#he's so aware of his free will.... too aware

[sugusatosluut]

Overworked and Overstimulated

Synopsis: You take on every job Cecil hands you as his overachieving daughter, but what could be more relaxing after work than getting high with your friends?

Warnings: Edibles, smut, threesome! MDNI💓

You returned back to the guardian’s hq, exhaustedly ripping your mask off of your head. Your father called you on four missions back to back because he had already sent the new guardians and invincible to space. You wanted to go sooooo bad, but he found it better for you to sit this one out. Coincidentally upon returning back, you had found out that they all made it back a few days ago and Cecil wanted you to handle everything until most of them recovered. Easier said than done. Usually it was about six life threatening issues a day, but to tackle four of the worst ones in one day was just a little too much.

You showered, then went up to your room. Dimming the lights, you changed and turned on your music as you took out a pot brownie. You deserved this, you worked too damn hard not to. Stupid GDA invested father using you as a machine.. but he was your dad and sometimes it was your fault for biting off more than you could chew. Typical of you to not say something yet act out when you’re overstimulated. Just typical.

As you got comfortable in your little room, Mark and Rex knocked at your door. What a surprise, they never approach you unless they need help, so maybe now’s not a good time to get high.

“Yo, y/n! Good job holding down the fort until we came back. I see the world’s got a new favorite nepo baby.” Rex chuckled as he grabbed a chair.

“C’mon Rex you know she doesn’t like that.” Mark nudged his shoulder.

“Sorry.. sometimes the social awareness just doesn’t que up fast enough in my brain. Anyways, whatcha doin? Taking the night off?” Rex asked as he played with the items on your desk.

“Yeah, my dad gave me four of the worst missions today. Just figured I’d mellow out in my room for the rest of the day.” You sighed.

“With a pot brownie?” Mark asked sitting in the edge of your bed and holding the ziploc bag containing your brownies.

“Uh-y-yeah. Well I was gonna wait til you guys left in case you didn’t need me for anything but this seemed important so I couldn’t eat one right this second.” You said nervously.

“Fuck that, this is your free time.. Mark and I have been off for a while. Let’s say we make this a group trip huh? I’ll pay you back for it later.” Rex said taking the brownies from Mark.

“I’m down, you don’t have to pay me back though Sloan. I’m content with this. Just quality time with my friends.” You said relaxing back in your bed.

You, Mark and Rex all ate a brownie, waiting for the effects to kick in.

About an hour later you were all feeling the effects. You had put some dumb chick flick on and both men were entertained. It was quiet. Mark was shirtless, with an arm wrapped around you and Rex was also shirtless laying on your chest. Before the high had kicked in you guys gave mark money to get snacks and he delivered. As you guys watched the movie, all that could be heard was the crunching of chips. Both of their bodies were keeping you extremely warm. The movie ended and all three of you were wondering what to do next.

“Basketball?” Rex offered.

“Let’s go. Me and you Rex.” Mark smirked at him.

The three of you went down into the HQ training center. Both boys were shooting hoops.

“This is boring, can we find a way to make it interesting?” Mark asked.

“Ask and you shall recieve. First one to score five shots wins a kiss from the pretty lady over there— and don’t tell me you’re not dying for a taste of that. The best things in life are things that you aren’t allowed to have.” Rex winked.

“I can reason with that as long as it’s okay with y/n.” Mark asked.

“We’ll— I don’t wanna sound desperate but I mean it’s perfectly fine with me.” You blushed. You were in fact the most desperate for this. The past flirtations between you and Mark and then you and Rex throughout your time at the GDA always got to you. Your dad always steered them both away.. well not just them, everyone—away. Mark and Rex didn’t really care, they were friends to the end. They stood up to Cecil which finally allowed you to go on missions, but Cecil drew the line at space. The old man knew better than to get between you and your friends. Yes, you loved your dad but there’s always a battle to be fought with him.

“You’re on.” Mark smirked.

Both boys played away and suddenly the score went from one to four. It was the final point for each of them.

“This one’s for you!” They both shouted together. The anticipation guided you to insanity. If Rex scored and mark felt jealous? It would ruin you. If Mark scored and Rex feel jealous? God.. it’s too much to handle. It’s okay to change your mind and everything, the boys would understand. You don’t want one without the other.

“Well looks like we’re both getting kissed. Both our baskets were made.” Mark smiled smugly.

How did you miss it? Oh well. You weren’t kissing them in the middle of the guardians hq, that would be an awkward moment you couldn’t come back from. The boys held their excitement until you all made it back to your room. Now it was really awkward for you.

“I know I’ve only gotten high with you guys once before but holy shit you look like you’re in a real predicament right now y/n.” Mark laughed.

Rex joined in on laughing, both of them were laughing a bit too hard, it was a little too contagious.

“You’re right, she’s as red as a fucking ripe ass tomato!” Rex was wheezing at this point. The laughter coming from your room was intense and anybody coming by your room could tell you were having a fun time.

You started laughing along with them and soon the laughing turned to joyous tears from your stomachs hurting so bad. After all the laughing, you rested your head on Mark’s shoulder again as you all made it back to laying on your giant bed that took up most of the room in your little box. Mark scooted you, letting you in between his legs as your back touched his chest. Mark played with your hair and Rex was up to something mischevious. Rex snuck himself under the covers, pulling down your lace panties and your pajama pants. You would have been way more alarmed in any other circumstance but for this one? You felt so at peace with both of them doing what they wanted to you. It was the best stress relief you had in a while.

Mark’s hands reached for your shirt, lifting it up off your body and kissing the back of your neck. As Rex started to eat you out your body started to tingle with numbness. The high was really intensifying all your senses. Rex’s tongue lapped and licked your little bud under the covers. To ease you, Mark grabbed onto your breasts, kneading them and kissing your neck. Rex’s grip on your hips stayed firm.

“I thought you both wanted a kiss.” You whined.

“We did, the high just feels too nice to waste on a little kiss. You getting overstimulated? I can tell by the way you’re squirming. Quit acting out.” Mark said firmly as his hands shifted positions, as one arm was now around your neck.

You whined and groaned until you started getting close, both boys were naked at this point, the temperature in the room getting hotter, the feelings more intense.. both boys were slipping in and out of you roughly as you were still whining, eventually the three of you would finish at the same time. You all hit the showers and you went back to your room in silence. Your body was now tired.

“Hey- uh.. thanks for that. If you ever wanna use me I left my number on your board.” Rex winked at you before deciding to leave.

“Leaving so soon?” You asked.

“Yeah.. unfortunately you’re not the only girl on my roster sweet cheeks.” He whistled.

“Alright, see you around.” You waved.

Well at least Rex admitted to wanting a late night booty call.

Mark walked into your room timidly.

“You leaving too?” You pouted.

“Oh stop pouting. I got you flowers. I wanna stay and cuddle. I was in space for five days I thought you’d miss me a little more.” He said.

“Now look who’s pouting.” You smirked.

Mark came into your room placing the flowers on your nightstand and laying down on top of you, his body weight giving you the utmost relief.

“I don’t want to share you again. That was a one time deal.” He complained.

“I understand, thank you for letting me experience that.” You smiled at him.

The room seemed to go quiet, you eyes started to shut and mark had one last thing on his mind.

“When are you gonna tell your dad about us?”

“Mark— go to sleep.”

[kismetlotts]

cw: soft love, soft sex, sexual content, mentions of rough sex but none at all, Simon cant help but get emotional, crying, cheek kisses, mentions of Simons military scars, soft touch, love, riding, comfort

Simon Riley who cries during sex- but not in a broken submissive way. Not because you’ve teased him, treat him and took him like the good boy he is. Not because you’ve made him beg and yearn for you so hard and so much he can’t help but sob.

No, Simon Riley who cries because no matter how humid the room is, how wet the sheets are from the both of your sweat and love combined, no matter how dark- lights on and off, only one thing comes to his mind when you settle yourself down on him.

How beautiful you are.

Hearing your murmurs, whines- moans and breaths. Hearing you ask him if everything is okay- if you were okay- if you were fucking ‘good’ for him. It pissed him off because you were perfect in every single way. Even when you accidentally gripped him a little too hard, or bit down or wriggled in a way that makes him hiss- every little fault and fail was perfect because you made it. And it made him emotional. Made him feel.

He’d try to be brave, to be calm- to shake and swallow down them emotions. An SAS soldier crying during sex? What an absolute loser! He didn’t want you to catch him like that, his large hand gently fisting the back of your hair before pushing your face down into his shoulder. Watered eyes, staring up at the ceiling as tears leaked from the corner of his eyes and dripped either side of his head.

“Am I doing alright?” You would breathe out to him. Raising your head from his shoulder while moving your hips to match his rhythm. The duvet to the double bed the two of you shared draped over your shoulders, concealing you both together. Together; the two of you- Simon wished he could live in this moment forevermore.

“Of-” He would start but pause as his voice cracked and lip quivered, choking back the tears that threatened to break. The dark hairs of his eyebrows furrowed in irritation as he scolded himself mentally. Throat was jammed, his heart a mix between bursting open and falling into his stomach. For once he felt vulnerable. He shouldn’t be acting this way- sex was supposed to be full of hunger and desire.

You reached your hand down, placing it over his own that fell attached to the skin of your waist. It was so natural to you, you didn’t even notice you did it meanwhile Simon almost broke apart at the gesture. Inhaling sharply and getting hold of himself.

“Of course you are. Perfect in every way.” His voice a croaky whisper and he pressed his chapped lips against the soft skin of your cheek. Kissing you with such passion and care.

The scars of his fingers brushed against your skin while he pushed your hair to the side with his free hand. The two of you locked like that while you both orgasmed. Skin to skin, chest to chest; his molten warmth flooding you with admiration and affection. It was real, he felt purpose with you.

Moments passed and the two of you would move to get comfortable, he’d move his arms letting you climb off of him before immediately rubbing his eyes clear. You wouldn’t miss the redness and the way his nose sounded all snotty as he breathed in; but if you were ever to ask he would just tell you he was feeling tired.

You couldn’t miss the times you heard a whimper slip that was a pitch to high to be from pleasure alone, the times you’d seen the skin beneath his eyes shine- of course it could just be sweat- however deep down you knew otherwise and he was fully aware you knew about his ‘tearful tendencies��. He saw it in your eyes as you searched his face.

You didn’t push him, though. You didn’t tease him or tell him that he shouldn’t be embarrassed. You didn’t try to comfort him and you did not pester him about it. You never mentioned it once because sometimes words aren’t needed to communicate. Dark eyes fluttering shut as your fingers trailed the muscles and veins of his arms, soft strokes against his harsh, worn skin: your touch spoke volumes to him.

You understood that, even if he knew that you knew, he didn’t need the confirmation: just the comfort to barricade himself out his head.

And that was another reason he loved you.

[howlingmod]

SIT NEXT TO ME!

summary - how some of the survivors and killers show their love ... giggles

misc - low quality content im so tire .... but i must write .... it is demanded of me .....

Noob - Physical Touch

-Simple pleasure, simple guy, what can I say.

-It's not even something they're aware of half the time, a big part of what probably tipped you off to their feelings for you in the first place was their touchiness. While they're more physical with everyone, it definitely lingered with you more. They'd stick closer to you on excursions and, more often than not, would be brushing shoulders with you when working on generators.

-They just like being able to feel your presence, it's grounding to them in a big way. A lot of the time they'll have a hand on you just because it feels comforting, usually it's on your shoulder or they'll reach for your arm if you've got one free (they prefer holding onto your arm/hooking arms more than handholding to be honest ... it just feels so much more secure and special !!)

-Late at night they'll frequently fidget with your hands, looking at all the lines in your palms and the little cuts and marks that litter your skin. It puts them in a trance, you're just so gorgeous to them, in that human, real kinda way. It's hard for them to put into words ...

007n7 - Physical Touch

-Before .... everything, he's a lot more varied. If anything, he probably leaned more towards acts of service- he likes making your life easier, especially with you (presumably) helping him raise c00lkid. It's not easy being a parent, he knows how stressful it and daily living in general can be. He feels good if he can make your day a little less stressful.

-Now though, he really needs that grounding. There's just so much missing. He's not really on great terms with anyone here and he knows he deserves it. You're all he has left. You're the only shred of his perfect life left.

-It's the little things when you guys are around others, the way he sticks to your side, the times where he'll subtly reach for your hand and squeeze it in reassurance, where he'll hug you when you get back from an excursion and look you over. It's the little bits of vulnerability he can spare to show you he loves you.

-Other times, it's more desperate, tight clinging to your form when you lay together because everything's suddenly clamped down on him like a million weights. It's those times that feel most like a perverted version of the ways you used to lay together when things were better, less suffocating and mournful. Sometimes you still expect the door to your room to open and c00lkid to crawl under the sheets with you two. He never does.

Shedletsky - Quality Time

-Ohhh my god this guy does not shut up. He's always got some story to tell you about, some little anecdote that something you said or something that happened reminded him of. You never really know how accurate he's being to reality, you can make your guesses but he'll only ever smile and shrug if you ask for confirmation.

-It could come off as egotistical or annoying if it weren't fairly obvious it was his way of keeping morale up. What, you think he's making things up? Why, he'd never! You'll just have to argue with him about it if you care so much. It's just a way of keeping your mind on something other than your current situation, even if it means he has to be the butt of a joke more than a few times. Besides, he just thinks playfighting with you is fun sorryyyyy <//3

-That being said, he can be serious. What you two are going through isn't exactly easy, you can't always ignore it, you have to face it head on sometimes. If you wanna talk about how scared you feel not knowing what's going to happen, he'll listen and admit he's scared too. If you wanna talk about how hopeless everything feels, he'll admit he's felt the same way a few times before. He might not be as emotional but he's forthcoming with his experiences, the last thing he wants you to feel is alone, if he can make you feel heard and helped then he's happy to admit to every bad dream that's ever haunted him.

-It'll always end with some little glimmer of hope, no matter how vague. He can't afford to lose you to apathy, he'll spin as many tales and sneak as many wishes he has for the two of you into your conversations as it takes for you to keep going just a little longer. He doesn't know what the future looks like, but he wants you to be there with him to see it.

Dusekkar - Acts of Service

-While they're more than good with their words and freely give out their praise to you, they also worry about your physical well-being frequently. Even if you're in good standings, they'll be keeping an eye on you. It's just a habit they've picked up protecting the others that's amplified tenfold for you. Perhaps they're a little biased with their shields, but they couldn't bear to lose you.

-They'll make your life easier in any way that they can, they know that the stress of everything can add up and they want you to stay strong despite it. They can't stand idly by and let you fall to the wayside, rotting in fear and pain. How could they ever truly protect you if they allowed for you to crumble right in their arms?

-It's little things- letting you sleep in longer, making sure you get a little extra food even if it means sacrificing some of their portion, hovering around you whenever you head out on an excursion. You're their world, their muse, their heart- they'll make sure you know how important you are to them and how deeply they care for your health in every way they can, it's what you deserve.

John Doe - Acts of Service(?)

-John's a weird one. He only has so much he can do for you without risking hurting you. If he sticks around you too often that could alert the other survivors and cause them to attack you. He can take bullets, you can't. Additionally, he has to be careful, that corrupted arm of his isn't exactly gentle. He knows fully that he could crush you, kill you in the blink of an eye if he isn't careful. So, he has to settle for little gestures.

-He'll leave you alone when he hunts. He'll heard you in the direction of generators, supplies, warm corners free from the chilling wind. If everyone else dies he'll walk you back home, paint you with their blood to make sure it doesn't look suspicious. He'll watch from afar till you disappear into the closed doors of your 'base.' Even then, you suspect he doesn't leave until later, hovering around as a spare set of eyes and ears on you.

-Even then, he's selfish, takes gambles when he hangs around you for just a little while longer. He'll contort, physically pulling the shoulder of his monstrous arm as far back as he can to avoid the chances of even brushing it against you when he reaches for you with the other. He'll keep it restrained, muscles pulled taut just to keep you to his side in a rare moment of peace. He's a man of few words, you can only imagine what his vocal chords have been turned into, but if you push your head close enough to his chest you just might hear him breathe out an "I love you" in between the pained labor of his lungs.

1x4 - Gift giving

-Likewise, he also can't stick around for very long. That doesn't mean he won't make a lasting mark on you. He's more risky, he knows that if the others found out and tried anything he could paint the walls red with them all before they could even lay a finger on you. He thinks he could take care of you far better than they could, provide a better home, protect you better than they could ever try to. More than once he's thought about faking your death, making a bloody scene for the others to find so he can take you from them. They're only a burden on you, a risk you (for whatever reason) worry yourself with.

-He won't force you, he's some humanity left, but that doesn't mean he won't show them up (to him, at least). He'll present you with enough jewels and gold to make an officiant pale with the dried gums of blood in between the joints, kick supplies in your direction and rip them from the hands of fallen survivors to give to you, he's offered up fingers, bones and heads as a show of his prowess and only grumbles when you turn them down.

-He'll never understand why you bother yourself in the ways you do, taking others under your wing when they can't do anything but leech off of you in return, so he'll have to make up for their inabilities instead. Where they can only take, he'll give you more than you could've ever dreamed for. It's his way of displaying how special you are to him, the pride he takes in you just as you do him. Consider himself a dragon and you the lucky singular he allows into his hoard.

+ (PLATONIC/FAMILIAL) C00lkid - N/A

-Well ... c00lkids always really liked spending time with you and dad! Dad always had cool stories about all the stuff he got up to when he was younger and you always had fun games to play with him and dad. Sometimes you'd draw with him and happily hang up his art to admire everytime you went through the kitchen before work and then he'd spend the whole day drawing more and more for you to look at, making up stories (that usually involved dracobloxxers) and worlds to tell you all about during dinner.

-Other times you guys would play tag! Usually it didn't last very long, at some point you'd get tired and have to sit down for a while and do something else with him (SAD!) but you'd been running a lot more recently! He hadn't been able to tag you in a whiiile, but he knows he will eventually! You've just been giving him another challenge to overcome like you always did, ducking around corners and over ledges. It's hard, he's scraped his knees pretty bad a few times and run into the walls more than he can count, but he always gets back up!

-It's a little weird to him though. He's never really played with anyone other than you and dad. He doesn't really know why those other people are there. You won't tell him. You never stop running. (He misses when you'd get tired, when you'd stop and hold him while you watched a movie together instead.) (He misses you and dad talking to eachother, telling him stories and dancing with him in the kitchen.) (Did he do something wrong? Are you mad at him? Why won't either of you just TALK to him!-) (If he stops chasing you, won't you be sad? Would he be disappointing you?)

-Sometimes he suddenly gets very sad. Sometimes you stand still and look at him from afar and you don't smile at him. Just stare and have this weird, long-gone look he's never seen before. He thinks about walking up to you, asking what's wrong, if you and dad hate him, why you always run but he knows you'll just run again. Instead he just chases after everyone else and wishes dad would order pizza again and you would put band-aids over the cuts on his knees from falling and the pricks of branches on his arms.

[michimars-room]

Confessions & Love Languages

with the Sinostra Ghouls 🎰🤑

so uhhh... it feels illegal if i don't tag Auburn if im posting about Ritsu... so @cloudcountry ♡ here's more sweet ritsu thoughts!!

Taiga’s…

love languages ♡ quality time, physical touch

✵ So, you're gonna have to REALLY spend a lot of time to stay relevant in his mind, or else he's not going to remember you, silly! You will need to confess first. It's terrifying in general to open your heart, but when it comes to someone as unpredictable and unhinged as Taiga? Of course, you're extremely nervous. He will laugh and tease you, pointing out how fidgety you are… but after you tell him, his whole demeanor changes. He pulls you onto his lap and squeezes you tightly, his breath fanning on your neck. Your presence grounds him and is soothing for him, especially when you glide your hands through his hair, nails gently scratching his scalp. He wants to keep his kitty cat close and safe! He gets upset when you leave his side too long >:(

✵ To him, any time spent together is quality time - whether that's curling up and falling asleep together, sitting in the casino at a table with him. Craves your comfort and touch, that man would kill (genuinely) for his kittycat. Everyone will be extra nice, NOBODY wants to get on Taiga's bad side - ESPECIALLY when it comes to you.

Romeo’s...

love languages ♡ acts of service & gift giving

✵ God, if you chase after him, it would feed this man’s ego if you confess first. If you don’t he will literally go insane. But on the flip side, he’s already going insane seeing you spending time with the other ghouls (whether you have to for missions or just hanging out). Prepare for him to become extra mean… Which in turn, only makes it easier to keep away since he seems to be in a pissy mood when he IS around you. You’re gonna have to be able to stand your ground in this relationship, god willing… I hope you’re good at reading between the lines & his biting words <3. Either way, you are going to be forced to confess first - on your own accord or wait for his mind to break from jealousy. Him calling you repeatedly, texting you over & over again, “come here, I need your help with something.” As so, you go, begrudgingly… you’ve fallen in love with someone who can be so insufferable all because he refuses to acknowledge he has feelings for you. He needs to hear you say it, though. One particular comment on how you are so stupid for not being able to do something makes you snap back, gathering yourself before going to walk out the door. shit he really fucked that up, didn’t he. tugs on your hand lightly, voice softening mumbling out a rushed apology, “I’m sorry please don't go.” so quiet you almost missed it. His facade breaking, showing you his true self made you pause, “You’re lucky I love you…” You muttered, extremely annoyed but he didn’t dwell on that part. Of COURSE you love him, it only made sense! You have wonderful taste 🙂‍↕️. Now his ego is inflated, aware you feel the same… he’s not letting you get away.

✵ He expects mutual pampering, absolutely ADORES going on shopping trips, and buys you the most luxurious, expensive clothes, jewelry, shoes, makeup, skincare, perfume - the list goes on. He’ll show you off on his arm, but god forbid someone, look at you a second longer than he deemed acceptable. If looks could kill… he would have multiple life sentences. Expects you to give massages and vice versa. (He’s actually sooo good at giving massages).

Ritsu’s...

love languages ♡ quality time, acts of service

✵ He will get the hints, but wants you to be clear. Not one for flings, he wants to be with someone who he can see himself with long term! He tries to keep his work & personal life separate, but it's hard when his partner is just so cute. He starts showing appreciation for the little things you do to help him out, and that snowballed into him returning the favor - mostly not during office hours. Him spending his free time with you is a confession in itself. Although he does get flustered when he realizes his feelings, he doesn’t hesitate to voice them actually! Clarifies that he has romantic feelings and is attracted to you - this is to prevent the relationship's lines from becoming blurred and also so you don't feel uncomfortable by the palpable shift in energy between you both…. He's direct with you, leaves you with no room to think otherwise.

✵ After work hours? Oh, he is glued to you ready and willing to do all the couple/romantic things you have in mind (that you've suppressed during working hours…) He will also take the initiative and plan dates outside of working hours - secretly reads romance novels and articles (he's researching shut up) to get date ideas and to keep things in the relationship exciting and interesting, which is VERY important when considering long term relationships.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖ .

[silenzahra]

Oooohhh Miki... I have to admit that this reminded me a bit of my fic An electrical aura, but here Luigi is using his hammer, so... 👀👀👀

How about a new story about Protective Luigi? 😁💚 (I just can't have enough of him going FERAL when protecting Mario ‼️)

💚 You're safe with me ❤️

Luigi can't believe what he’s just witnessed.

That damn monster has just hit his twin with such force that he’s crashed into the stone monument that presided over the entrance to the clearing... and destroyed it.

And his poor brother has taken every single blow.

“Mario!”

Luigi runs to his side, panic-stricken. Mario protests slightly at the pain, dazed, but makes no attempt to open his eyes nor stand up. Kneeling beside him, Luigi cups his face with great care and notices the bruises, his black eye, the blood.

Blood that's also present on his arm and knee.

Something ignites inside Luigi. Something he can only describe as a small flame that springs up in his heart and soon begins to grow until it becomes a blazing fire that consumes him from within.

How dare that beast hurt his brother like that.

How dare he make him bleed.

Luigi gasps heavily. His heart breaks as he sees Mario lying on the ground, badly injured, his eyes closed, coughing from the pain and unable to get up again by himself. He doesn't remember ever seeing Mario this badly before... Usually, his brother would get up straight away, no matter how brutally he'd been beaten.

But this... This has gone a step too far.

Rage boils inside him, poisoning his soul. He can't let the being who's dared to cause his older brother so much harm get away scot-free.

It has to get its comeuppance.

Luigi slowly turns his head towards the monster. His hands are still resting on his twin's body, wanting to protect him, wanting to take care of him, but he takes them away from him at that moment and stands up. Without taking his eyes off the being, he walks over to where his hammer has fallen and picks it up, and, wasting no time, he stands in front of Mario, clutching his weapon tightly, ready to fight.

“You're going to pay for what you've done,” he mutters angrily.

“L-Lu?”

Hearing Mario's voice behind him is a relief. Luigi doesn't turn around because he doesn't want to let his guard down, but knowing that he is at least a little better fills him with fierce determination.

Mario sounds exhausted, dizzy, hurt. He can't fight with all those wounds. And the monster is still willing to put up a fight.

Luigi grips the hammer handle tighter.

“Don’t worry, Mario,” he says, his voice sounding firmer and more resolute than ever. “You're safe with me.”

He hears a soft sigh behind him and the sound of something crawling, a sign that Mario, despite his injuries, is trying to get up.

“I-I know, Lu.”

Luigi can practically hear the smile in his voice, which only intensifies the feeling of relief and, at the same time, stokes the fire that’s been unleashed in his heart. The love for his older brother is the force that moves him right now, the desire to protect him and prevent him from receiving more harm, the hatred for that horrible creature that's dared to make him bleed.

Luigi has no intention of letting it get away.

“Don't you dare touch him,” he mutters through gritted teeth as the monster takes a step towards them. “Over my dead body, you filthy beast.”

He’s well aware that he’s panting. He’s well aware that anger controls his words and every one of his movements. He’s well aware that there’s a possibility that he may get too carried away by rage, by his resentment towards that being who’s hurt the person he loves most in the world, and that said person will probably have to make him stop at some point. Luigi doesn’t often experience these outbursts of fury, but when it takes hold of him, he’s not able to free himself.

Right now he doesn't care, though. Right now, all he cares about is protecting Mario, keeping him safe, making that damn monster pay for what it's done.

So, when the creature pounces on him with a roar, Luigi raises the hammer above his head with a feral scream.

Don’t Touch Him 😡💚

~

I enjoy the idea of how ready Luigi would be if someone severely hurts his brother and he will not be terrified at all in fact be driven to seriously hurt.

(My devious mind kinda likes to think Mario would have to be the one to get Luigi to stop if he ever gets to a snapping point.)

Just don’t fuck with Luigi’s brother and you’ll live basically :3

[matchpointfaist]

yes pleeeeeeease danny x reader!!!! I'm down on my knees begging you cause there's like a shortage of him and for what? he's so fucking hot btw you're so talented I really enjoy the way you describe things!!!

biker danny lyon x nurse! reader

danny made a habit of staying out of the vandal's way, keeping out of fights and drunken arguments, confining himself to a corner with his camera and notebook. he was good and safe that way, keeping himself free of injuries but close enough to the action to get a good view. that is, until the night he earned his leathers.

benny had been into it all night with some trashy guy from a rival gang, shouting comments back and forth across the bar, creeping closer and closer to a full on brawl with each drink. one thing led to another, and in the blink of an eye he was on benny, swinging and cursing and grabbing at him, making up for his lack of coordination with brute force.

danny had a sort of knee jerk reaction, hyper aware of benny's healing injuries, and shot up out of his seat in an instant. he was not, by any means, a fighter, but he was tall and strong enough, he could hold his own. "hey, fucker, get off him!" he shouted, already grabbing for the other guy, catching hold of his vest and landing the hardest hit he could manage on his jaw. his step faltered, and danny had a moment of pride before someone spun him around, a bottle inches from his face. it broke over his head, and the last thing he heard was johnny shouting his name before he fell to the floor.

he came to with a groan a few minutes later, blinking blood from his eyes as he was all but dragged down the sidewalk, johnny on one side and benny on the other. "you awake now?" benny asked, half concern and half laugh, "you took a pretty hard hit," "did i get that guy off 'ya?" he asked, voice slightly hoarse. "yeah, yeah you did," benny shook his head, grinning, "you were a dumbass for that, ya hear? you ain't a fighter,"

danny didn't care. he felt more alive then, half conscious, than he ever had. he might not have been a fighter, but he stood up that night, for the first time in his life. he wasn't just watching from the sidelines, he participated, however stupid it may have been. "where we goin?" he didn't recognize the area, but it looked like a nicer part of town than they usually frequented. "hospital, your dumbass needs stiches," johnny grumbled, nodding his head just up the road, "almost there,"

he knew it was necessary, could still feel the blood trickling out of the cut on his forehead, but he hated hospitals. hated how cold they were, how they reeked of death and rubbing alcohol. he was too lightheaded to protest by that point, letting the boys walk him into the waiting room, plopping him down in a plastic chair and going to sign him in. he dozed off sometime in the process, and came to in an evening brighter room, blinking and struggling to focus his eyes.

when he did, he coulda sworn there was an angel standing over him, and it briefly crossed his mind that maybe he'd died in that waiting room. "there you are," you smiled down at him, your voice like music in his ears, "how you feelin'?" you weren't an angel, he reasoned with himself, you were just the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen, all dressed in white. a nurses' uniform, he finally realized as he got his bearings, looking you over. "like hell," he mumbled, reaching up to press a hand to his throbbing head.

"don't touch your stitches," you fussed, gently putting his arm back down, "what d'you need? got you on a pain drip and fluids, but i can up your dosage," "can i just have some water? throat's dry," he asked, smiling faintly as you quickly filled a little paper cup, placing it in his hand carefully. "so you ride?" you asked, busying yourself adjusting his medication. "not really," he shrugged slightly, "why?" "vandal's brought you in here. had to take off, but they left a number in case you needed them,"

"mm," he hummed, "yeah, i'm writin' a book about them," "writers get bashed over the head a lot?" you asked, smiling slightly, like you knew some sort of a secret. "not usually," he laughed as much as he could manage, "rough night, i s'pose," "well you oughta be careful," you tsk'd, "don't wanna have to see you back in here, mkay?"

god, he wanted to see you again, regardless of where it was. "my shift is over, so i'm gonna hand you off to another nurse, alright? you'll be discharged soon, though. you're all rested up," "wait-" he tried to sit up, wincing, "what if i wanted to see you again?"

"are you flirtin' with me, mr. lyon?" there was a glint in your eye, or maybe he really was losing it, and a small, teasing smile on your lips. "yeah," he nodded, "yeah, i am. do i gotta get myself checked back in here just to see ya?" "i bet you talk to all the girls like that," you grinned, jotting something down, "i could get in trouble for this, yknow. but you're sweet," you passed him the paper, ten digits scrawled out in pretty handwriting. "atta girl," he smiled up at you, holding onto the paper like he'd lose it, "i'll see you soon, then. not in the hospital this time,"

a week later, danny was dialing your number on the bars rotary phone, leaned against the counter with a giddy feeling buzzing in his veins. "hello?" you picked up on the third ring, voice sweet even through the phone. "hey, it's danny," he hoped he didn't sound too excited, "you busy tonight?"

an hour later, you were walking through the door of the vandal's bar, looking every bit out of place. "hey, sweetheart!" he called you over, trying not to focus too much on how fucking gorgeous you looked, your hair down and your skirt short. "danny, hey," you smiled up at him, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear, "looks like you healed up good,"

"thanks to you," he grinned, "what's your drink?" "mm, shirley temple?" "that's fittin," he teased, leading you back behind the bar as he mixed your drink, watching as you looked around. you were too sweet for this place, he thought distantly, too clean and bright eyed. it was good you had him, the guys would've been all over you if you'd come here alone. "thought you were just a writer," you gestured toward the new leather jacket over his t shirt, "they just give those to anybody?"

"ah, they gave it to me after that fight," he shrugged it off like it hadn't been one of the most important moments in his life this far, "that bother you?" "mm, maybe i like it," your tone was light, teasing, but your eyes were tracing over every detail, the way the leather clung to his arms, his name stitched into the fabric. "you like bad boys, sweetheart?" he grinned, "wouldn't have guessed that,"

you wanted to tell him you didn't care if he was good or bad, you just hadn't been able to get him out of your mind since that night in the hospital. you downed the rest of your drink just to keep yourself busy, and gain some confidence, before wrapping a hand around his arm, pulling him to where some of the other guys were dancing with their girls, "dance with me?"

the two of you stayed out on the dance floor for what felt like hours, from slow dances and sultry glances to upbeat songs and giddy laughter, only pausing to down more drinks. "you know when i first saw you, i thought you were an angel," he mumbled in your ear as you swayed against him, his hands on your waist, "thought i'd done gone to heaven," "must've been brain damage," you rolled your eyes, but your smile was ever present as you turned in his arms, wrapping your own around his neck, "do you talk to all the biker girls like this?" "just you, sweetheart," he leaned closer, his breath fanning over your lips, "prettiest thing i've ever seen,"

"you're drunk," you murmured, and a small laugh left his lips, his hands tightening on your hips, "maybe, but when i'm sober you'll still be fuckin' beautiful," "god, you're good this," you said softly before pulling him down to your height, crashing your lips to his. he encircled you in his arms, picking you up slightly, a giggle muffled between your lips as you clung to him.

sweet kisses turned to breathless desperation, danny biting at your bottom lip just enough to pull the sweetest sounds from you, your control slipping like you were the only two in the room. your hands settled in his hair, scratching at his scalp as he kissed your jaw, facial hair scratching at your skin slightly. "you wanna get outta here?" he asked, voice hoarse with need. "my roommates home," you sighed as he kissed the crook of your neck, "yours?" "i stay with the guys, sleep on the couch," he nearly groaned from frustration, biting the inside of his cheek as you ran your fingernails over his scalp once again.

"d'you trust me, sweet girl?" he hummed, trailing his hand down your back. "mhm," you nodded eagerly, squealing as he picked you up, your legs wrapped tight around his torso. he led you across the bar to the farthest bathroom, kicking the door open and kissing you feverishly as he rested you on the sink, closing the door behind you. you pulled off his jacket, never letting your lips leave his, looping your legs around him to pull him closer. "eager thing," he teased, pulling away to pull off his t shirt, his fingers finding the zipper of your dress.

he let it fall to the floor, kicking it away, fumbling with the buckle of his belt as he kissed you desperately, pushing his jeans to the floor without ever pulling away from you. he felt like he’d die if he stopped, like you’d disappear, like it was all too good to be true. “tell me how you want it, baby,” he pulled away to trace his lips over the shell of your ear, “go on, tell me,”

“just want you to fuck me,” you reached for him, needing him everywhere all at once. “greedy little thing, ain’t ya?” he grinned, pulling you gently off the sink to turn you around, your back arched against him, “wanna watch while i fuck you, pretty girl?” you nodded eagerly, pressing against him, practically writhing for him already. “didn’t even touch you yet,” he teased, ghosting his fingertips down your spine, humming as you arched further into his hands, “bet you’re drippin’ for me, ain’t ya? bet you got the sweetest fuckin cunt,”

he pulled off your lacy underwear in one motion, letting out a low whistle as he looked you over, spreading your thighs apart as much as he could. “goddamn,” he murmured, leaning over you, pressing kisses to your exposed shoulders. he pulled his boxers down, pausing just to admire you for one more moment before trailing the head of his cock through your folds, rubbing it over your clit. you whined beneath him, your eyes rolling back at the feeling. “knew you’d be soaked,” he exhaled shakily, watching as he ran his length down your core again, unable to tear his eyes away, “so fuckin’ pretty, baby, yknow that? fuckin’ perfect,”

he held one of your hips with his free hand as he lined himself up, watching your reaction in the mirror as he slowly fucked into you, your swollen lips parting and big eyes rolled back into your head. “oh, danny,” you gasped as he filled you as deep as he could go, his cock brushing your sweet spot. “i know it, angel,” he murmured, “feel so good around me, so wet f’me,”

he grabbed a handful of your hair, just hard enough to pull you up off the sink as he slowly thrust back into you, your reactions only making him harder. “you want me to fuck you slow, pretty baby?” he asked, sucking at a spot on your neck as he held you there, “or you want me to fuck you hard, hm? talk to me,” “whatever you want,” you managed, clenching around him, thighs shaking, “wanna be good f’you, danny, please,” that sent him over the edge, a groan leaving his lips as he secured one hand in your hair, the other on your hip, fucking into you fast and rough.

you bounced back against him, greedy as ever, a moaning mess. “atta fuckin girl,” he panted, watching as you fucked yourself on his cock, “come on, baby, what a greedy thing,” he watched in the mirror as you looked up at him with watery eyes, blissed out, babbling about how good it felt, repeating his name like a mantra. “i know it, sweet thing,” he hummed, “you gettin close, hm?” you nodded eagerly, and he snaked his arm around your waist, the pad of his fingertips circling your clit as he fucked you. that nearly sent you over the edge, a gasp tearing itself from your throat as you clenched around him tighter, moaning wildly. “come on, baby, come for me,” he grunted, his teeth scraping against your shoulder, “so close,”

you sank your teeth into your lip as you came, shaking against him, his hand soaked between your thighs as he watched in awe. he came soon after, gripping your hair tighter, desperate for release but never wanting the moment to end. “such a good girl,” he moaned into your neck, “tell me you want it, baby,” “fill me up, danny, please,” you practically mewled, legs almost giving out from your orgasm, “please,”

he held you close against his chest as he came, his hands all over you, grabbing anywhere he could as he rode out his high, pumping you full. “good god,” he panted, still inside you, looking at the two of you over your shoulder, “you see how pretty you look stuffed full, angel? so perfect,” he trailed his fingers all over your chest, grinning as you clenched around him when he tweaked your nipple between two fingers, “you still want more, hm? or you all done?”

“done,” you whined, “too much, danny,” “poor baby,” he tsk’d, pulling out of you slowly, “you gonna let me go down on you next time? bet you taste so fuckin good,” “you can do whatever you want,” you smiled hazily, all starry eyed and fucked out as you gazed up at him. “mm, we’ll see,” he laughed softly, pulling you to his chest and pressing a kiss to the top of your head, “i’ll help you get cleaned up,”

[pinkaditty]

snippet bc im so tired (perv!haku x reader)

ok i wanted 2 finish it 2day butttttt my body is screaming at me 2 go 2 bed. and i need 2 pack 4 a beach trip so. yea. i should go 2 bed.

anyways i hope i post it 2mrw or the day after but in the meantime please consume and enjoy this little snippet of the perv!haku fic im writing bc my mutual aya filled my dashboard with his recent perverted activities.

context is that u and haku were caught in the rain as he was walking u back 2 ur dorm. enjoy!

“I hope you don’t invite just any guy over when you’ve got your clothes lying around like that.” Haku jokes, scuffing his shoes against the wooden floor. A wry smile twists his face again, and his gaze flickers from you to where you hid the hamper. “Some of them might get the wrong idea, you know.” With the way his gaze fixates on you as he says that, you are almost inclined to believe that was a warning against him specifically. You suppress a shiver and blink at him curiously instead, smiling amusedly.

“Well, I know I can trust you!” You turn away, heading towards a closet to collect some towels for the two of you. “You’re my favorite ghoul.”

You grab two white towels and shuffle back to Haku, noticing he seems rather stiff and wide-eyed. He clicks his tongue as he regains his relaxed composure, smirking at you as though he were fine moments ago. “You say that to all the ghouls I bet.” He chuckles.

“No, just you.” You’re standing rather close to Haku, using your own towel to dry off your hair. You’re uncomfortably aware of how your uniform sticks to your body. It makes you shiver, holding the towel tight against your neck. When you look up again, Haku’s gaze snaps upwards to meet yours. You were sure he’d been looking at your chest just now, but maybe you’re overthinking it. “I know I’m technically not allowed favorites,” you start, a teasing smile growing on your face, “but you’ve been so kind. How could you not be my favorite?” You smile cheerily at him before stepping back and focusing on drying your hair, relieving yourself from some of the stagnant chill of the rapidly cooling water. 

Instead of painstakingly attempting to dry your uniform blazer, you decide to try and peel it off. You’ve barely managed to shrug it off your shoulders before you turn back to Haku. He jumps slightly, his gaze flickering to your face, as though he’d been in a trance. “You should take off your wet blazer, too. You’ll still catch a cold if you keep wet clothes on.” 

You turn away and struggle with your blazer a bit more, the sleeves and back insistently stuck to your skin thanks to the rain. Haku laughs behind you, and you hear approaching footsteps. “You know princess, I am always down to help you undress.” His voice lowers in tone by a few notes. You shiver as a warm hand settles on your shoulder. Even warmer breath curls around your ear and you fight the urge to shiver again. “All you have to do is ask.” You can almost feel his lips brushing against the shell of your ear, but choose to ignore it, letting him take hold of one of the sleeves of your blazer.

--------

yea its short i knowwwwwwwwww im disappointed in myself too. i promise im working on it. please feel free 2 motivate me orsomething. writing this has been cathartic i feel rejuvenated and sucked dry at the same time. ok goodnight

[kittyykattxoxo]

masterpiece (part 3)

pairing : damian priest x rhea ripley

summary : after a night out, rhea and damian decide to cross the line that they've never crossed before. will they end up regretting it, or realize maybe they should've been doing it all along?

word count : 1483

content warning : this chapter is just pure, sweet aftercare between our babies <3

As the warm water continued to cascade down on them, Damian became aware of just how exhausted the woman clinging to him was. She’d practically given up standing on her own, depending completely on Damian to hold her up as she buried her face into his chest. Damian held on to her tightly, one arm securely wrapped around her waist while the other began to gently caress her back, his large hand moving in slow, comforting circles. 

“You okay, princesa?” he asked softly, his voice filled with concern.

Rhea replied with a soft hum, honestly too spent at this point to form words, opting instead to bury her face deeper into his chest, her breathing slow and heavy, her body utterly pliant against him. 

“Shit,” Damian muttered as the realization hit him. He could feel the slight tremor in her muscles, the way her limbs refused to cooperate, her complete lack of strength. He’d never seen Rhea like that before, but then again he’d never had a woman able to take him three times in the span of one night before either. 

“Hey, I got you baby,” he soothed, his voice low and gentle, no longer rough and full of lust. He reached over with a free hand, grabbing the nearby wash cloth and shifting Rhea around in his arms. The shower luckily had a seat built in and he slowly moved her toward it, slowly lowering her. As he moved to grab the hotel body wash, she whined in protest, weakly grabbing onto his wrist, not wanting to be apart from him. 

“Shh, it’s okay, princesa,” he spoke, pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead. “Just gonna get you cleaned up, ok?”

Rhea let out a small, sleepy sigh, but her grip fell from his wrist as she allowed him to step back. Her eyes were heavy-lidded, threatening to close, but she watched through a sleepy haze as Damian applied soap to the wash cloth and then moved back, kneeling down and beginning to carefully run the cloth over her body. He started with her neck, going slow as he admired all the marks he left on her skin, before slowly moving down, taking tender care to be thorough but gentle with the exhausted Rhea, completely opposite of the way he’d been dominating her just a moment ago. His large hands, previously rough and relentless, were now tender and reverent as he took his time, making sure to clean every inch. 

“Still with me, princesa?” he asked softly, reaching up to brush a few wet strands of hair from her face.

Rhea’s lips curled into a lazy, sated smile. “Mmmm, barely” she managed to murmur, her voice soft and laced completely with exhaustion. 

Damian let out a soft chuckle, his eyes full of warmth as he reached out to brush a hand over her thigh before parting them carefully. He grabbed a spare wash cloth, just wetting this one, and began to clean between her legs, wiping away the remnants of their pleasure. Rhea let out a small, whimpering sigh at the sensitive, but his touch was so tender and gentle that she relaxed back against the wall. “Just cleaning you up, baby, almost done,” he spoke, returning the soapy washcloth to his grasp as he stood up, leaning over her and scrubbing gently at the skin on her back. Once he’d finished he tossed it aside again and lifted her up, holding Rhea under the warm water to rinse the soap from her body, assisting with his hands. “There we go, good girl. Cmon, let’s get you in bed” he murmured, reaching around her and turning off the shower, bringing the warm spray to a stop. He shifted Rhea in his arms afterwards, assisting her in wrapping her legs around his waist as he carried her out of the shower, her damp skin pressed around his, her arms loosely draped around his neck and her entire body melting into his hold. 

Damian paused to lower her onto the bathroom counter, her thighs draped lazily over the edge as he reached for one of the plush hotel towels on the rack. Slowly, Damian patted her as dry as he possibly could, pressing a soft and slow kiss to her lips as he finished up just to make sure she was still there. 

Once she was as dry as he could manage, he reached for another fresh towel and wrapped it around her, making sure she kept warm and snug. He quickly dried himself off as well, though not as carefully as he’d been with Rhea, wrapping a towel around his waist once he’d finished. Then, without a word, he scooped her back into his arms and carried her into the bedroom.

The sheets on the bed were still rumpled from their earlier activities, but Damian didn’t care. He carefully lowered Rhea onto the bed, removing Rhea’s towel and adjusting the blankets for her. Her eyes fluttered closed the moment her head hit the pillow, eager to get to sleep.

But Damian wasn’t done with her yet. 

He disappeared into the bathroom for a moment, returning with a bottle of lotion. Climbing beside her on the bed, he pumped some of the lotion onto his hands before rubbing them together to warm it and began slowly smoothing it over her skin. He massaged her calves and thighs first, his large hands working out the lingering tension, before moving up to her hips, pressing his thumbs into the muscles while trying to avoid where he’d obviously bruised earlier.

“Papi…” she murmured sleepily, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah, princesa?” he replied softly, leaning down to ghost his lips across her spine. 

Rhea’s eyes remained closed, her voice a sleepy mumble. “You’re too good to me…”

A soft, loving chuckle rumbled in Damian’s chest. He moved to press a kiss to her knee, then her hip, then her stomach, working his way slowly up her body.

“Never,” he whispered against her skin. “You deserve all of it, princesa. Especially with how well you took me tonight.”

Once he was done massaging her, Damian put the lotion back and dropped his own towel, slipping into the bed beside her. Without hesitation, Rhea immediately curled into him, seeking out his warmth. Damian pulled the blankets around them, cocooning her in the plush covers before his arms wrapped securely around her, one hand stroking her hair while the other placed slow, lazy circles on her back. 

Rhea let out a soft, content sigh, her face nuzzling into his chest, her breath growing slow and heavy. The warmth of Damian’s skin, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, and the gentle caress of his hands beginning to lull her over the edge of her sleepy haze. 

“Papi…” she mumbled softly, her voice once again slurred with sleep. 

“Yes, baby?” he whispered back, his voice low and velvety.

“Love you..” she murmured sleepily, her voice so soft it was almost lost against his chest. 

Damian’s breath hitched slightly, his chest tightening at her words. It wasn’t like they hadn’t said it before - Rhea was his best friend in the entire world, she’d said it to him more times than he could count, but this time it came with a new feeling. They’d crossed a line that they’d never crossed before, getting lost in each other’s bodies, but there wasn’t an ounce of Damian that was regretting it.

He tilted her chin up slightly, his heart swelling with warmth as he tenderly placed a kiss to her forehead, then her nose, and then her lips. “I love you too, princesa” he whispered against her mouth. 

Rhea managed a faint smile, but that was all she could muster as she quickly buried her face into his chest again, her body going and limp and relaxed against him as she finally drifted into a deep, contented sleep. 

Damian stared at her for a long moment, brushing a few strands of her still damp hair from her face. She looked so peaceful - so soft and vulnerable in his arms. This was a side of Rhea that, even as her best friend, he’d never seen before. She’d always tried to appear tough, even to him, so being able to see her like this told him that things between them had surely shifted. His eyes traced every curve of her face, memorizing every line just in case she woke up in the morning and regretted everything. 

After several moments, he let out a soft sigh of content, pressing one last lingering kiss to her temple before burning his face in her hair. Damian let the warmth of her body and the steady rhythm of her breathing lull him into sleep, holding Rhea close and secure in his arms.

And for the first time in a long time, Damian found himself feeling completely and utterly at peace.

[noforkingclue]

Hey, ya. I have got a bucky Barnes x reader idea which I would like to share (i can't remember if I have already sent this in, but if I did, then I apologise) may i please request a Bucky Barnes x reader where they are fighting loki and Loki uses the dialogue "How will your friends have time for me, when they're so busy fighting you!" He then goes to use the chittari/mind stone sceptre on the reader, but bucky pushes the reader out of the way and now the reader has to fight a mind controlled bucky and try and break the mind control. Prehaps if you like the fight can awaken powers hidden within the reader.

Please of course feel free to edit as much as you want, sorry if this is too detailed. I hope you have a great day.

Note: requests are currently closed

So I didn't directly specify Loki in this, just that Bucky was under some sort of mind control. Hope that's ok and you like the fic!

Title: Trusting You

Warnings: choking, Bucky's self doubt about being the Winter Soldier

Of course you had heard all the stories about Him. Sam, and even Steve before he disappeared, had warned you about Him. Of course you had managed to see some of the footage and you would be lying if you had said that you weren’t scared.

The Winter Solider was really fucking terrifying.

But you wouldn’t have to deal with Him. No more trigger words to bring out the Winter Soldier. All you had to deal with was Bucky and he was interesting. Not in a bad way, definitely not, but it was strange finally meeting him. You were expecting someone different and not someone so… damaged.

The two of you got on surprisingly well. Once the initial awkward introductions were out of the way that is. You found him oddly charming, in his own weird way. You even tried to help him get to grips with the modern world. You could see the knowing looks Sam gave you which you pointedly ignored. No, you certainly did not have a crush on James ‘Bucky’ Barners.

Absolutely not.

No way.

No.

The two of you were just friends. That’s it. Friends.

Which made what you were doing right now all the more difficult.

“Fuck!”

You dodged out of the way of Bucky’s swing just in the nick of time. It was one thing seeing old footage of him like this and a completely different thing seeing it in the flesh. Sam swooped down at Bucky but this time it was Bucky that dodged. Sam lifted you into his arms and carried you to safety.

“I thought you said he was ok,” you panted, “that he wasn’t like this anymore.”

“He was,” said Sam, setting you down, “but that was before we ran into someone who could fucking alter people’s minds.”

The two of you looked over at Bucky.

“We can’t let this get out,” you said, “if the authorities found out-”

“It’ll be a shit show.”

“Yeah. Well, you know him better. What do we do?”

“You tried talking to him?”

You gave Sam a disbelieving look.

“I’m not a fucking shrink!” you hissed, “and you tried that and it didn’t work. Why do you think that I would have any luck?”

“Because it’s you.”

You felt your cheeks heat up at Sam’s words. He was giving you that Look again. The knowing one that said far too much which you didn’t like.

“I don’t-”

You were cut off by Bucky taking another punch at you. Sam and you split into different directions and you rolled away. Bucky turned to you and you held your hands up.

“Buck, listen, it’s me-”

You jumped out of the way.

“This isn’t you,” you continued desperately, “this isn’t the you I know. I know you’re fighting this. I know you-”

Bucky’s metal hand suddenly curled around your throat. You were aware of Sam shouting your name and instinctively you slammed your fist against Bucky’s head. In a flash he let you go and you sunk to the floor, taking in large gulps of air. You heard Sam land next to you and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. You glanced up at Bucky and could see his eyes clear.

“Buck-”

Before you could finish your sentence Bucky practically ran away. You shut your eyes and rested your head against Sam’s chest.

“Fuck.”

*

It was days until you saw Bucky again. You knew he was avoiding you and it pissed you off (even though you understood why). You decided to wait up one night, nursing a cup of tea and waiting for him to come into the kitchen. When Bucky saw you sitting at the kitchen table he froze before turning to leave.

“Wait.”

Bucky froze, metal hand curling around the doorframe.

“We need to talk.” you said softly

“We don’t.”

“Please Bucky,” you said desperately, “I can’t stand this any more. Please, just talk to me.”

For a moment you thought that Bucky was going to leave. Then he sighed and turned around and sat down. For a few torturous seconds neither of you spoke then he said,

“I hurt you.”

“I had worse.”

Bucky glanced up at your bruised neck and quickly looked away again.

“All this has shown is that he will always be a part of me,” he said, “no matter how hard I try I will always be the Winter Soldier. I’m too dangerous to be around. If you hadn’t-”

He cut himself off and frowned.

“How did you stop me?”

“I’m not entirely sure,” you admitted, “Sam think that maybe I have some,” you waved a hand, “mutant power that got unlocked. But right now, that’s not important.”

Bucky raised his eyebrows at your casual dismissal of your potential powers.

“What matters,” you continued, “is that this wasn’t you.”

“I-”

“Had your mind altered,” you said, “you were under mind control. It wasn’t you.”

Bucky sighed and looked down at his hands. He linked his fingers and grimaced at your words. You reached forward and grabbed his hand, grabbing his metal hand by coincidence. Bucky looked up, clearly shocked by the action and tried to pull away. Immediately you tightened your grip on it.

“I hurt you-” he started

“You didn’t,” you said, “not the person I know and I-” you felt your cheeks get hot and looked away before you revealed too much, “I have faith in and I trust.”

You and Bucky locked gazes and there was so much unsaid in that gaze. You smiled softly at him again and this time, Bucky returned it. Maybe, just maybe, things would begin moving in a more positive direction.

[joeloverture]

whist i get what you are saying about confederate flag, why is it deemed completely okay to write about joel saying that he would have fucked his 15 year old daughter given the chance. this isn’t trying to be hateful, i’m just genuinely curious

okay hi! thank you for being sane about this and actually approaching from a place of wanting to widen your scope. id direct you to @whataperfectwasteoftime for more on the confederate flag stuff. they made a well developed post on that for a much more aggressive version of this ask.

im sure u can guess what’s under the cut so heed any triggers you may have and put u first.

i want to make something clear here that i previously haven’t. i don’t think this fic belonged on tumblr. it’s ambiguous in its TOS whether its actually a violation or not, but since tumblr operates in areas where writing csa is illegal, it was never meant to be here in the first place. ao3? sure. whatever. but this is stirring things up because it was in an unexpected place. tumblr has more rules whereas ao3 is the scarcely contained Wild West of fanfic.

furthermore — i wouldn’t say it’s completely okay. these things have nuance. i read the fic, because I saw something like this coming from down the road considering the fandom climate. i do think the fic was stylistically written in a way that was self aware of the characters mutual destruction of each other. i also think it was intentionally inflammatory in some ways. however, everything was adequately tagged. people were free to move on if it caused discomfort, which i also want to make clear is a normal feeling. whether it be interacting with eroticized fanfiction or fiction in general, it is an inherently uncomfortable feeling sometimes! it’s up to us to determine what agitates our personal limits. i don’t think others should be held responsible for our consumption. what joel said in that fic was repulsive. it was meant to be! i also want to reiterate here that darkfic isn’t for me. dark fiction, though? that’s my shit — and i don’t mean dark romance or a little life, but the same theory can apply to those.

if we begin to crack down on eroticized fanfiction, the terminology they use will bleed into other areas of literature. suddenly the language used to describe a minor in an erotic work (and trust me, the thought of this does nauseate me — emphasis on this not being for me) is forbidden in a work that is raising awareness or telling a story. these may seem like far jumps, but loopholes like this exist everywhere in the law. it is why worries about rights to privacy emerged during roe v wade. especially with the right, famously laden with pedos and their enablers, they will pretend to be protecting people by silencing any dubious erotic work, then trans and queer voices (notice how they are constantly called pedos), and then real csa stories will be suppressed so they can get away with more.

id direct you to a pending law in tx, in which any obscene depiction of a minor or someone who looks like one. (senate bill 20)

big win, right?

nope. it’s far too up to interpretation at the prosecutorial level. scotus actually deemed this unconstitutional in 2003.

it is legal to marry a child in texas. these lawmakers use fiction as their scapegoat to avoid the moral consequences of actions they participate in. laws like this may start at the level of, say, anime or manga. but it very rapidly will spread to appropriate television, art, etc that depicts trans and queer people. and even beyond that.

i worry where this goes. if we don’t speak up now, who will speak up for us when they come for us? because they will.

additionally, fiction ≠ reality. this is an important distinction. fiction can be a powerful tool to explore what we fear, what we have experienced, and what we wish would happen. i cannot police what others do. only what i write and how i respond to their words.

[elliespuns]

Joel's always asking for "just one more kiss, darlin'". Sometimes he's late for patrol or his shift at the site because he kept asking for one more kiss, one more kiss... he never regrets it tho. Getting more kisses from you is always worth the scolding he gets from Maria or Tommy. Even if you try to get him to go, telling him "you're gonna be late, Joel! we can kiss more later, my love", he'll still ask for "one more kiss, please, baby".

You laugh, your eyes crinkling at the corners. "Okay, maybe one more kiss, mister. But then you've gotta go, no take-backs."

Joel grins, his fingers curling into the fabric of your shirt as he tugs you closer. "Deal." He dips his head, capturing your mouth in a deep, searching kiss. His lips mold to yours, firm and insistent, sending sparks of heat dancing through your veins. You melt into him, breath hitching as his tongue delves past your parted lips to taste you.

Time seems to lose all meaning as you lost yourselves in each other. You are dimly aware of of the time, signaling he is long past due to head out. But Joel pays it no mind, too busy savoring you. His free hand skates up your side, blunt nails scraping lightly and raising goosebumps in their wake.

"Mmm, Joel..." You manage breathlessly against his mouth. "You're really going to be late now, baby. They're gonna kill you."

"So be it." He mumbles, nipping at your bottom lip. "I'd rather stay here kissing you all day."

You roll your eyes, even as your heart flutters at the devotion in his words. Damn him and his sweet talk.

"Come on, love. Duty calls and all that jazz." You tease, reluctantly putting some space between your bodies. "You can't slack off work on my account."

Joel sighs dramatically, but let you go after one last quick peck. "Fine, fine. But only because I know I'll get to come home to you later."

He punctuates that with a wicked wink before bending to grab his backpack and rifle. You walk him to the door, hands linked between you.

"I'll see you tonight then." You say softly, looking up at him through your lashes. "Be safe out there, okay? Don't let the howlers get you."

"You know I will, darlin'." He taps your nose playfully. "I've gotta come back to my girl."

[melanieph321]

SEVEN DAYS OF REQUESTS 4.0

(DAY 6)

Ruben Dias x Reader - The Divorce Part 3/3

+18

Part 1 Part 2

Ruben dias cheats on his girlfriend and she leaves him and takes their child with her and he is left in shambles.

Enjoy!

"The day that you told me that you were pregnant, I had no words for how happy I was. I was going to be a dad, and we were going to be a family. But It didn't take me long to realize that I had no idea how to be a father, and everyday that I failed to give you and Luna what you needed, what you deserved, I went deeper and deeper into myself, doubting my worth as your husband."

"I was a coward for taking the easy way out, for falling for what seemed to be a quick fix to my problems. Instead of looking into myself, I looked outwards, searching for something, someone who could make me feel like I was enough."

"Ruben I—."

"Don't get me wrong, I am not blaming you for what I did whatsoever. God knows you were never the blame. You were perfect, my beautiful wife."

"Ruben." He didn't let you reach for him, and so you sat with your hands in your lap, not bothering to wipe away your tears. Ruben was crying too. However, it seemed to hurt him more than it did for you. Nevertheless, he was determined to keep going, to keep telling you the truth.

"Every time I cheated on you, a part of me died, mainly because I understood what that look in your eyes meant every time that I stepped out of that door. I know that I had lost your trust a long time back. However, in my mind, I thought I had lost it the day you gave birth to Luna. I truly believe that you could tell that I wasn't cut out to be a dad. That you wished that it had been anybody but me holding your hand in that hospital room."

"Oh, Ruben."

He pulled away, not ready for you to touch him yet. "I'm sorry." He sniffled, looking shameful in his tears.

"It's okay. I forgive you."

He shook his head. "I don't deserve it. I don't deserve you."

"Well, I'm not going anywhere, so I guess you'll have to deal with it."

His eyes batted obliviously, not trusting his own ears. "So…so you don't want me to take you to the courthouse."

You shook your head, leaning forward  in your seat. "I want you to take me home and show me how sorry you are."

Ruben perked up in his seat, a sudden awareness in his eyes. "Y…You want me to—."

You bit into your lip, nodding your head slowly.

Ruben's throat moved when he swallowed, and it dawned on you with the way his eyes shifted from your face to your lips that there was no way that the two of you were making it home. 

For the first time in the duration of your relationship, Ruben seemed hesitant to make the first move. He watched you in the passenger seat, leaning forward to meet his lips. It was a light peck, an innocent kiss that might as well have been a brush of a feather.

"Y/N, I don't—."

"Just shut up and fuck me."

You unbuckled your seatbelt and fell into his lap. Ruben caught you in his arm, his hands trailing up your thighs while his head tilted to meet your lips. It was pure passion, two lovers reuniting. Although it had been a minute since your last time, you and Ruben found your way back to each other with every touch and every taste.

"I love you." He groaned when your jacket was halfway down your shoulders, and your skirt rolled up all they way over your hips. "I love you so fucking much, Y/N."

You hymned in response, too eager with your hands on his belt, struggling to free the bulge that was growing beneath. Ruben's mouth detached from your neck to help you, unbuckling his belt and raising his hips to slide down his jeans, exposing his full-fledged erection.

"You don't have to—-."

"Oh, shut up."

You wasted no time mounting him. Ruben's hands went to your hips to help you ride him slowly. 

"Fuck."

Your walls twitched around his stem, a slight pain considering how long it had been since the two of you had sex.  Ruben moaned your name as you heaved yourself up and down, riding his cock in the front seat of his car.

"Just like that baby, not too fast." His hands slid down, slapping against your ass cheeks, caressing the shape of you before slipping under to feel the wetness below.

"No." You gasped in panic. "You'll make me come too fast."

His laugh in your ear was evil. It told you that he had no intentions to stop rubbing circles over your clit. It made you squint your eyes in pain, your head falling back, knocking against the steering.

"Just like that baby, keep riding me while you come."

Profound sounds escaped your mouth. You were on the verge of bursting open, but something told you that Ruben wanted just that. "Come for me, baby. Let yourself go for me."

It was all too much. Your hands reached up, grabbing a hold of Ruben's shoulders. You wanted to enjoy this together with him and used the last of your strength to ride him hard and fast.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." He came in a heartbeat, taking you with him.

"Oh god."

It was a moment of bliss, the two of you, back in each other's arms.

"Fuck in hell, Y/N." Ruben wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing you frimley against him, his dick still hard and inside of you. "If you ever think of leaving me again, just know that it won't be possible."

"Why is that?" You grinned.

He raised his head, struggling to catch his breath, his pupils large and enchanted.  "Because this is how we'll be from now, glued together, cock and pussy, hard against soft. I'm never leaving you again."

The End

Part 1

Part 2

[3000-200-grains-of-salt]

and now: a list of fake reasons etho tells people when they ask why he wears his mask

- thats just my face

- what mask?

- the true form of my lower face would drive you to madness

- im just really ugly

- curse of binding

- embarrassing sunburn

- The oath

- made a bet

- lost a bet

- i actually dont have a lower face. the mask stops things from floating into the Void

- stops leaks

- the canadian government makes me wear this

- why arent you wearing one?

- new fashion trend. im 30 years ahead of the curve.

- MY POSITION HAS BEEN COMPROMISED, ABORT ABORT *runs away*

- it tells me the stock prices

- i volunteered for clinical trial 9 years ago

- im allergic to air

- um, same reason you're wearing pants

- bad habit

- it stops me from killing

- wait, i'm still wearing it? i havent noticed lol.

- it gives me like 6 armor points

- i was raised by ninjas

- i was social distancing before it was cool

- for honor

- no one can know what i look like

- so the aliens cant read my brainwaves

- so the government cant find me

- my teacher caught me chewing gum once. it will never happen again

- so no one sees the straw from my drink helmet

- the bit

- i actually dont really like wearing it. i do it to uphold my reputation

- i just realized... i can forge my own path! do whatever i want to do! i dont have to stand in anyone's shadow and wear this anymore! i'm free!

- slight advantage in pvp. they cant predict my next move if they cant see my subtle facial expressions

- i'm built different. better. being able to breathe properly made pvp too easy. the mask limits the supply of bloodflow to my brain to be on par with everyone else. if i were allowed to reach my full potential i would far surpass the physical skills of every other person. the mask just evens it out.

- i am kakashi

- i kin kakashi

- between you and me im running from minecraft law. if any government officials ask, we didnt have this conversation, my name is richard l. sawman , and as far as you are aware etho s. labs died in Venezuela in 1993

- i cant let someone lick me again

- trust no one

- *gets really pale* you're not supposed to see that.

- there's a bug in the model.

- dont do drugs

- protest

- i tried getting mojang to fix it but they still havent responded to my letters

- aw man i just fixed that

- method acting

- sprained it

- it's just a really good tattoo

- this is what i was wearing when my wife left me at the altar. ive never moved on

- justin bieber stepped on it

- lucky

- im too beautiful

- the better question is how im wearing the mask

- what happened to "hello?"

- im not wearing the mask, the mask is wearing me

- dress code

- always read the terms and conditions

- i got it in the divorce

- it was this or the federal prison

- court-ordered

- i had NOTHING to do with those murders

- practicing

- i'm just better

- thats classified

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

Skelly has a neighbor thats a Karen and a neighbor that painted their house rainbow

They hate each other and often scream at each other

Undertale Sans - Sans likes to play the model little neighbour so his Karen neighbour trusts him, but then he's bitching with the other neighbor in her back and gives them material to get revenge. It's entertaining. Sans still wonders if he should paint his house rainbow out of nowhere just to see her reaction.

Undertale Papyrus - Papyrus is desperately trying to make them get along together, tricking them into improvised meals so they have no choice but to talk. He soon realizes it's going to be more complicated than he thought. At least he's never bored!

Underswap Sans - He couldn't care less, but he still keeps an eye on them as he's worried one of these days, they're going to do something stupid and get in trouble. He's trying to calm things down when their arguments are going a bit too far.

Underswap Papyrus - He's tired of hearing them scream under his window daily. Honey works at home, so it's difficult to focus when the neighbours are fighting all day. He's so pissed off that he actually snaps once or twice and screams at them to shut up from the window. He swears he's this close to calling Blue to arrest them for making too much noise.

Underfell Sans - Red loves chaos too much to not make things worse. When no one is looking, he's throwing dog poop on their windows or painting their alleys rainbows, then he runs home and goes to watch from the window, vibrating with excitement. He's an asshole.

Underfell Papyrus - Edge is a big Karen himself so he participates in the arguments lol. He doesn't even know why he hates them at this point; he just can't help it: he hates their guts. Both of them. And he's going to find any little excuse to go at their face. You think your worst enemy is the other neighbour? Wait until your bushes are poking out from two inches on his property.

Horrortale Sans - Their constant screaming is giving him headaches. Oak usually leaves when they start arguing, so he doesn't have to hear them, but sometimes, he has no choice. So Oak found a new solution that's very effective! He throws his axe by the window, straight between them, and watches with great satisfaction as they run away in fear, screaming at the top of their lungs. Finally, some peace.

Horrortale Papyrus - Willow is a big gossip and tries his best to stay discreet to not interrupt them. The thing is that Willow is also very expressive, and sometimes he can't help but gasp or go full googly eyes when one of them says something crazy, which kinda busts him every time, and then they all scream at him for listening to a conversation that doesn't concern him. Not that he cares about their complaints lol. He simply goes in his kitchen and opens the window to hear the rest of the argument. It's his favorite morning telenovella.

Swapfell Sans - He's not even hiding lol. Every morning, he goes to drink his coffee in front of the house to watch his daily dose of fun and angst. Sometimes, he comments on what's happening, which pisses off his neighbors, but it's not like you can just go at him and tell him to fuck off. He's literally a celebrity, you know. Nox absolutely is aware of the fact that they can't do anything to him and is having fun.

Swapfell Papyrus - He's making things worse. He's friend with both of them, and doesn't hesitate for one second to tell the other everything their neighbor did today, and amplify it a thousand times to see how they'll react. He could never get bored with it. His favorite moments are where they start to throw hands at each other; this way he can bet with random people on who's going to win and make free money.

Fellswap Gold Sans - Well, while they're fighting, they don't give him attention, and Wine hates when people are not giving him attention. So Wine always come to save the day and then gets praised by both his neighbours for always finding what to say to stop their arguments. What Wine doesn't tell them is that he sometimes starts the arguments himself when he's bored, but no one needs to know that. He's clearly the hero of the street.

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - Coffee doesn't like all the screaming, so he usually goes to play some video games to not hear them outside anymore. He's annoyed they're so loud he can't focus sometimes. He wishes he was confident enough to tell them to shut up, but he's not. So, uh, video games are fine.

[xyfanficarchive]

Do you think Jimmy would enjoy nude beaches? There's a little one by a river that I go to all the time and after reading your post about him learning to enjoy nature I think it would totally be his vibe.

Balls out, no fucks given, take a nap, go for a swim, start a fire, look at frogs, repeat.

Honestly, I can see it going either way... I think pre-recovery Jimmy is a very self conscious person you know, you can't really be so toxically envious unless you are really intensely aware of your own shortcomings in a negative way. So not only is there a bit of like, insecurity in his body and his appearance (and I really lean towards his dick being average in size so if he's just walking around flaccid it's not Huge like he's obviously not some hung beast) but there's also this sense of like, i feel like nude beaches get this sort of snickering reaction of titillation out of people right? He's worried about what people will think of him if they knew he was there...

Recovering Jimmy I think will still be hesitant at first but then he's there and like... it's fine. Literally nowhere more normal to be completely naked. Nobody's staring at him or judging him for the fact that he isn't 8 inches soft. And he's seen enough old man beer belly to nix any fear that his weightlifter physique isn't trim or muscular enough to be seen. And since he's loosened up so much I think he really comes to enjoy it! I mean, he can't remember a time since he was little where his bare ass has felt the warmth of the sun. I don't think he's too much of a swimmer, the cold shock is not often worth it to him, but I can see him snoozing on the beach... dick out, completely free. He looks so content. You know how I said he gets brown in the sun, well now he gets brown allll over. And he's certainly not complaining about seeing his partner nude in the full daylight either. All in all, a day of relaxing and napping nude in the sun and looking at the flora and fauna, warm by the fire in the evening, maybe a little weed involved, forgetting the pressures of living in a capitalist dystopia, he's absolutely blissed out <333

[movingmusically]

What Are Friends For? - Chapter 8

Word Count: 3.4k

Masterlist

I was aware of it immediately.

The change. The subtle but undeniable shift in our messages.

It wasn’t anything obvious. Nothing outright. But something was different.

Maybe it was the fact that I was checking my phone more often. Or the way my stomach did a stupid little thing whenever I saw his name light up my screen. Or the way our messages stretched longer—little back-and-forths that didn’t feel necessary, but neither of us seemed inclined to stop.

Austin: Hope you went with the pizza.

Me: Obviously. I’m not a monster.

Austin: Good. I was worried for a second.

Me: Can’t have you losing sleep over my dietary choices.

Austin: Too late. Been up all night, pacing.

Me: Tragic.

Austin: Truly.

It was nothing. It was nothing.

And yet.

By Wednesday, the shift had settled in like it had always been there.

It wasn’t just the messages anymore—it was how we texted. The gaps between replies had shrunk. The teasing was just a little sharper, the conversations stretching just a little longer. And somewhere between talking about work, making fun of Callum, and debating the moral implications of pineapple on pizza (wrong, obviously), I stopped pretending this wasn’t something.

Not something big. Not something I needed to do anything about.

But something.

And then, on Wednesday evening, right as I was getting home from work—

Austin: So when are you going to let me prove I’m better at pottery than you?

I blinked down at my screen.

It took me a second to remember what he was talking about—the conversation over brunch, when he’d mentioned the class and I’d said something cocky about how I’d probably be a natural.

I hesitated, my stomach giving an annoying little twist.

Me: Bold of you to assume I’d let you win.

Austin: Bold of you to assume you’d have a choice.

I snorted, shaking my head.

Me: When do you even have time for pottery?

Austin: Sundays.

Right. The only day they had off. The only day he wasn’t stuck up near Oxford in his little 1940s war bubble.

I hesitated.

Not because I didn’t want to go.

But because of what it was.

It wasn’t just grabbing a coffee or texting or hanging out at a party with other people around.

This was—

I swallowed.

Austin: You free this Sunday?

I was.

I also knew I could come up with an excuse if I wanted to. Something easy, something believable.

But I didn’t.

Me: Yeah.

Austin: Good. I’ll book it.

I hesitated for half a second too long.

Then—

Me: Just so we’re clear, I’m going to absolutely humiliate you.

Austin: Looking forward to it.

And just like that, I had plans.

Plans with Austin.

Plans that felt…

I ignored the thought before it could finish forming.

Thursday evening, Zara and I got dinner after work.

We’d fallen into an easy routine of grabbing food together every couple of weeks, usually after particularly exhausting days. Today was one of those days, and by the time we collapsed into a booth at our usual spot, I was already halfway through my first glass of wine.

Zara raised an eyebrow. “That kind of week?”

“You have no idea.” I sighed, swirling my glass. “Play rehearsals are almost over, and I want to throw myself out the nearest window. Half of them still don’t know their lines, one kid cried because he thinks the donkey role is ‘too embarrassing,’ and the twins playing the narrators got into a fistfight over who gets to stand in the middle.”

Zara winced. “Sounds promising.”

“Oh, it’s a masterpiece in the making,” I said dryly. “I’m thinking of just quitting and living in the woods.”

“Fair,” Zara said. Then, with a sly look, “Although, someone would miss you.”

I frowned. “What?”

She smirked. “I assume Austin would.”

My stomach dipped. “I—what? No.”

“Oh, come on,” she said, rolling her eyes. “You’ve been glued to your phone all week. I assumed it wasn’t just a particularly riveting work email.”

I scowled. “I hate that you notice things.”

“It’s my greatest skill.” She leaned in, chin resting on her hand. “So? What’s going on?”

I hesitated.

Because nothing was going on. Not really.

But…

I shifted in my seat. “We’ve just been texting.”

Zara made an unimpressed noise. “Define just.”

I pursed my lips. “It’s just—small stuff. Banter. Nothing serious.”

She arched an eyebrow.

I sighed. “Okay, fine. It’s been a lot.”

Zara grinned. “I knew it.”

I shook my head, stabbing a chip with unnecessary force. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“It doesn’t,” I insisted. “We’re just—”

Her eyes sparkled. “Go on.”

“He just—he doesn’t know a lot of people in London.”

Zara’s eyebrows lifted.

I ignored her and kept talking. “And he does this pottery class on Sundays, and he mentioned it before, and we were joking about it, and then he asked if I wanted to go.”

Zara’s lips curved. “And you said yes.”

I shoved another chip in my mouth. “It’s casual.”

Zara let out an amused breath, shaking her head. “Ange.”

“What?” I said defensively.

“You’re going to a pottery class together.”

I gave her a flat look. “So?”

She tilted her head. “So it’s a date.”

I let out an exasperated groan. “Jesus Christ.”

Zara just grinned.

I threw a chip at her. “It’s not a date.”

“Mmm.”

“It’s not.”

“Sure.”

I hesitated for a fraction too long.

And Zara, of course, pounced.

“Oh my God.” She grinned. “You like him.”

I let out an exasperated groan. “You’re worse than Callum.”

She smirked. “And you’re in denial.”

“It’s complicated.”

“Is it?”

“Yes,” I said, because it was. “He’s leaving when filming’s over. This whole thing—whatever it is—it’s temporary. I know that.”

Zara tilted her head. “And yet.”

I shot her a look. “And yet nothing.”

She smirked.

I sighed, slumping back in my seat. “I know nothing will happen. I know that. I just…” I ran a hand through my hair, voice dropping slightly. “I just don’t want to be stupid about it.”

Zara softened.

After a beat, she said, “What if it’s not stupid?”

I exhaled, staring down at my drink. “I don’t know.”

But wasn’t that the problem?

I knew I liked talking to him.

I knew I liked being around him.

And I knew that the longer this went on, the more dangerous it felt.

Zara didn’t push. Just watched me, waiting.

Then, after a beat—

“Come on, though. Are you excited?”

I opened my mouth. Closed it. Fiddled with my glass.

Zara smiled knowingly.

“Shut up,” I muttered, but I was smiling, too.

The days leading up to Sunday felt slow and fast all at once. I kept myself busy—work, errands, anything to stop my brain from running in circles. But no matter what I did, there was always this quiet hum in the back of my mind. The anticipation of Sunday. Of seeing him.

It was ridiculous, I told myself. It wasn’t a date. It was just pottery. Casual. Friendly. Not a big deal.

And yet, by the time Sunday morning rolled around, I found myself standing in front of my wardrobe longer than necessary, second-guessing everything. Trainers or boots? Hair up or down? Did it even matter?

In the end, I went for my usual—black jeans, a denim jacket, and my grey trainers. Comfortable, easy, not trying too hard. That was the vibe I was going for, anyway.

The walk to the pottery studio was peaceful, the spring air warm enough to make me shrug off my jacket halfway there. The streets were quieter than usual, the soft hum of the city waking up around me. By the time I arrived, I’d managed to convince myself—for the fifth time—that this wasn’t anything to be nervous about.

Austin was already there, leaning against the wall outside the studio, his long legs crossed at the ankles and his phone in his hand. He was wearing a light blue button-up with the sleeves rolled up and dark jeans, and the sunlight caught on his hair in a way that felt annoyingly cinematic.

My stomach flipped before I could stop it. What was wrong with me? This wasn’t a date. It wasn’t. But the easy smile that spread across his face when he looked up at me made it very hard to remember that.

“Hey,” he said, sliding his phone into his pocket.

“Hey,” I replied, trying to keep my voice casual.

He held the door open for me, and we stepped into the studio together. The space was warm and inviting, with big windows letting in the sunlight and shelves lined with half-finished clay pieces. The air smelled faintly earthy, like damp stone and wet clay.

The instructor welcomed us and handed out aprons, which I immediately struggled to tie. The strings were longer than expected, and I fumbled with them, muttering under my breath.

“Need help?” Austin asked, already tying his own with ease.

“No,” I said quickly, finally managing to secure it. “I’ve got it.”

He smirked, clearly unconvinced, but said nothing.

Once we were set up at our wheels, the instructor gave us a quick demonstration. Austin took to it immediately, his hands shaping the wet clay with a confidence that made me wonder if he was showing off. I, on the other hand, struggled to keep the lump of clay from wobbling off centre. My hands were covered in the stuff within minutes, and my first attempt at a bowl collapsed into what could only be described as an unfortunate pancake.

“You’re supposed to make it look difficult,” I muttered, shooting him a glare.

He glanced over, lips twitching as he fought back a laugh. “You’re supposed to keep it on the wheel.”

“Oh, is that how this works? Thank you, sensei.” I swiped a bit of clay from my apron and flicked it in his direction. It landed on his arm, and his mock expression of betrayal nearly had me doubled over laughing.

As the hour went on, I started to get the hang of it. The feel of the clay beneath my fingers, the steady hum of the wheel—it was oddly soothing. I glanced at Austin’s station and immediately regretted it. His hands moved confidently, shaping the clay into something smooth and symmetrical.

I tried not to stare. Tried not to notice the way his long fingers curled around the clay, strong but precise, guiding it into place like it was the easiest thing in the world. There was something oddly hypnotic about it, and for a brief, mortifying moment, I wondered what it would feel like to have that same focus turned toward me. The thought sent a rush of heat to my cheeks, and I quickly looked back at my own wheel, hoping he hadn’t noticed.

My second attempt ended up looking like something a five-year-old might bring home from school.

I groaned, glaring at it. “This is rigged.”

Austin chuckled. “It’s clay, not a conspiracy.”

“Easy for you to say, Mr Perfect Bowl,” I shot back, eyeing his work. “You’ve clearly done this before.”

“Maybe once or twice,” he admitted, that infuriating smirk still in place.

By the time we finished, I was covered in clay, and had created something vaguely resembling a bowl—albeit a very abstract bowl. Austin’s bowl, of course, was perfect. He carried it to the drying shelves like it was a trophy, and when I set mine down beside it, he shot me a teasing grin.

“You know,” he said, “it has… character.”

I bumped his shoulder with mine as we turned back to our seats, catching the faintest laugh as he steadied himself.

After the class, we stepped outside into the warm spring air, our aprons replaced with our jackets, though Austin slung his over one arm. We wandered into the nearby park without really discussing it, the path lined with blooming flowers in every colour imaginable.

Austin slowed as we passed a row of roses, leaning down to smell one of the bright red blooms.

I watched him as he leaned closer, his expression shifting to something softer, almost thoughtful. It was a side of him I hadn’t seen much of—quiet, unguarded, as if the rest of the world had melted away for a moment. There was something almost poetic about the way he moved from flower to flower, pausing just long enough to notice the details.

“This one,” he said, motioning to a pale pink rose. “It smells like perfume. Stronger than the others.”

I stepped closer, curious, as he tilted the flower toward me. “Really?”

“Try it,” he said, his voice low and inviting.

I leaned in, my nose brushing against the petals as I inhaled. The scent was sweet, heady, and rich, like something you’d find bottled on a vanity.

“You’re right,” I murmured. “It’s lovely.”

I pulled back, catching his gaze as he watched me, something unreadable flickering in his eyes.

I laughed softly, breaking the tension. “Do you always smell the roses?”

He straightened, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Sometimes. Doesn’t hurt to stop and notice things.”

I nodded, glancing back at the roses. Before I could respond, he tilted his head slightly, his brow furrowing.

“You’ve got—” He gestured vaguely at my head. “Clay. In your hair.”

I froze. “Oh, great,” I muttered, reaching up to find it.

“Here,” he said, stepping closer. “Let me.”

I stilled as he raised his hand, his fingers brushing against my hair as he carefully picked out the tiny bit of dried clay. The warmth of his touch lingered longer than it should have.

“Got it,” he said, his voice quieter now.

“Thanks,” I said, my own voice oddly soft.

He didn’t step back right away. His gaze flicked to my cheek.

“Hang on,” he said, reaching out again. “You’ve got some here, too.”

His thumb brushed against my skin, gentle and deliberate, and my breath caught. The warmth of his touch sent a ripple through me, soft but startling, like the smallest drop breaking the surface of still water. My skin tingled where his thumb had been, and I was suddenly hyper-aware of how close he was, the faint scent of clay and something unmistakably him lingering in the air between us. I opened my mouth to say something—anything—but the words caught in my throat.

“There,” he said after a moment, his eyes meeting mine.

The warmth of his touch lingered even as he stepped back, hands dropping casually into his pockets.

Before either of us could say anything, a voice called out from behind us.

“MISS!”

I turned, startled, to see one of my pupils bounding toward me, his parents trailing behind with apologetic smiles.

“Max,” I said, smiling despite myself. “Hi.”

Max skidded to a halt, staring up at me with wide eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“Enjoying the flowers,” I said, still smiling. “Same as you.”

He frowned, his gaze flicking to Austin for a moment before snapping back to me. “Did you see the red ones? Like the ones in the play?”

I blinked. “The ones from your scene?”

“Yeah!” Max said eagerly. “The big ones. I remembered my line about them yesterday!”

“That’s great, Max,” I said, genuinely impressed. “I knew you’d get it.”

He beamed, his excitement contagious, and I heard Austin chuckle softly beside me.

Max turned back to his parents, who gave me a quick wave before steering him away.

When I glanced at Austin, I found him watching me, something softer in his expression. “You’re good with him.”

Austin’s gaze lingered, and for a second, it felt like he wasn’t just talking about Max. There was a quiet intensity to the way he watched me, like he was cataloguing something he hadn’t noticed before. It sent a flutter through my chest I didn’t quite know what to do with.

I shrugged, brushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “It’s part of the job.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s easy,” he said, his voice quiet.

For a second, neither of us moved.

Then, he smiled. The smile lingered between us, soft and warm, before he glanced back toward the path ahead. “Come on,” he said, motioning with his head. “Let’s keep walking. Unless you have somewhere to be?”

I shook my head. “No plans. Unless you count ‘avoiding cleaning my flat’ as something pressing.”

He chuckled, a low sound that did something unfair to my stomach. “In that case…”

We fell into an easy rhythm as we walked. The park was alive with families, joggers, and couples sprawled on picnic blankets, but somehow, it felt like a quiet bubble surrounded us. Occasionally, our arms brushed, and each time, I fought the urge to overthink the small, accidental touches.

“You never told me,” he said after a moment, his gaze sliding to me. “What’s the play about?”

I raised an eyebrow. “You want the full Year Four synopsis?”

“Absolutely.”

I laughed softly. “It’s a mishmash of fairy tales. The narrators—when they’re not fighting over who stands in the middle—are trying to tell a story, but all the characters keep messing it up. Cinderella accidentally ends up in the Three Little Pigs, Little Red Riding Hood steals the glass slipper, that kind of thing.”

He smiled. “Sounds like chaos.”

“Oh, it is.” I sighed. “But it’s sweet, in its own way. Max—the kid you just met—has this line about the roses in the Beast’s garden, and he gets so into it. Every rehearsal, he says it like he’s performing at the National Theatre.”

Austin’s smile widened. “I can tell he’s got a good teacher.”

I felt heat creep up my neck and focused on a patch of daisies lining the path. “They do all the work. I just point them in the right direction.”

He didn’t say anything for a beat, and when I glanced at him, his expression had softened again, that unreadable something flickering in his eyes. I didn’t know what to do with it, so I looked away.

As we reached a small fountain near the centre of the park, Austin stopped and turned to face me. “This was fun,” he said, his voice quieter now. There was a softness to his expression, something unguarded, like he wanted to say more but hadn’t quite decided how.

I nodded, my fingers brushing against the strap of my bag. “Yeah. It was.”

“I’m glad you came.”

There it was again—that flicker. I met his gaze and felt my stomach twist, the easy rhythm of our walk replaced by something heavier. Something unspoken.

He didn’t look away. Didn’t fill the silence with a joke or a tease.

I broke the moment first, glancing down at my trainers. “So… do you think they’ll call us pottery prodigies? Or is that just wishful thinking?”

His mouth quirked into a half-smile. “I think they’ll call us something. Not sure ‘prodigy’ is the word.”

I laughed, the tension easing just enough to breathe again. “Speak for yourself. My abstract bowl is going to revolutionise the pottery world.”

He chuckled, but his gaze lingered, as if he was still holding onto something from a moment ago.

When we started walking again, it felt lighter, easier, the conversation dipping back into safe territory. By the time we reached the park’s edge, the sun was dipping lower in the sky, casting everything in a soft, golden glow.

As we stopped at the corner where we’d have to part ways, he turned to me again, his hands in his pockets. “Thanks for coming today.”

“Thanks for inviting me,” I said, my voice softer than I meant it to be.

For a second, it felt like he might say something more. His gaze held mine, his lips parting slightly, but then he smiled—a small, almost shy curve of his mouth—and stepped back.

“I’ll see you soon, yeah?” he said, his voice light.

“Yeah,” I said, clutching the strap of my bag. “See you soon.”

I turned first, walking away with measured steps, my heart doing something both ridiculous and impossible to ignore. And as I glanced back over my shoulder, just once, I found him still standing there, watching me.

I turned back quickly, heart skipping in my chest. What was he thinking? Did I imagine that hesitation, the way he’d almost said something at the fountain? I shook my head, willing myself to stop overanalysing. But even as I walked away, his voice lingered in my mind, quiet and steady. I’m glad you came.

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