggled when she constantly caught him looking past her to spot you deep in chatter with Kento.

For them, the evening passed by so slowly, unable to meet each other’s eyes for more than a few seconds at a time. Satoru’s demeanour quickly changed when it appeared your evening was over, his posture straightening when you and Kento got up from your seats. He paid close attention when Kento pulled your jacket over your shoulders, before leaning in to whisper something in your that had you giggle while your cheeks turned red.

Just as you were about to exit, and just before Satoru was about to lose the single splinter of hope he had left, you did in fact look in their direction. You said a few words to Kento before turning away from him and coming over to their table.

Curiosity filled Satoru’s body, eager eyes glued on you. For every step you came closer, his heart started to beat faster. It was like the light of the end of the tunnel came closer and closer but it was quickly put out when you put a hand on his girlfriend’s shoulder, not really acknowledging him in particular.

“I’m sorry to disturb,” you breathed nervously as you looked down at her. “I just feel like I owe you an apology.”

She instantly pinched her eyebrows together. “An apology?”

Truthfully, she was beyond confused by the fact that you approached her. Satoru’s not-so-subtle glances in your direction had been torturing her all evening, and she was a little scared you’d returned them when she couldn’t see.

Judging how she saw you and your new boyfriend alone, she would never have thought you had any bad intentions — but based on the last time she’d seen you, when you were bawling your eyes out alone at a party and all the stories she’d been told about how broken you were, it wasn’t without reason she was worried.

But your focus was on her.

“Yes,” you chuckled softly. “The last time we met I was unnecessarily cold. I had a bad evening, and I was a little harsh in the way I talked to you. I’m sorry.”

“Oh,” she answered, blinking away the befuddlement she felt. “That’s alright. There’s no need to apologise,” she returned your genuine smile.

“Either way. I could have been a little more mellow.” With sincerity, she made sure you had nothing to worry about with short and sweet confirmations. “Well, enjoy the rest of your evening.” You gave her shoulder one last squeeze and a small wave to Satoru.

His voice had failed him, no sound coming out when he wanted to wish you goodbye. He wasn’t in control when he again let his eyes linger as you cutely made your way back to your boyfriend, who held his hand out for you to grab. Once your hands connected, he smoothly pulled you close to him and placed a small peck on your temple. It almost seemed like the two of you were physically attached to each other when you left the restaurant, never even thinking of looking back.

What happened?

He knew he had screwed up majorly — he didn’t understand how he had ever thought this was how it supposed to be? What the hell had come over him when he’d broken up with you? And how had he been so wrapped up in his new girlfriend, when he had to know somewhere inside him it wasn’t real — not like it was with you?

Of course he felt bad. His girlfriend was a good person through and through. And at one point he had been under the impression that they were happy, but she had one flaw that crept up on him after a while — she wasn’t you.

Satoru would probably hate himself forever for letting you go.

tags @sad-darksoul, @luvsymai, @snwvie, @call-memissbrightside

a/n for anyone expecting and hoping suguru, i am sorry :( i decided to go the comfort route instead of the scandal route, because if we’re honest, it’s what reader deserves… not to mention that i’m doing satoru extremely dirty in this one and it would be cruel to have reader get with suguru on top of that also, it's nanami's birthday so it's fitting <3

reblogs, likes and comments are appreciated plagiarism not authorized

[davidtennantgenderenvy]

On David Tennant and Aging

So, I’ve seen a lot of posts in response to Tumblr users’ habit of affectionately calling their favorite middle aged dudes “old men”, David Tennant in particular, saying things like “clearly you’ve never met an actual old person”, “omg you talk about these guys like they’re 80”, “please be normal about people aging”, etc. And on one hand, all of these statements are objectively right and true! But as someone who’s always been really fascinated by and found a lot of beauty in getting older (which I’ve explored in some of my writing on A03 because nobody else is going to do it for me), I’d like to provide a bit more nuance on how I think this label applies to David in particular.

David, obviously, in literal terms, is not “old”, at least not to me- I don’t personally consider people old until they get past 60. 52 is middle aged, simple as that. And yet, when I see David stuck with the “old man” label, it still somehow feels weirdly right, for a number of reasons.

It annoys me so much when people say David “hasn’t aged a day since Doctor Who”, because, well…

He clearly has. A lot. He’s got forehead creases, deep crows’ feet and eyebags, and I think that post-Fourteen we’re gonna see him rocking the grey temples a LOT more. He also has the voice of an older man now, his upper range is still there but the default is much more deep and rich, with a gravelly, rumbling quality that just goes straight through you. I personally think Broadchurch was when David finally started to embrace looking his age- Alec Hardy just wouldn’t have been served by Ten’s fresh-faced boyishness.

Obviously, these are the kinds of changes you’d expect any 52-year-old man to have, but something about David just makes it all seem a bit more… intense? The expressiveness of his face combined with his almost gaunt frame makes his wrinkles very prominent, and when he works his voice to its emotional extremes, his lower register can sound positively ancient, to devastating effect.

David, I think, is someone with an old soul- I don’t think he could be as good as he is at playing ancient characters like Crowley and The Doctor if he weren’t. He has lived so many lives, given so much of himself to so many characters, often incredibly tragic ones, and I think it wears on him. David also has five kids. FIVE. Do you know how exhausting it is to be one of the hardest working actors alive and be a present, loving father to even ONE child? But David somehow does it anyway! Nowadays I see him and my heart breaks because he looks so tired, so weary and fragile. But he’s all the more beautiful for it to me because I know that that is because he is kind. He’s a deeply empathetic person who feels and lives to the absolute fullest, and that story is written so clearly on his face, along with every other story he has ever been a part of.

There’s other things about David that make the label endearingly fitting- his utter hopelessness when it comes to technology, for instance. And he’s just got that warm, wise, grandpa energy too sometimes- look at that above Fourteen picture and tell me I’m wrong!

I once showed my friend who’d only seen David in Doctor Who and Harry Potter a picture of David from Around The World in 80 Days. It was a particularly emotional scene, and his face had just the most beautiful expression of compassion and sadness, every wrinkle on full display. And she said, in a less than complimentary fashion, “he looks so old!” Which, of course, offended me quite a bit at first. But to me, referring to David as old almost feels like a badge of honor, something he’s earned by living fully and selflessly, working hard and being wise and compassionate beyond his years. I think David himself is secretly more than a little insecure about the fact that he’s getting older. There’s sadness behind every jovially self-depreciating remark he’s made about his age in the past year, particularly in comparing himself to Ncuti Gatwa. I know how much David struggles with his impostor syndrome and how people perceive him, and I can clearly see in his eyes the fear of being discarded, the anxiety he feels about if he’ll still be as loved as he was back in 2007 now that he’s closer in age to King Lear than he is to Romeo. So I hope David knows it’s a privilege to watch him grow older, to watch his soul and talents deepen with the crinkles around his eyes. If I, in my silly goofy tumblr girl-ness, call David Tennant an old man, it’s because it’s a label that suits him beautifully- even if it isn’t TECHNICALLY an accurate one yet.

[inkdrinkerworld]

Hurt comfort requests you sayyy?

What about post-prison spencer comforting sunshine reader when she got hurt during a case and she’s like physically hurt but trying to still be sunshiney to keep the team from worrying but spencer was like you don’t have to keep doing that, it’s okay to acknowledge your pain

"I don't want anything with opium in it." you say to the nurse who nods, leaving the room in search of your doctor.

Spencer is sat beside you on the plastic chair, watching you intently as he has been since you'd been admitted.

You hadn't cried once, and Spencer knows a little about being banged up and you should've cried at least twice. You've got bruising on your ribs, a couple broken as well as a broken nose- you really should've cried.

Instead, you let the nurses set your nose, bandage your side and read you your prescription like it was nothing.

"I can't wait to leave, I've been missing my ice cream." you sigh longingly as you lean back into the bed, turning to face Spencer.

His fair skin is a little splotchy, two spots from where he'd been fighting with the unsub, and one long red mark on his hand where you had been holding him as they reset your nose.

He's been a little checked out seeing you in the hospital bed. It's hard watching someone you love struggle to let themselves feel the less than desirable emotions.

"Do you think Emily will be upset if I come to work in the morning? I don't think I'll need more than a couple hours, but maybe the full day would be nice."

Spencer's eyes snap to yours at that. "You're not going to be able to be in the field for at least seven weeks."

Your eyes widen, "I'm fine. It's just a couple broken ribs, I can go to the office and fly on the jet no problem."

Spencer rolls his eyes, not at all liking that you're acting so cavalier about your injuries. "Try sitting up then, since it's just a couple ribs."

He doesn't mean for heat to seep into his words, and it's evident you weren't expecting it when he watches your eyebrows jump. Still determined, you try sitting up, wincing the whole time.

"Stop," you don't even lift yourself more than two inches off the bed before his hand is pushing your shoulder gently. Laying you out. "You don't have to pretend that everything is okay. You're injured, you can cry or scream or emote in something other than cheeriness."

You frown, "It's kind of my default." you murmur, Spencer doesn't believe you. He knows a lot about psychology and he knows a lot about you, he knows it's not your default.

"A learned one?" Your eyebrows jump again. He's still just as awkward and to the point as he's always been. Spencer takes a steadying breath, "I won't judge you for being upset or sad or anything else. You're allowed to and I don't want you suppressing it."

Your body sags with his permission. It's not that you needed his permission, and more that you needed the reassurance that it was okay. That you could just be.

"All emotions are good, we're supposed to feel all of them." it's this that does you in. Your throat scratches from the tears building through your chest and neck.

You sigh, shutting your eyes as you feel the sting of tears behind them. "I'm in a lot of pain, Spencer." your voice cracks and he's on the edge of your bed immediately, kissing your forehead as the tears fall. "It also kinda hurts to cry with a broken nose."

He chuckles at that, rubbing your arm as your tears begin to slow.

"I'll take care of you. The doctor is gonna come in and tell you that you can take Ibuprofen and you're gonna be here a couple more hours, but then we can go to my place and I'll have you in tip top shape in no time."

You open your eyes and look up at him. "You'd stay with me the full seven weeks?"

Your eyes shine with more tears under the harsh florescent light of the hospital, "I'd stay with you even longer than that, pretty girl." You know in your bones he means every word.

[inkzectz]

in your Bigger than the sky animation benrey starts out as barney? that seems so interesting lore wise? i would love to hear about what you were thinking when you animated that askdhfjlagh and the sweet voice and dreading stare? no clue what it means but curious as hell

ok im gonna go a little crazy on this because this is my biggest/favorite bc ever.

In the full vods they refer to benrey as “Barney” for the first while, it’s kind of unclear why, from Wayne’s perspective it seems he just didn’t know his name and defaulted to the character models name, and gir and Holly said they thought the joke with benrey was he was Barney but wrong, and they kept calling him the wrong name, so bipple, booper, Bentley, but eventually benrey, the name said by scorpy, stuck.

All this to say, it’s a BIG hc of mine that he was intended to be Barney (in universe) but due to being self aware was able to break off from this character he was meant to be. it’s kind of implied within the series they all have fake memories of who they are, being AI they are supposed to sort of act a certain way to maintain the immersion but at the end of the day, nothing before the game booted up really happened.

And benrey knows this, benrey knew from the beginning nothing was real, that he wasn’t human, how it ends, that no one actually dies, the works. I also headcanon that he became self aware during the AI model training stages, that the guy in charge of training his AI as Barney, broke him causing his self awareness and he was just launched into the beta game fully aware of the circumstances of his existence. I don’t think he was fully aware of how everything in game worked though.

but this to me is why he seems to constantly be changing his view of Gordon, antagonizing him one moment and then being friendly the next, his feelings about him are complex, he knows from the beginning he isn’t actually Gordon Freeman, but a guy just playing half life. Being a security guard, he’s programmed to protect Gordon with his life, but he knows this. He knows what’s compelling him to care for Gordon isn’t himself but lines of code he’s bound to, and this is why he antagonizes him. But that’s a whole different rant on its own lol

That sequence at the beginning of the bigger than the sky animatic was supposed to be a false memory, something he was supposed to think happened, but the version of Gordon he remembers isn’t real. This idea of ‘Gordon’ is a concept that only exists in these fake memories. (This is also why I think he never calls Gordon by name throughout the series, because he knows it’s not actually him (besides that one time but it doesn’t count bc it was for a bit lalala I can’t hear you))

there wasn’t much thought into the details of that part, like the coughing into the hand with the sweet voice, I really just put that bc I thought it looked dramatic and cool 😓

BUT on the topic of this big ass hc of mine, it actually is super important to a upcoming project im working on, and I realized throughout the story boarding it might need some explanation because it also has a lot of flash backs to some fake memories.

Sorry this got super rant-y I tried to keep it as short and simple as I could, I love hlvrai, I think about it literally every moment of my life and have so many hcs

[togament]

as much as i love cute festival fluff with togame (someone else pls send in an ask for it lmao), consider confessing to togame on valentines with homemade chocolate since he’s a big foodie & he, more than anyone, would appreciate the effort 🥰

i can see him maybe not clocking the intention right away either bc he didn’t have friends until shishitoren (+ find it hard to believe anyone would be interested in him like that) & the thought of choji of all ppl making him realize it’s romantic bc the chocolate reader gave him “wasn’t as nice looking as kame-chan’s :<” is soooo funny to me

GHHRHRJRH GNAWING ON YOUR ARM THIS IS ADORABLE!!!!! kinda teared up a bit ngl. imagining a soft blushy togame got me in my feels. i feel like (Also yes pls someone send in a cute festival date hc with togame/any of your faves!!!! I have things to say about our turtle guy in particular but we can do your other faves too. idk i'm in a yappy mood.

“you’re finally ready to confess to togame after mulling it over for months. you even made chocolates for him to (hopefully) immediately devour. things don’t go quite as planned though.”

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : none just fluff, gender neutral reader, reader’s jelly and an overthinker, togame’s in looooove, choji’s a little shit (affectionate)

full story under the cut! fully SFW.

standing at the gates of the ori, you bounce on your heels in sheer nervousness, eyes tirelessly darting around in search for togame with two chocolate boxes in one hand. one smaller one and one huge and beautifully decorated one. god your heart’s beating a mile a minute and your brain’s working overtime. what if he got into trouble? a possibility. what if someone’s confessing to him? of course someone would. he’s tall, handsome, kind, can cook—what’s not to love?

what if someone asked him out on a date? shit.

..what if HE asked someone out on a date? double shit.

oh god. oh no. your form visibly slumps at the thought, doubtlessly breaking your own heart again. but hey, on the bright side, you could eat your own chocolates, right? you made them extra delicious too, making them into flavors you know he’d like. you even snuck in some ramune flavored sweets for him.

…you know you’d hate eating chocolates for the rest of your life after this.

but then, the sun in the form of choji, shines through the dark clouds in your mind. your body visibly straightens back up when you hear his distinct laughter and endless yapping along with the soft crinkles of cellophane and boxes. listening even closer, you can hear togame speak and get promptly cut off by the smaller boy.

breathe. he’s here.

shit— what if those boxes you heard were all his and choji was just carrying them with him? what if he already gave someone a kiss today? what if he’d take your box of chocolates and hand it to his date instead?? what if—

“oh hey it’s bunny.”

you were just ready to walk away when you were stopped in your tracks by his deep voice calling out the nickname he so annoyingly picked for you. even when you’re looking away you could just hear him smiling. you turn, giving both boys a slight wave before you’re met with the absolute mountain of chocolates choji and him are carrying.

you’re not the only one who wanted to confess to him then.

“hey uh-mind adding these to your pile?” you say, failing to mask the sadness in your voice. you catch yourself though, immediately correcting yourself. “got these for you guys. no biggie, really.” you made the chocolates. granted the smaller box’s for choji and it’s way less decorated compared to togame’s. more ‘default’ chocolate box than ‘I have liked you for the longest time please accept my love’ chocolate box. you yap some more, digging your own grave, “these were on sale today so… thought you guys might want a snack.” you didn’t get them on sale. hell you made each and every single one by hand for the both of them to suit their tastes. god knows how much time you and him have spent talking about cooking and food.

but then choji gasps.

“hey! lying’s not nice!” choji chirps at you, dropping the boxes of chocolates on the ground unceremoniously. togame could only look on since his hands are already occupied with even more of choji’s valentines chocolates. the smaller boy looks at you suspiciously, albeit playfully. "you made these, didn't you?"

fuck. he noticed. you stare at choji like a deer in headlights now, too stunned to utter a single word.

he eyes the beautifully painted box in your hands and you pray for the ground to just eat you.

“iiiiis that one mine?” choji points at the larger box, eyes shining. togame looks on though, silent but his mind’s racing too. little did you know the chocolates they were carrying were all choji’s, given by his droves of admirers and friends alike. while togame didn’t mind not getting any chocolates this year and all those years before that, he finds himself hoping.

please don’t let that be choji’s.

“Wh-no! it’s-“ “-kame-chan’s? waaah his box is way larger and prettier than mine is!” he cuts you off, eyeing the boxes as you hold them in your hand. still, he takes his smaller box from you. “why’d you give kame-chan a bigger one? you like him or something?”

a pause.

“is that why you’re blushing?” he prods, wiggling a finger at you. "is that why you're blushing too, kame-chan?", he adds, wiggling two fingers at the both of you.

you could just explode at that moment.

“HUH?? What??? n-no! I mean YES-“ “oh so you do?” choji adds, cutting you off again. Taking togame’s larger box of chocolates from your hands, he shuffles through the chocolate boxes he dropped on the floor, handing the taller, now stunned boy his first legit box of valentines chocolates.

you three are blanketed in silence. with the exception of choji’s giggles.

"choji wait-" “welp, I’ll be in the ori!” he brightly exclaims, swiftly taking all of the chocolate boxes from togame’s arms and off the floor, leaving him with the single, most prettiest one in the bunch.

yours.

choji leaves you both with a playful wink and you both stand there, glancing at each other and fumbling awkwardly.

silently, he opens your chocolate box and is immediately greeted with a beautifully arranged selection of chocolates and sweets. his gaze flits from the box, to your reddened face and back again. you motion for him to eat. and he does.

he didn’t think it was possible to like you even more.

he pops one of the ramune shaped bites in his mouth and his eyes immediately widen in delight behind his amber sunglasses. pushing the glasses up his forehead to meet your eyes properly, you fail to tear away your eyes in time.

“sure you made these yerself, bunny? could've fooled me. these are restaurant quality. ” he says in between bites. his tone’s something he only uses around you and choji. vulnerable, safe, gently.

your heart’s beating way too fast for your own good.

“mhm. thought you might like that one because y’know… ramune and all.” you respond, “your favorite, right?”

with an acknowledging hum, he closes the box, twisting and admiring the beautifully decorated container, a forest green box speckled with gold and ornate lines. you really set the bar way up high for him. he smiles softly to himself and you swear you see his cheeks redden a tint.

“…can ya teach me to make them?” his voice grows softer, just enough for you to hear him. “how’s next weekend?” as soon as the words escape his lips, his heartbeat rises up to his throat. what if you didn't want to? he's never done this before, making the first move. he still can't fully grasp why you'd go so far as make something for him, someone who's only respected out of fear, someone who's wronged so many for just one cause. it haunts him sometimes. the Shishitoren could forgive him but he can't forgive himself. why would you?

you'll convince him soon enough. make him see what you see in him, what others see in him.

now's not that time though. your mind’s already in another dimension, thinking about him giving his date YOUR dessert with the recipe YOU made for him. letting out a soft disappointed sigh before opening your mouth, you respond, “maybe I could.“

“Maybe huh.” he echoes you, arching a brow at you with a small frown ghosting his lips.

“yeah, maybe. I could send the recipe over to you if you want. you could try making it with your date-“

“date? I want to make them for you next month, doofus. only you.” he retorts, wanting to get his point across. he realizes you're overthinking again. he's assuring you. meeting your eyes, he sees the shade of red on your cheeks darken. you look like a fish out of water, mouth agape and eyes wide. extending a hand towards you, he nudges your chin up with his knuckle. “y’know what that means right? I like you.”

a small gasp escapes your lips.

“you do..?” a pause. “why?”

he laughs, playfully pinching your cheek.

“I just do, cutie. always have. I take it you like me too?”

you nod. do it properly this time.

“yeah. I really do.”

he smiles, dimples deepening on his cheeks. he looks so relieved you like him back. you swear you feel like you’re on cloud nine — is this really happening?

“it’s a date then." he says as he reaches over to pat your head. "you better not flake on me, bun. Else I’d take that imaginary date of mine out instead.”

scoffing, you push his chest and he lets out a soft 'oof'.

“you wouldn't dare—“

“ARE YOU GUYS DATING YET??”

choji screams from the distance, the entire Shishitoren gang’s staring at you both from the ori, desperately waiting for the both of you to finish. they've been watching you both the entire time with bated breath. his friends are all cheering him on.

a pause.

togame reaches over to hold your hand, intertwining his long fingers through yours. hoots and hollers echo as he waves them off with a hand.

you could only smile up at him, squeezing his hand into yours.

he squeezes back.

a/n: hehehehe self doubt togame making me soft. MAKE HIM FEEL WORTHY GOD DAMN IT. DATE HIM AND DATE HIM HARD.

[xenteaart]

when you're feeling weak, i'll be the words if you can't speak

pairing: chan x reader (i wrote it with idol!chan or producer!chan in mind, but it can fit any au, really) genre/warnings: er, angst, hurt/comfort, implied suffering w depression and anxiety. reader is feeling off and insecure. also kinda going almost non verbal author's note: a short lil songfic ig coz it's inspired by Isak Danielson – I Can't Lose You. basically channie being a comfort boyfie material

to put it simply, you were never not anxious or insecure. but stepping into the big adult life, you sort of learned to conceal it well, even from your own self. the fake it till you make it thing, and you could even say you've "made it" with a small exception of the days where your brain and your entire nervous system randomly circled back to your default settings. "so what are you gonna eat, baby?" chan asks with a cheerful soft tone, glancing over the menu and then back at you.

today's a good day. you haven't been too overwhelmed with work, nothing out of the ordinary happened. so naturally, a pinch of guilt somewhere deep in your guts makes you feel like a bother to be around, and today — for no good reason.

"are you okay?" he notices your slightly spaced out gaze when you're trying to read the menu but not really reading, more like frowning and getting nervous.

"yeah.. no. no, i don't know," you murmur barely audibly, losing your focus for the tenth time in a span of the last five minutes. brain fog takes over, making your vision blurrier than normal and your thinking all floaty and hazy. as if you're looking at the world through dirty lenses, but also the lights are too bright and your surroundings are loud.

"i dunno, i just..." can't even speak for myself today and choose a meal and say it out loud because suddenly everything is embarrassing and difficult.

chris looks slightly worried because you might be in pain or feeling unwell, but nothing hurts except your pride. because you're a big girl, you have been for years, and now you want to cry on the spot because you can't choose between pasta and soup all of a sudden. it makes you feel even more stupid.

"can you please choose and order for me today? my brain just can't," you try to explain, visibly stressed and overwhelmed by a simple mundane task, "i want somethin' warm and filling," you specify to make it easier for chan.

he doesn't make a big deal out of it, just nods and meets you with a gentle 'course, baby. he then talks to the waiter and makes sure they don't ask you anything which feels like a relief. sometimes it's nice to feel invisible, especially in a vulnerable state.

after the horrifying deed is over with, chris leans in a little closer to be able to speak in a softer, quieter voice.

"d'you wanna just have dinner in silence and head home?" he asks while massaging your palm with his fingers soothingly, so calm and nonchalant as if you didn't just obsess over the smallest thing to the point of making yourself filled with shame and insecurity.

that's how chris always does it. by showing you that whatever it is that's bothering you is not a burden to him. he's got you. it's okay if you want or rather need him to do something for you. he's happy to be your strong shoulder to lean onto and not think about a single thing while he takes care of whatever it is at the time.

"yeah. or you can tell me about your day and stuff. i wanna know and i'm okay with listening. just not... responding, maybe?" you give him an awkward smile as he nods understandingly and plants a little kiss on the back of your hand. a modern gentleman and a caring lover.

somewhere in the middle of a story about how cubase was lagging and almost crashed mid producing session today, the waiter brings your meals. it's two pumpkin cream soups, some grilled and seasoned breads and a fresh greek salad to share.

oh, to be loved like this.

your stomach growls at the smell of food, and a bright proud smile is instantly painted over chan's features.

[happy74827]

Can you make more Joe Goldberg? You did such aan amazing job on the first one that I NEED a second one. Just please consider. Thank. Love your fics btw 💖💖💖

Lily of the Valley

[Joe Goldberg x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Coffee might not be his favorite, but things can change when it involves a person like you.

WC: 659

Category: Fluff

Fortunately, I already had this small idea in mind for our lovely stalker man and this request really just put the icing on top of the cake. Hopefully it fulfills your needs 🙌 (also you’re too sweet… thank you so much for the kind words 💞)

『••✎••』

Coffee. The hard, hot, and bitter drink that is the reason many people get out of bed each day and the reason why some people stay up until the early hours of the morning. He never understood the appeal.

But that didn't mean he didn't enjoy the smell of coffee beans roasting, the smell of fresh ground beans being poured into a filter, and the smell of the finished product. He didn't understand how something so bitter and disgusting could have such a calming and comforting smell.

Joe had been sitting in a booth in a coffee shop for the past few hours, watching the world outside go by, sipping a small mug of tea, and his current read, "The Woman In The Window" by A.J Finn, in front of him. His eyes were trained on the people going by, not really taking much of anything in. He was on autopilot, a default setting he slipped into whenever his mind was full of something else.

It was only when a waitress with a short, black pixie cut walked over to his table that his eyes come back into focus, and his thoughts began to slow down. She didn't look like she belonged in a coffee shop. With a long, floral dress, combat boots, and a cardigan, she was far too pretty and too interesting to be serving lattes. She was a rose in a garden full of daisies, a peacock among chickens.

Then, like a snap to reality, the sound of his name pulled him away from her and onto… you. The whole reason he was here in the first place.

If he thought the waitress was a rose, you were a whole bouquet.

"Jonathan! Are you going to order anything, or are you just going to keep sitting there, scaring all our other employees?" You said a laugh in your voice.

He hadn't even noticed the waitress had already left, and now, you were standing by the table, holding a coffee pot.

Yeah, he needs to stop letting his thoughts take over.

"No, no, I was just, uh, reading."

"Reading a book, or reading her?" You said, cocking your head to the side, indicating the waitress who had moved on to another table.

"Reading the book."

"Mhm, sure." You said, not at all convinced. God, he just wanted to kiss the smirk off your face. Those pretty lipstick-covered lips moving against his.

You shook your head, smiling.

"You want a muffin… or something? On the house, since you're a regular and all."

He looked down at the book again, then back up at you. Unlike the waitress, you were dressed for work in a black, collared shirt tucked into black pants and a black apron tied around your waist.

It told him a lot about you, like the fact that you were a rule follower organized. The other waitress played confidence to stand out. You wanted to blend in, but still, he noticed.

How could he not notice you?

"Sure."

"Blueberry, right? Your usual."

"Yeah."

"Okay. I'll be back in a second."

You had just turned to leave before you spun on your heel and stopped.

"And, Jonathan,” you paused. "That book in your hands? Wonderful read."

As you walked away, he realized how his heart had started to beat faster, and he couldn't stop the grin on his face.

A bouquet? No, you were something far more rare and far more beautiful than that.

You were an orchid.

And when you returned with that perfectly shaped muffin and that award-winning smile, Joe decided this would be the last time he ever chased a woman. Because this one?

You?

It was as though you were a mix between all his past loves and yet someone entirely new.

You were that new orchid in the greenhouse, the lily of the valley, and he wanted to nurture you and make you grow.

It's time to stop blending in; he would bring you out to bloom.

[pedgito]

𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐀 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄 | Javier Pena x fem!reader

summary | your boyfriend delivers the worst news possible on what should be a day filled with love. luckily your coworker is there in wait, not allowing a perfectly good dinner reservation to go to waste. [2.5k]

content warning | this is probably the tamest thing i've ever written, who am i? mostly fluff, vague descriptions of your boyfriend (technically ex-boyfriend/some misogyny (not by javi), small age gap, co-workers, dinner dates and more, unrequited (innocent) crushes, minimal spanish (mostly just pet names), open-ended

author’s note | @pascalispretty happy valentines day!! this is my first time doing one of these and i was your secret valentine, but i hope you enjoy! i haven't written for javi in so long and i was really craving some soft!javi so this was a joy to write. i hope you enjoy!

You hated the stigma around holidays and what they meant, what they entailed, and why people upheld them so highly. But, here you were—tapping your fingers insistently against the desk across from the pool of DEA agents who would throw a file of paperwork on your desk and expect it to magically poof away and, by default, relinquish themself of any responsibility over it in the process.

You couldn’t fault them all—some of them actually managed to follow instructions. A signature here and there, all in order, leaving with little work to do other than file it away. Murphy followed it to a degree that made you think he probably has some time of background outside of here, back in the states. Always uniform, always proper—he’d been a good addition from the start and a perfect match to Javier Pena’s strong personality and unwillingness to give up control.

He also smiled at you every morning and offered a kind greeting, a small acknowledgment of your existence which couldn’t be spared by many others.

As for Javier—he did the work. There was never an issue, but halfway through an expository to a question he asks his attention is drawn elsewhere. Usually to one of the other few in-office secretaries or visitors that just couldn’t resist a bite at the overconfident and suave agent.

You could see the appeal, but that didn’t mean you had to like it—sometimes it impeded your ability to communicate with him and it really, really annoyed you.

Plus, your boyfriend was perfect. Too perfect that it felt unreal at times, but as all things in your life tended to implode on you—you were waiting for the ball to drop.

“Buenos días, señorita.” Javier greets with a smile that shines perfectly under his thick mustache, dressed in his usual pairing of tight jeans and form-fitting button up. This one was pink though, or a deep red. Jesus, how many different ones did he own?

You snort softly, “Morning, Javi.”

And you’re expecting that crisp folder to slide onto your desk but he’s traversing down the steps into the bay of other desks, straight for his. He’s still in eyeline, his and Steve’s shared workspace right in the center.

His eyes flit up briefly, scanning the room before they land on you again and of course you’re staring, but not for the reasons he’s assuming. And there’s a fierceness behind your eyes that he’s seen before, like he’s about to be lectured.

You grab at an empty file on your desk and hold it up lazily, eyebrows raising in expectation. 

“Oh shit,” He curses lowly, but not soft enough for you to miss before he’s reaching in his desk and holding up the paperwork, “Here—I’ve got it.”

You pluck the item from his grip as he approaches, this time lingering. He’s got his fingers spread out wide on your desk and he leans, practically towers as you sift through his work quietly before jotting something down on a separate sticky note and filing it away for the time being.

“Sorry, bonita,” He apologized, some sincerity in his voice, “I stayed late last night and finished it up but you were already gone—I don’t forget, you know that.”

“All good,” You offer a polite smile and he still doesn’t move, nodding kindly to a few women that pass by, seemingly more done-up than usual, “big plans tonight?”

A man like Javier, there was no way he spent Valentine's Day alone.

Javier offers a non-commital shrug and nods his head in your direction, “What about you? You got that boyfriend, right? Kid with the glasses?”

And okay, Javier was a good chunk older than you. Ten years, maybe. But, kid? Please.

“Yes, that kid.” You roll your eyes light-heartedly. “Um, I reserved a table for dinner at that restaurant Steve recommended a couple months ago. The one he took Connie to.”

“Yeah—yeah, I know that place.” Been a few times, it lingers on his tongue. It didn’t matter if he went alone, the food was decent enough. “You made the reservation?”

“Come on, Javi,” You slap at his forearm gently, “It's not that big of a deal—besides I just…need a break. I thought dinner would be nice.”

“You know I can’t judge you for living at this place,” Javier says around a soft chuckle, “I’m guilty of it too.”

Many nights spent stuck in the office with just you and Javier—the occasional appearance of Steve. It led you to learn a few things about the men, even if inadvertently.

When leads were dry, Javier will go through half a pack in a day and Steve would chew at his fingernails almost constantly, tapping and fidgeting nearly nonstop. They both had obvious tells—a more obvious one for Javier being the close-mouthed smile he gave to women he wasn’t interested in but still remained polite to while the other, the unabashed grin was reserved for the women who piqued his interest.

He's given you both, but that was beside the point. 

“Any recommendations?” You ask curiously, fidgeting with the plastic clip on your pen.

Javier considers it briefly, lips pursing together as he taps his pointer finger in thought, “Well, the Pescado Frito they have is pretty good—can’t really go wrong with that.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” You note, leaning back in your chair as you spot Steve making his way into the office.

“I thought you hated holidays like this?” Javier questions curiously, a sentiment he shared. They seemed pointless outside of the few that offered him a reprieve from work.

You shrug, looking away briefly to avoid his steadfast gaze.

“Well, I don’t think all of us are impervious to stuff—I wanted to do something…nice. I guess?”

Javier isn’t entirely convinced, seeing the uncertainty in your shy smile but he lets it go, slapping the desk lightly before waving a quick goodbye as Steve pulls him aside.

It had to be intel—and good intel at that by the way Javier’s face morphs into sudden interest, thumb and pointer finger brushing over his mustache.

And really, you shouldn’t keep staring at him. Not with that dinner on the forefront of your mind, the one you had so meticulously planned out for you and your boyfriend.

Things had to be perfect. There was no other option.

But, then Javier chances another glance in your direction and something swells in your throat—anxiety, sadness. You can't quite place it, but you swallow it down. Force it away.

Only a few more hours to go.

-

The call comes an hour before you’re due to head home, already packing up your belongings preemptively. And you smile at the sound of your boyfriend’s voice.

It’s been a few months. Good months. Too good.

He was younger, like you—some IT guy in his earlier twenties with a kind heart. Or, so you assumed.

“Hey,” You answer softly, lightly into the phone, “reservations are in a couple hours.”

“About that,” His voice sounds off, distant, “I don’t think I can make it.”

Your heart drops into your stomach and you find yourself chewing at your bottom lip in worry, watching wearily as Javier and Steve hold matching coffees in their grip, marching back to their desks in sync. Javier’s gaze lingers for a moment, a normal motion he did just to check on you.

Nothing more.

But, he spots the change in your emotion.

Still, he continues on.

“What—I—I’ve had these reservations for two weeks,” You reply in a hushed voice, trying to contain your frustration, “what happened—what changed?”

“I just—I don’t really know how to say this,” The dread is immediate, but your mind is filled with anger—rigid, bitter anger that wants to bite, “I think we should break up.”

“Are you fucking serious?” The small outburst catches the attention of you people but you avoid their gaze, even more pointedly Javier, who’s gone from inconspicuously spying to full on gawking now, alongside Steve who had a sudden interest. They’ve never seen you like…this. “Today? This felt like a good thing to tell me today?”

“I’ve been trying—“

“You’re an asshole.” You bite harshly, “You can pick your shit up from my apartment this weekend.”

You don’t let him have the final word, slamming the phone back down into the receiver and ignoring the gathering stares and sparse, hushed whispers.

You could sit and wallow, allow yourself to stew in regret and worry, wondering what you did wrong—but you knew it wasn’t you. It couldn’t have been. All the trying and trying and trying you do, the maximum amount of effort met with little enthusiasm. You were naive to think that things would work,

You’re thankful when the shift nears its end and people file out quietly, albeit with a few side-stares, you find yourself mulling over the idea of canceling the reservation completely. But, then there was perfectly good, hard-earned money going to waste. And you could eat by yourself, but the idea seemed even more miserable as you had specifically booked a table for two, decorations and accommodation to match. It felt ridiculous, in hindsight. 

You pass the stack of paperwork off to your boss as you step into his office, scurrying back to your desk with your head down—already prepared to go home and wallow in your self-pity.

“You alright?” Javier asks suddenly, jumping slightly at his voice as you turn on your heels, hip bumping into your desk in the process, wincing at the pain, “shit—sorry.”

He’s smiling to lighten the mood but it doesn’t help.

“You’re…fine,” You wave him off, leaning into the weight of the desk as he lingers, fingers shoved into the front pockets of his pants, “I’m heading home in a bit.”

“No dinner?” He asks curiously—if he was attempting to be coy he was doing a terrible joy.

It was only minimally amusing, cracking a smug smile at his obvious prying. 

“No dinner,” You confirm, “and he broke up with me, so…”

“Cabrón,” He says under his breath, but it isn’t lost on you, “I’m sorry—that’s…fucked up.”

You shrug, “Now I’m debating on canceling and wasting the money I put down to reserve it or looking pathetic if I show up by myself—“

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with that.” Javier defends, speaking entirely from personal experience. 

“Javi, it’s Valentine’s Day.” 

“And?”

Suddenly though, you’re struck with an idea. 

“Are you busy?” You ask curiously and Javier raises a curious eyebrow your way and smirks, “No ladies in waiting tonight?”

“Not yet.” Javier jokes lightly, knowing his usual routine of hitting the bar after work would end in one of two ways, and even if he didn’t mind spending his nights alone, it was nice to be in the company of others in whatever capacity.

“Go with me.” You suggest, poking at his bicep. “Since you love the place so much.”

“Come on, hermosa,” Javier chides playfully, “If you wanted to take me on a date, just ask.”

You grin wide, heart fluttering at the flirtatious tone he carried in his voice—it wasn’t something you weren’t used to, but it was never so pointedly directed at you.

“I am,” You tell him, “I just—I’ll need to go home and change first.”

His brow furrows and he looks you over, seeing nothing wrong, “Why? You look fine. You always do.”

It’s something he tells you daily—and maybe he has his own selfish reasons, though you know he does it to most of the women in the office, but the way he’s saying it to you now feels different.

He means it, no humor in his voice.

“My—” You can’t even address him in the moment, rolling your eyes with full force as you rub your fingers over your forehead to will away the lines of stress that form there, “I just—he used to say work clothes never complimented me very well. I already had a dress picked out, I can be quick.”

“Save it. I think you look perfect.” Javier affirms softly, keys jingling in his back pocket as he fishes them out, “I’ll drive us.

“But, my car—”

And hand breaches your shoulder, hot to the touch as his fingers curl around your form.

“Hey,” He’s searching for your eyes, waiting until they lock with his own and he nods, expecting the same motion to make sure you’re with him, “I’ll drive you there and back, you don’t have to change—we can enjoy some good food and forget about your shitty boyfriend, alright?”

You nod quietly, earning a gentle squeeze in response.

–

It wasn’t a date, not in the slightest. But, Javier did his damndest to make you feel like it was.

And maybe it was the guilt over him knowing you just got dumped—that whatever you had spent so much time planning had fell out underneath you, but it didn’t quell the nervous anxiety that you felt as you both sipped on a shared bottle of wine and your separate dinners, watching Javier grimace around the lip of his wine glass.

“Horrible, right?” You laugh softly, watching as he forces the liquid down and nods jerkily.

“Food is great, though—the wine,” Javier makes a face of uneasiness that has you covering a laugh with your palm, “—that’s why I stick with tequila or whiskey.”

“Can’t say I have much of a preference,” You admit, “as long as it does the job.”

Javier nods knowingly, stabbing his fork into a piece of food and chewing thoughtfully, the fingers of his unoccupied hand rubbing together as an idea forms in his head, “You know, if you’re not busy I was going to meet up with Steve and Connie for a drink. Later tonight—if you’re interested?”

You can’t believe how instantly you want to agree, blaming it on your impulsivity. 

“Javi, I don’t know,” You respond quietly, “I don’t—I don’t really go out like that.”

“Well—that dress you were talking about. It wouldn’t go completely to waste if you wanted to wear it out tonight. Plus, you treated me to a nice dinner—let me treat you to a couple drinks.”

It sounds like the perfect idea. Too perfect. Too good to be true.

“Javi,” You tease shyly, “if you’re trying to ask me out on a date just say it.”

Javier chuckles softly and you know it’s only an attempt to make a shitty day not so shitty, but the underlying chase you two have allowed to happen for so long now was unobscured by outside forces and you hated how easy it was for him to distract you from everything that had transpired today.

“Is that a yes?” Javier teases.

You sigh reluctantly, though a subtle grin pulls at your face, eyes soften at the expectant look on Javier’s face, all puppy-eyed and nothing like the man you’re used to seeing in the office. This was a side of him that felt new and you were curious to discover more. You nod.

“Well, hermosa—I guess it’s a date then.”