#but yes the multi is ready to be back soon

[dykesynthezoid]

Jacob talks about how after season 1 when they were first getting down to writing season 2, all of the main actors had long video conversations w Rolin and the gang about what they felt was really important to include for their character going into the next season, which is great bc it gave us things like Paul’s portrait and more exploration of how Louis has failed and mistreated Claudia, but also.

Assuming they’ll be doing the same thing going into season 3. Extremely funny to have two of your actors yapping to the press about how much their characters should bang next season, with the full knowledge that soon you will have to get on a multi-hour zoom call with them about it. Like, well, I have an inkling what one of your requests might be, don’t I. Great to know you’re… “ready to rock,” Eric, thank you for that. We’ll have to get back to you on the threesome, Assad. Yes we know Luke would be down for it, he’s been, uh, pretty clear about that.

[xlatrina]

(Pt. II.1) Friends to Lovers HCs w/Homicipher x GN!Reader

Tags: Platonic + Romantic HCs, Friends to Lovers trope for basically every LI, Likely OOC for some LIs*, Mini Scenarios (so HCs are kinda plot-driven), *Multi-Part Series, entirely SFW

Also, changing tenses in some cases + not proofread again... sorry!

*Some of the LIs are likely written OOC (Out Of Character) mainly due to a lack of substantial in-game appearances (at least in my opinion!). 

*Split into multiple parts because I’ve come to realize that these HCs are muuucccchhh too long 😅 BUT!! I’m too lazy to shorten them sooo… YEAH lol

Part I (Big 🙆‍♂️)

Part II (Mr. Chopped 🪓)

Part III (Mr. Crawling 👣)

$$$

Mr. Chopped (First Half/Second Half)

For someone who’s just a head, he gets around!

When you decided to help him out back in that weird room, Mr. Chopped was so elated.

Yes, yes!! Finally, some help!!

He’s been stuck in that room for like… three hours.

Which isn’t that bad, it definitely could’ve been worse, but like… still.

Anywho, point is —he decided from that moment forward that the two of you are friends!

Good friends, at that.

He tells Mr. Silvair this all the time.

“Mystery person help! They help me! They friendly!” He’ll grin from ear to ear, his cheeks squeezing into his eyes.

And Mr. Silvair will just chuckle and say something along the lines of, “Mystery person good? How interesting.”

Mr. Chopped has volunteered you to be one of his closest buddies.

Which means you are now basically his caretaker LMAO

Or at least whenever Mr. Silvair is unavailable somehow.

“Could you carry? Can you help me?”

This’ll become a common request from Mr. Chopped.

Eventually, it goes from asking to demanding.

“You take me! Go there! Yes, yes! That way! Is ok. This place I know good!”

He says that, but you’ve circled the same set of halls like… three times.

It can get a little weary sometimes being Mr. Chopped’s defacto caretaker, but he tries to keep your mood light with his silly banter.

Even though he’s been in the Apartments longer than you, it seems he hasn’t been there as long as others.

He more or less explains this to you over time.

On one of your many adventures through the halls of the apartment complex, the both of you came across a door that led into a stairwell.

It was odd because it kind of just… appeared.

You’ve definitely walked down this hall quite a few times now (no thanks to Mr. Chopped’s fluctuating sense of direction).

When you propose going through the stairwell, Mr. Chopped purses his lips tightly and falls silent for a long time.

Just as you get ready to ask again, he huffs, blowing some loose strands away from his face.

“That way want to go?” He asks. But before you can respond, he follows up with, “That ok. If there to go you want, that ok. But I not know that place…”

Ah…

Well! If nothing else, you can’t say Mr. Chopped isn’t adventurous!

Being friends with Mr. Chopped means you get to see all of his cute little expressions.

He always has an exaggerated reaction to everything!

Walking through the stairwell, for example, one of the lights flickered, and just as it went completely black for a second, there was a quiet whisper. When the lights came back on, the whisper bounced through the area, lifting up toward wherever the stairs led to…

When that happened, Mr. Chopped immediately asked, “What you say? I not hear good.”

“I didn’t say anything,” you said. Mr. Chopped seems confused by your response, and to the best of your ability, you repeat yourself in his language. 

“You say you not make sound?” He asks sharply, his voice thundering through the stairwell.

You jump in surprise, jostling him (much to his mild annoyance and discomfort).

“No, no make sound,” You said. “Do you make sound?”

“No! No make sound!” Mr. Chopped yells. Small tears gather in the corners of his eyes, and he squeezes them shut as a deep frown seeps into his face.

“Leave here together! Me scared! This place not safe!”

Safe to say you booked the both of you out of there as soon as you could.

It isn’t too long after that, though, that the two of you finally find yourself in the familiar hall leading to the basement. There, you two find Mr. Silvair just as he’s about to enter the room, and noticing your approaching figure at the top of the stairs, Mr. Silvair smiles warmly.

He lets you and Mr. Chopped in first, and it’s then that you both begin to tell Mr. Silvair about y’all’s odd experience.

Though, Mr. Chopped did more of the talking…

So much more of the talking, lol.

At some point, you and Mr. Silvair find yourselves sitting on the couch, and Mr. Chopped nestles into the space between you two.

He just continues to babble on and on and on about the somewhat scary adventure you both had, and you and Mr. Silvair patiently listen.

Sometimes, you wonder who can yap more —Mr. Chopped or Mr. Crawling?

That being said, Mr. Chopped likely develops feelings for you after just being in your presence for long enough.

He greatly appreciates you helping him maneuver through the Apartments, and he knows Mr. Silvair appreciates your help, too.

These days, Mr. Chopped finds himself talking with both Mr. Silvair and you!

And soon, there are many moments more when Mr. Chopped finds himself talking with you alone.

You’re just so fun to talk to, he feels like he can talk to you about anything!

Continue? -> Second Half

[Part I (Mr. Big 🙆‍♂️) | Part II (Mr. Chopped 🪓, First Half/Second Half), Part III (Mr. Crawling 👣)]

[inawickedlittletown]

Made From Scratch (BuckTommy) - one-shot

Summary: Tommy's birthday is coming up, Buck decides to bake him a cake and Jee-Yun helps.

Words: 4k

Read on Ao3

-

“Do you even know how to bake a cake?” Maddie asked, skeptically. 

“I got some pointers from Bobby. I think I got this, Maddie.” He waved the recipe he’d printed out at her. 

His sister eyed him a bit more and then she shook her head. “Okay, all I’m saying is do you have the number for the bakery for if it doesn’t work?” 

“Maddie, we’ll be alright. And no, Jee is not going to get in my way. Don’t you have to get to work?” 

Maddie glanced at her phone. “Oh. Yes. Yes I do. Jee!” 

Jee, who had been running around with a little toy car that apparently could drive on walls, ran in their direction and into Maddie’s legs. Maddie hugged her and kissed the top of her head. 

“Be good for your uncle.” 

As soon as Maddie was gone, Buck turned to Jee-Yun. “Ready for some fun with your uncle Buck?”

“Yes!” she cried out, smiling big. 

Buck grinned. “I thought you could help me out with something really important.” 

“Really?” She asked, head tilting to the left. “What?” 

“Well, we’re going to make a birthday cake.” 

“Is it my birthday?” Jee asked, eyes wide. 

Buck chuckled. “No. Not for a while yet.” 

Jee narrowed her eyes on him. “But I get cake?” 

“Yes, Jee. You’ll get cake.” 

“Oh. Alright, then.” 

Buck had gone and bought all the ingredients the night before. He’d been on the phone with Bobby the whole time for recommendations on what he should buy exactly and what the difference was between vanilla extract and vanilla beans and vanilla paste. Or why the store carried so many different flours and what exactly was buttermilk. 

“And why are you insisting on baking a cake?” Bobby asked. 

“It’s for Tommy,” Buck had admitted. “His birthday is coming up and no one has ever made him a cake before so I thought I’d try.” 

“I’m sure he’ll appreciate it, no matter the result.” 

So, he already had everything laid out on the counter. He’d even done as Bobby suggested and brought the eggs and butter out earlier to get them to room temperature. 

“First things first, Jee. We have to wash our hands.” 

He pushed the box that she could use to reach the counter towards the sink and she climbed on it easily. After they both washed and dried their hands, Buck reached for the tiny Jee sized apron. She squealed when she saw it, jumping in place. 

“Okay, okay, hold your horses.” 

“I don’t got any horses,” Jee said, but she did stop jumping long enough for Buck to put the apron over her head and then try the ends at her back. 

Buck put on his. 

“Now we’re ready, Jee.” 

All in all, yes the kitchen did get messy. So did their aprons and in Jee’s case her face and her hair. Jee was helpful, she liked to listen to Buck explaining why they were doing something a certain way and she liked to hold the whisk. She also really liked licking the batter off the whisks or the attachments for the hand mixer when they were done using them. 

Maybe between him and Jee they lost a couple of eggs, but overall, they had what looked correct for cake batter. 

“That’s not cake,” Jee commented.

“Not yet. It has to bake first. That’s why we preheated the oven, remember?” 

She looked back at his oven and nodded. 

The pans they had greased earlier were ready too and Buck poured equal amounts of batter in each while Jee watched, filling them just about ¾ of the way full. He left the remaining batter in the bowl. 

“What are you doing with the rest?” Jee asked. 

“That’s for cupcakes,” Buck announced. 

Her eyes widened when Buck pulled out the cupcake tin and the package of liners. 

“Now, I have an important job for you, Jee. You need to put one of those papers in each cup, alright?” 

“I can do that,” Jee said. 

Buck opened the package for her, but let her dig out the cupcake liners. She looked at each one. Buck had bought those specifically for her so they were multi-colored and Jee was picking out her favorite colors and arranging them into the cupcake tin. While she was busy with that, Buck made sure the oven was still at the right temperature. 

“Ready?” he asked Jee when he turned back. 

After getting the batter distributed into the cupcake liners, Buck took care of putting everything in the oven, keeping Jee well away from it, he handed her the egg timer. 

“Alright, Jee, now we have to bake for about forty-five minutes. Do you see the four and five?” 

She pointed at the forty-five. 

On his phone he put a timer for twenty-five minutes because the cupcakes would likely be done earlier.

“Move it until it points to it. When it goes off we can take the cake out.” 

“Cake!” she cried out. 

Buck grinned at her. “Yes. But we need to make frosting too. First maybe we clean up a little.” 

He took her to the bathroom and used a cloth to clean her face. He had her shake off most of the flour out of her hair and ran his wet fingers over it for good measure. Buck could tell that she was already kind of over the baking and more excited for the prospect of eating cake. It was exactly why Buck had made enough cake batter to make cupcakes too. 

“Do you want a snack?” Buck asked. “All that baking was kinda tiring, don’t you think?” 

Jee put her pointer finger on her chin and Buck wished he had had his phone on hand to take a picture, but he’d left it on the counter. 

“Snack time,” she said with a nod. 

“Awesome. Fruit okay?”

He got together a quick plate of different fruit. Apple slices and strawberries and banana pieces. Added pieces of celery and baby carrots for good measure. He put Jee at the table and she seemed happy to just sit there and eat. The peace wouldn’t last long, but it gave Buck time to read over the frosting portion of the recipe. He was opting for as simple as possible, so buttercream was the way to go. It did make him wish for a stand up mixer, though, just so he didn’t have to hold the hand mixer for as long as it took for butter and sugar to cream. 

Buck got started on it, getting the sugar and the butter into the bowl with a bit of vanilla. He checked on the cake and cupcakes before he began to mix it. Jee perked up at the noise 

“Whachu doing, uncle Buck?” 

“Making the frosting. It’s kinda boring, so if you want to keep resting, you can. I have a  big job for you later.” 

“Okay,” she said easily. 

Buck knew that in a moment she was going to leave the table and maybe bring out her coloring books or ask for him to put Bluey on. The mind of a three year old could only focus on one thing for so long, after all. 

The mixer did the work, getting the chunks of butter and the sugar together. Everything really was coming together and the smell from his oven made him feel sure that the cake was going to come out well. All his research and planning was working out. 

An hour or so later he had the cakes and cupcakes cooling. His frosting was in the fridge. He was cleaning the kitchen while Jee enjoyed The Little Mermaid. Buck was glad that his Disney+ subscription was coming in handy. He heard her trying to sing along to the songs and it sounded so off key and adorable that he couldn’t help but go over and film a quick video that he immediately sent to Chim and Maddie. Was it even cuter that she did still have some flour in her hair? Probably. 

Buck waited until the movie was over before calling Jee back over to the kitchen. 

“Now, we’re going to have some fun. Time to put the apron back on.” 

She looked at him curiously as he helped her put the apron back on. “Fun? How?” 

“Decorating,” Buck said. 

“Decorating?” 

“Yeah. Cupcakes first. Now, you have to help me pick what color we want.”

Jee was indecisive until she finally just picked purple and blue and green and pink. An hour later Buck didn’t know how she managed to get so much frosting on his walls and cabinets and…wait, did she get some on the ceiling too? Jee really was something special. The cupcakes had frosting and sprinkles all over them and Jee was just excited that she was getting to eat one. He’d be sending them home with her when Maddie came to pick her up too. Well, after he tried one. 

Buck set her up on the table atop a plate and paper towels and got back to the cake. He luckily didn’t have to cut a lot off the top of each cake to make them even and straight. Trying a bit of the piece he’d cut he was happy with the taste. Impressed, even. The recipe had done him well. 

He got frosting atop one of the cakes and then brought out the strawberries he’d cut earlier specifically for this, spreading them evenly and then adding the second cake. It looked good even just like that, but he wanted it to be more impressive so he began to add more frosting to the top and sides. 

By the time he was done, Jee had managed to finish her cupcake and come investigate. 

“Needs sprinkles,” she announced. 

“You know, I think so too,” Buck told her. “Want to help?” 

“Yes.” 

—

Birthdays were…well, Tommy had never been too fond of his own birthday. It was one of those things that most people just didn’t understand. Birthdays were supposed to be exciting and happy. That had never been Tommy’s experience, at least, not as far as he remembered. Maybe his first few birthdays had been different and happier. Celebrated. Mostly, Tommy remembered forgotten birthdays and days spent trying to not be in the middle of some fight between his parents. 

Some years they had used it like another weapon in their arsenals, fighting over who got to spend it with Tommy only to then ignore him, happy to have won over the other, but not thrilled at the prospect of having to celebrate Tommy’s birthday. They did get him presents, a way to one-up each other. Tommy didn’t even want half the stuff they bought him. They never cared to learn enough about him to know what Tommy wanted or needed. 

The first time he saw Sixteen Candles, he’d related to Samantha a bit more than expected and even then, knowing his interests lay in boys, he’d wished for his own cute boy to come through to light up a cake with candles for him. It was a silly thought. 

Birthdays were better off ignored. He liked the peace of not acknowledging another year. For a long time, after he learned about leap years, Tommy had wished his birthday was on the 29th of February instead of in November. 

Tommy hadn’t meant for Evan to find out that Tommy’s birthday was coming, but on the drive back from the curse breaking funeral Evan had insisted on having for Billy Boils, Tommy had gotten pulled over. One speeding ticket later and Tommy had no idea when his license wound up in Evan’s hands. 

“Wait, your birthday is coming up,” Evan had said. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I, uh, I don’t usually celebrate.” 

“What?” Evan asked. “That’s insane. You came with me to Chris’ virtual birthday party and even wore a cone hat. You asked me about when Jee-Yun’s birthday is. How do you not care about your own birthday?” 

So, Tommy had let out a big sigh. “I’ve just never really had good birthdays.” 

“Not even when you were a kid?” 

“No. My parents divorced when I was seven? But even before that they were fighting all the time and I was caught in between even on my birthdays. I guess the only good thing to come out of it was cake. Some years they both went out of their way to one up each other even with the cake they bought and meanwhile I was jealous of the kids whose moms made them a cake from scratch. They took the joy out of it. It’s always just been easier not to make a big deal out of it.” 

He didn’t add that after leaving home at eighteen, Tommy hadn’t had anyone to celebrate with. Neither of his parents had been interested in keeping up with Tommy after he went off on his own, they were probably glad to be rid of the one thing that still tied them together. Then, once they found out that Tommy was gay, it had truly and firmly closed that door. 

“Well, now that I know when it is we’re going to celebrate,” Evan said. 

Tommy shook his head. “No. I rather not. Anyway, I’m working that day and you shouldn’t have to go out of your way.” 

“Tommy,” Evan had said then, “if I want to celebrate my boyfriend being born, I will celebrate. You can’t stop me.” 

So, he was a bit resigned to whatever Evan had planned. Tommy felt weird about it, was all. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate that Evan was doing something for him, it just felt unnecessary and like Evan was going to some trouble for no reason at all. He was a little nervous that Evan was thinking of throwing a party or something because that would just be a tad too much especially when it would revolve around him. As much as Tommy saw of the 118 because of Evan, he still didn’t quite fit with them. He didn’t like to think about the possibility of him and Evan not working out, but he didn’t think he would retain anyone from the 118 if that happened. 

Tommy was at work when midnight struck on his birthday. No one at Harbor was aware what day it was and Tommy wanted to keep it that way. They’d had a relatively easy night. Straight forward calls that were quick and easy. He was considering going to try and catch some sleep before the next call came, when he phone rang. 

“Hi, Evan,” he said. 

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” Evan shouted. 

Tommy winced and hoped desperately that Lucy and Melton and their ridiculously good  hearing didn’t catch it. 

“Jeez, warn a guy before you start yelling,” Tommy said. 

“Sorry,” Evan said, quieter. “But, happy birthday, Tommy.” 

“Thank you, Evan,” Tommy said. “Is that all?”

“Hmm, what are you wearing?” 

Tommy laughed. “Evan,” he said, “we’re both on shift.” 

“So your flight suit, uh? Sounds hot.” 

“Evan,” Tommy said, half laughing. 

“All I’m saying is that birthday sex is pretty hot,” Evan said. 

Tommy rolled his eyes. The thing that he’d discovered about Evan was that he really had one speed and he sped right into everything. It had happened when Evan was first figuring out he was bi and it had happened as soon as they had started to get a bit more physical. Tommy hadn’t expected it, but then he’d been going off his own experiences. He’d been expecting everything to go slower and to have to walk Evan through it and explore what he might like and want because going from only having sex with women to having sex with men was a leap. Evan jumped right in and Tommy found himself slowing things down for his own comfort. 

“Birthday sex?” he asked. 

“Yes,” Evan said. “I did say I wanted to celebrate you.” 

Birthday sex. Not a party. Not something elaborate or nerve inducing. Just Evan and him…it was, he felt relieved. When it was just him and Evan, Tommy felt…settled was the only word that came to mind. There was an ease between them. From the start there had been attraction and a pull towards Evan that was hard to deny, but after that had come something else. They were comfortable around each other, knew enough to want to be together and maybe even hope for a longer future. 

“Well, that’s just one of the ways,” Evan clarified. “Anyway, I’ll see you tomorrow — later today. Be safe.” 

“You too.” 

Tommy managed to catch some sleep, waking up when they were getting called out around 5am. His shift didn’t end until noon and most of his morning was spent up in a helicopter. It was kind of the best way to spend any day, but especially his birthday. 

Evan hadn’t specified his plans for Tommy’s birthday, so after getting back into his own clothes, Tommy gave his phone a check — found nothing — and headed home. That little anxious part of himself that expected disappointment told him that Evan was probably still busy at work and that he’d actually already told Tommy happy birthday at like 12:01am. 

He wasn’t home for even an hour before he heard a knock on his door, except that it couldn’t be Evan because he had his own key unless he’d forgotten it. Tommy went to open the door and the first thing he saw was balloons. Then, behind them Chim and Maddie. 

“Uh. Hi,” Tommy said. 

“Happy birthday, Tommy,” Chim said. 

“Happy birthday!” Jee-Yun shouted. 

Tommy let them in. Chim leading Jee-Yun inside with all the balloons. Maddie stepped towards Tommy. 

“I hope it’s okay we just showed up. Feel free to kick us out,” Maddie said. “We went to pick you up a balloon and things kinda spiraled.” She pointedly looked at Chim and Jee. 

“I see,” Tommy said. 

“Happy birthday,” Maddie said and extended a gift bag out to him. 

“Oh,” Tommy said. “I — thank you.” 

Maddie just smiled at him and reached for the door to close it behind her. 

“Don’t worry,” she said, “we won’t be here very long.” 

“Do you guys want something to drink? Or snack on?”

He directed them into the living room, glad that it was tidy, a result of Evan being around. Tommy wasn’t exactly messy, but Evan was on another level of fastidious when it came to cleaning and putting everything back where it belonged. 

Maddie, Chim, and Jee-Yun didn’t stay long. Just long enough for Tommy to open his present. It was, funnily enough, a six pack of Tommy’s favorite craft beer. 

“Really?” Maddie asked. 

Chim grinned. “What? I know what he likes.” 

Tommy rolled his eyes. “Am I going to find a monster truck and a dvd of Love, Actually?” 

“No. That would have been a good idea,” Chim said. 

Instead, he found a nice sweater. It was soft, a burgundy color. It definitely looked to be his size and he could imagine that it would be perfect to wear on a date night with Evan. 

“Thank you,” he said, directing it at Maddie. 

She smiled back at him. “Least we could do since Buck didn’t seem to think you wanted a party or anything.” 

“There’s always next year,” Chim said. 

Maddie ushered Chim and Jee out of the house a little bit after that and Tommy was left a little bewildered. This was definitely Buck’s doing and as he ran his hand over the sweater, he couldn’t help but feel warm. He took the beer into the kitchen and the sweater to his bedroom. He’d only just set it down on his bed when he heard the front door open and close. Evan. 

He heard Evan walk through to the kitchen and he seemed to be puttering around in there. Tommy followed the noise. 

“Wait, don’t come in yet,” Evan shouted. “Give me like five minutes. Better yet, I’ll come to you.” 

“Uh…okay. I’ll be in the living room.” 

The balloons were still where Howie had left them on the coffee table. There were five in total, all some variation of happy birthday. He admired them for a moment and took a seat. He heard Evan moving about still, so he decided to pull out his phone. 

There was a text from Eddie wishing him a happy birthday, another from Hen, and to his surprise one from Karen too. He sent them all back a thanks. This was all a result of Evan and he couldn’t even be mad that he’d gone and told the 118 about his birthday. 

When he heard Evan leave the kitchen, he stood and put his phone down. 

“What are you—” 

Then, he saw him. Evan was carrying a cake on Tommy’s own teak wood cutting board. The frosting was a nice sky blue and it was covered in sprinkles. It wasn’t perfect, a bit lumpy on the edges and the sprinkles were not evenly dispersed and there was a candle right in the middle, already lit. 

“Happy birthday, Tommy,” Evan said, grinning. 

He met Evan’s eyes over the cake. Evan had made him a birthday cake. 

“Evan, did you make—”

He couldn’t even finish the words because it looked like a homemade cake, the type that Tommy had never had other than when they were for other kids whose mom or grandma would go to the trouble. 

“Yeah,” he breathed out. “Didn’t even use a cake mix. Now blow out the candle and make a wish.” 

He leaned over and blew it out, but didn’t know that he could come up with anything to wish for. Tommy had everything he’d ever wanted, if he really thought about it. He then took the cutting board from Evan’s hands and placed it safely on the coffee table next to the balloons, before he took Evan’s face between his hands and pulled him into a kiss. 

“Thank you,” he said between kisses. “You’re amazing.” 

“Hmmm, you’re amazing too,” Evan said back, pressing himself even closer to Tommy and drawing him into a deeper kiss. 

When a knock came at the door, Evan groaned, but pulled away. “I’ll get it,” he said. 

It gave Tommy time to admire the cake some more. He took a picture of it for good measure, including the balloons and then he opened his instagram. Tommy rarely if ever used it, but this felt like something so monumental that he needed to post it. He tagged Evan and added: 

Feeling pretty special today. 

Evan returned, carrying a bag with the logo of Tommy’s favorite Italian restaurant. 

“I figured neither of us is up to going out,” Evan said. “So, dinner. Cake. And I wasn’t kidding about the birthday sex.” 

Tommy laughed. “By now I’ve learned you don’t kid about sex.” 

“So what first?” Evan asked, big smile, eyebrows raised. 

“Hmm, no one says we can’t bring some cake to bed and we’ll definitely be hungry after.” 

Evan laughed, but hurried along to the kitchen and Tommy was quick to follow with the cake. While cutting them both slices, Tommy found Evan watching him. 

“Thank you,” Tommy said, smiling. “I think it may be the best birthday I ever had.” 

Evan wrapped an arm around his waist, leaning into him. “Next year will be better.” 

It was the surety in Evan’s words, the conviction that he would be around for Tommy’s next birthday and the way that Tommy knew that with more time and preparation, Evan would make his next birthday into a bigger thing. Tommy wanted him around for his next birthday and the next and the one after that. None of that was scary to think about. 

Tommy took his first bite of the cake once he’d handed Evan his own slice. 

“Hmm, this is good.” 

It was sweet, in particular the frosting, but the cake itself was a soft vanilla. The strawberries in the center juicy and tangy. Perfect. 

[sweetteainthesummerx]

THE LOVE LASTS SO LONG (9)

In which Aubrey gets interviewed...

series masterlist

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

ellemagazine posted

ellemagazine Our June edition features Aubrey Yang on her directing debut, the trajectory of her career and new friends in Formula One. Full article linked in bio.

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user1 ON MY HANDS AND KNEES BARK BARK SHES SO FINE

aubreyyang thank you for having me Elle! always a blast 💋

-- aubberieloverss MOTHERRR

dior.n.goodjohn ILY UR SO BEAUTIFUL AND ETHERAL

-- aubreyyang stawpp ur making me blush

formula1 thank you for the shout out! hope to see you in the Ferrari paddocks soon 🏎️

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-- f1wagsupdates BAHAHA f1 admin ur brave for that one

lilymhe prettiest girl

-- aubreyyang me and dior miss u tons! can't wait to see u soon

mvertsppdudu can ollie fight ill catch him in the paddocks

ELLE MAGAZINE

NEW ISSUE

INTERVIEW WITH AUBREY YANG

Aubrey Yang, the multi-faceted actress debuts her talent and grit for directing and screenwriting in her short film Pelt, winning the Best Screenplay and a notable nominee for the Best Film during London Film week. Since we've last seen her at Elle New York, she has turned 18, nearing 19 now, and made some drastic changes to her life.

Since her film, Yang has not been in any other production as talent, but teases us with a new project "that's coming soon, don't worry". She adores her new found love for being a creative, and is scouting to get her hands on more projects in Hollywood on that side of the camera.

Her studies continue at New York University and she is set to graduate early, next year. When asked about her ability to balance school and work, she smiles knowingly and tells us that "it's important to take breaks, but more importantly, I've chosen things I love to do".

During these breaks, Yang is often seen with fellow young actress Dior Goodjohn and international pop sensation Olivia Rodrigo. But 18 has brought a new hobby: Formula One.

"I met Lily [Muni He] and Alex [Albon] at a gala, and we hit it off. They're like my parents" she answers adoringly. She has been seen multiple times in both the Williams and Ferrari garages visiting with fans and learning about the mechanics of racing.

"I've met some wonderful people; I never really got to be a regular teenager because I was working and going to university early. They've really helped teach me about having fun and letting loose."

Next year when we inevitably feature her lovely face again, we'll see the new changes to her life.

MESSAGES

ollie

I read ur article it was great

sad I didn't get a shout out tho :(

aubrey

sorry boo

PROMISE TO GIVE YOU ONE NEXT YEARR

ollie

okay :)

anyways r we still on for the trip?

aubrey

yes mr. bearman

ollie

I was thinking Charles and Alex might want to go w us

aubrey

YESSS MY FAV MONAGESQUES

ollie

gotta go but talk later? ☺️

aubrey

kk cya bearman

ollie

bye yang :)

MESSAGES

alex 🖼️

cou cou chérie!

(hey dear)

aubrey 🎬

AHH ALEX J'avais l'intention de t'envoyer un texto ! On part en voyage en Europe ?

(I was meaning to text you, are we on for the Europe trip?)

alex 🖼️

yes but I have smth to ask

aubrey 🎬

um not the English what's wrong

alex 🖼️

DO U LIKE OLLIE

aubrey 🎬

UM BYE WHY

alex 🖼️

bc I have to watch him text u and its dégoûtant

(disgusting)

aubrey 🎬

bro idk

dior thinks we like each other

its just hes becoming such a good friend

he makes me smile

and hes so sweet and kind and gentle

hes not like any other guy ik

alex 🖼️

its going to be such a long trip 😔

aubreyyang posted on their story

olliebearman replied to your story

cute 😊

aubreyyang

ikr shes my cousins baby

olliebearman

oh

very cute

wanna play 9 ball on message

aubreyyang

YOURE ON

bearyfast_04 posted

bearyfast_04 I think im ready to be a father

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, leosdad and 10 others

leosdad fatherhood is hard

-- landoakabob u have a dog

-- leosdad u take that back hes my son

pastryboy SIR U ARE 21 WDYM CHILDREN

-- bearyfast_04 but look at her 🥰

-- arthuranddw another fallen soldier

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

Taglist: @callsignwidow @iloveyou3000morgan @honethatty12 @taygrls

© sweetteainthesummerx.tumblr. all rights reserved. unauthorized copying, translation, or claiming of my writing or any works as your own is strictly prohibited.

[mrchiipchrome]

Blessing In Disguise

W.C. - 1.8 k

This was originally a song request, if you want to request then there's a prompt list linked in my masterlist.

prompt 30. -Maybe it’s a blessing in disguise.

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

Signing for a new club is supposed to be fun, exciting and sometimes even scary. For you, all those emotions were robbed from you by a girl who’d decided to break your heart. 

The relationship hadn’t been going on for long, only a couple of months, but in that short period of time you had managed to fall for the girl completely. The girl who’d only gotten with you for shits and giggles.

So there you stood, taking pictures in the red Arsenal kit, all while trying not to cry. ‘Stupid, stupid people. Stupid, stupid me.’ You think, biting your cheek lightly as the photographer calls for you to do another pose.

‘Olaf and puppies, just keep thinking about Olaf and puppies.’ You have to keep from snorting at your own thoughts, the children’s character always turning your frown upside down.

“YES! That’s it, there’s that smile!” The shouted words startle you slightly, but what startles you even more is the Irish accent that accompanies them. You hadn’t even noticed anyone else sneaking into the room.

“Katie! How’d you get in?” The American accent of the photographer contrasts the harsh Dublin of one Katie McCabe.

“Through the door” She pauses in the middle of her sentence to roll her eyes overenthusiastically. “I wanted to meet the newbie before anyone else” She nearly shouts, sticking her hand out for you to shake.

As soon as you grasp it, she pulls your much taller frame into her own. Her strong arms wrap around your waist, your left arm wrapping around her shoulders reluctantly.

She pulls away from the embrace nearly as quickly as she started it, leaving you to strangely enough, miss her touch.

“You are much taller than you look in the pictures!” The signature smile she flashes you has your knees weakening slightly, butterflies fluttering their wings inside you in a completely different way than it had for that girl. 

This time it was more than just attraction, you could sense that she was a genuine person.

“What d’ya mean?” Katie feels her heart flutter at the furrow in your brow, heart eyes forming despite having met officially only moments before.

“I’ve seen pictures of ya, you look short” You send the multi positional player a playful glare, the woman herself having to tilt her head up to look you in the eye.

“Sure I do Mickey, sure I do.” Now it’s her turn to look confused, the nickname something entirely new to her.

“Mickey? Where’d you get that from?” Her accent continues to play with your heart, if a heart monitor had been connected to you then it would show a clear spike in heart rate. 

“I guess you’ll just have to figure it out because I won’t tell you Mickey.” Out of your peripherals you can see the photographer giving up.

“Girls, if you could both face me for a second so that we can get a decent photo” Mr. Photographer calls out sassily, tapping his foot against the floor in wait. When Katie looks you in the eye, you both have to keep from laughter.

Turning towards the man, Katie slips her arm back around your waist while you place your arm around her shoulders. Your other hand makes the motion of pointing at her, the Irish woman smiling brightly.

After a few clicks of the camera, Mr. Photographer lets you start to pack up, ready to go back to your hotel.

“You want a ride home?” With your back to her, you don’t notice Katie’s intense gaze settled on your back. Her eyes scan the entirety of your backside, getting stuck on your ass for a few seconds too long.

“See anything you like Mickey?” The teasing tone tells her that you’re joking, still she can’t help but let the blush take over her face. 

“Sooo, do you need a ride home?” She questions once again, looking on as you ponder for a second.

“Yeah sure, if it’s not too much trouble.” Humming, the Irish woman lets you lead the way out of the room before walking shoulder to shoulder with you.

The drive back to your temporary home was uneventful, the two of you talking about the club and your expectations. The way she waves at you when you step out of the car makes you all giddy.

Surprisingly, the only thing you can think about when you settle into your bed later that night is the Ireland captain. It’s like she turned your world upside down with one simple look into your eyes. 

Your phone buzzes beside you on the bedside table, Mr. Photographer having sent a text with all the photos from the day for you to post.

Thankfully, the announcement of your arrival to the club had been made earlier, so you didn’t have to worry about that.

Still, you pick your phone up and scroll through the photographs he sent you, finding the best one of you and Katie together.

You can’t help but giggle as you type out the caption to the instagram story, the picture of Katie barely reaching your shoulder is hilarious in its simplicity.

‘Taller than I look, right Mickey?’ You typed before tagging her and posting it. Oh how you already love the team dynamics.

——-

“You dick!” The soft smile on your face turned into a full fledged smirk, Katie’s loud voice booming all throughout the hallway.

Before you can comprehend what’s happening, Katie jumps on your back, her momentum bringing you both down to the floor.

You can’t help but groan at the impact, your ribs feeling slightly bruised. On top of that, you still have Katie sitting on your back, laughing like a madman.

Turning around with her still on top of you, you’re able to relish in the way Katie’s eyes widen slightly before going back to normal. 

Soon enough, Katie herself starts to smirk at the suggestive position you’ve found yourselves in. Her hands creep up to settle on your stomach, muscles contracting under her. 

The clearing of someone’s throat interrupts you two, you trying to scramble up from the ground with a weight pinning you to the floor.

When you realize that Katie isn’t getting off of you, you decide to take drastic measures. 

Placing your hands on her waist, you lift her off your body without much struggle. After that you pull yourself up from the floor, offering the Irish woman a hand to pull herself up with.

“I thought you needed to hit the weights.” Katie’s hand comes up to squeeze your bicep, you flexing it for her.

“I do Mickey, maybe we can go together sometime?” Now your hand is up at your neck, rubbing it nervously.

“RIGHT move it along people, we’ve got training in 5 minutes. You two can flirt later.” Lotte calls out playfully, one of her hands on either of your backs pushing you forward.

Your face is overtaken by a dark blush, Lotte exposing you. 

“Yeah, yeah Lots, you’re just mad that your boyfriend’s away” Katie responds rather snarkily, shooting you an over the top wink.

———-

Week by week passes at the club. The happiness that you once missed out on was now present every second of every day. 

There was one thing that laid at the back of your mind though, nagging and eating away at your conscience. 

You’re in love with Katie, your absolute best friend. 

She’s everything you’ve ever wanted in a girl. She’s funny and kind, she’s great with your parents and your siblings. Not to mention that she’s incredibly attractive.

It’s impossible not to fall for her.

Funnily enough, it was just as hard for her not to fall for you. You two were supposed to be friends, not lovers, and yet that’s exactly what you were becoming.

Less than friendly kisses shared behind closed doors, cuddling on the bus and at home, texting whenever you’re apart. She would even steal your clothes, taking your trousers after spending the night together and leaving her own. Yeah, going into training that day wasn’t fun.

It wasn’t official or anything, you were both just enjoying each other’s company.

Well that is until your ex decides to contact you again, despite being blocked.

——

“Micks, could you bring me a glass of water?” Katie moves around your kitchen with ease, already splitting her time between her own flat and yours.

You hear her hum and then the splashing of the water meeting your sink. The movie you’re watching is paused, the two of you cuddling whilst watching it.

Just as you can hear Katie���s sock clad feet moving back towards the living room, your phone buzzes on the table. Picking it up absentmindedly, an unknown number flashes across your screen. 

Pressing accept on the call, you can soon hear the obnoxious voice of your ex-girlfriend screaming. 

Pulling the phone away from your ear, Katie looks at you curiously. 

“Y/n I wanna get back together!” The slightly intoxicated girl screams at you.

“No. Emilia, I told you never to contact me again so don’t.” Speaking firmly into the phone, you can see Katie’s eyes harden in recognition. She did know of your ex after all.

“I was wrong. Take me back.” She drags out every syllable, slurring her words simultaneously.

“I’d rather let a tractor drive over my foot.” 

“But I’m perfect for you” Katie’s hand comes down to take the phone from your grasp, prying it out of your fingers.

“Are ya now?” Her usual playfulness is gone, voice stone cold.

“Who are you?” Emilia’s shrill voice cuts into both of your eardrums, Katie looking at you in confusion. 

How could you date that? She whispers to you, laughing a little when you shrug. 

“Her girlfriend, you intolerable shit. If you contact her again I won’t hesitate to knock your teeth out.” Her low, threatening tone did something to you. She raised a single eyebrow at your Arsenal red face, making you blush that much harder.

Just as Katie’s about to hang up, you take it from her hand. 

“Emilia, you breaking up with me was truly a blessing in disguise, it brought me the love of my life. Have a great life.” After that, you hang up and throw the phone to the edge of the couch. 

Settling on top of the Irish captain again, she starts to run her hand through your hair. The action makes you melt into her body, a content smile forming on your face.

“So I’m the love of your life?” The sharp Irish accent cuts through the air, teasing zing to her words.

“So I’m your girlfriend?” You counter back, feeling her hand still from their movements. “Ask me.”

“What?” You pinch her sides lightly, the hand she was using to play with your hair slapping the back of your head.

“Ask me to be your girlfriend Mick.” 

“Will you be my girlfriend?” Despite her trying not to sound nervous, you can hear the slightest tremble in her voice.

“Of course Mickey.” Moving up, you lean in to kiss her softly, lips moving against the other’s.

“So will you finally tell me where you got Mickey from?” 

“Nope”

[uluvjay]

The easy days- J. Slafkovsky

Juraj Slafkovsky x fem! Reader

In which you bask in Juraj’s rare off day

Warnings?: Fluff, kissing, talks of burning out and exhaustion but no more I can think of, i apologize for any errors!

You woke up to the feeling of soft kisses being scattered along your cotton covered shoulder, strands of dark brunette hair tickling your jaw.

“Morning” you smiled down at the large boy tucked under your arm.

Juraj perked his head up at the sound of your soft voice, a bright smile overtaking the boys face as he leaned up to place a small peck to your lips.

“Good Morning.” He breathed resting his chin on your chest.

“What are the plans for today?” You question softly, hands working into his soft locks.

His eyes fluttered shut for a moment at the relaxing sensation of your nails lightly scratching his scalp.

“Sleep, coffee, couch, movies, food.” He answered after a moment.

“Sounds good to me.” You giggled.

The habs finally had an off day after two back to back games with a practice and another game earlier in the week and you knew your boyfriend needed a day of nothing but rest.

He’d been working his ass off and while it’s been paying off and he’s doing amazing things he still needs a day of relaxation in order to keep his young body from burning out.

Looking over at the digital clock on your nightstand you laughed realizing it was seven in the morning but you couldn’t blame Juraj for being up this early, the jet lag got ahold of him as soon as he laid in the bed last night.

“What time do you want to get back up?” You asked softly.

“Whenever we feel like it.” He chuckled softly and you nodded in agreement before placing a kiss to his head and snuggling into your pillow while Juraj resumed his position under your arm allowing himself to be the little spoon for once.

-

When you two do finally emerge from the comfort and warmth of your bed it’s just passing ten in the morning.

You both share a quick shower before getting dressed and heading to your favorite coffee shop. Snow had fallen overnight leaving a soft blanket on the streets of Montreal.

You two make small talk about his trip and how he enjoyed his multi point roadtrip, he blushed as your praised his achievements telling you it wasn’t a big deal but deep down you knew he was enjoying the praise.

Juraj parked in front of the coffee shop before making his way around to your door and opening it for you.

“Thank you kind sir.” You laughed as you step out.

“It’s no problem, I always look out for the clumsy.” He smirked as you let out a scoff and smacked his shoulder.

“I am not clumsy!”

“Coles ring camera says differently.” He giggled and you couldn’t argue with that one.

A few weeks ago everyone had gathered at Cole’s new house for dinner and the boy had told everyone to watch the patch of ice on his walkway but somehow even after trying to avoid it, you still slipped.

He took your hand as he lead you towards the door, opening it for you he followed after you stepping into the smell of fresh coffee and baked sweets.

“Do you want your usual?” He asked as you two stepped into the small line.

“Yes please.” You smiled up at him.

He gave you a soft nod before dipping down and capturing your lips in a short kiss, Juraj wasn’t big on pda but after being away for a week he missed you and he didn’t really care who saw him showing his favorite person a bit of love.

Once you two reached the counter the barista smiled brightly as she recognized you two instantly.

“Hi guys! Do you want your usual today?”

“Yes please.” Juraj smiled politely.

“Okay! That’ll be $14.07, you can swipe whenever you’re ready.” She smiled and you watched as Juraj paid knowing there was absolutely no point in trying to make him let you.

You slid two bills into the tip jar before making your way to the small waiting area, Juraj wrapped a strong arm around your shoulder as he pulled you close to his side.

“We need to finish that movie we started before you left for your road trip.” You reminded him.

“Oh yeah, we have to find some others to watch too because I plan on being on that couch for the rest of the day.” He laughed.

“Deal, what about that new horror one you wanted to see?” You asked.

“Sounds good to me.” He smiled softly, his attention pulled away from you as the barista called out your names and placed the cups on the counter.

“Thank you!” You smiled at her as you both collected your drinks and headed back to the car.

-

For the next few hours you two were wrapped up in blankets while you rested on your large sectional, your back to Juraj’s chest while he rested against the soft cushions of the couch.

You had eaten things that Juraj should’ve been staying clear from due to his strict diet but he didn’t care in the moment, he was allowed a cheat day every now and then.

You’d ran through all the new movies you two had been desperate to watch, a horror, some comedy and others dramas.

After a nice filling dinner you were back in your spot against him but this time your head was rested against his chest while his fingers raked through your hair and his nails scratched along your back under your shirt.

“Today has been nice.” You spoke softly.

“It has, thank you for everything today.”

“You don’t have to thank me J, I love spending time with you.” You smiled up at him.

“I know but some people wouldn’t do this for their partner, you didn’t have to lay around with me all day and do nothing but you did. So thank you and I love you.” He smiled.

“I love you more baby.” You giggled as you pushed yourself up to press your lips against his.

It was soft and full of passion, showing him how much he actually did mean to you without having to try and explain it in words which you struggled with.

Pulling away he gave you one more peck on the lips before settling back and stroking your cheek with his large thumb.

He could see the sleep clouding your eyes, the way they kept drooping had his heart warming, despite it being barely seven he pulled you close and wrapped your favorite blanket around you.

“Go to sleep love, I’ll be here when you wake up.” He spoke as he began to stroke your hair.

“Okay.” You breathed as you snuggled into him.

You loved hockey and loved watching Juraj live out his dream with amazing teammates and an amazing organization but there was nothing better then days like this, the days where you could spend the entirety loving on him and allowing his body to get the rest he needed.

Nothing would ever top the easy days.

-

[wintersongstress]

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female Reader

Summary: The first time Simon lays you down beneath him, you wear something special for him.

Word Count: 1.2k

Tags: Soft Simon™, kissing, foreplay, sweet words of praise, mild smut.

A/N: I wanted to get my feet wet with some headcanons for Simon, since I’ve never written for him before but am planning on writing a multi-chapter fic soon. I like to imagine him very soft and adoring with his girl, so if fluffy mild smut is your thing I hope you enjoy this little scenario where the reader wears nice lingerie for him 😊

❁ — Simon should have known that your first time together, when he lifted the last layer of clothing from your head, you would make it special for him to see you like this.

❁ — When you stumbled through the front door together kissing feverishly, he couldn’t go fast enough. He scooped you up by the knees and walked you backwards to the bedroom, your laughter making him smile and kiss down your neck. He loved the fragrant hollow of your throat where you enchanted your skin with perfume, and how when he whispered in your ear, goosebumps erupted on your skin at the tone. You wanted each other, he was doubtless of it as you fisted the back of his shirt in your hands and sighed for him yearnfully.

❁ — The bed is soft and moonlit as he lays you down upon it. You wait for him as he switches on the light on your bedside table, and the stained-glass lampshade casts a mosaic of warm honey colors all over you.

❁ — Smiling, blinking slow, you part your legs for him as he stands to his full height, inviting him between them, but Simon is transfixed. The rush that compelled him earlier, the one to cover your body with his own, simmers as he leans in.

❁ — Dwelling dreamily, he traces the side of your lovely, soft face with his knuckles. Along the curved plane of your temple, the pillow of your cheek, down to the lush seam of your parting lips. Your lashes dip and you capture his hand to press a kiss into the heart of his palm.

❁ — “Love,” he murmurs. He was so in love, he didn’t know what to do with himself. His other hand comes to rest on your knee and he circles a thumb across your tights. “I could spend all night just looking at you like this.”

❁ — You hum, lifting the skirt of your dress a little higher up your thighs. This was his way of saying that you didn't have to do this if you weren't ready; Simon would be happy with whatever you decided to share of yourself with him. A light of understanding glimmers in your gaze.

❁ — “I want you closer.”

❁ — A knot tightens in his throat as he watches your fingers flirt with the frill of your hem, shuddering to think of them up higher, between, glistening.

❁ — “You’re sure?”

❁ — A sun of hope burns in his chest as he awaits your answer. He holds it back with all his self-control, his fingertips trembling along the swoop of your collarbone. If you say yes, he would succumb to all the things he's imagined doing to you, thousands of times, scrambling for where to start in showing you how much you mean to him.

❁ — In a liquid motion, you slide up with your hands braced behind you to gaze up at him and place that hesitant, dreaming hand of his over your heart.

❁ — “Simon, you’re all I think about.”

❁ — Whatever remained of his granite cracks and you move together.

❁ — He unzips your tall boots, holding your ankle as he tugs them off. Your tights join the floor next and he’s gathering the soft folds of your knitted dress up over your head. The undressing of himself is all a seamless blur—he has no interest in seeing anything other than your bare body and has no patience for hindrances, but when you lift a final, snowy camisole above your shoulders Simon's stomach flutters and his breath catches.

❁ — With all his imaginings, nothing could've prepared him for the heavenly sight of you before him in lingerie, and his jaw goes slack.

❁ — You let him look, gaze shy with your bottom lip tucked in while your fingers fiddle at your side in anticipation.

❁ — Your breasts are perfectly cupped in a translucent bra, the powder blue mesh fabric of which is embroidered with a garden of wildflowers with seed pearls at their centers. A wispy little bow rests in the center, a shimmery lace that scritches between his thumb and forefinger as he marvels at it. Your underwear matches, framing your hips in a way that makes him groan.

❁ — "Christ, you're fucking perfect," he murmurs at last. A tremor of unworthiness stays his hands, too afraid of tearing the delicate garment to touch it.

❁ — "I wanted you to see me like this," you begin. "Because I thought you deserved something nice when all you do is make me feel so....worthwhile."

❁ — A stone rolls away from his heart. Simon's brows drawbridge up, forgetting his own feelings of inadequacy as he cradles your warm shoulders in his hands and leans in to kiss you. He could never word the depths of his gratitude and awe, so he imparts it in this kiss instead, bruising, tender, and acheful.

❁ — He finds your lips soft, warm, and beaded with moisture as your calves enfold around him like the wings of a dove. He's falling back with you on the covers and he cannot help but grind himself against you until you're whimpering, desire taking over his thoughts. He wants to watch you come, just like that. He wants to feel your warmth around his fingers and lave and tease at you with his tongue until he heard you call his name in the pleasure-filled tenor of your voice, to behold this beautiful sculpture of a woman unravel. His kiss breaks away to view the sight of you laid out for him and his palms course along your torso appreciatively.

❁ — "Oh, sweet girl. How can you want me?"

❁ — You lean up with an arm thrown over his sturdy shoulders, unhooking your bra, which he pulls away as you bring your caress to his thickset arms, holding yourself upright to kiss at the tragedy of scars across his chest. Simon holds you by the small of your back, letting his eyes fall shut and embracing how much he feels the delicacy of your soft kiss across his skin, the sensation warming his body down to his toes like sunshine.

❁ — Reaching his shoulder, you trace a nail along the groove of the scar that cuts through his mouth, your eyes aglow with affection. It's a look he's not ready for; it stirs in his chest a throbbing ache to never be without you, but what you say next surpasses it.

❁ — "Make me yours."

❁ — In a moment when the thickness of his fingers were tangled with the grace of yours, Simon once told you that whatever was left of him belonged to you. You could have the broken shards of a man he still had left to give. But then you embraced him, held those pieces for long enough to carry him here to the moment when you said those exact words that made his soul alight, and he is suddenly entire.

❁ — A groan flutters from him, and in his head he maps out a plan for everything he wants to do to you, knowing where to start first as he travels down your body. Parting your thighs around his shoulders, he kisses the wet spot darkening the bridge of your underwear with the fullness of his mouth, pressing his nose into you until you keen and lift your hips, giving him the opening he needs to pull your underwear down blindly and show you what you mean to him.

Comments are appreciated 🥺 Thank you for reading 💖

[skymoral]

hello! a question can you do smut bi-han x ovulating! reader

Heyyy! Yes! I love that, when you are ovulating you are super horny and sensitive. Bi-Han would have fun with that! 😍😍😘😌

🩵 MATING SEASON 🩵

BI-HAN X OVULATING!READER

Summary: Your ovulating, and it got you feeling more sensitive than usual and excited. Bi-Han noticed your strange behavior, and curious on why. Which he will soon find out

Tags: Fingering, multi sex positions, heavy smut, bite marks, kisses, rough sex, and degrading.

A/N: It’s fun and messy 🥴🥴

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

You were in the kitchen making and mixing a bunch of concoction. You have been having strong cravings, and you know why.

Your head maids were looking at you confused, as you finished your food. Your hunger dying down, but now something else has been bothering you now.

You were feeling EXTREMELY horny, you hurried back to you and Bi-Han’s room. Keeping your legs shut tight. As if someone would be able to smell you ovulating.

As soon as you opened the door to your bedroom, you were greeted with a shirtless Bi-Han. Glistening at that as if he just finished training.

“Why are you trying to TORCHER ME!” You yelled frustrated and red. Bi-Han looked at you confused with a scowl.

“What are you talking about? I’ve been training with Kuai Liang for the past five hours. And now I’m changing.”

“That’s the problem! You and your glistening abs need to go! Just until I calm down.” You tried pushing him out. Which turned into a slight tussle, where he has you pinned to the bed.

“What is wrong with you woman?” He growled looking down at you.

You were definitely turned on by that, blushing harder. He noticed you moving your legs around, then it hit him.

“C-Can you p-please… Get off of me.” You spoke quietly and shyly. He only gave you a devious smirk, which always led to something dangerous.

He leaned closer to you, his finding your neck. Inhaling your scent, his nose tickling you slightly. “Now why would I do that, leaving my little vixen in this state.” He spoke in a lower tone, a deep chuckling escaping his lips.

You can feel it in your neck and body, that voice was killer. How can someone be this hot you stated to yourself.

His hands began feeling all around your body, as was kissing down your neck and collarbone. Then slowly down your chest, he bit at the soft skin.

Making you squeal a little, you know you probably like had three orgasms by now. All of a sudden you felt a breeze, Bi-Han ripped your clothes off in one pull.

Leaving you cold and exposed in only your bra and panties. Which were soaked, he pulled away looking at you like a predator ready to pounce.

His eyes went down to your wet entrance. “OFF.” He ordered you, and you knew exactly what he meant. You slowly were taking your panties, giving Bi-Han full view.

Your hands covering your face despite, having sex with him more than once. Then you jumped slightly from the cold piercing through your entrance. Soon melting, and slowly moans were coming from your voice.

He inserted a second finger, making you moan louder. Music to his ears, as he was slowly getting hard. He leaned down gripping your face, pulled you into rough kiss his tongue sliding into your mouth.

He began thrusting his fingers in and out of your pussy. Going faster, Bi-Han swallowing in your moans. You wrapped your arms around his neck, deepening it.

You were slowly reaching your peak, breaking the kiss. “B-B-Bi-Han… F-Fuck, p-please B…Bi-Han!” You cried out his name before you eventually came on his fingers.

Slowly riding out your orgasm, you can’t believe you just had your fourth orgasm from just his fingers. He pulled out, leaning back positioning himself between your legs.

He looked at you with heated eyes, licking at his fingers. Tasting every inch of you, “I never said you could cum?”

He glared at you, “I-I’m sorry Bi-h-“ *SMACK* you felt a sting on your ass, cutting you off. Making you wet again.

“You are sorry to who?” Bi-Han still looking down at you, rubbing the spot he slapped. You didn’t know his hard cock already out of his pants.

“I’m s-sorry… G-Grandmaster.” You corrected yourself quietly. You felt another sting, he had smacked your ass again. This time you moaned again.

“I almost forgot it was close to that time for you. Is this how you wanted to let your grandmaster know, you’re ready to bear my children.”

“I-“ *SMACK*

“Speak up Slut!” Bi-Han smirked, he lifted your legs over his shoulder. Pulling you closer, to feel his cock throbbing against you entrance.

“Y-Yes Grandmaster… P-Please fill me up grandmaster.” You begged in the sweetest tone, you were to out of it and in the heat of the moment. To care anymore, about anything.

“Whatever my lil slut needs.” Bi-Han didn’t waste any time and slammed his cock right inside you. Causing you to scream out.

He pulled out slowly, but not all the way. Pushed back inside harder everytime, he kissed your inner thighs. Which was sensitive, when you were aroused.

You begged him to go faster, tears falling from your eyes. Eyes rolled back in the back of your head, as he was thrusting faster and harder.

“Fuck! You feel so good Y/N. I’ll fill your little ass up, and you’ll be walking carrying my child.” Bi-Han told you in between thrusts.

You were caught off guard when he switched positions. Your back against his chest, and his arm around your throat. The position helping him go deeper, you were drooling.

“F-Fuck me Grandmaster… B-Bi-Han!… I’m s-so close.”

“You will not cum TILL I TELL YOU TO BITCH!”

You felt his hands on your bra, ripping it off and holding your breast. He then pushed you down, grabbing your hair. Pulling your head back, he started kissing your neck again.

Then leaving bite marks, you didn’t know how long you could last. Begging that he cums soon, he would not be happy if you came again.

He slapped your ass again, but a lot harder. You tightened around his cock, he grunted at the tightness. He was close to his climax, his thrust slowing down slightly.

“I want you to cum at the same time with me.”Before he thrust hard, pushing deep inside. Letting his seed explode inside you, you released right after shaking. Crying out Bi-Han’s name.

He let go of your, making you fall face first. Both riding out your orgasm, you felt his cock throbbing inside of you.

B-Bi-Han?” You tried using the little strength you had to turn around and look at your lover.

“Who said we were done?” Bi-Han smirked evilly, you gulped. Feeling his cock get hard again inside you. This man literally has unlimited stamina.

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

• The Next Morning •

You woke up, full of bite marks and aches. From yesterday’s events. You groaned looking at your peaceful sleeping Bi-Han.

You grabbed your pillow, smacking him awake. “I’m in pain because of you.”

You heard him chuckling as you kept hitting him with the pillows as he was trying to block them.

A/N: I hope I accomplished the request. If you are ovulating that man will try to get you pregnant at every opportunity, I was happy to be given a smut idea. I LOVE THEM!!🔥���

[aesethewitch]

Personal Protection: Surviving the Holidays

I'm of the opinion that far too many people around this time of year are fucking around, and it's high time they get to the finding out part. With major holidays right around the corner, many of us will be facing relatives we'd rather not see, parties we'd rather not go to, and conversations we'd rather avoid or exit as soon as possible. Political spats, unwanted opinions, snide remarks -- I believe that what you give out, you ought to receive back.

So, obviously, let's do some magic about it.

There are three main components to my method:

The Bubble;

The Quills; and

The Shake

The Bubble

Exactly what it sounds like, "the bubble" is the outermost layer of protection around you. It's the barrier between you and the unpleasantness you're trying to keep out.

The bubble can be one item carried or worn (such as a hat, crystal, or charm), or it can be multiple. I usually spring for two items, one to absorb/recycle and one to bounce/return to sender.

Absorb:

I've got a relative who is, at their essence, a fucking downer. That would be fine if not for the fact that if they're having a bad time or are mildly uncomfortable, it's about to be everyone's problem. This kind of negativity is something to absorb, not bounce. Sending it back would only double their misery, and that's no good for anyone.

So, instead, I have a special charm that I make for occasions when I know they're going to be around. It consists of a little piece of sponge that's sat in salt for a while atop a transformative sigil. The sponge, once fully charged and ready, will absorb the negative energy and recycle it into more positive feelings.

This means that their negativity won't impact me at all, and I actively improve the atmosphere. Their bad attitude can't do anything if everyone around us is only getting good vibes. The charm is powered by the exchange of negative to positive energy, so it requires no charging. However, it's smart to discard the sponge once it's done its job.

Bounce:

But sometimes, somebody's got to face real consequences. There are some things I don't want to deal with at all. Like gross political opinions from my conservative, religious family members. Or questions about having children.

The idea of the bounce is to reflect things before they reach me. It's a sort of glamor spell that projects an aura of "don't bother." It essentially lets me be passed over for conversations I want to leave or avoid entirely by bouncing attention away from me.

Negative energy, bad vibes, whatever you want to call it -- the goal is to return it to where it's coming from. Someone who's being an asshole will feel like an asshole. If it works right, they'll stop talking altogether because they're so irritated with what they're saying. I've had aggressive, vocal relatives go completely silent because they were receiving their own rancid energy back to themselves instead of the attention they were hoping for.

For me, this spell takes the form of a charm on my keys. It's a form of an evil eye charm -- not the blue-eyed stare you most likely think of, but another symbol meant to distract attention from me to it. It's a little pewter casting of the fig sign, an old and obscene gesture. It works on malevolent spirits best, but it does a great job of repelling unfortunate people, too. It bounces their nonsense back to themselves, often causing confusion, which forces them to reconsider what they're saying.

Again, this lives on my keys, which live in a key bowl when they're not clipped to my pocket or belt loop. The key bowl has a multi-purpose charging setup for the keys, my wallet, and other assorted charms I might wear when I go out.

The Quills

Sometimes, things get past our main line of defenses. That's fine, it happens. But under these circumstances, it happens because someone has deliberately crossed a line. So now, they get the quills.

When I say "the quills," you should be picturing something like a porcupine. Adorable, yes, but fuck with it at your own risk. Those quills aren't just for show, and neither should yours be. This is your second line of defense, and it's where we turn to offense.

Accordingly, the quills aren't passive spells like the bubble. These require conscious activation and direction to give you maximum control over their output. You can make your quills passive, but I often find that baneful workings work best when you're specifically choosing to use them.

Yes, baneful, and let me be perfectly clear: The goal is to harm whoever's crossed the line. You're not just returning to sender. You're catching what they've thrown at you, lighting it on fire, and pitching it back at full force.

To that end, there are two approaches I typically take (and are you sensing a pattern? I like to do things in twos). One spell to sharpen the tongue and give as good as I've gotten, and one to induce the smallest of lingering curses on the target.

Sharpen

The whole point of the quills is to make yourself an inconvenient, difficult target. Part of being difficult to swallow is not going down easily. Often, the answer is to avoid the conversation or problem altogether, but it isn't always possible. Or satisfying.

Sometimes, you gotta take a bitch down.

For me, this charm needs to do two things. It should boost my confidence in standing my ground and add some oomph to my argument. I have a pin with a particular design on it charmed for this purpose. The needle operates as the quill for stabbing (the oomph), and the design provides the confidence. Anointed with my Fuck Off Oil and laid in a dish of salt, garlic, and red chili flakes, the pin becomes extra spicy and effective.

This one has to be recharged each time it's used. It always lives on the same jacket, but I'll anoint it regularly to keep it fresh. If I use the charm on someone, I'll take the pin off at the end of the night and set it in the spicy salt mixture.

Linger

By far one of the most effective methods for reducing nonsense from unpleasant people I interact with regularly is lingering consequences. When someone associates bad luck with interacting with you, even on a subconscious level, they tend to avoid you.

Consider this the "slow poison" on the quills. The goal isn't to ruin their life by any means (although, I suppose you could...). It's just to make yourself unpalatable on an instinctive level. Think of how poisonous frogs are brightly colored to display that they're, you know, deadly. That's what we're doing here.

I prefer to use something kind of dangerous. Something you can hold onto and point with is best, in my experience. I've used a broken piece of glass, a rusty nail or screw, and various thorns. Right now, I'm using one half of a rusty pair of old cooking shears. The handle broke, but the blades are still sharp as hell. Waste not, and all that.

Anoint whatever the sharp, dangerous thing is in an oil infused with herbs and spices of your choice (again, the Fuck Off Oil is a good example). Or, if you prefer, coat it in something like hot sauce, urine, rust, or other corrosive and unpleasant things. Once prepared, stow it in your bag. Or your glove box, if you drive, since this makes a nice on-the-go curse to cast at shitty drivers.

You don't need to pull it out for it to work, but if you can get to a safe, secluded space (like a bathroom), it can help you focus. When you're creating it, you should set up an activation word, phrase, or motion. I prefer a motion -- something like tapping wherever the object is, a swirling movement with my hand, and then pointing at the target.

The curse you place is up to you. I tend to go for something like feeling nauseous or getting a headache. The spell should draw a connection between them being nasty to you and the unpleasant feeling, whether overt or subconscious. They'll be more cautious and reluctant to be a dick to you afterwards.

The Shake

Like a dog. Get that shit off of yourself.

No matter how thorough you are, there are always gaps and particularly stubborn people getting into them. Something they say just sticks to you like a burr, sharp and irritating. Or depressing, maybe.

The idea behind the shake is literal. You're forcibly removing the heavy weight or annoying itch someone else has placed on you. The shake isn't necessarily an item like with the bubble and quills. It can be, but it doesn't have to be.

Essentially, the steps to the shake are:

Identify what feels bad

Shake that shit

Resume normal activities

Maybe it's the neurodivergent in me, but physical movement is incredibly soothing. Self-regulation tactics are essential for survival. Transforming that into a little spell ritual at the same time is just two birds with one stone.

When things get overwhelming or I can feel my bubble failing to keep everything out at once (such as if a fight breaks out or someone decides to go in depth about one of my triggers), I remove myself from the situation. That's the first step. Retreat to a safe place, whether that's outside, in my car, in the bathroom, or elsewhere that's quiet. The second step is to figure out where in my body the anxiety or bad feeling is sitting. Often, it's in my shoulders and hands, but sometimes it's elsewhere.

Step three is to fucking shake. Shake those hands, roll my shoulders, jump up and down. Whatever it takes. As I do, I'm forcibly dislodging everything unpleasant out of myself and into the open air. And because I've got the negativity-absorbing bubble, it'll take the bad feeling and repurpose it into something more positive. Then, once I'm better, I can go back.

Again, you don't need an object for this, but you can certainly create one. Options would be comforting items, fidget toys, or even something like a joint. Sometimes, you just gotta blow smoke about it. You know?

Fun fact, though: You could also carry a vessel to contain the Bad Feelings for later use instead of letting your bubble absorb them. This comes in handy for people who are particularly abusive... as an example of what you want them to experience under the force of a more involved cursing.

If you like my work, consider throwing a tip my way! Supporters get early, exclusive, and extended access to my work for as low as $3.

[mikeywayarchive]

My Chemical Romance bassist Mikey Way has a new Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Comic with "anime inspired" art and a villain that goes back to the original '90s toys

By George Marston published June 24, 2024

Mikey Way is turning the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles' greatest love into their worst enemy

Full article under the cut:

(Image credit: IDW Publishing)

My Chemical Romance is one of the most popular bands of the last 20 years, and in the time since their last official release, several of the group's multi-talented members have branched into comic storytelling - including bassist Mikey Way, whose latest comic is a short in the upcoming anthology comic Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Black, White, and Green #2.

A veritable teen idol of his own thanks to My Chem's beloved presence in the punk and emo scene, Way is tapping into a deep-seated love of both the TMNT and their personal favorite food of pizza for a story that captures the youthful energy of the Turtles in a way that only someone who was there for their meteoric rise and pop culture presence could.

(Image credit: IDW Publishing)

"I was a massive Turtles fan as a kid! Being born in the '80s, wave one of Turtlemania hit when I was about eight years old, so safe to say I was all in," Way tells Newsarama. "My older brother was into the black & white comics early, so I was at least aware of the Turtles prior to that big boom, but my fandom really came alive with the original cartoon series." 

"Followed up by the Playmates toy line and then into the live action movie, it really checked every box imaginable for me," Way explains. "The characters and the world building had something for almost everyone. While I was initially into Michelangelo, (because of his name and the nunchucks) I grew into way more of a Raphael fan. He's got more layers as a character in my opinion."

(Image credit: IDW Publishing)

Way's brother is, of course, Gerard Way, singer of My Chemical Romance and founder of the DC imprint Young Animal, which published Mikey Way's first comic, Collapser, which was co-written by Shaun Simon with art by Ilias Kyriazis. For TMNT: Black, White, and Green, Way collaborated with artist Nikola Čižmešija and colorist Lee Loughridge, whose art you can see in the newly revealed pages from the story seen here.

"I love Nikola’s style so much!," Way says. "He has this fantastic anime inspired quality to his work, and it lends itself perfectly to a Ninja Turtles story. I was floored by his pencils and he was a pleasure to work with."

As for the content of the story itself, it all comes down to something that many fans of the TMNT probably love as much as the Turtles do themselves: pizza. Way brings in a classic villain, Pizza Face, who first appeared in the original TMNT toy line in 1990 as a villainous pizza chef, before being revived in the 2012 animated series as a mutated pizza blob.

(Image credit: IDW Publishing)

"I wanted to do a story that was an ode to '80s horror, with a nod to Candy Man or the urban legend of Bloody Mary," Way says of why he chose Pizza Face.

"The character of Pizza Face fascinated me as a kid, because he looked like the mascot on most Pizza boxes mixed with a 'Freddy' or 'Jason'," Way continues. "That mythology I created in my head as a kid really stuck with me. When the opportunity arose to write a Ninja Turtle story, it was literally the first thing that popped out of my head."

And yes, Mikey Way does have a favorite pizza place: 

"Star Tavern in Orange New Jersey. Hands down the greatest there is, in my opinion."

(Image credit: IDW Publishing)

Though Way's Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Green story is only eight pages, Way does plan more comics to come very soon - though he's not quite ready to say exactly what just yet.

"I feel like I have more stories that I want to tell," he hints. "At the risk of sounding vague, I would say one can expect an announcement of some sort very soon."

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Black, White, and Green #2 is on sale now.

[drghostwrite]

911, What’s your Emergency?

Y’all had to know it was coming, just recently discovered the show and I’m loving it (obsessed) so far… and tbh who doesn’t look at Buck and just like, well yk.

Pairing: Evan Buckley x reader

Summary: Evan and Reader meet at an unlikely time. There are some flashbacks in this story.

P.S. multi part story!!

******************************************************** Home.

Wrapped under cozy blankets on cool sheets, feeling your soft mattress and pillows enveloping your sore body after your last long night in the ER. Freshly showered and ready to sleep for the next couple days before your next shift. Instead that’s the opposite of where you found yourself.

“Miss… Miss… can you hear me?” You heard a voice pulling you from your daydream. Red and Blue lights were bouncing off the rain on your windshield, you could see a fire truck in your review mirror. Spiderwebs of cracks splintered glass into your car, the large metal beam crushing your windshield and roof.

“Uh yea… yea.”

“Okay good my name is Evan Buckley I’m a firefighter, what’s your name?”

“Y/N, Y/N Avery.”

“Okay Y/N, you were in an accident, do you remember what happened?”

“Uh there were these cars that were swerving and next thing I know a third hit me from behind and the the pole and that’s it.”

“Okay, well we’re here now and we’re gonna get you out, does anything hurt? Do you think you can move?”

“I think I’m okay, just a couple scratches.” You said grabbing the door handle as he pulled it open helping you out of the car. You started walking towards the engine of 118 but not before you collapsed and Evan caught you.

“Okay Y/N I think we should take you to the hospital.” He said picking you up.

“Probably best…” you said with a weak smirk before passing out, the last thing you remembered seeing was him climb into the ambulance behind you, and the next thing you saw was him sitting next to your hospital bed waiting for you to wake up.

“Hey?” You watched him confused.

“Hey, you’re awake, how do you feel?”

“honestly like I got hit by a car, oh wait…”

“This is true.” He laughed and my God did he have the most gorgeous smile.

“So it’s Evan right.”

“Yes ma’am but my friends call me Buck…”

“Oof, ma’am?” You laughed, “trust me I am not a ma’am, just call me Y/N”

“whatever you say.” He laughed.

“so you stayed?”

“well no one else showed up and I can’t leave a beautiful woman by herself after something like that.”

“beautiful?…” you chuckled, “once I’m out of here let me take you out and then I’ll show you beautiful.”

“Oh so now we’re flirting with guy who saved your life.”

“Hah yea, I’m also flirting with the hot firefighter that always carries people into my ER.”

“Oh okay, I see… well then, this hot firefighter would love to take the beautiful nurse on a date once she’s feeling better.”

“whatever you say lover boy.” You laughed as he just smiled at you.

———time jump———

Never did you see yourself here, you thought as you were so rudely pulled from your memories by the bustling room around you. Dresses and makeup bags flung, curling wands covering the counters, you stood and padded into the next room, quiet enveloping you from the girls getting ready in the other room. You walked up to the gorgeous white dress hanging in front of the window, running your fingers over the delicate stitching, a breathtaking wedding dress, your wedding dress. Closing your eyes as you calmed your nerves for what came next, hearing a gentle knock on the door and the shuffle of footsteps, gentle hands came to wrap around your shoulders as a chin rested on one of them, “you ready?”

you turned to be greeted by the sparkling eyes of none other than Maddie, Bucks sister, your soon to be sister in law.

“I’ve never been more ready for anything in my life.” You smile back.

“Good because I absolutely can’t wait for you to be my sister.” She hugged you before delicately helping you into the dress, pulling the zipper up and fixing the buttons, she rested her chin on your shoulder again as you watched on in the mirror another soft knock resounding as Athena Grant stepped into the room, “Absolutely gorgeous.” She said pulling you into a hug.

It wasn’t long before you were walking down the aisle, Bobby beside you as you flashed back to your first date.

———flashback———

“So how’s it feel to finally be free, back to the land of the living?” Buck asked.

“You know it’s always weird when the nurse becomes the patient and for once I think I actually don’t miss those white walls.” You both chuckled.

“Well I’m just glad I finally get to take you for a real dinner.” He said tucking your arm in his as you walked.

“Oh come on the green jello was date material?” You joked.

“wellll… maybe but the sneaking down the hallways definitely was…” he poked you in the side mischievously.

“Evan Buckley we don’t speak of that.” You both laughed.

“I’m just sayin…” before he could finish you heard someone call your names.

“Y/N! Buck!” You heard and turned to see Bobby and Athena walking behind you.

“Athena!” You said pulling her into a hug.

“Hi baby… how’re you doing?” She smiled pulling back.

“Good, I’m a lot better now that I’m not spending my nights in the hospital.”

“Well I’m glad, I hear Buck here has been taking god care of you though.”

“Only the best.” He smiled, “So how do you guys know Y/N?”

“Well I knew Athena from way before, my mom passed when I was younger and it just so happened that Athena had come in and out of the ER enough for us to get to know each other and she took me under her wing.”

“Oh okay…” he said listening to you explain, eyes beaming.

“Bobby on the other hand, he got initiated once he decided he wanted to propose, but honestly they’re like the parents I don’t have.”

“Wow, that so cool. I had no idea yall knew each other.”

“Oh “know each other” is the nice way of putting it, I could tell you some stories about this girl.”

“Nothing I probably haven’t already seen, she has a rebel streak.” He smiled and you slapped his arm.

“I said no stories…” you all laughed.

———time jump———

“I do.” Words that you weren’t sure you would ever hear cross your lips and yet here you were, staring into the eyes of your lover, your best friend, your husband.

you didn’t register what happened next other than him dipping you, kissing your lips like no one was in the room and then cheering as you stood back up straight.

“I’m your wife.” You said looking into his eyes.

“I’m your husband.” He said kissing you again as silent happy tears fell.

“I love you always and forever.” You both said in sync before laughing.

[joaniscruzing]

fucking sub Hazel please 🙏🏻 hardcore style with spanking, edging, strap and multi orgasm 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

i wrote it!!!

quick thing before we get into warnings: I've been getting requests to do some smut for ruby cruz. I'd just like to say, that after I wrote the Billie smut, I was very uncomfortable. I genuinely did not like writing smut for real people. I ask that you please don't request smut for real people. From now on, I will not do smut for real people, and characters only.

contains: smut, lesbian sex, dom!reader, sub!hazel, cunningulus, strapon, tit play, ass play, praise, degradation, denied orgasm, teasing (i went all out 😭)

Although Hazel was usually on top of you in fight club, you were usually on top of her in her bedroom. After a long day of school and fight club, Hazel loved fucking you at her house, where her mom usually wasn’t home. It would change from day to day, whether or not you or Hazel were on top, but usually you were. Hazel loved being fucked dumb by you some days, and today was one of those days.

You and Hazel were making out on her bed per usual, you straddling her hips, lips leaving hers to kiss her neck. Usually, when Hazel was feeling submissive, she just wouldn’t put up a fight when you got on top of her. But today, she started borderline whimpering every single time you touched her, kissed her, or whispered to her.

“Rather eager, aren’t we today, Haze?” you ask her teasingly. “I’m taking it that I’m on top today?”

“Please… I need you on top.” Hazel begged. You pushed her down onto the bed, kissing her neck, leaving hickeys everywhere. You easily slid your hands up her button-down shirt, feeling and squeezing her tits. You unbuttoned her shirt expertly, pushing her sports bra over her head and immediately going back to her tits, kissing and sucking at them. After maybe only thirty seconds, she pushed your head to go lower. To the spot in between her legs.

“You really can’t wait, huh? You horny slut.” All you get is a moan in response, which causes you to tease her for a bit longer. You kiss down her stomach, your tongue lightly grazing the skin as you kiss down her stomach, pulling down her pants.You see her wetness going through her panties, and you know she’s longing to be touched. 

“All wet for me?”

“Y-yeah…”

You kiss her clit softly through her panties, feeling her squirm at the touch. You slowly pull down her panties, throwing them behind you, and then diving in between her legs, eating her out like a starved woman. You try to make sure your tongue fucks her perfectly before entering two fingers inside her. You pump inside her whilst circling your tongue around her clit, her noises encouraging you to do more. Having fucked Hazel many many times before, you knew when she was close to her climax. Having fucked Hazel many times before, you knew how much fun it was to edge her. As soon as she warned you that she was close, you immediately detached yourself from her. You heard her whine for you to come back.

“Haze, wouldn’t you want to come even harder?”

“Yes please~”

“Can I use the strap on you today?” Hazel sat up immediately. You knew she loved being fucked dumb by your strap. Immediately, she got on all fours, ready for you to fuck her, and fuck her hard, the way she liked it. You adjusted the strap and held on to her hips as you teased the tip of the silicone dick in her folds. You heard her whining for you to just put it in, but you liked teasing Hazel. You liked seeing her turn into a moaning, begging mess because of you, contrary to the girl who would always win in fight club.

You slowly began to push the tip inside her, praising her as she took more and more of it in.

“Such a good girl, taking every inch of my strap.” you kept praising Hazel, because even though you liked fucking her, you liked being sweet to her too. You knew Hazel liked praise, and that she liked having the validation from someone else that she was good at something. You started to thrust the strap once you got all of it inside her.

“Faster… please…” she begged.

“Please to who, honey?”

“Please, mommy.” You began to fuck her even faster, the only sounds filling the room being your hips clapping into her ass, and her noises. You held onto and gripped her ass as you kept going, muttering about how she was all yours. She was so close to cumming, and you could feel it. You went even faster, wanting to hear any noise she could possibly make.

“C-can I cum?” you heard her barely get out. You keep going, wanting her to have her first orgasm of the night. You slowed down as you heard her reach her climax, wanting her to feel every last bit of pleasure. You withdrew the strap and laid down.

“Come on, Haze, I want to see you ride me.” Still very sensitive from only thirty seconds ago, Hazel wanted more. She positioned the strap so she could sink into it, taking it all in. You guide her hips, feeling her reaching a second orgasm.

“You’re doing good, my pretty girl. My princess. My baby.” You kept whispering sweet nothings into her ear as she had a second orgasm. You didn’t let her stop there though. You made her keep going, making her ride you faster even.

“I can’t do it, it’s too much…” Hazel whines in between moans.

“Come on, you can do it baby. You’re doing perfect.” Your hand travels to the round of her ass, almost slapping with how quickly it began to squeeze it. She lets out the loudest moan of the night, finishing a third time. You feel her go limp against you. You pull her off of your strap and lay her down, kissing her on the forehead.

“Can I clean you up?” you get a tired nod in response. You lick her clean and run a hot bath for her. You let her have a bath and then watch a movie with her later. Before she falls asleep, you tell her you have to go home, kissing her hair and telling her once again how good she did. When asking to be the top for next time, you say,

“Sure. Anything my pretty girl wants.”

[britany1997]

Could you do a poly with the boys being mated to a girl that just so happens to be maxes daughter?

Fate Yields For No One

Prologue

Yes of course I can write this for you! Sorry I got this forever ago, I really wanted to make it into a multi chapter fic:) I hope this series will be worth the wait. Comment or DM to be tagged in this series or in my main list:)

Poly! Lost Boys x Max’s Daughter Reader

(I don’t know when the next installment will be out, but there will be more chapters, at least 4-5)

Warnings: angst, talk of death, blood drinking, dub-con turning

California, 1935

You clutched the wall as you stumbled into an alley, coughing loudly into your bloodied handkerchief.

You leaned against the wall, sliding down until you were seated on the grimey alley floor. You pulled the cloth from your lips, hand shaking to see it splattered with the evidence of your impending doom.

Tears rolled down your cheeks as you recalled the fall of each and every member of your family to the same tragic fate.

The Depression had robbed your father of his job, and then your family of its home, forcing you to live a life on the cold California streets, begging for whatever scraps the wealthy were willing to give.

The spread of tuberculosis had gripped the homeless population in your town, and your family had not been immune.

You’d cradled your mother as she’d sobbed for your father. You’d mothered your siblings when she had left you too. Now you were the only one left, and it didn’t look like you’d be here much longer.

You withdrew into yourself, attempting to quiet the world around you, resigned to the conclusion that you’d be rid of it soon.

Which is why you didn’t hear footsteps approaching until a tall gentleman appeared at your side.

He was dressed in a form fitting grey suit paired with black dress shoes. His brown hair was slicked back in typical fashion, and perched on the bridge of his nose were a pair of wire rimmed glasses.

You couldn’t help but think he looked like the kind of man you’d meet on Wall Street, and not in this damp alley where forgotten youths like yourself came to die.

You coughed into the handkerchief again, staining it further. “Please,” you croaked, “are you a doctor? Can you help me?”

The man crouched down to examine your face. You gasped at his disregard for his fine clothing, and his immediate interest in you.

He shot you a soft smile, “I am not a doctor,” he told you, “but I can help you.”

He took your hand in his, smiling wider at your shocked expression, “what if I told you that I could do more than heal you? What if I could restore your life and then some? Would you want that?” He whispered, seemingly staring into your soul as he asked.

A tear slipped down your cheek as you returned his gaze, “I’m not ready to die,” you strained, “I’m so scared. Please don’t let me die, not like this.” You begged, searching his eyes for assurance that he wasn’t just toying with you.

The man sighed, “ok,” he breathed, “I’ll give you what you want.”

His eyes scanned over your broken body, slumped against the alley wall, and he cringed.

“I am truly sorry that there isn’t enough time to do this the gentle way,” he raised his hand to stroke your cheek, “I hope you can forgive me.”

As he finished speaking, his face shifted. His once brown eyes flashed a bright yellow. His teeth elongated into sharp fangs. The man had vanished, and before you crouched a monster.

You would have screamed if you’d had anything left in your lungs, but unfortunately the sands in your hourglass were almost up.

The monster lunged for your neck and bit down, draining the remaining life force from your body. As you faded into blackness, you scolded yourself for trusting this wolf in sheep’s clothing. You knew your error in judgment would be your last.

The monster pulled away from your neck, and you watched with blurred vision as he used his menacing fangs to tear into his wrist.

He brought his wrist to your lips, and wrapped a hand around the back of your head to pull you closer.

You fought to stay conscious as the monster’s blood dripped onto your tongue, but against your will, your eyes fluttered shut and your vision faded to black.

Taglist❤️:

@anna1306 @bloodywickedvamp @misslavenderlady @ghoulgeousimmaculate @6lostgirl6 @pixielostboy @riz-coolgirl @solobagginses @its-freaking-bats @xxryn @honeybedo @dwaynesluscioushair @feardot-com @lostboys1987girl @altierirose

[lilypadlys]

In Your Arms

Dew is having a hard time on tour. Between being homesick, missing Aether, and having nightmares, he's at the end of his rope and snapping at everyone. He really needs some gentle love but who do you turn to when you've pushed everyone away?

Ship: Dew/Swiss, bit of Dew/Aether

Word Count: 1550

Rating: Teen (for mild language)

Tags: SFW, fluff, hurt/comfort, cuddles

Below the cut or on AO3

The tour is nearing its end. Everything has been going mostly smoothly. The new summons Aurora and Phantom have integrated seamlessly. No major injuries have been sustained. Only some venue issues and inclement weather stood in the way of it being a flawless run and those were out of their control.

Still, Dew feels on edge. He’s tired. Being away from the ministry, constantly on the move, and missing Aether and Sunny, as well as a million other discomforts are all taking their toll. He hasn’t slept soundly in ages, sleep plagued with nightmares.

He’s been extremely snappy at everyone. He manages to pull himself together for the shows. Falling into his role, taking out his frustrations on his guitar strings. Off stage though, he can’t find an outlet. The smallest thing sets him off.

He hates himself for it. Cumulus didn’t deserve the hisses he spewed at her when she tried to lay a comforting hand on his shoulder. Poor Phantom looked ready to cry when Dew told him to fuck off when he asked if they wanted to room together at the hotel last night. Aurora and Rain have been avoiding him entirely, afraid of invoking his wrath. Cirrus and Mountain shoot him glares on the regular in response to his snarky asides. Swiss is the only one still willing to deal with him and even the multi ghoul’s patience has its limits.

When they get settled in the hotel for the night, Swiss just wordlessly hauls the grumpy fire ghoul into their room before he can start a fresh argument in the hotel lobby. Swiss has given up trying to help. He sighs tiredly as Dew chucks his overnight bag to the floor, causing a loud thump. Dew flops on his bed and turns his back to Swiss with a growl. Swiss just shakes his head, exhaling through his nose, and disappears into the bathroom to shower. Dew is left to glower in solitude.

When the bathroom door clicks shut, Dew huffs and rolls onto his back. He doesn’t know what to do. How to get out of this funk. He knows the other’s are trying to help but he can’t lower his guard long enough to let them. Aether could fix this. He thinks. Aether always knew what to do to get Dew to chill. Be it forcing him into a cuddle pile, fucking him senseless, or even just letting Dew rage. Aether’s patience seemed neverending. No matter how long he was out of it, how many nasty things Dew said, Aether always forgave him.

As if on cue, Dew hears his phone buzz. He wrestles it out of his pocket and glances at the screen. Aether.

“Hey Firelily.” The text reads.

“Hey Aeth.”

“How’re you holding up?”

Dew snorts. “What do you think? I’m sure Mount already blabbed to you.” Dew instantly regrets it as soon as he hits send. Why is he like this? Here’s Aether, checking on him, obviously concerned about him, and all he can do is be a bitch.

“Yes, Mountain told me you weren’t feeling well. Is it the nightmares again?”

Dew is once again amazed at Aether’s uncanny ability to always find the root of the problem.

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry Spark. I wish I could be there to help.”

But you’re not, is all Dew can think. He knows it’s not Aether’s fault. He’d be here if he could. But he’s not.

Even though he holds back from typing it, Aether seems to know what he’s thinking anyway.

“You’ll be back home soon and then I’ll help in whatever way I can.” Aether promises.

“Thanks.”

Dew makes to toss his phone to the nightstand when it buzzes again.

“The others care about you too. They just want to help.”

Dew wants to make some jerky comment but he can’t. He squeezes his eyes shut to hold back the tears that have begun to form.

“Yeah.”

“I know it’s hard but you’ve got to open up. They can’t help if you don’t let them.”

Dew sits in silence with that. He knows it. Truly he knows that everyone in the pack loves him and cares about him, and that they want to help. And yet all he’s done is push them away.

“Sweet dreams Dew.”

Dew does start to cry then. He so desperately needs a hug. Needs someone to wrap their arms around him and tell him everything will be alright. That they don’t hate him despite how horrible he’s been. Needs someone to hold him as he falls asleep and to protect him from the nightmares and nasty thoughts that plague his brain whenever he tries to relax. He curls up into a ball, tail wrapped around himself, as he sobs into the sheets.

He doesn’t hear as Swiss quietly opens the bathroom door, despite the water never running. He doesn’t see him round the corner. Swiss’ gentle touch on his back startles him and flinches; hissing and baring teeth. Dew watches in horror as Swiss’ expression goes from gentle concern, to hurt, to angry exasperation. Swiss grits his teeth and withdraws his hand. “Sorry.” He mutters as he turns away.

“Wait.” Dew forces the word out.

Swiss turns back, brow raised; unimpressed.

“I-I’m sorry.” Dew uncurls himself and sits up as fresh tears well in his eyes. “I’m sorry. Please don’t leave.”

Swiss’ expression softens. He sits on the edge of the bed, giving Dew his space, and waits.

Dew trembles as he forces the words out between sobs. “I’m sorry for being such a jerk. You guys were just trying to help.”

“Yeah, you’ve really been a shit recently.” Swiss agrees, teasingly rather than meanly.

Dew shrinks. “I’m sorry. Please don’t hate me.”

“Oh baby.” Swiss scoots a little closer. “We don’t hate you. Why do you think we haven’t thrown you off the tour bus yet?”

“But I probably deserve it at this point.” He whimpers.

“Nah, not quite.”

“Great, another thing I can’t do right.” Dew huffs and rolls his eyes but there’s no malice in it. Instead he just sounds disappointed in himself.

“Stop that. You can do plenty of things right.”

“Uh huh.” Dew frowns, unconvinced.

“Well first of all, you're the best lead guitarist I know.”

“That’s mean to Ifrit. And Alpha.”

“I don’t care. You’re better.” Dew gives him a look but Swiss continues. “You also make amazing pancakes.”

“That’s like the only thing I can do in the kitchen.”

“So? I love pancakes.”

Dew’s sobs have slowed to the occasional sniffle and a smile is threatening to break out so Swiss keeps going.

“And let's see. You’re pretty too. That doesn’t hurt.”

Dew makes a pouty face but Swiss interrupts before he can protest.

“You are. And I have excellent taste so you know it’s true.”

That does it and the corners of Dew’s lips are quivering upwards. He ducks his head in an attempt to hide.

“In fact, the only thing I can think of that you’re bad at is getting us to hate you.” Swiss closes the distance and nuzzles Dew’s head. “We love you, you little idiot. Don’t forget it, okay?” He purrs in Dew’s ear.

Rather than pull away, Dew leans into Swiss and rewards him for his efforts with a low purr of his own.

“Thanks Swiss.” Dew mumbles shyly.

“Of course Droplet.”

Dew suddenly looks up. “I need to apologize to the others.”

“That you do, but it can wait until the morning. Right now you need sleep.”

“But-”

“No buts. Go shower and change into comfy clothes. I showered back at the venue so I’ll get a nest set up.”

Dew does as he’s told and gets up. He shucks his boots and clothes on his way to the bathroom. The hot water does wonders, washing away sweat and his bad mood alike. He feels infinitely better as he towels off and slips into clean sweats. When he steps out of the bathroom, he finds a blanket nest on the bed as promised, Swiss ensconced in the middle.

“C’mere.” Swiss beckons and Dew hops on the bed and curls up next to him, his back to the multi ghoul’s chest. Swiss pulls a blanket over the two of them and starts to run his claws through Dew’s golden mane.

Once he gets all the tangles out, he starts to braid, humming softly. Dew can’t help but be reminded of Aether. The quintessence ghoul used to do this as well. He figures Aether probably told Swiss how to help and normally Dew would be angry. It’s something special and private. Aether is typically the only one Dew can truly open up with, and be this vulnerable around. But now, he finds he doesn’t mind. He lets himself relax for once as Swiss hums and whispers praise and affirmations.

Dew doesn’t know at what point he drifts off, just that for the first time in a while he’s slept peacefully. Nightmare free.

As soon as he sees the others at breakfast he apologizes. Despite his fears, they all forgive him immediately and he finds himself in the middle of a group hug. He doesn’t even feign dislike, and just lets himself enjoy being held. In their arms he feels warm, and safe, and loved.

[daddymilker691]

Well my dear and loyal readers of London’s most subversive and sought after naughty newspaper yes darlings the one who puts the shun into the sun , not that we’ve had much sun in mine and my wonderful Co Editor Dawn Greens little pleasure palace , I promised you a Friday edition and it’s a little late I do apologise but as the old adage goes better late than never so I’ll be introducing a new page five star by the name of Jessica it’s always nice to find new talent and some talent well what can I say very lovely and passionate past stars including Jodie yes you know the one the very giving Jodie Hot Sauce and very lovely Sandra Clapham and I hope to get Sue back on our books very soon before I put todays page five stars up I’d like to thank each and every one of mine and Dawns loyal readers you are all stars in your own way , so without further ado first two pics are of my incredible Co Editor of the Daily Milker more than a Co Editor a dear and loyal friend and a beautiful person but you know Dawn you can’t lay on that couch forever dear , so enough of mine and Dawns domestic disputes I’m sure there will be many more in the future to make you smile let me introduce you too a new page five star all the way from the big apple a rather shy star but when you’ve got the magic touch well dear readers enough said Jessica looking rather hesitant but I’m quite sure after today Jessica will feel much more relaxed , next was Jodie my goodness was Jodie hot sauce ever pleased to see me dear readers poor Dawn had too look away i certainty enjoyed giving one of my top page five stars the relief that was so sought after Jodie you can let go of my head now blimey talk about passionate , then Sandra Clapham I in a beautiful multi coloured dress ready of course for a very intimate and slow erotic milking , darlings we will be back very soon with both new and old page five stars thank you for your loyalty and especially to my wonderful Co Editor Dawn Green

[itsalwaysteatimeinwonderland]

Finding peace Pt. 12: Desperate (Spike x y/n)

Requested: No. Part 12 of the multi fic.

TW: None.

Word Count: 1.9k

Previous | Next

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Spike was desolate and broken. Three weeks had passed and no way into your heart. He tried apologizing but didn’t have the courage to do it. He made atonement by leaving flowers, chocolates, trinkets. Things that he knew you would love. He wanted to find a way back to you, but he was too afraid of rejection, final rejection. The finality of you closing your heart to him would send him straight to walking into the sun. After three weeks of feeling sorry for himself he tried to muster the courage to face you. He had heard you fighting demons outside of his crypt. Saw glimpses of you down the street. Stalked you outside of your house in the early morning hours. And of course, visited you every night in his dreams.

He got dressed and ready. He was thankful that he didn’t’ have breath or else it would be shallow and shaky. He walked down to your house as soon as the sun set. He knocked on your door, a rare occurrence for him. He waited. Waited. No one came. He felt defeated. All that energy to make himself face you and no answer.

Downcast he walks back to his crypt. In the distance he can hear grunting and yelling. Y/n. He walked faster to find you in the cemetery fighting off demons. He stands back, watching your handy work. He notices that a second demon appears, he lunges for him. He made sure to keep you safe. Once the fighting was done he stood there, face to face with you. You were as breath taking as ever.

He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came. You waited. Nothing. You decided to walk away.

“Wait!” he called after you. “Please, wait.”

You stand with your back to him, waiting. You didn’t want to give him a chance but these three weeks without his presence, his essence and his care were torture.

“I’m sorry.” He didn’t know what he was apologizing for, but it felt right. “Buffy and I are nothing. That night she came to me. You have to believe me.” He stepped closer to you. So close and yet so far.

You take a deep breath. You knew what your heart wanted but you knew what your brain needed. You turn to him, slowly.

“I need time.” Was all you said before you walked away.

Even though it was an answer, not a rejection, he didn’t feel triumphant. He felt empty and in despair. He wanted a quick fix. He wanted to hurry back into your arms. He knew that to make things right he had to wait till time passed. He walks back to his crypt defeated but hopeful.

A week passes and you’re itching to see Spike. You meander into the cemetery pretending to be on patrol. You asked for time but didn’t plan for how you would return to him. Yes, return to him. You realized that you needed him more than you thought.

Spike has you pegged. He knows that you stalk around the cemetery hoping to meet with him. Very schoolgirl of you. He makes himself available as much as possible.

You see him in the distance but try to play it cool. Spike does not care for niceties and is quick to lock eyes with you. He walks straight to you.

“Goo’ evening, love.” He smiles

You felt flustered and small. Why did he have so much power over you. You nod your head. His smile grows bigger at your shy demeanor.

“Patrolling?” He inquires.

“Yes.” You lie.

“Goo’ thing I’m here to help.”

You giggle. “What would I do without you?”

He asked himself that question every night. He chose not to answer. You both walk around the cemetery, looking for demons that you knew would not show up.

You both sit, side by side, on a bench nearby. You try to make small talk, but it feels unnatural and uncomfortable. Spike is watchful and intentional about his answers, and body language. He wants to make it clear that he’s ready to return to you. To be yours again.

You sigh. “This feels awkward.” You state.

“What would make you feel more comfortable?”

You look at him longingly. You wanted to say make out, to taste him, to have him back in your bed. None of those things came out of you. You bit the bullet and moved closer to him. You wanted him to see your intent. He was pleasantly surprised and wasted no time at holding your hand. It wasn’t how he expected it but it was how you accepted his apology.

“I want us to take things slow.” He said, surprising himself and you.

You look up at him. You knew this was platonic, but you needed it to be more. You needed to be anchored to him. You nod.

That night you parted ways. He wasn’t ready to share your bed yet. He wanted it, don’t get him wrong but he needed to make you feel safe first.

The next night he stopped by your house ready to escort you to the cemetery for some good ol’ patrolling. You surprise him wearing nothing but a towel.

“I’m sorry, I’m running late.” You say embarrassed. Too giddy to not answer the door, you forget what you’re wearing.

He reminds himself to keep his thoughts kosher. He wanted to believe you did it on purpose. He steps inside the house. His home. He waits for you in the living room. When you come out dressed and ready, he is reminded that if he had breath, he’d be holding it right now. So close to you and yet so far away.

As you walk down to the cemetery, he reaches for your hand. He knew this would be platonic, but he wanted to make sure you knew where he stood. If given the chance, he wanted all of you. You let him hold your hand. You want him like this. Desperate and open.

You spend the night fighting demons and having each others back. The night winds down and you’re ready to part. Spike surprised you by walking you back home. He stands on your porch ready to say good night. You’re feeling weak and lonely.

“Want to come in for a night cap?” You suggest.

He smiles and leans in and kisses you on the forehead. “Maybe next time.” He walks away.

Every night for two weeks the same scenario plays over and over again. Spike walks you to and from patrolling, hand in hand. You alternate nights and excuses to have him come in, and every time he declines. This night you’d given up. No more putting yourself out there. He meant it when he said he wanted to take things slow. He has already mentioned before, he wanted to do things right. He wanted to show that this was different. You accepted his explanation. It made you feel special. It made you feel right. However, you couldn’t help feeling anxious, a void, every time he declined your invitation.

You thanked him for helping you and turned to enter your house. As you were closing the door he put his foot out to hold it. You open the door confused.

“I’m ready for that night cap.”

You were ecstatic, ready to burst. You lead him in, and you share a drink. One drink turns into two. Two turns into three and before you knew it you were both on the tipsy side.

Spike knew things would get out of hand but his own nerves couldn’t stop him from drinking. He had never been nervous around you but now that you were working to rebuild the relationship together, he felt vulnerable and small. He notices that the conversation you guys were having had taken a turn into heavier more sensual things. You shared what turns you on and how to get you there. Spike hung to every word, memorizing them for future reference. After all those drinks he felt bold and sat as close to you as possible. He leaned in and placed a hand on your thigh as he whispered in your ear what he enjoyed. You giggled like a schoolgirl at the nasty confession.

You put your drink down and looked at him. Your faces mere inches from each other. This didn’t constitute going slow. However, he knew that nothing would happen. You were too ingulfed in your curse to make a move. He had been here before. Brushing lips, bodies pressed, shared breaths and you always back away.

You take a deep breath and lean in to kiss him. As you capture Spike’s lips he’s surprised and weak. He is quick to lean in, frantic for your touch. Your kiss starts slow and chaste. Spike takes your lead. You lose control and kiss him with wanton abandon. Hot and heavy. Spike matches your pace begging for entrance into your mouth to trace his tongue against yours. Before you can regain control you’re straddling him creating friction between the two of you.

Hot white electricity courses through your brain. Your mind is a whirlwind of passion and need. Spike is happily caught in your bout of desire and lust. He wants more. He hopes for more. He is hard and ready for you. His arms are tight around you waiting for the signal to undress you and take you like he anxiously wanted to.

Suddenly, you stop. You jump off him and straighten your clothes. You refuse to make eye contact.

“Maybe it’s better if you go.”  You say in a low voice.

Spike is still hard and ready. He is caught in the moment that has now passed. He is confused and hopeless.

“Why do you do this to me?” Was all he could muster.

You bite your lip, ashamed. “I.. I wasn’t thinking. This isn’t fair to you.”

He stands up angry and resentful. He was tired of playing games. He needed her whole or not at all.

“You’re never thinking of me. It’s always about your curse. What you want. Have you ever considered what I want? The sacrifices I’ve made for you?”

You shrink back. He was wrong. You did think of him. You felt bad for what you did and are doing to him. However, with him, it felt like you had no control. Like you’re always on the peak of letting go and drowning in him.

“I do think of you, a lot. More than I want. More than I can handle.” You raise your face defiantly.

He’s taken aback by your confession. He walks towards you and holds your face with his hand.

“Let me be here for you. You deserve to be happy. I want to be everything for you. Just let me in.”

You search his eyes for any untruth. For too long you knew how he felt. For too long you lied to yourself and said that it was superficial. Now it’s out in the open. There is no way to go back without losing him.

“Let’s take it slow.” You state.

He leans his forehead against yours. “Anything for you.”

That night he stayed the night. The interactions were different. Intimate. Vulnerable. He held you through the night afraid this might be a dream. He didn’t know what the oracle said and he didn’t care. If he wasn’t your soulmate why did he feel this way. He may not be fully yours, or you his, but this was a start. He still didn’t feel like he deserved you but he reveled in his defiance to the gods and the universe. You were open to having him and he’d be damned if he let you go. His demons would not win this time. He would claim what he believed to be his. He may not be a saint, but he was ready to pray and be devote at your altar.