#have you ever seen them in a room together??

[leaawrites]

Dial Drunk

Lando Norris x fem!reader

Summary: in which, Lando is young, drunk and in love.

Warnings: police, driving under influence, mentions of alcohol, mentions of a breakup, bad dialogue (this one is old)

Wordcount: 1.8k

Masterlist

He’d seen the blue and red colour in his rear view mirror long before he could even register that he was sat in his car, neither where he was driving. His head felt dull, filled with too many thoughts of things he swore to forget. Things he swore wouldn’t matter anymore because they shouldn’t. One of them being her.

She was in all of them actually, whether she played the main character or was just a side thought, but she was always there. In the back of his mind, where he still heard her voice talk to him in such a soft tone like no one would ever be able to do, she was still taking his hands and making him dance with her through his living room. Even against every complaint from his side, she wouldn’t let him sit down again. Instead they were swaying to the rock song that played next.

Now, he was looking at the officer standing next to his car, a disappointment look in both their eyes and a sense of the other in their mind. They were in the middle of nowhere. Lando on his way to her. The man on his way back to his work, probably to link out for tonight and go back home. A place where Lando should be too.

“What have we been up to tonight, sir?” He asked, looking down at the bruised knuckles that still held onto the steering wheel like he was afraid of letting go and having nothing to steady himself on.

Lando wasn’t too sure how to answer. He wasn’t too sure about what he was up to that night himself. A couple drinks in a club, which Max urged him to go to, in order to ‘free him from his bed and sulking’. After the shots, there were some girls. Interesting enough to dance with but he knew that they wouldn’t come home with him, he was sure they knew that too. They knew who he was. And then - a guy he wouldn’t call a stranger, neither a friend, simply some guy he knew - said something about her. About them.

His voice dripped with alcohol, his words intoxicated by the shots they took together. Lando shouldn’t have taken them the way he did, he knew that now, but it felt right in the moment. His fist in the other guy’s face, he just wanted him to stop talking. Unsure if he would’ve made him quiet forever, Max pulled him away quicker than Lando could think about his actions. Then he went away; out into the cold and into his car to tell her about the bad he’d done for her.

“Not a lot,” Lando answered, looking down guilty. Both of them knew that Lando wasn’t sober, they also knew that he wouldn’t get away from this unharmed.

“May you blow into this?”

He did, and when the officer raised his eyebrows at the result of the alcohol test, Lando knew he was fucked.

“Is there anyone you can call to pick you up?” The officer asked, dialling a number of his own on his phone already, not looking up at Lando once while talking to him. It was kind of rude, Lando believed, to ignore someone while you were talking to them. “Any emergency contacts?”

At no response, the man held out his hand for Lando to place his phone in it. Going to the emergency contacts himself, there was only one. Y/n. Simple. No heart behind her name anymore, no silly nickname, but her face was still beside it. Dialling the number it rang and rang. Lando could hear the endless sound from his place in the car, it dragged on for a while before, in the end, she hung up.

“Your only emergency contacts and they don’t even want to speak to you, not very helpful,” he commented, handing Lando his phone back. The screen lighting up at the interaction. Her face still smiling at him, he hadn’t had the heart to make her disappear completely from everywhere he knew her from. Some part of her was still with him and he couldn’t just throw it away.

“Can I drive you somewhere, sir?”

The outline of her building was in his sight sooner than he’d like it to be, the speech he’d rehearsed ever since they called it quits was now somewhere still in his car, left together with the jacket of his she loved to wear.

“You alright, kid?” The officer - Jeff - asked, knowing too well what he was going through. Anyone willing to look at him could see it in the once white, now red of his eye. It was visible in his pulled down lip corners and the void of nothing in his eyes. Feeling nothing was worse than feeling the pain, they concluded together in silence on their drive to the address Lando gave him.

‘I have a kid of my own, you know, son? He’s been in love with this boy for years now, too afraid of what would happen to him if he stated the truth, what the people would think of him. But, in the end, I told him, that love couldn’t be stopped, no matter what other people thought about it. Whether it was wrong or right in their eyes, it will always matter how it feels to you. If it’s hurting, change it. If it makes you happy, try everything to make it stay that way.’

“Thanks,” Lando muttered, a soft, still forced smile creeping on his lips now that he was there. The place he went to in his dreams as the dream she always believed he was. The dream boy she saw in him. Her dream boy.

“Good luck.”

The doorbell seemed too loud for the quiet night now, as he looked at it. The metal of it seeming too heavy for him to be able to push it down and make himself known. He couldn’t throw pebbles at her window, he wasn’t even too sure if he could even remember which window was hers.

But her name called out for him to say it once more, no matter the outcome. He just had to try it one more time.

Pushing the circle in the middle of the medal, next to her name, he could hear it echo in his mind. The sound too familiar now that he was stood here again. How many times had he been on the receiving end because he went to her apartment unannounced, without her there, and answering the door for postmen or neighbours? Too many too count, he concluded in the same moment as he heard her voice through the stereo.

“Hello?” Her voice sounded sleepy, like she’d only woken up from the sound.

All of a sudden, Lando felt flustered. Ashamed for thinking she’d just forgive him on the spot because he told her, that he loved her. It wasn’t as easy as that and that thought only crept up on him now: she had every right to deny him. But what then? What would he do? Where would he go? He couldn’t call Max, disturbing his night out because he wasn’t the man she wanted anymore. He had no one else here. His parents were too far away and everyone else he knew was either in Monaco or somewhere else in the world, just not London.

“Hello?” She voiced again, more rage filling her voice this time. “I swear if this is some stupid joke, just let it be-”

“It’s me.” Maybe he was the joke. Maybe he should just let it be.

The simple sound of his voice made her go quiet, but she didn’t hang up, she was still there, her breathing was heard when listened to closely enough.

“Can we talk?”

She let him in. The harsh buzz of the door taking him by surprise at first, before he quickly pushed it open and made his way into the hallway, up the stairs until he stood in front of her door. It was open, open for him to enter. Lando stayed still for a second longer than normally someone would, before he pushed it open to reveal the apartment behind the walls. It still looked the same, she had less pictures - theirs gone from their place - but other than that it was all the same as when he left.

Y/n was sat on the sofa, knees pulled up close to her chest and her eyes were fixated on the floor in front of her. The far left of the cushion still empty, waiting for him. Slowly, Lando made his way towards it, sitting down and taking off his head like it was disrespectful if he didn’t do it.

“You wanted to talk?” Her voice almost sounded sarcastic, like she couldn’t believe those words actually left his mouth. Him, the man who left without a second word beside: This is something I have to do alone; before walking out the door for what she believed to be forever now wanted to talk all of a sudden.

“I was dumb,” he started, the words coming out faster than he could process them. The alcohol taking off the nerves and adding the free mind he needed. “I wasn’t truthful and I was stupid and an complete wanker. I wanted you beside me, I also will and want and have. I want to love you and I know I screwed up but please, please give me another chance. Please, Y/n. Monaco, it’s so quiet without you. My whole life is too quiet now that you aren’t there. You and your laugh and talks about whatever it is that’s been on your mind lately. I miss it all.

“I miss you.”

She would lie if she said she didn’t feel the same, the city felt too big now that she had spent more time alone in it. But she would lie if she said that she was ready to forgive him.

“You hurt me. You really did.”

“I know.”

“You made me feel unwanted, like a burden almost.”

“You could never be a burden to me.”

“Didn’t sound like it back then.”

“I’m sorry.”

She sighed, rubbing her temple and the side of her face in order to make the headache go away that she knew was coming her way.

“You can’t just expect me to forgive you.”

“I don’t,” he assured her, edging closer to her side.

“Then why are you here?”

“Because I want to try and make you trust me again.”

“I never stopped trusting you.”

“You should’ve.”

“I know, but I didn’t.”

“Look, Lando.” She could see the feelings of hope and disappointment battling in his eyes, neither wanting to be wrong, because they both knew they were right, in certain ways. “I can’t just forgive you. You have to work that out yourself.”

“I will. I will do whatever it takes for you to trust me again, I promise. I just can’t keep on living without you.”

[sturnsrecord]

CLIMB THROUGH MY WINDOW

PART THREE — [fuckboy!chris x smart!reader. alcohol, drugs, blowjob]. somethings changed between you and chris, but you’re a smart girl and you know what it is — telling yourself to ignore how you feel and what’s going on.

ʚ part one ɞ — ʚ part two ɞ

you walk around the house, desperately looking for bella. “oh my god, where have you been?” she looks up at you from her position on a random couch, her words slurring slightly. “i was with chris.” you mumble watching as her expression shifts to a sly grin. 

you roll your eyes at her insinuation. “shut up.” you huff, sitting down next to her.

“have you just been sat here alone?” you ask, subtly changing the subject. she scoffs, taking another swig of her drink which she definitely didn't need. “no- i was making out with some guy, but he left to get himself a drink.” she explains, her words a little jumbled.

you raise your eyebrows. “oooh, who is this guy?” you question, showing more interest in the hopes she doesn’t ask about chris. but she shuts it down, clearly more interested in your life than talking about her own.

“did you finally fuck him?” she asks, blurting out the words. you drop the act, letting out a sigh. “no, i didn't.” you mumble, pausing as you hesitate to continue. “he went down on me.” you add quietly.

she lets out a shriek, before gasping and grabbing your arm. “oh my god, was it good?” she leans in, whispering the last part.

you look over at her before slowly nodding your head, unable to hold back the grin on your face. her hand tightens on your arm. “holy shit! that good?” she questions, knowing that the way you responded meant it must’ve been really fucking good.

“would you calm down?” you usher, looking around to make sure no one was witnessing this interaction. she pulls back, a guilty look on her face as she motions locking her lips. 

“so when are you having sex?” she says quietly, clearly not abiding to shutting up. you roll your eyes at her nagging questions. to be honest, you had no idea, so you hesitate to answer.

“do you think your parents are having any effect on this?” she asks carefully. you frown. “what no?!” you exclaim wanting to deny it to the ends of the earth. but then you think, looking down as you fiddle with the bottom of your skirt. “i know i'm not gonna go to hell for having sex before marriage.” you mumble out.

bella sighs, leaning into your space. “yeah i know you know that- you’re not fuckin stupid.” you let out a little sigh at her reassuring yet slightly inconsiderate words. 

“i'm sayin, maybe you don’t wanna disappoint them.” she elaborates. 

you think for a second, her words taking you back a little. did she just completely hit the nail on the head? no, because you were gonna have sex with chris. right?

“i wouldn't disappoint them.” you mumble out. “cause i wouldn’t tell them.” you explain, trying your hardest to rationalise against bella. 

“so you’re saying you wouldn’t feel even a little guilty?” she pushes, holding her thumb and her index ever so close together.

you turn to her, pushing away her hand. “what do you know, you’re just a drunk girl with too many talking rights.” you mutter playfully.

she scoffs at your words slumping back against the couch as she crosses her arms over her chest. “wow.” she scoffs again, shaking her head. “i can't believe this.” she mumbles dramatically. 

she continues to complain, incoherently mumbling about how she was completely right and you were just stubborn. 

but you weren’t listening.

your attention was fixed on chris who you had spotted across the room. it’s like your mind and body just knew when he appeared, your gaze automatically shifting to him like an alert had gone off in your brain. 

you usually looked a few times, took note of what he was doing and then returned your attention back to whatever you were doing. 

but this time you were unable to look away, your stomach turning at the sight of him talking to another girl. 

it’s not like you’d never seen him do this before, in fact you’d probably be able to completely mimic the way he flirts just by the copious amount of times you've seen him do it.

what made you feel nauseous right now wasn't the thought of him with another girl but rather the fact that your stomach dropped at the sight. 

you’d never cared before, and that was easy. 

but watching him right now, smiling every time that stupid girl put her hands on him, ‘mindlessly’ grabbing his arm- it made you feel sick to your stomach. 

you weren’t naive, it was obviously jealousy, which came from a place that you were willing to ignore. 

“hello- i swear to god you actually just don’t fucking listen to me, like holy hell.” bella complains beside you, which makes you turn back to her.

“sorry, i'm here.” you mumble. she lifts her head back up, looking over to where your gaze was before, taking in the scene of chris flirting with some girl. 

“you told him you didn’t care if he fucked other girls.” she mumbles out unhelpfully.

you playfully smack her arm, although she’s completely right. “yeah because i didn’t.” you huff, still looking his way. 

“past tense… interesting.” she mumbles, pretending to be in deep thought. you turn back to her, your mouth slightly open in shock. “would you stop analysing me, it’s freaking me out.” you tell her, not loving her drunk personality right now. 

she holds her hands up in surrender, letting out a small giggle at your situation. “i hate you right now.” you mumble, letting your head fall to your hands.

“no you don’t.” she mumbles, pulling you into a hug. “you love me.” she mocks, dragging you down so that the both of you are slouched into the sofa, half your body on hers.

at this point you've given up the grumpy facade, giggling with her. but you both quieten down when someone approaches, a drink in their hand.

“uh, bella?”

you turn to see an attractive man with a confused look on his face. “oh my god.” she chuckles beside you as you awkwardly sit up. “this is the guy i was talking about.” she shrieks, one hand gripping his top whilst the other held onto your arm like she was introducing the two of you. 

you smile up at him awkwardly as he gives you a little nod of acknowledgement, although his attention quickly returns to bella as she tugs on his shirt.

you're not sure how it happens, but when you look up from fixing your skirt his drink is on the side and his lips are on hers.

“oh, wow.” you mutter in slight shock, shuffling along the couch as they begin to make out. “jesus.” you sigh under your breath before standing up and leaving.

you never enjoyed walking around a party alone. and sober.

you found it so awkward, especially when you were mindlessly walking with no place to be, just hoping you'd find a situation you could involve yourself in.

what you hated even more was feeling like a complete loser when the guy you'd just gotten with was taking a girl upstairs right before your eyes.

you stood in the other room, looking through the doorway as she led him up the stairs, watching like some creep at their every interaction for all of five seconds.

you told yourself you were fine, that it didn't bother you. you tried your hardest to jump back into your precious carefree mindset, trying to hone in on the old feeling.

but something had changed.

something had switched in you because all you could feel was pure jealousy and most of all dread.

was he gonna fuck her? was he gonna do exactly what he did with you? was he gonna enjoy it more?

the thoughts rattled in your head. you knew you were overthinking, but it was hard to combat the intense feeling in you with rational thoughts.

you decided on a cup of straight vodka and a cig out front, sat alone on the steps to the house.

occasionally people would walk past, either leaving or joining the party. maybe it was the increasing alcohol intake or the lack of acknowledgement from others, but for once you weren’t embarrassed to be seen alone.

“you sat all alone?”

you turn to see chris, hands in his pockets as he looked down at you with a smirk. you give him a weak nod before looking back down at your feet.

“you good?” he asked, concern in his voice as he sat down beside you. “yeah, i'm fine.” you mumble, smiling a little, usually the move that would make chris actually believe you.

“you got an almost empty cup of somethin,” he peers down at it in your hand. “and you're smokin.” he points out, making a point against your pathetic stand.

you shrug like this is your usual state. “what's wrong?” he presses, his voice slightly softer.

you're taken back by his unusual care and attention to your emotions, used to him usually just moving on when you told him you were fine.

but now how could you tell him what was wrong.

you think, swirling around the remaining vodka in the cup. now would've been a great time for him to not care.

“is this neat vodka?” he questions with a frown. you zone back in, looking over at him. “...yeah.” you mumble out. he motions towards it before gently taking it from your grasp.

he takes a swig, wincing at the taste. “you’re fucking insane.” he tells you before handing whatever was left back. 

“you're also upset.” he circles back. “or y’know- not doin too hot.” he says, evidently not very good with comforting words.

“not doing too hot?” you question, subtly trying to avoid answering the question.

he shakes his head, giving you a look. “y;know what i mean.” he huffs, his gaze turning into warmth, like he was trying to coax the information out of you with a look.

you shrug again, rummaging through your mind for an excuse, or another reason why you would feel shit. but as you think, horrendous images of chris and that girl pop up into your brain, stilling your train of thought for a second as well as your heart.

“you don’t have to talk t’me bout’ your issues.” he mumbles, reassuring a little as he pulled out a paper to roll a joint. 

you look over, snapping back into reality and out of your stupid thoughts. “it's not that- i just…” you sigh, unable to explain yourself. 

“m’just not used to you asking me shit like that.” you mumble out meekly.

the corner of his lips turn up, his eyes remaining on the half rolled joint in his hands. you take note of the small, amused reaction. “are you only asking me what's wrong because you're coked?” you blurt out, an almost shot in the dark.

he frowns a little, but the amusement on his face never leaves. “nah.” he shakes his head, denying your accusation. “might be why i'm persistently askin’.” he admits.

“big word for you chris.” you hum, mocking him in retaliation. he rolls his eyes, biting back a smile, but you could see it seeping through. the way he genuinely found you funny, even though he liked to keep you in check by never admitting it. 

“shut the fuck up.” he chuckles, shaking his head as he speaks. 

a peaceful silence settles between you as he delicately licks the paper, smoothing it over into a perfect cone. despite what he was doing, she admired how good he was. 

“i could teach ya y’know.” he says, clearly taking notice of her attention. “i don't wanna learn how to do that.” you tell him.

he shrugs, fiddling with it as he looks over at you. “why not?” he asks, like you were crazy for turning that down. “just don't.” you mumble, looking over at him.

you'd forgotten how close he'd sat, the both of you looking at one another shining a light on the lack of space between your bodies.

close enough to kiss him.

the thought flashes through you before you can even think, and now your lips are on his in a soft delicate kiss. 

you can't tell if he's shocked and frozen or just kissing back so gently it almost felt like nothing. but then his free hand wraps around your waist, caressing the skin through your top.

it's a slow careful kiss, with no intention of anything further.

he pulls away, clearing his throat a little before his hand comes back to the joint. he shifts to find a lighter, almost trying to do something to distract his mind from that kiss. 

you on the other hand stare at his very move, almost infatuated with him. it's like that kiss had put a spell on you, completely consuming your mind.

you craved the feeling, wanting nothing more than to feel that soft touch from him again. but you know it won't happen again. like you'd both  been caught in a loophole, into another universe where you weren't you and chris… but you also were.

he brings the zoot to his lips, lighting it before he takes a long toke, exhaling it as his body relaxed.

you want to speak, break the silence before it becomes awkward, but it never does. the two of you sat there not exchanging a single word, which made you think that he felt it too. 

he passes the joint to you, brushing the tobacco crumbs off his lap with his other hand as he holds it out for you.

you raise your eyebrows before taking it from him, taking a small puff as he leans his elbows on his knees. “don't have too much, y’already tipsy.” he suggests.

it's not an order or a demand but rather a playful comment from a place of care. “i'm not tipsy.” you scoff, keeping up the light conversation. 

“ok fine, drunk.” he huffs, correcting himself sarcastically as he rolls his eyes. you smack his arm lightly. “i'm fine, practically sober.” you tell him, lying straight through your teeth. 

he shakes his head a little, clearly debating between staying quiet or continuing the conversation. “you initiated a kiss- you ain't sober.” he says, lightly mocking you for being tipsy.

you roll your eyes at his light insult, looking over at him before talking. “you think i wouldn't kiss you sober?” you question, your voice quiet yet clear.

his eyebrows raise at the change in vibe of the conversation as he motions for you to pass the joint back. “not like that.” he responds before inhaling. 

you squint your eyes, the corner of your mouth tugging up. “like what?” you ask, your voice barely loud enough for him to hear.  

he lets out a small chuckle at your teasing tone, loving the way you were testing him. but he doesn't respond, giving you a small look which said everything and more. 

“you're funny when y’drunk.” he mumbles with a small smile, clearly finding this whole ordeal very funny. “m’not-”

“yeah, yeah- i know.” he interrupts, motioning you to stop, not wanting to hear you defend yourself anymore. 

he focuses in on smoking as you finish the last sip of your vodka, earning a judgemental glare from him. you watch as he hesitates to speak, clearly ready to say something.

“can i take y’home?” he asks, his tone making it obvious that he was trying to keep it casual. “i'm sleeping over at bellas.” you respond in a whisper, feeling bad for indirectly rejecting his offer. 

but he just nods, not showing a single care in the world that you didn't immediately say yes. “you guys gettin’ an uber?” he asks, although it's more of a suggestion. 

you press your lips together, nodding.

“good.” he muttered before taking another toke, watching the smoke as it left his lips. 

you sit in another calm silence, something that had been happening more often. you thought that it was because of all the unspoken words between you that you would be saying in these times. but you didn't talk- at least not in the way you should be. letting every tension-filled moment pass until it faded into the past. 

he takes a final toke, flicking the butt to the floor before he stood. “lemme know if your plans change, yeah?” he mumbles out as he walks back in, leaving you sat alone again.

you go to respond but he's gone, his offer hanging heavy in the air. for once you felt yourself buckling at his words, the sudden urge to put him above all else looming over you, like he was in your head. 

did he know how to get in there? was this all a mind fuck to get you at his demand?

you turn your head to the door, almost as if you were looking at him again. god did you feel stupid for wanting him so badly, a silly little fuck boy who gave you just enough attention to get you hooked.

of course you knew all about his ways before getting yourself here, you just thought you were smart enough to not fall for it. 

but did chris’s mysterious, charming personality really trump your intelligence and self respect? 

“wait, why can't you go home?” he asks as the both of you walk down the road, you explaining that you couldn't just walk into your house this late at night. 

“because i told my parents i was sleeping over at bellas.” you say, watching as he rolls you a cigarette whilst walking. he nods a little, but it's obvious he doesn't completely understand.

“you always smoke this much when you're drunk?” he asks, raising an eyebrow as he hands you the cig. you put on a thinking face, slotting the cig between your lips as you search your bag for a lighter. “difficult to answer.” you ponder. “considering i'm not drunk.” you say with certainty, giving him a look.

“sorry, how could i forget.” he mumbles, bringing a lighter to the end of the cigarette. you watch as the flame lights the paper, blowing in and out to get it lit. 

you’d caved.

going back into the party to find chris, subtly hinting that you did want him to take you home. bella was more than ok with it, getting excited for you. (which you shut down quickly).

but here you were, on your way to sleep over at a boys house. chris’s house. you'd never been in his room before, and quite frankly you were shocked he even agreed to take you to his house.

but there was something comforting about how he let you in, not shutting you out, and if anything encouraging to spend more time with you. 

after walking in silence for a while, he motions you to pass the cigarette to him. “you always smoke this much when you're drunk?” you mimic his previous question as he rolls his eyes. 

“shut up.” he scoffs, holding it between his fingers as he exhaled. “m’not drunk.” he mumbles under his breath before bringing the cigarette back up to his lips. 

“huh, sure.” you scoff back to annoy him. he rolls his eyes again in response as he passes the cig back. “m’actually not drunk- so zip it.” he snarks.

“yes you are.” you tease, pointing your hand at him, smoke trickling out of the cigarette. “you wouldn't be letting me sleep over if you werent.” you continue, raising an eyebrow as you brought your hand back to your own personal space.

“would’ya stop mimickin’ our entire convo from earlier?” he accuses, his brows scrunching together. “wha- what?” you halt, holding your arms out dramatically. 

“keep walkin.” he huffs, motioning you to get a move on. but you took it as avoidance, to move away from his previous statement. 

“what convo?” you mumble as you catch up to him, a look of confusion on your face. he shakes his head, as if that's a response. then it clicks in your brain. “when you said i wouldn't kiss you like that if i was sober?” you tease, a smirk playing on your lips as you look across to him.

he lets out a sigh, like he's given up when it comes to light conversation with you. and like he knew what you were about to say next.

“so what did you mean by that again?” you tease, pushing his buttons a little. he shrugs, playing it off as he casually slips his hands into his jean pockets.

“that it was a random kiss is all.” he responds. “but you said ‘like that’- what does ‘like that’ mean?” you press.

he lets out a small chuckle. “was a good kiss.” he shrugs, looking over at you. you send him a sweet smile, letting the soft compliment seep in. “oh shut up- dont look at me like that.” he huffs, turning to look the other way, but not before you spot the soft blush across his face.

no fucking way. 

“like what?” you question after a beat, just pushing him further. “okay, we're movin’ on.” he tells you warningly.

“ok, ok.” you nod, watching as he relaxes a little. you both walk in silence for a bit, abiding by his wish to stop talking.

“so what did you and that girl do?” you mumble quietly, and oh so stupidly. your words leaving your mouth before you could think, probably because of the alcohol in your system. (not that you'd admit it).

he scoffs, an amused look on his face. you couldn't tell if he was shocked that you'd asked, or somewhat admired it. but he gave the same back, answering your question just as bluntly as you'd asked it.

“she sucked m’dick.” he mumbles, looking over to gauge your reaction. 

it was hard to hide your own shock that he’d actually answered, not beating around the bush. but you nod a little, looking ahead. 

he hesitates for a second before speaking again. “why, you jealous or somethin?” he asks with a sly grin.

“do you want me to be?” you respond, just as cocky. 

he's taken back a little but doesnt let it show, shrugging yet again. he goes to say yes, but stops himself realising how that looks. “nah.” he shakes his head, looking down for a second. 

“then i'm not.” you hum, passing what's left of the cig back to him. he takes a toke, clearly thinking for a second as the both of you walk. “you don't have to be.” he mumbles, peering over at you, clearly not believing you. “could always just, y’know.” he looks down at his crotch, the suggestion clear as day.

you smack his arm, scoffing at his audacity. “you serious? is this how you get girls to do shit, use their jealousy against them?” you question, only partially joking, because of course you wanted to. 

“so you are jealous.” he points out with a cocky smirk, flicking the butt to the road. you roll your eyes, looking away momentarily. 

“fuck off.” you mutter, your cocky facade crumbling as you feel your shyness take over again. he nudges you a little, a grin plastered on his face. “don't get shy on me.” he teases. 

you simply blush at his words, only getting more and more timid. but he smiles, finding it sweet as he hangs his arm over your shoulder.

you get to chris's house, following behind him as he unlocks the front door and walks in. it's a nice house, similar to yours. 

you quietly creep up the stairs behind him, taking in his room as he opens the door. it's a typical teenage boys room, but with more posters and decorations than you thought there’d be.

“will your parents care that i'm here?” you mindlessly ask as your eyes roam over the room. he shakes his head as he empties out his pockets onto his desk that's already piled with junk. “nah, they won't come in.” he responds. 

you nod, walking over to his unmade bed to sit, taking a closer look at his bedside table, noticing a picture stuck to his wall. “you have a sister?” you question.

he whips his head round in confusion before noticing what you were looking at. “yeah, but she's in college.” he says, taking his coat off to throw it onto his chair. 

“huh.” you nod, wondering why he'd never spoken about her. but then again, when did you and chris ever sit down and talk about your family trees?

“you can borrow a t-shirt or somethin’.” he says, motioning towards his draws. your gaze follows, taking in the furniture, some of the bottom drawers not fully closed because of how stuffed they are. 

you stand, opening the top drawers to find his socks and boxers. you shut it before opening the next ones down, pulling out a random t-shirt. 

“pornstar?” you question, reading out the graphic on the shirt. he cocks his head round from where he's sat at his desk, raising an eyebrow as well as the corner of his lip. “what? you dont fuck with it?” he taunts.

you shake your head with a smile, shutting the drawer before taking your current top off to slip into his t-shirt. “got any pyjama bottoms?” you ask.

“uh, nah.” he responds, looking your legs up and down, clearly wanting you to not cover up. “don't own any.” he teases wickedly.

you roll your eyes, slipping your denim skirt off to leave you in just his t-shirt and underwear. he smirks before returning his attention back to his desk. 

“what’re you doing?” you question, walking over as you rest your hand on the back of his chair. the view of him rolling a joint answers your question as you nod, raising your eyebrows. 

you weren't one to comment on someone else's habits, but it was honestly impressive how much he smoked. 

you stand behind him, watching as he does his thing. “wanna sit?” your eyes tune in immediately, your hand dropping from the back of the chair. “oh sorry.” you mumble out, backing away to go sit back on the bed.

he turns, face contorted in confusion. “the fuck you doin’?”

“huh, i was jus-” you go to explain but he cuts you off. “meant on m’lap.” he explains, amused at your misunderstanding. 

your face heats up slightly before you stand up. “gladly.” you mumble, sauntering over to sit sideways across his lap, chris's upper body leaning back slightly to give you space. 

then he leans forward into your space, continuing his previous activity. your arm wraps around his shoulders, the other leaning against his desk that was digging into your side ever so slightly.

“you wanna crumble some in?” he offers, holding out the clay-like chunk of hash. you take it from him, observing it curiously. “you giving me a tutorial?” you tease, removing your arm from around his shoulders, leaning further onto the desk.

“somethin’ like that.” he murmurs, his eyes darting down to your ass, nothing but your black lacy underwear covering it. 

“ok, so what do i do?” you frown, completely oblivious to his ogling. “uh, jus’ use your fingers to pick small pieces off.” he instructs, now looking over your shoulder to watch your movements. “yeah, yeah. jus’ like that.” he praises as you crumble small pieces over the line of tobacco in the paper. 

he watches you closely. “make sure it's even across the tobacco.” he tells you.

“like this?” you question, crumbling more at the front and end. “uh-huh.” he nods, before his gaze lingers back down to your ass, his hand following suit as he gently squeezes the flesh.

you smile as you feel his hand on you, his fingers digging into your ass. “is this why you wanted me on your lap?” you ask, your attention focussed on what you were doing. 

he shrugs, a lazy grin on his face. “jus’ an added bonus.” he mumbles, tilting his head back to get a better look. 

“hmm, sure.” you hum back, knowing that it was all calculated. not that you minded the groping. 

“s’that good?” you ask, handing back the chunk of hash. he turns his attention back, his hands returning to the table. 

“mhm.” he hums, picking up the paper to roll it into a neat cone. you keep your arms on your lap, watching as he licks the paper and does whatever. then he taps your thigh, telling you to get off.

you scooch off his lap, chris standing up with a sigh before he lightly slaps your ass, 

“awfully touchy today.” you taunt, following as he sits on his bed, opening the window. “shut up.” he scoffs in response, clearly not wanting to address it. 

you climb onto the bed, sitting by the window opposite him, legs crossed. he lights the joint, making no effort to keep it out of the window. it was obvious that he did this a lot. 

you smoke in silence for a while, chris passing it to you before leaning against the wall. “you still drunk?” he chimes, an undertone of care and worry in his voice.

you shrug, exhaling out of the window unlike chris had been doing. “i was never drunk.” you mumble, looking over at him with a teasing glare. 

“hmm.” he nods. “so you're still keepin’ that up.” he mocks. you shake your head slightly, rolling your eyes.

“i was tipsy at most.” you huff, ashing the zoot on the window ledge. he raises his eyebrows. “so you admit it.” he retorts. you playfully shove him a little, only spurring on his cocky grin.

“you're so annoying.” you sigh, handing him the joint. “you love it.” he murmurs under his breath, taking a toke. 

you pull a face, furrowing your brows as if to deny his accusation. but you both knew it was true. 

“so how was she?” you ask, pettiness drowning out your words. he scoffs, his tongue darting out in his cheek.

“what? don’t wanna talk about it?” you taunt stupidly. maybe you were lying about not being drunk, or you just liked to prod and push him in ways he didn't like. 

“don't do that shit.” he scoffs, not quite as amused as you. but you don’t let out, just shrugging at him. “god, y’really know what to say.” he mutters sarcastically, shaking his head. 

it was stupid of you to bring it up again, especially like this. you’d told chris from the start you didn't care about other girls, yet here you were. acting like a bratty, petty girl, desperate to be his no.1 in a swarm of girls. 

“m’just curious.” you mumble, lying through your teeth.

he scoffs again, getting slightly annoyed at your attitude you were keeping up. “you're curious?” he echos, raising an eyebrow. “curious about another girl suckin’ my dick?” he snaps, his voice slightly harsher than usual.

“yeah.” you sigh, acting like this was a normal conversation, or that it hadn’t come out of the blue. he takes a toke of the joint before passing it back to you, refusing to answer by staying quiet. 

“we're friends, i don't care.” you shrug, inhaling some of the joint. “just curious.” you repeat.

he lets out a huff, reluctantly answering. “was alright, nothin’ special.” he mumbles, looking over to see your reaction.

“did you come?” you blurt out, choosing to prioritise your curiosity over the logical idea to stay quiet, absentmindedly ignoring what chris does with his dick.

he chuckles under his breath, now finding it funny how serious you were. “no.” he responds, looking over at you. 

“so, can’t have been that good.” you tease. he raises his eyebrows, letting out an amused chuckle. he didn't know if he loved or hated this side of you.

“you're on one right now.” he says, shaking his head as he motions for you to pass the zoot. 

“why?” you chuckle, acting innocent in your intentions of the horrid conversation you had started. he takes it from your hand, taking a toke before speaking. “cause you ain’t even sucked a dick before.” he retorts, knocking you down a peg or two.

you pull a face, shrugging. then something takes over your body, the same thing that has made you act like this in the first place. 

you shift in your spot on the bed, leaning forward to begin unbuckling his belt. he kisses his teeth, rolling his eyes. “the fuck you doin’?” he questions, thinking you were teasing him or pulling his leg.

“what do you think?” you whisper back, unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans. 

he looks down, watching your hands. almost waiting for you to stop and say that you were messing with him.

but then your hand dips below his boxers as you tug out his soft dick like you'd done it a million times. “seriously, what're you doin’?” he scoffs, thinking you wouldn't go through with it considering you’d made it pretty clear that you weren't exactly up for everything.

you sigh, looking up at him with all seriousness. “sucking your dick.” you say as if he was stupid for even asking.

his throat goes dry realising you're serious, his dick twitching as it immediately begins to grow hard as the words leave your mouth.

you wrap your hand around his cock, pumping it a few times, before you scooch back to give yourself more space. you bring your mouth to the tip of his half hard dick, experimentally licking the slit.

he takes a toke of the joint, watching you with dark eyes, watching as he takes in the fact you weren’t bluffing.

he doesn't say anything, letting you do what you want at your own pace, turned on by the fact you'd never done this before. 

you take his dick further, going about half way as you slowly slide it in and out of your mouth. he takes in a sharp breath, his dick stiffening fully now that he was in your mouth. 

he tries not to speak, but his desperation gets the better of him. “go further.” he mumbles, his voice hoarse. 

you look up at him through your lashes before abiding, taking his dick further down your throat until you feel the need to gag, pulling off before you do.

you recover quickly though, collecting the saliva in your mouth as you duck your head back down, sucking this time, your cheeks hollowed. you don't go as deep, instead stopping before you can gag, as you bob your head up and down.

“oh shiit-” he groans, the unexpected change in pace driving him crazy. you wrap your hand around the base, pumping it as you suck him hard. “fuck, you sure you never done this before?” he breathes out, taking another look at you. 

you mumble around his dick, sending shivers down his spine.

you'd never done this before, and you were making it up as you went along. maybe part of the motivation was to prove yourself, a petty part of you wanting to make sure this was ten times better than what any other girl could give him. and maybe that extra motivation is exactly what made this a mind blowing blowjob. 

“holy fuck – you’re good at that.” he breathes out, his free hand threading through your hair, whilst he held the other out of the window with the now forgotten joint.

his praise only spurs you on, bringing out something within you that just made you want to please him, and make him feel good. 

he lets out low groans and breaths as you continue, taking on whatever he told you to do. catering to how he wanted it. 

it had been about ten minutes and you were already doing a lot more, your wrist twisting in rhythm as you harshly sucked him, your tongue occasionally darting out delicately over the tip, the way he told you he liked it.

“mgh, so fuckin’ good.” he groaned,the hand that wasnt in your hair gripping onto his duvet beneath him. the joint now out and resting on the window ledge. 

you shift your position, your ass now up, as you got into a sort of doggy position between his legs. 

“shit, that’s fuckin’ hot.” he breathes out, looking over at your ass in those lacy black panties. the ones that had been consuming his mind the entire night.

you mumble around his dick again which just pushes him further to the edge. his eyes shutting tight as he tries to hold off his orgasm in order to enjoy the feeling of your mouth on him longer. 

“you're gonna make me cum.” he moans, his voice breathy and rough. you feel your stomach bubble at his words, your brain going back to the fact that that other girl hadn't, and here you were, about to push him over the edge despite the fact you'd never given a blowjob before.

you suck harder, if that were possible, motivated to make him come. you wanted to make him feel good, better than any other girl ever had or could.

it consumed your mind like a plague. you hated how much you had begun to care, but right now you were ignoring that. focusing on chris's dick instead.

“oh fuck -” he whines, his hips thrusting up ever so slightly, making you gag. you pull off reluctantly to avoid throwing up as he removes his hand from your hair, your eyes now watering. 

“jesus christ.” he breathes. you finally get a look at him, and he looks hot – completely fucked out. “i'm so close.” he mumbles out shamelessly, his usual casual demeanour completely gone.

“sorry.” you mumble, swiping your thumb across your bottom lip to remove the excess saliva. 

“no no, you're good.” he says, his voice horse and desperate. you take his dick in your hand, jerking him off as you catch your breath for a second. “i can cum like this.” he mumbles, his chest rising and falling ever so slightly as he leans back.

you shake your head. “you can cum in my mouth y’know.” you tell him, not thinking twice about the offer.

his eyes widen a little. it's not like he'd never come down a girl's throat before, but he hadn't expected you to be so willing to do so.

“you sure?” he whispers. you don't respond, simply taking him into your mouth again which causes his mouth to fall open, his head tilting back slightly. 

it only takes a few more minutes before he's rutting his hips upwards ever so slightly, his breaths coming out rugged. 

“gonna cum.” he mumbles, letting you know. you continue the same rhythmic movements, wishing you could see him coming apart right now.

then he lets out a strangled moan as you feel the warm salty liquid spurt into your mouth. you wince your eyes a little at the taste, sucking it out of him until there's no more. then you swallow, pulling off him, immediately looking around the room for some water. 

“holy fuck.” he breathes, falling back on the bed as his limp dick rests on his abdomen. 

you hop off the bed, taking a sip of water from the glass on his bedside table. 

“i don't even know whatta say.” he sighs, brushing his hair off his forehead. you swallow the water as you look over at him laid on the bed. “was it good?” you ask.

he scoffs. “shut the fuck up.” he huffs, eventually tucking his dick back into his boxers before sitting up. he picks the joint off the ledge, lighting it as he takes a toke. 

you crawl back onto the bed, crossing your legs under, holding your fingers out for him to pass the zoot.

“youre somethin’ else - fuckin’ hell.” he says, still in an orgasmic bliss. he hands you the joint before gently grabbing the side of your head to press a soft kiss to your forehead. 

you let out a small chuckle at his touchiness and affection. “i should make you jealous more often.” he murmurs, his cocky attitude returning promptly. 

you roll your eyes before, playfully smacking his arm, giving him a stern look. “why would you do that when you know what i can do?”

he lets out a soft chuckle at your comment, smirking to himself in pride of your skills. “good point.” he agrees, looking you up and down as if he's still trying to process what just happened.

it's like something had switched between the both of you, new territories of vulnerability seeping through. you had done more than you told him you would, and to be truthfully honest, he cared about you more than he'd like to admit. the both of you acting like you were fucking dating.

©sturnsrecord

notes . finally posted the next part, hope everyone from my previous account manages to find this. enjoy xx

tag list . @iizzyyy @sophsturns @strnilolover @sturniolossss

[ariiadnes]

╭ ⿻ ･ 0713

ଓ.° ・ simon riley. call of duty. family fic -- simon and reader have a daughter. may as well make this an unofficial series ～(　TロT)σ every day i am victim to the delusions !!

when you first met simon, you quite honestly did not think you'd end up having such a domestic life with him. you've known each other for a long while, been together for less. you've seen each other go through hell and back, worry for each other's safety and return, and here you are now, with a daughter that is exactly like him.

kind of. mostly, you'd say.

personality? absolutely. quiet, reserved-- her, mostly in the sense that she's shy. him, in the sense that he just doesn't like talking to people very much. but quiet all the same, you suppose.

appearances? oh, one hundred percent. brown eyes, brown hair. sharp gaze. you don't know how a two year old has a sharp gaze, but she does.

little quirks? you suppress a sigh just thinking about it. wherever you are, simon is. he's practically your shadow-- so what's your daughter? his shadow. so basically, in summary : anywhere you go? have no fear, you will never be alone. ever.

oh, forgot something in the bedroom? just turn around and you'll face-plant into your husband's chest, and when you recover, you'll see your daughter peek out from behind his leg to see what all the ruckus is. oh, you're going to do laundry? forget the television, make it a group effort instead. grocery shopping? no need to split up to make it faster. he's mapped out the most efficient route around the store to knock out this trip in less than an hour.

yeah. they're weird. but you love them, so it's okay.

you'd like to think that nothing surprises you at this point, until today -- when you're tending to the house, bright and early, only to see a certain half awake toddler and her dad standing in the living room. you pause for a moment, mildly surprised that she's already up. you don't say anything-- just watching, as they haven't noticed you around the corner of the hallway quite yet.

"papa."

"munchkin."

silence. like, a long silence. your brows furrow, and you can't help but tilt your head in confusion and curiosity as you witness the strange phenomenon that is your family. she closes the distance, looking up at him. and in return, he looks down at her.

and they just stare at each other. in even more silence. for a good few minutes. not a single word exchanged. you're just so confused by this interaction that you're about to speak up, but then she raises her arms, and just like that, he picks her up, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead-- his usual good morning greeting to her, you've come to notice.

you stand there in the hallway, confused as ever, as he walks off to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for her. you have no idea what that was. you blink a few times before shaking your head, joining him in the kitchen to help with the morning prep.

-- so naturally, when night comes, the little one is sleeping, and you're laying in bed next to simon, you can't help but ask:

"what the hell happened this morning?"

he pauses at the sudden question.

"you burned the pancakes, dove."

your eye twitches.

"i did fucking not." you roll your eyes, though you don't put up any resistance as he pulls you closer to him, an arm draped over your waist. "i'm talking about your little stare down today. what was that?"

simon stares blankly at the wall in recollection of the event. a moment or two, then a slow shift in his gaze as he looks at you.

"-- just had a bit of a chat."

"...you both said one word each."

"said it was a bit, didn't i?"

oh, insufferable. weird and insufferable. you give him a deadpan stare, in which he returns full on-- and now you're stuck in a silent staring contest with him. as much as you'd love to try and redeem yourself from the losing streak you've maintained all these years, you understand that one : it is midnight, and you would like to not stay up until three in the morning only to lose, and two : you should be realistic and know that you'll never win.

"stop that." you grumble, hand covering his eyes. "she's gonna pick up on that and start staring into people's souls. it'll freak them out."

he chuckles softly, moves your hand away before lacing his fingers with yours, lips gently trailing down your neck. "not a bad thing. instills fear."

"...i would really like you to not encourage our two year old daughter to instill fear into people, simon riley."

a faint hum of acknowledgement and amusement, then another kiss along your jaw, the corner of your mouth, then your lips. he can't help but notice the feeling of your smile despite your disgruntled words, and he thinks he loves you all the more for it.

"i'll consider it, love."

[felibrary]

"i love you, i'm sorry"

pairing: aventurine x reader (gender neutral)

synopsis: aventurine doesn’t know how to handle people being affectionate to him. so eventually, just as everyone leaves him, he’s become the one who leaves the person he cherishes the most—you—before you’re able to leave him first. so then, why is he now in front of your home, asking for another chance?

wordcount: 1.2k | content & warnings: unestablished relationship, situationship 101, aven has commitment issues (surprise), angst if you squint, hurt/comfort , mentions of aven's past (kind of) ; ficlet

tags: @eccentric-planet HERE IT ISSSS!!! (after waiting for like a week or so oops)

author's note: i wrote like half of this during biology, history and french class LMFAO

in his world, love leaves behind traces. 

be it dejection that gnaws at him, and wraps his heart in sorrow or your lips that press against him, finding home in his scarred skin. all of the little things that shaped him into being—they all track back to you.  

gradually, over time, with every gesture of affection exchanged, he fell. his once sleepless nights were cured by lying beside you, and eventually, he peacefully dozed off. that is until morning arrived, the sun greeting him as her rays seeped through the curtains, which made him rise.

alas, bathing in bliss only lasted for so long. the love that streamed through his veins and was pumped into his heart, was daring to spill; aventurine knew that confessing his love to you would come with its consequences. there were rules he set up for himself, but after all, he is no more than a pathological sinner—an individual long forsaken by the gods that reign this world—a helpless soul.

despite harboring feelings for you, he kept those blooming emotions to himself; confined in the depths of his heart. 

so as much as he loved you, it hurt just as much to let you go; leave you behind with no words that offered an explanation for his leaving. 

aventurine’s foundation was built upon being alone—disappearing without leaving a trace has always been in his nature. having to leave and being left behind was nothing new. he was a natural.

eventually, the traces you left behind, etched into his very being, washed away.

kakavasha was a lonely child. the word company has always felt foreign on his tongue, at least when he had to say it aloud in a language other than his own.

presumably, that’s why he felt strangely weak in your hold. how you always persistently, almost desperately, buried your nails into his skin and held him tight—not wanting to let go as if you knew that he’d leave one day; silently slip from your grasp.

it was to be expected that you wouldn’t reach out anymore—he made you leave. 

(it’s for the better he thinks. after all, if you would’ve marched further into his heart you would’ve seen what was hidden in the depths of it—someone with no strong ambitions, and there’d be no point of return. aventurine wouldn’t make a good lover, he’s both too selfish and selfless no in between.)

there hasn’t ever been a verbal confirmation that the two of you were in a relationship. everyone around him, including you just assumed that the two of you were together

but he can’t blame them. all the spare items in his apartment, ranging from a mere toothbrush to items like skincare or using the same candles as you, that’d help you feel more at home. arriving at work together and subtly flirting in the elevator when others were around or kissing in the copy room, weren’t casual things that friends did.

aventurine thought it was easier that way, simply because the thought of putting labels on your relationship felt strange. to him, it felt like a heavy shackle bound to his feet, preventing him from being free.

so why is he now standing at your front door, waiting like a prisoner on death row for their judgment to come?

there’s a faint squeak as you open the door and aventurine shoves his left hand into the pocket of his coat, fiddling with the flower-shop bill. 

before aventurine knows it; and can fully comprehend the solemnity of the situation, you stand in front of him, as beautiful as ever.

“hi,” aventurine breathes out, and only now does he realize how much he’s missed seeing you. instead of answering your gaze drifts over his figure and his surroundings.

he feels hot under your watchful gaze, his body suddenly heating up, and clothes sickly sticking to his skin. “so? what’s your business?” your eyes land on the bouquet of lilies and gardenias he's gripping tightly,  slightly wrinkling the wrapping paper by doing so. 

countless thoughts are running through his head. may i come in? can we talk? i wanted to apologi—

“i love you, i’m sorry.”

his voice croaks and suddenly he feels small. the gut-wrenching feeling of fear that stirred in his stomach whenever you were around made him vulnerable and submissive. it made him bolder—more reckless with his way of words. they twisted and twirled on his tongue, and ultimately something else slipped out. (the truth)

the dismissive sound you make crawls into aventurine’s ears like a parasite creeping on his skin, causing him pain. “you say that after playing a game of push-and-pull with me? aventurine do you hear yourself?” you huff laughingly. “don’t do this to me. i can’t go through this once again,” you express with bitterness in your voice. “you’ll just hurt the both of us.” your tone is meek, but aventurine can hear the strain in your voice and he feels his stomach drop.

he exhales and musters the courage to say something. “i know that this is sudden, moreover, i know that i’ve been beyond horrible to you,” aventurine admits, and he swallows. “i want to apologize. my first apology is that i never apologized sooner.” he diverts his gaze to the ground, head facing the floor like a prisoner being escorted. 

he’s sure that at this point the stems of the flowers he’s bought for you are already kinked from clutching them so hard in his hand. “so, may i come in? i’ll tell you everything. i promise.” aventurine doesn’t dare to look up, at least not yet.

“calling me, whenever you needed me like i’m a pet who listens to every command, whispering sweet nothings into my ear as if you were coaxing me into believing something that was untruthful from the very beginning, and—” frustratedly, you ball your hands into fists. “listen. everything i told you was honest. yes i wasn’t ready for a relationship but that doesn't mean that i didn’t love you.” aventurine forces himself to look up, but immediately regrets it upon seeing your hurt face.

nevertheless, he continues. “i’m still hung up on the past. the thought of being with someone and promising myself to stay with them and committing my time, my life, and my very being scares me. it doesn’t excuse my behavior and actions, no, but i hope that this helps you understand me better.”

“i'm sorry that i didn't confide you in this any sooner. I was scared that you too would leave me. so i thought that if i’d leave first, it wouldn’t hurt as much. but i was wrong, my heart fucking aches when i’m not with you.” he cringes at how fake this sounds. but he’s more bothered about the fact that his heart isn’t only twinging when not with you, but it also might jump out of his ribcage, right here, right now.

you bite down on your bottom lip and contemplate. it's faint and if aventurine hadn’t paid attention, he’d have missed it. the way you mutter dumbass under your breath.” forget it,” you sigh as if reaching your breaking point. “just come in.”

this time, you fully open the door to him and he feels a wave of relief washing over him. “you’ve always been a mystery to me kakavasha.” you whisper, and aventurine’s lips form into a small smile as he trails and follows behind you, into your home.

a mystery, you say?

aventurine makes a promise to himself as he places the flowers into the glass vase you provided him. this time he’d be completely honest with you. about everything and anything.

so here it is — his heart laid bare.

end note: who am i kidding. if he came back to me pleading id also take him back.

also tagging @azullumi because at this point it'd be weird not to do this. i just want to thank you azul. thank you for being an amazing friend. thinking back, i used to have much worse communication skills. avoiding the ones around me or never voicing my problems aloud. but you giving me advice has genuinely inspired and impacted me so much. simply because i wanted to be so much like you cause i looked up to you so much and i still do. and recently those efforts of trying to better my social skills have paid off (kind of). I've become better and more mindful when it comes to people addressing their problems they have with me and thus trying to reflect and change my behavior. but I'm also able to talk about the things that bother me better now, simply because i took your advice. azul you understand me like no other. you take the words out of my mouth and are able to form such beautiful sentences i could never even think of. honestly your way with words is what enamors me the most about you.

© FELIBRARY 2024. stealing, copying, translating, reposting my works on other platforms or feeding them to ai is not permitted.

[ladylooch]

When We Met - [Nico x Lexi]

Vanilla, Nico thinks to himself. That is the other note to what he is smelling right now. 

Citrus, vanilla, and sweet roses- like the pink ones he got for his mother from the corner market earlier this season. 

For weeks, this same sweet, soft scent has lingered in the elevator on his way to practice. Sometimes it is there in the evening too, but mostly in the morning. Like whoever it belongs to just exited the elevator car before he got into it. Every day, Nico has been trying to pinpoint the notes of the perfume. He was pretty sure there was citrus and something floral. It took him days to nail down the rose connection. But the final note of sweetness wasn’t making sense to him.

Now he knows.

He stuffs his hands into his pockets, looking down at the elevator floor. Unexpectedly, a sadness drifts through his mind. He knows the scents, but not the girl they belong to. 

It doesn’t make much sense, but Nico wants to know her. She has excellent taste in perfume. What else does she have excellent taste in? He would like to know. He finds himself wondering about it at practice too. Once it happened during a game. Nico plays at too high of a level to be that distracted by perfume. Plus, this is a huge building and the chances of bumping into her are low. 

The elevator hits the bottom floor. Nico hooks a left towards the mail room, opening the door with his fob. He takes in the room of gray mailboxes, seeing he is alone. He walks over to his, sliding the key in and turning it open. He cringes when he sees the amount of mail stuffed inside. The box is almost full. Understandable considering that he can’t remember the last time he came down this way. Getting mail is a mundane task for Nico. Sure he walks by the mailroom every day when he gets home, but those extra few steps feel like too much effort after a grueling game or an OT loss. 

Carefully, he slides his hands on the top and bottom of the mailbox. He glides the big stack of paper out of his box, then curses when the package box key falls to the floor between his Nikes. Nico gets the papers the rest of the way out, tucking them against his chest before he crouches down to grab the key. 

As he does, the door swings open and quick foot steps speak inside. Nico keeps his gaze down, not wanting to take the chance of recognition. His fingers grasp the key in his hand and he slides it into the package box. He twists the lock open, grabbing a package out. It’s a sponsorship box he knew to expect. He shuts the door to the box then stiffens as he smells that same perfume from the elevator.

He shoots up like a bolt of lightning.

“It’s you!”

“OH MY GOD!” The brunette yells, tossing her mail into the air. “I didn’t know anyone was in here!” 

“Oh, I-I’m so sorry.” Nico mumbles. He tosses his mail onto the table in the center of the room, then rushes over to help her pick hers up.

Crouched down on the ground, Nico catches the gaze of the most stunning green eyes he has ever seen. They’re framed with long, curled eyelashes and a soft purple eye shadow that makes them pop. Her face is filled out with a full pink mouth and rounded cheeks that dust pink from their interaction. Long, brunette hair falls over her shoulder where it is held in a high pony tail. Holy smokes, his perfume queen is gorgeous.

“Do I know you?” She murmurs as they stand back up. Nico hands her mail in his hands over, but not before sneaking a peak at her name: Alexis.

His perfume queen, Alexis.

“Uh… I don’t think so.” Nico shakes his head.

“So what did you mean when you said 'it’s you'?”

“Oh! Um…” Nico pauses. How is he gonna say this and sound normal. “I recognize you from your perfume.”

Her thin eyebrows furrow together. 

Shit, that wasn’t it.

“I smell it every day.” He tries agin. She looks to the side, taking a slight step away from him.

Also not it.

“Okay.” She nods, looking down at her mail. She flips it over so the address is facing down. 

“What brand is it?” He asks, shoving his hands into his pockets so he looks less intimidating. An amused smile pulls up one corner of her mouth. Then she sucks her cheeks in, looking down at her shoes. She is wearing black and white Nikes too, but more athletic, paired with light blue scrubs. A name badge is clipped to her pants that says Lexi, not Alexis. 

“It’s YSL, flowers and flames.” She finally responds, hiking her bag over her shoulder.

“Nice. Maybe I can spray some on my pillow.” He tries to joke.

It doesn’t land.

He mutters a Swiss explicative under his breath as she purses her lips together. Her green eyes widen and she inhales a deep breath.

“Sephora has a sale right now.” She offers up. Red streaks into Nico’s pale cheeks. He turns, clearing his throat and heading back to his pile of mail.

“Good to know. Sorry about your mail.”

“Thanks for helping me…?” She murmurs back to him, ending with a question like she isn’t sure what to call him.

“Nico.”

“Thank you, Nico.”

“Least I could do.” He says as he gathers his mail back into his arms.

“I’m Lexi.” She tells him as she holds the mail room door open for him. He shuffles out with his arms loaded down. “Are you going up?” She motions to the elevator.

“Ah, no. Well, yes.” He closes his eyes at his stammering. Damn, is today his first day speaking English? “I am going up, but I’m going to take the stairs. Didn’t get my steps in yet.”

She pauses, like she might say something, then nods.

“Have a good day. Nice meeting you.”

“You too.” He shouts after her before dipping into the stairwell. He looks up at all the flights of stairs he has to climb, then gets to it before he can talk himself into getting back in the elevator with Lexi. As much as he wants to, he thinks he’s freaked her out enough today. 

By the time Nico gets to his floor, he is huffing and puffing. He may be in peak condition right now for hockey, but skating is no match for the strength it takes to climbs that many stairs. Sweat spills from his hairline, beading down his neck and shoulders to collect at the small of his back in a puddle. He struggles to pull the keys to his place out, dropping mail with each movement. He gets the door open, collecting the envelopes then letting the door slam behind him after he gets into his place.

“Fuck me.” He mutters, going directly to the table to drop it all off. 

A quiet knock hits his front door. Nico looks towards it with narrowed eyes then stalks over to the door, annoyed by everything that has occurred in the last ten minutes. He flings the door open, expecting to see one of his teammates who also lives in the building.

Instead it’s Lexi. 

Nico softens his face, seeing her holding an envelope addressed to him in front of her coy face.

“You dropped this.”

“Oh. Thanks.” He smiles sheepishly, grabbing the envelope from her hand. “I swear I’m not normally that weird. I’m very normal.” A smile stretches her perfect, pink lips apart. Lips that Nico wants to feel brushing against his, that perfume he is obsessed with melting into his skin from her body heat meeting his. 

What is wrong with him? He just told her he is normal and now he’s picturing her kissing him and grinding into his-

“Good to know this is what my perfume turns you into… bye Nico.”

Nico’s heart flutters in his chest. Did she just… flirt with him? His brown eyes raise over her head for a second, then come back to her face.

“See you around?”

“Yeah.”

“Say hi when you do.” She offers as she walks backwards.

Nico’s lips part in surprise and awe, unable to move his mouth to speak anything else to her. 

An easy wave is lifted over to him as she heads back into the elevator. 

The strangest giggle comes out of Nico’s mouth as he walks back into his apartment. He catches his reflection in the windows across the room. He looks like all seven of the dwarves wrapped up into one person. 

He may have just met her, but Nico Hischier is hooked on more than just Lexi’s perfume.

Read more Nico and Lexi here.

[skepticalarrie]

hey! i've always believed in early Larry but recently have fallen down a rabbit hole about babygate and am convinced. i'm just stuck on a few points and was wondering if there are any theories.

1) what happened on the day of the 'birth'? if he is brett's child born from surrogacy, how did they get briana's name on the birth certificate and either get the baby into the hospital without alerting staff there that briana was not pregnant OR have had a non-pregnant briana stay in hospital for days. what are the theories on how they orchestrated the hospital stay logistically? surely it would've been easier to claim she wanted a home birth. also not sure if they rented a room in the hospital and just kind of camped out there?

2) is there any evidence of Louis being a present father to Freddie? the main reason i started to question the media narrative was that it seems like Louis rarely sees him and in AOTV it almost seemed awkward, like the child didn't really know him. adjacent to that, is there any evidence that Eleanor, who was supposedly with him for FIVE years post-babygate, ever met his son? after all the fuss about danielle vs briana and danielle mentioning her by name in interviews, not even a fluff article about step mum life and loving him? it seems like they forgot to account for parts of the narrative - on the surface, it seems fine but it falls apart on inspection.

thanks from a reborn larry :)

Aww, a reborn Larrie, how cute! Hahah welcome back!

1- I have two tags you might want to check out to see if they answer your questions: BIRTH CERTIFICATE and SURROGATE. But to sum it up, I don’t think it's as complicated as it seems. We don’t actually know what’s on the official birth certificate, no one does. What we saw was a copy of it, and it had a lot of inconsistencies. Personally, my guess is that the birth certificate was never even filed at the state level, and the names of the legal parents (Brett and Tammi) are likely on it. If Louis and Briana’s names are there officially, it would follow the typical process for surrogacy pregnancies, and I fully believe Freddie is unrelated to the surrogate. So the intended parents would be listed on the birth certificate regardless, so there were no special logistics involved at the hospital or anything like that.

2- Louis’ involvement in Freddie’s life started around 2021, and that's undeniable, even if you believe he's Freddie’s biological father. It’s interesting how some people claim we can’t know whether Louis was present for Freddie or how often they saw each other, but then they use it as proof when they are together later on. There’s definitely been a noticeable shift in Louis’ behaviour... he completely ignored Freddie’s existence for years. He never spoke about him. And then, all of a sudden, they're all over the place together, and Louis can't stop mentioning him. So, there’s at least something odd about it. As for Eleanor, the only time we saw them in the same place was at Louis’ LA show, which was being recorded for AOV. They were kind of in the same booth but on different sides, so there was some overlap, but that’s the closest interaction we’ve seen. Babygate became more consistent after Louis and Eleanor broke up and before they got back together in 2017. During all their time together, there was no babygate, basically!

[inkedbydesire]

Jealous (18+)

Jey Uso x Black Fem Reader

Warning: 18+ Content, SMUT, MINORS DO NOT ENTER

Summary: Everybody does it right? But no one ever wants to talk about it. And you damn sure don’t want to be caught doing it. Your boyfriend Joshua Fatu (aka Jey Uso) was supposed to be out of town (like always). His schedule as a Pro Wrestler kept him constantly traveling away from you. You two spent more time away from each other than you did together. But you never complained because to you, he was worth it. But you still had certain ........... needs. Most of the time you fought those needs until you were near him again but on a few other occasions, you allowed yourself to be consumed by them. And tonight was one of those nights. But what happens when Joshua comes home a day earlier than expected and finds you in your bed enjoying yourself...... without him.

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: I felt like showing Jey a little love. I apologize in advance for any grammar errors or typos.

*************************************************

"I'm a liar sweetie. I cheat on niggas too. (I DO). You probably shouldn't trust me or I'll hurt your feelings boo. I don't wanna be here but my ex won't take me back so my broken ass is here small talking over apps."  

You let out an audible laugh even though you'd already seen this scene over 100 times. But no matter how many times you've binged Insecure due to it being one of your comfort shows, Issa's antics never failed to put a smile on your face. You shook your head at her nonsense before averting your eyes to your phone. You picked it up in hopes to have received a message from your boyfriend whom you messaged over 30 minutes ago telling him how much you missed him. But sadly as you looked down at your screen, there was nothing. It was currently 1:05 am so you figured he was most likely sleeping in his hotel room after a long day of press and performing in his wrestling event.

This was a weekly occurrence for you guys so this routine was familiar. But being familiar with something doesn't make it any easier. You still missed him terribly when he was on the road. When you met Joshua over 6 months ago, he was very upfront about his lifestyle before things got serious. His career kept him constantly traveling to different cities almost weekly so it was hard for him to lay down a lasting foundation. This had been a problem for him in previous relationships. He told you that he didn't want to end up hurting anyone else or himself so he had sworn off relationships for a while. You two were only supposed to have had a situationship type of thing. It was just supposed to have been two people enjoying each other's company.

But real feelings always have a way of showing up uninvited. Before you knew it you two had fallen for each other. It took you by surprise the most because you never expected to fall so deeply for a man you met in a Waffle House on a drunken night out with your girls. After a long honest talk, you and Joshua decided to try at a relationship even with all of the obstacles you both knew would be in front of you.

But truthfully, the only real obstacle was time. That was something you were already privy to before going in so you never complained. But that didn't stop you from missing the hell out of him anytime he was away. The longing grew more intense when the sun was down and tonight was no different. You were laying here wide awake rewatching Insecure with nothing but Joshua Fatu on your mind. You craved him tonight in a way that was hard to ignore.

And boy did you try.

Maybe it was because you were ovulating due to your pending time of the month. Or maybe it was just because you loved him. But whatever it was it was unbearable.

Joshua would be back in town tomorrow and would be more than willing to satisfy your needs. You knew that. But tonight...... you just couldn't wait that long. Pushing aside your comforter you got out of bed and walked over to your dresser. You opened the drawer that contained your underwear and rummaged through it for a few seconds. It didn't take long for your fingers to wrap around what you were seeking. With your rose in your hand, you retreated to your bed and quickly climbed in.

God, please close your eyes you thought to yourself before reaching over to your nightstand and grabbing your MacBook. You needed a little help getting in the mood and you knew just what would do it.

You clicked around on your laptop before reaching the private folder you were looking for. You hit play on the file then placed your laptop beside you as you slid down onto your back.

"Why are we recording this"  You heard your own voice coming from your laptop followed by the sound of you giggling.

"For fun ... for memories" Joshua's voice answered back.

Now, you weren't crazy enough to let any man get you on camera. That was one of your golden rules. But you did however mutually agree with Joshua to audio record a few of your steamy sessions. You thought it was harmless fun and now you were grateful you had them saved for moments like this since you weren't that into watching porn. You’d rather close your eyes and listen to one of your and Joshua's audios and mentally travel back to that moment.

As you heard the sound of you and Joshua kissing you pulled the oversized shirt, that oddly enough belonged to him, up and slid out of your panties. You kicked them the rest of the way off with your feet as you got more comfortable.

"I been waiting to taste you all damn day baby girl" you heard Joshua's voice say followed by the sound of him lapping up your juices. Your body shuddered at the memory of his talented tongue as you felt an urgent throb build between your inner thighs. You clicked on your rose while you pulled your legs apart. As you reached down to please yourself, for a fleeting moment you wished that Joshua was there.

But unbeknownst to you, he was only a few minutes from your apartment. In a rare turn of events, he was able to travel home a day earlier from his wrestling event than he had in mind. When he arrived back in the city nearly an hour ago, he dropped by his apartment, freshened up, and got right back on the road headed your way. He missed you fiercely and knew you had to be feeling the same way.

He wanted to call and tell you all about it but he thought surprising you with his sudden presence would be better since he rarely got the chance to do so. It pained him to ignore your message about missing him a little while ago but he didn't want to spoil the surprise. But he had a few ways in mind on how he would make it up to you.

Pulling into your apartment complex he quickly found his regular parking spot. He turned his engine off and then grabbed the duffle bag that contained a few day's worth of clothes knowing he would be staying with you for the next couple of days. He damn near jogged up to your apartment powered by his readiness to see you. When he got outside your door he put the code into the lockbox that contained your spare key. He used it to unlock your front door and then returned it to where he found it. He put his hand on your doorknob and quietly eased into your apartment locking the door behind him. He figured you might be asleep right now and only planned on waking you after he slid into your bed and wrapped you in his arms.

He dropped his duffel bag near your sofa and lightly walked towards your bedroom. As he neared your door he heard something that immediately made him stop in his tracks. He leaned his ear towards your slightly cracked door thinking that he was hearing things.

He listened for a few seconds.

No, he wasn't tripping. Those definitely were the sounds of your moans. He knew that like the lyrics of his favorite song.

Beyond curious he cautiously pushed your door open just a little further. Clearly, you were preoccupied and he didn't think you would notice and you didn't. He was able to gain a full view of your bed and what you were doing on it. You were so wrapped up in chasing your climax that the figure looking at you through the slit in your door went unseen. Through the glow of your tv and laptop, he watched your chest heave up and down and your legs shake as you pressed the rose he didn't even know you owned against your clit.

Joshua traveled so much that he figured you had to do something to hold yourself over until he got back but he never thought he'd be witnessing it. He listened to your moans as he watched your body jerk and twitch in a way he thought only he was capable of doing.

Despite the growing bulge in his pants that he had to reach down to adjust, he found that the sight filled him with unwarranted jealousy. Here he was rushing to get back to you and you didn't seem to be missing him at all. In fact, it looked like he was the last thing on your mind. He knew that it was selfish of him to expect you to wait for him to fulfill your sexual needs but part of him wished you did. If anyone or anything was going to make you shake and moan like that he only wanted it to be him. He felt like it was his job and right now you were giving it away.

As he kept his eyes on you he fought extremely hard against the urge to burst into your room to ruin your moment. He knew that you might be agitated or even mad but he would make it up to you by making you cum countless times like he was known to do. And that would set everything straight.

He hesitated for a long while but ultimately with reluctance decided against it.

Taking a step away from your door he waited until he heard the high-pitched moan of you cumming before he walked back towards your front door. Unlocking it again he grabbed the doorknob opening and closing it louder to get your attention. He had plans to bring up what he saw but not just yet. 

Your eyes jolted open from your state of bliss at the sound. Still feeling the effects of your climax you sat up as quick as you could manage and reached over and clicked on the lamp beside your nightstand.

"IT'S ME." you surprisingly heard your boyfriend Joshua's voice yell. You were relieved because, for a split second there, you thought it was an intruder. Joshua was not supposed to be showing up to your apartment tonight.

The distance between your front door and bedroom wasn't that far so you had no time to find and put your panties back on. They were somewhere tangled in your comforter and sheets. But you did have time to slide your rose underneath your pillow, throw your comforter across your lap, and close your laptop before Joshua neared your door.

"Hey baby........ how are you here?" you asked him as he entered your room. You knew that he had one more night away from you so you were a little confused. But maybe there was a change in plans that you didn't know anything about.

But the hows became irrelevant as your heart swelled at the sight of the man you loved.

You wanted so badly to jump into his arms but your legs were still weak from what you were doing no longer than 5 minutes ago. You didn't want to risk wobbling or falling. That would definitely tip off to Joshua that you were in here up to no good. And you didn't want him to know that you were just in here masturbating. It seemed immature but you would be so ashamed if he found out.

You thanked God that he didn't show up to your apartment just a few minutes earlier or he would've caught you right in the middle of the act.

You pushed those thoughts aside as you watched him step out of the Nike slides he had on before walking over to your bed and standing there.

"You not happy to see me?" He asked you. The way it came out sounded like he had a little bit of an attitude. You were clueless on why he would have one with you so you ignored it and chalked it up to you over analyzing the situation because of what he almost caught you doing. And you knew he was most likely questioning your happiness to see him because you didn't dive into his arms like usual. On any other day, you would've been out of your bed meeting him in the living room.

"I'm always happy to see you, Josh." You answered him with a reassuring smile. You couldn't physically show him right now so you had to choose the right words.

"Umm .....  what you doing up this late though?" He asked you.

"Couldn't sleep." You responded.

"So what you been doing to pass the time?" He asked squinting his eyes at you a little.

"I've been watching Insecure.....  like always" You answered him jokingly as you pointed towards your TV where Issa's crazy life was still playing out on your screen.

"That's all?" Joshua asked while raising his brows at you.

As your eyes remained locked on his you weirdly started to feel like you were under interrogation. You searched your brain but couldn't figure out what for. But it definitely seemed like Joshua was trying to get something out of you.

What though?

The only other thing you were doing before he showed up felt too personal and embarrassing to say out loud so you had no plans on disclosing it to him.

"Yep.... that's pretty much all," you replied to him lying while you shrugged your shoulders. Joshua stared at you for a moment longer before walking over to the side of the bed that you were on.

"That's funny 'cause that's not what I saw." He stated as he sat down near you.  His words caused your heart to sink to the pit of your stomach but you had to keep your composure.

"And what did you see?" you asked him already feeling like you knew the answer but needing the confirmation before you started freaking out. Without immediately responding Joshua just looked into your eyes with a smirk and it all started making sense. You felt like you were being interrogated earlier because you were. Joshua already knew the answer to everything he was asking you because he already knew what you had been up to.

You wondered how in the hell did he know though ....

After a few seconds of shuffling things around in your brain, you put two and two together and figured Joshua must've come into your apartment a whole lot earlier than he made known. You were so consumed with pleasuring yourself that your apartment could've been on fire and you wouldn't have moved a muscle. So you damn sure didn't hear him entering your apartment or coming near your door. You noted to yourself that you needed to be more attentive the next time or at least tackle the basics like closing and locking your damn bedroom door. But you weren't expecting Joshua tonight so you didn't think you needed to be that cautious.

"I didn't even know you had one of those things," Joshua said bringing you out of your thoughts as he reached beside you and started running his hand over your comforter. When he didn't find what he was looking for there he then moved towards your pillows.

"Okay." you quickly said while grabbing his hand before it made contact with your rose. It clicked in your mind that that's what he was feeling around for.

"If you already knew what I was doing .... why you come in here like Inspector Gadget?" you asked him.

The thought of him seeing you in that intimate moment was sending waves of crippling embarrassment through you. Joshua was your boyfriend and had seen you in way more compromising positions but this whole ordeal was still awkward as hell to you. Discovering that something you thought you were doing in private wasn’t as hidden as you thought is a deeply embarrassing feeling.

But you still wanted to be mature about everything.

"I just wanted to see what you would say. No wonder you in here acting like you didn't miss me. You got me replaced." he said.

You searched his face for more amusement because he was clearly getting a kick out of all of this but to your surprise, he actually looked rather serious.

"Wait ... you accusing me of replacing you with an object?" You asked him after you two silently stared at each other for a few minutes. This realization overshadowed any embarrassment you felt about the situation. Now you understood why he seemed to have had an attitude with you when he first entered your room. He saw you with your rose and got jealous. It was taking everything in you not to laugh in his face.

"It's okay for you to enjoy yourself when I'm not here. I understand it. But I'm just saying you were enjoying yourself a little too much." He stated still serious as a heart attack which made it a lot harder to contain your laughter.

"Josh you're not being replaced." You chuckled as you placed your hand on his shoulder to reassure him not believing you actually had to do so. You couldn't believe that this was a conversation you two were actually having.

"I only pull it out when I miss you and I can't stand it anymore," you told him.

"I don't think you understand how badly I want you when you're not here Josh" you added with honesty as your eyes locked on each other's. Yeah, there were certain things you could do to try to pacify your desire for Joshua but nothing compared. So for him to feel a way about an object was bonkers to you. But at the same time, you found it kind of cute.

"I'm here now." Joshua responded to you.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" you asked him playfully as the atmosphere in the room shifted.

"Let me show you," he stated as he reached down grabbed your leg, and pulled you closer to him on the bed.

"My bad for coming in here tripping but it was because I missed you, baby girl." He admitted before leaning over and placing a small kiss on your forehead. You smiled at him as he moved down and pecked your nose before moving to your mouth. You two then fell into a kiss that had the passion of two people who hadn't seen each other in years rather than a few days. You relished in the moment knowing you had to make the most of any time you got with him. That was the basics of your relationship. Every single moment counted because he would be on the road again in the blink of an eye.

As Joshua's hands roamed all over your body he tilted his head down and planted soft kisses on your neck. As he tossed your comforter aside he moved back up to slip his tongue into your mouth.

A couple of intoxicating minutes later, Joshua broke the kiss by standing up leaving you needing way more from him. He then posted up on the side of your bed and you giggled as he reached down and pulled you by your ankle to position you in front of him. You then had the pleasure of watching him as he pulled off his hoodie and shirt all in one swift motion. As you took in how absolutely fine he was your inner thighs throbbed needily. Sometimes all it took was just looking at him to leave you soaking.

"Lay back for me Y/N." He requested and you eagerly did as you were told without any hesitation. You scooted up on your bed and laid back in front of him as he positioned himself between your legs. Staring down at you while running his tongue across his lips, he placed one of his hands on your thigh. He slowly trailed his hand up glazing your clit with his thumb which made your legs involuntarily jolt because you were still sensitive from what you were doing earlier. He ran his thumb up and down your clit teasing you for what felt like ages. It made your wetness grow but it also frustrated you. Then he left you feeling desperate and depraved again as he took his attention off of you for a split second to rid himself of his pants and boxers.

He held his dick in one of his hands while he pushed your legs further apart with the other as he repositioned himself. You sucked in a sharp breath as he ran the tip of his dick up and down your entrance coating it in your wetness. Again, he did that for what felt like ages while you laid there desperately needing more.

"Josh" you breathed out his name as he lifted his dick and tapped it down on your swollen clit.

"Please" you urged him as he repeated the same motion with more pressure making you squirm and reach down to grab hold of his wrist.

"Please what?" He asked you while flicking his eyes up to yours. You knew that he knew full well what you wanted but he loved to play this game. He loved to get you a position where you were practically begging for his dick before he gave it to you. And each time you would feed into his ego.

"Fuck me, Josh .... please" you begged with a pout giving him what you knew he was seeking. He smiled down at you and before you could say another word or prepare your self he suddenly gripped you by your hip and sank his full length into you. But you soon found out that Joshua wasn't done with playing with you yet as he pulled out of you and went back to teasing and tapping your clit with the tip of his dick. You laid there beyond frustrated but felt satisfied when he slipped into your wetness again.

"Fuck" you muttered lowly as he eased in and out of you slowly making your body shudder with every stroke.

"Feels good baby?" He asked you as he kept that same deliberate speed while his dick continuously glazed against your g-spot. You nodded at him as you gently bit down on your bottom lip.

"Say it," he told you as he slipped in and out of your wetness.

"It f-feels good Josh. It feels so fucking good." You expressed to him as you felt pleasure filled knots building in the pit of your stomach. Closing your eyes you focused on trying to hold off climaxing as you grew wetter for Joshua as his speed quickened. Your eyes only flew open again when you heard the familiar buzzing of your rose. You looked up at Joshua wondering when and how he managed to reach over and locate it without your knowledge. But you were so drunk on feeling him inside of you that your mind was completely preoccupied.

"W-what are you doing?" you were barely able to ask him as he didn't miss a beat fucking you. His still plunged in and out of your entrance as he held your rose in the hand he wasn't using to hold your legs apart.

"I wanna try something." He responded.

"Try wh-" you began to ask but were completely cut off by Joshua bringing your rose down onto your clit. Now you could handle your rose on its own but combined with Joshua's dick rocking in and out of you, you almost started seeing stars at the sensation.

"J-Josh ... wait ....oooh fuck ..." you moaned out as you reached down and attempted to push his hand away not being able to handle the pleasure. Your attempt failed miserably as Joshua didn't budge. He continued to pound in and out of you as he used your rose on your clit.

"I c-can't J-Josh" you whined out to him as your toes curled and your legs violently shook. You felt tears welling up as your breathing became shallow and your heartbeat accelerated.

"Yes you can ... you got it baby"  Joshua encouraged you as he pounded deeper and deeper into your wetness. You tried to take it but the feeling was too powerful for you to comprehend causing your climax to hit you like a tidal wave out of nowhere. All kinds of profanities left your mouth as it felt like you were having an out of body experience.

Joshua was satisfied as he watched you lose yourself as you squirted cum all over his dick. That's when he knew he could use your rose to his advantage. 

[zealouswitchwerewolf]

Head canon that all the bats are actually pretty decent cooks but only under very specific circumstances.

Bruce: if Alfred is anywhere near, he'll burn water. He can however cook for 15+ people, if he tries for any less he ends up overusing salt/sugar/spices and the food ends up inedible. Whenever Alfred has the day off, he secretly cooks for his kids while pretending he's just reheating Alfred's dishes. Curiously, they all usually find excuses to show up at the manor when Alfred isn't there, even Jason.

Dick: will not cook for himself even if he has to eat raw pasta. However, if one of his siblings is coming over or they ask for a snack he can make mostly healthy food with the most random ingredients that no one else would have put together. It's usually pretty good.

Jason: can't cook with people in his kitchen. He needs space. The exception is Alfred. Tim has taken to hiding in random places in the kitchen to see how long he can stay without Jason kicking him out. His best spot is top of the fridge, almost beaten by the time he hid inside a floating cabinet and it ended up caving to his weight and dropping him on top of the sauce Jason was making (luckily not yet on the stove).

Tim: only cooks when the recipe has precise measurements of each ingredient (mg/ml instead of cups/tbsp). Proceeds to completely ignore his recipe and ends up with a completely different thing, usually opposite of what he was making, still tastes like he had used the recipe for the final thing.

Cass: cooks based on vibes only so most of the time she's the only one who can eat her concoction, mostly using ingredients that require her to dance and contort around the kitchen at the beat of whatever music she's listening to or just whatever. That being said, her food improves drastically if someone's in the kitchen with her, out of her way but watching, cause then she bases her measurements and ingredients in body language and her proportions end up being incredibly accurate.

Steph: can make anything that requires batter and make it be the best thing you've ever tasted. So waffles, crepes, pancakes, some cookies, cake, etc. Anything other than that will end up on fire. Funnily enough, she can also make incredible fillings that have an uncanny resemblance to some of her previous ashen attempts.

Duke: can cook in the dark without making a mess. He's also a pretty decent cook in general but he somehow leaves piles of dirty pans/dishes whenever he's seen cooking, no matter how simple his dish is.

Damian: can only cook with the recipe or someone (Dick specifically but sometimes Alfred) guiding him. His favorite food is the one traditional from the league, specifically the recipes Talia gave him when he went to Gotham. He wants them to be exactly as his mother intended so he won't deviate from the recipe in the slightest. It's special to him. Just as it's special to cook with Richard and getting to learn his favorite foods from before Bruce took him in. He might or might not either write the recipe after each time he cooks with Richard and ask clarifying questions like "what do you mean measure with your heart? How many tablespoons is that? No, I didn't see, you covered my eyes and told me to 'trust the process'"

Bonus: Alfred has the skill of spoiling the food of people he deeply dislikes while making the rest of it completely perfect for everyone else. Even if it's all cooking in the same pot. He's gotten so good at it he doesn't even do it consciously anymore and forgets he's doing it. It still gets the point across though. Interestingly enough, each of the bats partners have gotten shitty food from Alfred at least once (either shovel talk style or because they did something mean to their respective bat or wtv), they can't even say anything cause all the bats will just look at them like they're being crazy because Alfred could never while Alfred smirks at them from the opposite side of the room.

[bigdvmnhero]

relationships: dick & tim

word count: 6,019

summary:

“I—” Tim recalibrated. Desperately, he scanned Dick’s face—his features blurred over, a wall of nothing; Tim chipped away: “You were a kid, who’ll blame a kid? They won’t hurt anyone again. If you want to, to, to talk to anyone—but it was a long time ago, you’re Nightwing now—”

Tuesday morning: a video was uploaded to one of the deep web black markets. The footage, shot on those grainy vintage camcorders. But Tim knew that boy in the thumbnail; his eyes had memorized him, the heft and shape and dazzle of him, imprinting like an afterimage.

Or: a brother is a witness; there's your tragedy.

::

The apartment had that new-in-town smell: mothballs and desperation. Boxes upon boxes were strewn on the floor. One of them had a dirty plate forgotten on top of it. Old pad thai grease. Armed to the teeth in his full Robin regalia, Tim felt vaguely underdressed in Dick’s kitchen—like there was a speech to do, and he was already forgetting the words.

“Did I lose you again?” Dick said, through a mouthful of his second demolished mango. He was eating them fatherless-style. Dick had been talking about—insurance, maybe. “What’s up?”

Across him, Tim straightened. “Nothing, just.” Mortified, thinking about how I almost spritzed myself with cologne before coming here. What was this, prom? Tim just needed this to go better than last time, was all.

Last time: Tim’s absolute trashfire of a Bludhaven visit; Dick’s rictus of a smile; Dick’s face going bloodless in the half-dark as Tim mentioned Bruce’s adoption offer, absolute god-tier cringe; why’d he do that? It was the same look Dick wore, that first time Tim brandished the original Robin suit from its glass case. Of course Dick disappeared then, all dark and brooding into the night, seeyanara, or never; Tim never could stomach a Never.

He wanted to tell Dick he was working hard to learn it, too—the Bat’s art of Sheer Presence. The way its silhouette inspired awe, stillness. That lately Dick spooked easy, like an animal trying not to be seen. That on nights Tim was almost catatonic with grief, his first half-formed thought was, I want my brother.

Tim said, “It’s not every day you eat scrambled mangoes in Richard Grayson’s apartment.”

“Ever since I saw one of our knife-throwers eat it like this, I always wanted to try it.” Dick picked up a comically large knife and bisected the mango, carving the hairy seed out, before scraping its insides silly. He handed one of the halves to Tim, anointing it with a too-big spoon. Where was this man’s cutlery? “It’s supposed to look like a bowl, then you can walk around eating like that. Neat, huh?”

“Guess so.” Tim accepted Dick’s mango concoction with a smile. Maybe a spoonful, to be polite. Watch and weep, Alfred. “You know, I always wanted to try eating a mango like an apple.”

“Well, we got two left,” Dick snorted, digging into the plastic bag. “Make your dreams come true?”

Do, please. Truth was, Tim daydreamed of it often—no capes, no mission, the solace of a brother only a nightmare-city away, and his quiet balcony. If Tim was lucky, a heart-to-heart. Namely, about the No Good, Very Bad Year he was having.

Same one he was sure Dick was going through now, if only Dick deigned to tell him anything.

“Let’s try it together,” Tim said, conspiratory. “Skin and everything. Sprinkle some seasoning. Alfred would call it… positively diabolical.”

“Oh, I’d move heaven and earth to see that look on that man’s face again.” Dick tipped the mango-bowl into his mouth, then licked his lips with sticky satisfaction. “God. This stuff is top-shelf. Which sunny, tropical island did you pick them from, Tim—the Philippines?”

“Just a freebie. From a grateful citizen.”

Wow, and he was starting to lie to Dick the way he lied to Bruce: with alarmingly little remorse!

The truth: Tim had seen the streetcam footage. Dick Grayson liked to linger longer than normal by that market stall on Hammerstone; stuff was always overpriced, but he stayed for the small talk, exchanging recipes and turning over spotted fruit, face soft with a small secret joy until some goon on busted tires screeched by, or the disembodied voice in his comm summoned him back into the fold—exit Richard Grayson, bereft of mangoes.

“A freebie, huh?” Dick said.

Tim shrugged. “Stopped a mugging on my way here.”

“‘Course you did.”

Tim looked up to see a secret smile on Dick’s face, the dimple deepening. Tim ducked his head—it was always intense when Dick did that, holding your eyes to wait for his words to land. When Dick pushed himself away from the table, Tim was glad to look without being seen.

The scrape on Dick’s elbow matched Batman’s data: Nightwing smashed himself free from a plexiglass wall when it came down on him; there was that wispy patch of petrified-looking hair near his left ear where the flames nearly singed his scalp off. Take a few drunk accidental teenage arsons, a rice cooker, and a wall outlet that hadn’t been maintained since the 80s, and you get a nice, toasty residential building that collapsed in forty minutes. With their training, Nightwing should’ve been in and out in five, tops.

Dick coughed as he groped inside the cupboard. Lung irritation, Tim noted. Possible airway inflammation. Shoddy haircut. Dick must’ve tried to trim the charred split ends. If Tim was there. If Tim had covered his blind spot. If Tim was someone Dick could count on from time to time, maybe.

Maybe.

If, if, if.

“Sorry, haven’t stocked the fridge yet,” Dick said. “Water fine?”

“Yep,” Tim says, popping the P, and looked at the carpet the moment Dick’s stagelight-eyes turned his way. His gaze had scanned Tim with that same cataloging sweep earlier. If Dick noticed the weight of Tim’s Mission, paling him like some kind of sepsis, he said nothing. Tim knew what Dick was trying to do. This polite distance, not quite cold, not quite warm, was a dead sea any man could drown in. Bruce currently was. Dick intended to leave Tim here too, in the rolling distance, where no eyes could follow. Fat fucking chance.

Watch me on the trapeze, Tim, said Dick from the memory; staring from a boy’s impish face; those torch-bright eyes, holding his frightened ones. I’m going to do my act—’specially for you. And Tim had watched. And Tim had never stopped, how could he ever stop?

“So, this friendly visit…” Dick slid him a chipped mug of water. “B asked you to check in, or is this gonna be a regular thing from now?”

“Naw, I was just,” Tim waved vaguely. “around.”

“And you got free mangoes.”

Tim sipped. “Thought I’d share my spoils of war.”

The cold hard truth: Tim needed a reason to see his brother now. A work reason. No one wasted Nightwing’s time. While dodging stilted dinners at the manor and Bruce’s guilt-marred face, Tim had spent the better part of his days turning the adoption offer in his head, plugging a fake uncle into his stage-life, not calling Dick, and tracking transactions in the deep web black markets. He had a lead to a CP ring tied to Gotham’s cluster of orphanages—just more children slipping through Her fingers, with no one to come looking. But Tim was looking now. Ten years too late, maybe, but looking all the same.

Bless Barbara and her detailed surveillance notes. He’d set up the alert as instructed and lost himself in the Styx waters of rote work, wading deep, the world submerged into the dull clack of fingers on a keyboard.

Tuesday morning, a new video was uploaded—the price tag: half a million in crypto.

The preview was fifteen seconds long. The footage, cast in near-darkness, had grain matching those recorded on a point-and-shoot that hadn’t been in the market for at least eight years. JVC VHS-C Camcorder, that was how old it was. But Tim knew that figure in the thumbnail. Canary-yellow cape, bloodied knees and pixie boots. A costume for someone ten apples tall.

Only one Robin was fighting against the affliction that was Gotham in single digits. And Tim would know him; his eyes had memorized him, the heft and shape and dazzle of him, imprinting like an afterimage.

Watch me on the trapeze, Tim.

“Get a visual,” was all Batman said, when he called an hour before. This was a case he didn’t think Batman was even supposed to know about, but Tim didn’t press; that voice, floundering in the undercurrent, was all Bruce. “I’ll take care of things here.”

Lung irritation, Tim thought. Grainy footage. Bruce’s cryptic-as-hell phone call. Charred split ends. Nightwing’s casual suicidal patrols? Yeah, Tim was going to dry-heave across Dick’s apartment floor; the inside of his mouth was all sour, like something gone bad overnight. Dick knew about the leak, but not that Batman and his underperforming Robin were on the case, too. Tim was gonna have to do it again—like his first day at the Cave, digging up the memory of Dick’s ghosts, not letting the damn dead stay dead.

Dick threw a hand towel at Tim’s face with a laugh. “Wipe your mouth, Timmy.”

Nicknames, huh.

If Dick hated him, he was hiding it well. Like a child, Tim obediently cleaned the pulp from his mouth. Then, like a coward: “Could I—bathroom?”

read the rest on ao3

[pinpilinpaux]

Alexia Putellas on her interview with SPORT

Are you happy?

How deep! [laughs]. Yes, yes, I am very happy. I had a really hard time during the injury. Until that moment I was lucky that I had never been injured before and it was really fucked up. I worked a lot to be able to have these opportunities now and enjoy competing again. I just want this: to win, to compete, to train, to help the team. I'm happy and it shows on the field, doesn't it?

Did that beautiful goal against Madrid with the outside come to you by itself or did you have time to think about it?

I didn't think about it at the time, I think a lot on the pitch, but I often flow and that's what came to me. Then I analyzed the play and Misa was already cutting me off, and with the inside I don't know if it would have gone in, because I had to wait a little longer. Kika left it for me to finish with the right, but I chained the stride and it fell to me on the outside.

It couldn't be any other way, your 199th goal with Barça to surpass Luis Suárez and enter the club's historical podium. It's not to compare, but to put what you're doing as a midfielder into perspective.

When I started at the club, I never imagined I could reach almost 200 goals. It's a figure we've usually seen more in strikers. I work on many things and efficiency is one of them. I know that I have at least one per game and I have always tried to help the team in that way. I don't think I do it only with goals, but with many other things, but I always work to make it happen.

When you see all this, are you aware that you are one of the best players in history or you don't think about it?

No, no, no. I don't think any of this. I think these things are valued, just like titles and everything you can contribute to a sport or a club, when you are no longer there. Right now I just think about the next game and then the next one. And so on throughout the season.

How did you receive the affection of your teammates after achieving this milestone in Madrid? They celebrated with you and then sang to you in the locker room.

I had nothing in mind, to tell you the truth. And in fact, whenever I score, I don't know what to do. I get carried away by the adrenaline. At that moment I was almost not even aware that it was goal 199, the celebration was more because we were winning 0-4 against Real Madrid at their home. The team competed very well in the match, the level was very high. We all got together on the bench and celebrated together.

Everyone who works with you says you're doing very well physically and, above all, mentally. Where are you at now?

I think the word that best defines it is stability. I knew that after the game against Manchester City. The reaction was that: of balance, that everything was fine and was going to be fine. I felt like I have throughout my career and it's a feeling of enormous tranquility.

When you signed your renewal, after a long negotiation, the phrase 'Alexia is Barça and Barça is Alexia' was repeated. What does this say to you?

A lot. But I think that Barça is not just one player, it's a lot more, that's why it's the best club in the world. But if someone thinks like that... I feel flattered.

During the injury, were you thinking 'I'm going to come back' or 'I'm going to be the best again'?

There are many phases in a process like this. In my case, I went from being at a very high level to having to learn to walk. I don't know if people are aware of what an ACL operation is, but if they are not very apprehensive, they should look it up. They do everything to you in this operation. And when you have to relearn how to walk and run, you don't think about anything else but the immediate. You have surgery and you can't even put your plate on the table to eat.

Totally dependent...

You need help for everything. And I didn't think about anything else but getting back to playing. Then you burn through the stages. When you achieve one thing, you go for another, and another. I'm like that with everything and I was also like that with the injury. And then you think about working to get back to the level you were at.

I really liked your speech in the locker room before the final in Bilbao. You were a substitute and you talked about the importance of all the players on the team, those who were going to play and those who were not.

These injuries also make you learn a lot. I have been in roles that I had not lived before, both when I was injured and when you return to the team and you see that you need to get into the rhythm, that you need time, but at the same time you don't have time because this is the elite. And today I understand much more what a teammate who is not playing a lot or who does not have confidence in herself can feel. And this is something that the injury has also given me.

What did it mean to you to be back in Paris, among the ten finalists for the Ballon d'Or?

It was a different day in my life. Gratitude and happiness for the recognition. It's not why I play, but everyone likes to be recognized if you've done your job well. It is something very subjective, because everyone has their own opinion and everyone votes their own preferences. I just dedicate myself to helping the team, to contribute my virtues inside and outside, and if they recognize it, I am very grateful, to be honest.

It's a long season, but you're off to a great start. Can you see yourself on the stage of the Châtelet for another year?

Ugh... I don't know. It's true, I don't think about it. I'm only thinking about the next game and, at the very most, what I'm planning in the long term is titles, trying to fight for the four again. And in the summer, the Euro. After that, the season is over and it doesn't depend on me.

Two Ballon d'Or for you and two for Aitana, four in a row. Is it a reflection of how well Barça is doing?

One hundred percent. When I won them, I felt it was a prize not only for me but for all of us, for the project. And now I still feel the same way. You have been winning for four years an award that is perhaps the most prestigious and this says a lot about the club, the team, the teammates, the staff, what is created, the fans.... It is the award that makes visible everything that is behind it.

After the classic you wanted to highlight the work of Pere Romeu and all the staff. How have these first months of changes been?

At the beginning we felt, because this is Barça and the demand is maximum, that we needed to finish fitting pieces, ideas and really define what we want to be. And I think that with the passing of these months we have seen perfectly that in the end all we needed was time and I am very happy for the team and also for the staff.

Hence your words...

I think that the preparation phase of the coaching staff can often go unnoticed. In the end, we see everything they work on so that we can execute it on the field, everything they transmit to us and the many tools they give us so that we can almost flow. And I wanted to highlight this after a victory like this, because it was also, and to a large extent, their merit.

When you started playing in Sabadell, you were mixed in a team with girls of different ages and you were always one of the youngest. Now you have a special admiration from Barça's youngest players: Pina, Jana, Vicky... What can you tell me about this rising generation?

The future that awaits Barça is incredible. It is also true that there is more and more competition and it is difficult. When I arrived here, I didn't have or need that adaptation, because it wasn't the same. Back then, when you were 17 or 18 years old, you were already playing every game. And now, perhaps, it's a little different, but the demands are also different. I have a very good relationship with all of them and for them I'm not a mother, because I'm not a mother because I'm 30, but I'm like an older sister. I have a great time with them.

Is it possible for you to tell us why you call Vicky 'stitch' or is it a secret?

[Laughs] Let her tell you, let her tell you.

We write it down for Vicky, then.

Write it down for her, write it down for her.

Now the Champions League is back, which did not start well in Manchester, but you came out to say that no one should doubt Barça. And the team responded.

We really want to be in the quarter-finals and be first in the group, and for that we depend on ourselves. We have two away games left, which won't be easy, and on December 18 City come to Montjuïc. Given how the game went there, we are looking forward to this one.

The other day, against St. Pölten, the girls from your Foundation, Eleven, came to Johan to surprise you. Were you excited?

Very much so. It's a very special project. It was born when I broke my knee, I had a lot of time and it helped me to get through it a bit, because I had a lot of time, which is something I'd never had before. I broadened my vision and started to create things. Everything I do, I do it because it is born from me. It fills me with pride to see that it is already a reality and that I can help other people thanks to what life has given me.

Do you think about a future after your soccer career?

No, especially now that I am very happy. I don't see myself in any other way than as a player for the moment.

[supernova-stardust]

Little King

marauders microfic | completed | trans Regulus | word count: 1,033 | rating: T

The night before his first day at Hogwarts, Regulus decides to be brave and ask his older brother to help him be true to his authentic self by cutting his hair.

Full fic after the break or via ao3

cw for fanon typical mentions of abuse of the Black Brothers

Regulus crept down the hallway, his hand curled delicately around the pair of shears he had stolen from the kitchen after dinner had been served tonight. He was careful to avoid the loose floorboard that always creaked, to his brother's bedroom. Regulus knew that his brother was probably asleep, but he hadn't been able to find any time all week to speak with him when their parents weren't looming. He didn't bother knocking and instead silently turned the knob and pushed through the door, being careful to avoid bumping into the door frame as he slid in through the narrow opening.

He tiptoed to his brother's bed and crawled onto the plush mattress next to Sirius' sleeping form. Sirius woke immediately, sitting up and rubbing away the sleep from his eyes.

"Hey," Sirius whispered. He had grown so used to Regulus sneaking into his room late at night that he never startled anymore. "We have to wake up early tomorrow to catch the train. What are you doing awake?"

"I want you to cut my hair," Regulus said as he presented the shears to his brother in his open palms.

Sirius' eyebrows knit together in confusion.

"I-I'm not a girl. And I'm sick of looking like one." Regulus bowed his head in shame, too afraid to see how his brother would react to the admission. "I don't want to go to Hogwarts for my first day looking like a girl," he murmured.

"You don't look like a girl if you're not a girl," Sirius said carefully. "But yeah, sure. Whatever you want." He reached out and plucked the shears from Regulus' hands, snipping at the air a few times for dramatic effect. "I'm gonna give you the best haircut of your life."

Regulus looked up at his brother and smiled, feeling—for the first time—truly seen. Sirius had always been the only person who had understood him, but Regulus had feared voicing these thoughts for so long. If Sirius hadn't accepted him, who would? If his brother hadn't understood how he was feeling, then he had vowed to keep it a secret to his grave. He let out a breath in relief, unaware that he had been holding his breath in the first place.

"I'll lie and say I did it myself," Regulus said softly as he sat himself on the chair at Sirius' desk. "You shouldn't have to get a beating for this too."

"Oh, come off it. I'll take full responsibility. Tell them I cut your hair in your sleep as a joke." Sirius strode to the bureau and grabbed his comb before making his way back to where Regulus sat. "They won't beat me too bad anyway. Can't have the headmaster see bruises when we get off the train, right?"

"I'm serious—"

"No, I'm Sirius. What's your name?"

"Huh?"

"Well, do you want a new name too? To go along with this fantastic haircut?" Sirius combed through Regulus' hair, giving him time to process the question asked of him. He hadn't really thought of using a new name. He had been so preoccupied with the limitless outcomes of this conversation that he hadn't thought once about what he might prefer to be called. He certainly didn't want to keep the name his parents had given him at birth, the name far too feminine to ever be considered gender neutral, let alone masculine.

"I hadn't really thought about it," he admitted.

Sirius scoffed then walked towards his bookshelf. He scanned through the titles until he found the one he had been searching for, pulled the book off the shelf, and plopped it into Regulus' lap. The Book of Stars and Constellations.

"Flip through that until something speaks to you while I cut your hair."

They sat in silence, both fully absorbed in their tasks. With every cut of the shears, Regulus felt lighter and more like himself than he had ever thought possible. When he flipped to the page covering the constellation of Leo, he froze.

Regulus.

"Found it," he whispered, timidly breaking the comfortable silence that had stretched between them while they worked.

"Hm?" Sirius hummed in question.

"Regulus."

"The heart of the lion?"

"Do you like it?"

"I love it," Sirius said. "It's perfect. You're my brave little lion, Regulus."

Regulus beamed, full of pride for himself for the first time that he could remember. "Maybe when I get sorted tomorrow, I'll be in Gryffindor like you."

"Maybe," Sirius said softly. "But it's okay if you're not. You've seen how awful Mother and Father treat me because of it, Regulus. It's okay to want to pick an easier path. Choosing to be your authentic self will already be hard enough, yeah?"

"But I don't want to lose you."

"You won't." Sirius kissed the top of his head. "Go look in the mirror. Looks great, if I do say so myself."

Regulus stood up and walked over to the mirror, looking down at his feet as he went. When he could no longer avoid looking at his own reflection, he shifted his gaze up to meet, for the first time, a reflection that reflected…him.

"You like it?" Sirius asked from across the room.

Regulus played with his short hair, tossing the curls this way and that, and nodded adamantly. "I love it. Thank you."

"Any time, Reggie."

Regulus scrunched his nose in disgust at the nickname. "Don't call me that."

"Too late," Sirius taunted playfully. "You can be Regulus to everyone else, but I get special brother privileges to call you annoying nicknames."

Regulus rolled his eyes as he stepped closer to his brother. "Fine. But only you. If any of your stupid friends call me Reggie, I'll stab them."

Sirius covered his mouth to stifle his laughter. "I believe you, actually."

"As you should," Regulus smirked. He threw himself at his brother, wrapping his arms around him in a tight hug. He buried his head into Sirius' chest and reveled at the feeling of his brother hugging him back and feeling safe within his arms. "Thank you," he whispered.

Sirius squeezed tight. "Thanks for trusting me, Regulus. I love you."

"I love you too," Regulus whispered back.

[writingwhimsey]

Hi! 🤗 Congratulations on 400 followers🎉. I choose suitor as a dad from the fluff prompt list. Can I have Mitsuhide, Arthur and Clavis please?. I hope you have fun with this but no pressure🩷

Thank you darling! I love this one and I hope you do too!

400 Follower Celebration

Fluff headcanon: Suitors as fathers

Suitors: ikesen Mitsuhide, ikevamp Arthur, and ikepri Clavis

Only warning, you may get cavities from how sweet this is.

Mitsuhide

He’d never given much thought to becoming a father. Bringing a little one into this war torn world, adding another person who could be at risk of being pulled into his darkness? It didn’t seem right to put a child through that. And yet once he met you…and then when you told him you were pregnant…he was scared, but oh so happy.

Once your little one arrived, Mitsuhide fell in love instantly. He vowed that he would make the world a safer place for the little one your love had created. He would always protect and cherish your child. As your child grew, he made sure that they never wanted for anything. Never saw the horrors and hardships he, himself, had experienced. 

Though he makes sure your child doesn’t have to experience the same things he had, he still teaches them all the necessary skills they will need to survive…much like he had done with you when you first arrived. He is gentle yet firm while teaching your child all the important skills they’ll need to survive…though he does his best to make sure they never have to actually use these skills.

Arthur

With as much as he had played around, Arthur hadn’t really pictured himself settled down with a family. But then when you came into his life…into his heart he couldn’t help but to want those things. After months of trying, you finally tell him the good news that you’re pregnant, Arthur is over the moon with joy.

He is loving and supportive and doting throughout your pregnancy. He is a major support during the delivery of your child. And as soon as he sees the little one you two made together…he is completely head over heels for this child. He is the most loving and devoted father.

He helps you with the late night feedings, diaper changes, all of it. He doesn’t want to miss a second of fatherhood with this child you two share. As the child grows, he takes to making up bedtime stories to tell them. One of their favorite past times. He is fully involved in your child’s life and loves being a father.

Clavis

From the moment you two marry, Clavis can’t help but to tease you about having a child. Telling you the kingdom of Lecloch needs an heir. Deep down though, he really wants to be a father. Not because of having an heir or such, but because he genuinely wants to have a child with the woman he loves. He wants a family with you. And when that finally happens…he is ready to shout from the rooftops. There may or may not be a week long celebration in his “kingdom” once you announce the news.

During your pregnancy, Clavis is at your beck and call. He is overjoyed when your strange cravings are for his inventive cooking. He happily cooks for you. He dotes on you and loves speaking to your belly. During your labor and delivery, he is by your side the entire time holding your hand…he may make a joke or two trying to lighten the mood of the room, but when you give him that stern look…he knows.

As your child grows, Clavis is loving and attentive. He makes sure to be present in your family life. He never wants you or the child you share to doubt his love for you. He is determined to be a much better father than the one he had. Once the child is old enough, Clavis is teaching them all of his tricks and having them help with his pranks. When they are seen together the staff go, “And now there are two of them.” Clavis is fun, loving, and doting as a father. He absolutely treasures being a father and considers it the best title he has ever held.

Taglist: @oda-princess @zulablaise @violettduchess @kisara-16

@tele86 @otomewonderland @lovely-bubb1es @lucyw260

@queengiuliettafirstlady

[overlyobsessed223]

wrote a quick halbarry drabble to try and ease myself back into writing, thought i'd throw it up onto here. with this i can cross the "only one bed" trope off my ever shrinking list of cliches i've never done before

---

“What are you doing?”

Barry blinks in confusion, pausing in his efforts to make up the couch and turning his head in the direction of Hal’s voice. The hotel room is dark, all the lamps turned off and the drapes drawn shut, meaning he can only barely see the vague outline of Hal’s form on the bed. The one, singular bed they were given instead of the two beds Bruce had promised he’d reserved for them. Upon entering the room and realizing they’d only been given the one bed, Hal had been immediately convinced that Bruce had lied just to be an asshole, while Barry had been more inclined to believe the apologetic hotel manager when she’d told them she was so, so sorry, but there was an error in the booking system and, unfortunately, there were no more double rooms available for the night. 

Having already been worn down from the day’s Justice League mission, Barry hadn’t felt much other than faint resignation regarding the bed situation. He let Hal grab a shower first, and when Hal sauntered over to the large, king-sized bed and flopped onto it face-first with a pained groan, Barry figured it was only fair to let him have the bed. After all, Hal’s bruises and sore muscles surely won’t fare well sleeping on the stiff and lumpy couch cushions, and it might make for a rough night of rest for Barry but at least his fully healed body will be able to handle it better. 

“I’m… getting ready for bed?” Barry responds, glancing back down at the half-prepared couch, trying to figure out what he’d missed and coming up empty. 

“Yeah, but why are you over on the couch?” Hal sounds just as confused as Barry feels. “Why don’t you just sleep in the bed?”

“Uh, because you’re already in it,” Barry points out. Shouldn’t that be obvious?

“So?” Through the darkness, Barry sees Hal prop himself onto his elbows and hears him pat the empty side of the bed. “This is literally the biggest bed I’ve ever seen. There’s more than enough room for both of us.”

It finally dawns on Barry, then, that Hal means they should both sleep in the bed. Together. Barry swallows, his mouth suddenly having gone dry. 

“Oh, um, I don’t think,” Barry frowns, nervously rubbing at the back of his neck. He’s been Hal’s friend for many years at this point, but they’ve never shared the same bed before. Barry’s always been under the impression that that would be weird and in violation of some kind of friendship boundary. Not that he’s spent much time thinking about sharing a bed with Hal in the first place. Honest. “I’m fine with just taking the couch, Hal. Really, I am.”

Even in the near pitch blackness, Barry can still feel Hal’s stare boring into him.

“Barry, you’re not sleeping over on that shitty ass couch over a perfectly fine bed, that’s just stupid,” Hal says. Barry can practically hear the eye roll in his voice. Sighing exasperatingly, Hal cuts off the protest that’s currently loaded up on Barry’s tongue, “would you just come get into bed so we can both get the fuck to sleep? Seriously, Bar, this doesn’t have to be anything more than that.”

“Okay,” Barry acquiesces against his better judgment, shuffling over to the bed. He awkwardly slides under the covers, and admittedly, the mattress feels worlds better on his spine and neck than the couch. Pulling the covers up to his chin, he lies there stiff as a board, staring up at the ceiling and listening to the sounds of the city outside and Hal’s breathing. 

“You can relax, man,” Hal huffs with laughter after a minute. “Don’t worry, I swear I’ll keep my hands to myself. I won’t cuddle up to you in the middle of the night or anything. I mean, not unless you want me to.”

Barry lets out a soft snort, feeling himself start to unwind and relax. It’s just Hal, he reminds himself, his best and most trusted friend Hal. There’s no reason for him to feel weird, or self-conscious about this. Really, the situation is only as awkward as they decide to make it, and clearly, Hal has already decided he’s not bothered. Maybe Barry shouldn’t be, either. 

“I wouldn’t mind,” Barry blurts out without thinking. He instantly regrets saying it, his eyes growing wide and his face heating up instantly. “I—I mean, uh—”

“Yeah?” Hal questions suggestively, and Barry can imagine him quirking his brow, wearing the beginnings of a cheeky grin. 

Barry lets out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. 

“Yeah,” Barry says, busying himself with playing with the edges of the blanket. 

“Alright,” Hal hums thoughtfully. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

And when Barry wakes in the morning to Hal’s arm slung over him, face pressed into his shoulder, it feels just… normal. Completely and utterly normal. 

Oh, Barry thinks to himself. 

Oh. 

[nevertheless-moving]

Continued From Here

"Wayne, surely," she said, not looking up from her list.

"No," Wax replied, pouring a drink.

"Really?"

"Really," he confirmed, throwing back his drink. This bottle of whiskey was far too expensive to be treated that way, but he had a feeling he would need it's effects sooner rather than later.

"Why ever not?" Steris sounded genuinely baffled. "I mean...I can't imagine him being uninterested, and you two are so close..."

"You don't sleep with everyone you're close to." He watched his hands pour another glass of rich, amber liquid.

"Maybe I don't," she muttered.

He shot her a look and she shrugged, unapologetic.

"I just can't believe you would invite Miles Hundredlives—"

"— One time!"

"—in close like that, but not your best friend. I mean you had been traveling together, for what, 10 years at that point?"

Waxillium drank the next glass more slowly, savoring the burn.

"We did invite him," he finally sighed, pouring a glass, then a second for Steris, then bringing them both to the table. "He said no."

Steris looked bewildered, and he didn't entirely blame her. Him, he could somewhat understand, Wayne had seen him beaten, dragged through horseshit, vomiting, had even helped clean him up after that well had gone foul, and the less that was remembered about that the better. He could hardly blame Wayne if some of the... shine to the Dawnshot image had been tarnished, even if he hadn't been completely opposed to men in the abstract, as Wax had assumed.

But Lessie? I mean, on reflection, the perfection of her body, the graceful way she had aged... maybe it could have been a hint of something else, but Wax had just thought during the moments he questioned his good fortune that it was either his bias or her good luck.

Wayne had definitely been interested in Lessie; Wax had had to tackle the younger bastard to the ground a few times to keep him from leering when she changed or bathed, during the times the three of them had shared camp or rooms.

He had eased off a bit after they made things slightly more official, but still. Everyone was interested in Lessie.

"Are you sure?" Steris asked after a moment. Wax started to pour another drink, but forced his hand down. It was enough for one night, even a night like this.

"Dead certain."

"He couldn't have...misunderstood? Or thought you were playing a prank?"

He sighed, steeling himself. "We verbatim said, 'this isn't a joke or a prank,' and than we both put our hands on his knees—"

"Ah!" Steris said, scribbling something down. "Was that...a 'common move'? For the two of you, I mean. Or couples looking for additional partners, in general."

Waxillium pulled out his hip flask. Hopefully, any flushing would be attributed to the alcohol, not...some sort of petty embarrassment.

"No," he rasped, surprised at the husk in his voice. "No, we were worried that he would think we were making fun, so we wanted to be very clear."

He stared into the distance, thinking back. Most of their...conquests at the time had made his heart race with stress, maybe even a touch of dread at the thought of embarrassing himself intimately in front of company. But Wayne? Like he said, if there were two people he wasn't worried about looking foolish in front of it was Lessie and Wayne, who had already seen him at his best and his worst, and had decided to stay with him anyway.

He had been a little concerned about some extra dirty jokes, but to be completely honest, some of what Wayne had let slip about his own...proclivities had left Wax, well, intrigued. It might be nice, to have the man's hands where he could see them, not free to 'trade' for nicer handkerchiefs. To make him shut up, just for a few minutes, but in a good way — like laughing too hard around a fire, not the darker quiet the young man could occasionally be prone to.

"Wayne turned down sex with you and Lessie?" Steris still seemed flabbergasted at the idea. "The woman-kandra-person who regularly disguised herself as a dancing girl?"

"Not that regularly. She only did a few times on purpose."

She stared flatly at him and he conceded the point.

"I don't know!" he said, one hand bringing the flask down hard, the other flying up in bewilderment. "He just — he really wasn't interested, alright! He practically ran out of the room!"

"Perhaps he was simply overwhelmed with —"

Wax shook his head, trying not let the gnawing frustration turn into anger, with Steris most certainly didn't deserve. "No. He very clearly said no, and that 'he would greatly appreciate if we would never make the offer, or anything like it, ever again,'"

Steris leaned back, stumped. "Perhaps the Wayne you spoke to was also a Kandra?" she offered weakly.

He gave her a look and she huffed, crossing her arms. "It just seems so out of character!"

Waxillium shrugged. "He's more nuanced than people give him credit for. I might know him better than anyone, but there's still times I read him wrong, or can't get a read at all."

"If it was not for Mellaan I would assume it was the prospect of a man in the picture."

"Yeah. Those were my thoughts too."

Steris peered at him out of the corner of her eyes. He fidgeted slightly.

"Waxillium Ladrian," she said slowly, "Are you jealous?"

"No, no — just..." he stared down at his hands, voice growing weak. "Maybe...a bit vain. I mean I know I'm old now, but back then—" he shook his head ruefully. "It's foolish. A younger man's wounded pride."

[antari]

zosan... zosan is so good for my health. Two equally powerful guys in the middle of the sea. THEY ARE EQUALLY STRONG AND EQUALLY GOOD PEOPLE!!!!!! they're kind hearted and care for their crew's safety more than anything. THE WINGS OF THE FUTURE PIRATE KING.

And like... I like the enemies trope just as much as the next person but my god if their rivalry isn't a 100 times more wholesome than if they simply just Hated each other's guts and called it a day + sanji's fucked up past and over +1000ch worth of canon story fills the angsty quota more than enough, allowing creators to come up with the craziest yet in-character fan content you could ever imagine

[catherine-sketches]

Thinking about Charles Xavier, who is simultaneously aware of everyone but at the same time not because if he was himself to the fullest people find him upsetting and rude and nosy

Thinking about his unshakable sense of morality, right and wrong and justice that he formed at the age of 9 and has kept ever since, with modifications along the years but those core values remain

Thinking about how the overstimulation of a thousand voices in his head drove him to self medicate to the point of nearly addiction

Thinking about how he has difficulty reading people when his power is not in use, ending up saying the worst things without meaning to upset no one

Thinking about how everyone should be “mutant and proud” except Charles over there that is too passing to be a mutant but too weird to be a human and simultaneously his mutation, the way his brain is fucking wired, is too inconvenient for everyone around him mutant and human alike to accept

Charles Xavier they would never make me hate you. You and your autism telepathy