#i didnt mean to make her look so terrified

[the-cpu-system]

[broke-on-books]

☕

The live action Scooby-Doo movies?

I did not see this ask until RIGHT now (first time on desktop since crab day, second time since Nov 5 2020 [which was DOUBLY experience since I got my phone taken the same day]) so I'm going to assume this ask got eaten on mobile because tumblr, HOWEVER you poked a bear with this ask anon (as I'm sure you knew when asking) SO without further ado: my Scooby Doo live action opinions

So when you say 'live action Scooby-Doo movies' I'm assuming you're talking about the James Gunn films, starting with Scooby-Doo (2002) followed by Scooby-Doo 2: Monsters Unleashed, just due to like, generally popularity and also the fact that I have actually seen those films. However shoot another ask if you wanted me to include Curse of the Lake Monster in this (because I will if anyone cares and turn this into a live-action scooby dissertation, i'd just need to like. watch the movie first) But anyways where I'm going with this is that this post is about the Gunn movies aka the ones with SMG, Freddie Prinze Jr., Linda Cardellini, and ofc our #1 man, Matthew Lilliard.

Okay so my take on these movies is... complicated. I wouldn't say it's as complicated as my feelings towards SDMI, because I watched the live actions way less as a kid and generally care less about them, but still no matter how much shit I throw at these two movies there are parts that I generally like (even love) that stops me from totally condemning them wholesale. Like the fact that these movies are FUNNY! There's so many moments from this duology that are just beyond iconic "like, that's one of my favorite names!" the whole thing with Scooby in the dress at the airport, ET. CETERA (like I can go on!)

The Gunn movies are genuinely SO fun and I can 100% see and understand how they've stood so well in the public view as a representation of Scooby. HOWEVER, this is where you start to see my problems with them. For the general American, (because that is the audience I'm familiar with) ESPECIALLY millennials and younger, who happen to make up the majority of both people on this site AND people I talk about Scooby with in real life, these movies, and the elements they introduced as "quintessential scooby tropes" are the base of their understanding of the Scooby franchise, along with likely some miscellaneous WAY episodes and maybe SDMI.

Which is where I get pissed off. In the pushing of the narrative of "breaking away" from the Scooby norm, Gunn basically invents (aka totally makes up) an idea of what classic era Scooby was like, cementing an idea of classic Scooby into the public mind that is totally disingenuous and just straight up false. For example, in attempting to portray Daphne as having taken strides to be seen more seriously in solving mysteries and defending herself, it pushes the narrative that in the classic era she WASN'T taken seriously, and only existed as a damsel-in-distress prop of a character, which is just not true??? Like yes, Daphne is clumsy, that's a part of her character, and her friends (because, fun fact, the gang ARE friends) joke about it sometimes because that's what friends DO. Framing that in some kind of sexist "that's all she does" lens is just total bull, especially as gang members fall into secret passageways/get lost etc. in WAY ALL THE DAMN TIME because that's how the plot functions! Like are we calling Velma ditzy for losing her glasses every other episode? Of course not, and Fred falls into passageways all the time, not to MENTION Shaggy and Scooby and all they get up to. Also one last thing on the topic of Daphne, like this idea of her mystery solving skills not being respected by the gang is just so supremely bullshit it amazes me sometimes, especially when she was the LEADER (or leader adjacent) through pretty much all of her appearances in the 1980s [Not that James Gunn could look at '80s era Scooby without spitting on it, but I digress]

AND THIS IS JUST DAPHNE! Like the perceptions pushed towards Fred (and Velma, but mostly Fred) through these movies are just as bad! Like okay, with Fred---In these movies Fred is just an asshole. I hate Gunn Movies!Fred. I mean yeah he can be funny but it's almost always so mean! Almost nothing makes me madder than a mean Fred by the way. If he's putting other gang members down (even halfway, like with his whole "dorky chicks like you turn me on too" line, which... ew) then to me something has gone very, very, VERY, wrong in your basic understanding of Frederick Herman Jones as a character. Like he's the cheerleader! He puts himself in between his friends and danger! He loves nets, and traps, and Elvis impressions, and wrestling, and the trapeze, and cars, and most of all he LOVES sharing the things he loves with his friends! (Sometimes to a bit of an extreme. No one wants to hear about your net facts, Fred) And the live action movies just don't understand that at all. And I know there's maybe something to say I suppose in that some of those aspects of his characterization hadn't been "established yet" by the time "Scooby-Doo" came out in 2002. But it's there if you look. For Fred Jones, being the leader means being the caretaker, (he's the Mom friend what can I say) and any version where he's cruel and arrogant and just DOESN'T CARE about his friends in the way he's shown to in the Gunn movies is just so far from Fred to me it's not even funny. And what makes it even worse for me is that this (or at least something similar) is the idea of Fred that has really spread to the popular culture. Just the "leader", the jock that makes the rules, the one that [insert X adaptation here] finally gave a personality and made interesting (something that has been said more times than I can count for pretty much every gang member, save Shaggy and Scooby).

And I haven't even touched on Velma, and how they gave her a bit of a early 2000s smart superiority girl complex against Daphne, plus the whole makeover thing and etc. etc. The Gunn Movies are pretty much what would happen if you took someone who hadn't seen Scooby since they were 7 years old (and honestly had a pretty negative outlook against it then) and tried to "fix" it, only his memory was so bad he just made up problems (and threw in a good helping of early 2000s style sexism with it) convincing pretty much the entirety of the popular culture that said problems exist and that Gunn was absolutely brilliant for fixing them (and then bringing up said "problems" whenever anyone wants to talk about Scooby) and this entire rant has been without even fucking MENTIONING what is probably the reason you, anonymous tumblr user sent this ask in the first place, to I, Swishy "Scrappy Doo Redemption Arc" Broke-on-books (dot tumblr dot com), which is his HIGHLY SUCESSFUL and utterly sadistic character assassination of my number one man, Scrappy Doo.

And I am going to try my damnedest here not to get totally into my highly passionate opinions over what James Gunn did to Scrappy in the first of his Scooby movies and how thoroughly it has pissed me the fuck off because I have been writing this post for over an hour now and if we start to really get into my feelings on this topic it will certainly be a couple of hours more but like. That Fucking Bitch. I give James Gunn personally a solid eighty-five percent of the blame for making my life as a Scrappy Doo fan UTTERLY unbearable with this stupid fucking movie alone, and just his Scrappy crimes would honestly be enough for me to say that I hate this movie, not even considering the numerous Scooby crimes I've been talking about here for the past million paragraphs, but the part about this movie that makes me the MOST mad the most pissed off is that it's actually a good fucking movie. James Gunn wrote two hilarious and entertaining movies that have become beloved in the popular culture for their successes in that arena, while at the same time pissing all over the core themes and messages of the franchise of which it was based, that of friendship.

TLDR; The Live Action Scooby Doo movies (written by James Gunn) are highly entertaining and fun pieces of media to watch, and are widely loved by the general public and looked at with fondness and nostalgia because of that. However, as a hardcore Scooby Doo fan (writing that phrase sounds so ridiculous but oh well) the existence of these movies and their impact on the popular culture can be extremely frustrating (despite any personal nostalgia said fan may have) due to their spreading of a misinformed picture of what "typical Scooby Doo" looks like. This picture is especially frustrating due to the fabrication or exaggeration of problems present in classic Scooby (such as sexism in regards to the girls), as well as giving more ammunition to other problems in Scooby fandom (such as oversexualization, and sexualization in general, which no one wants to see in regards to their children's cartoons, like HONESTLY.) Discussions of sexism and sexualization in Scooby (both of which ARE present and are issues, although not at their worst in WAY) can often lead to an overlooking of the issues that are very present and clear in WAY and have continued since then with far too little resistance (I'm 100% talking about the racism here) HOWEVER that topic deserves at least a dozen posts of its own that I am no way informed or qualified enough to even begin to think about writing. The Gunn Movies are frustrating to many longtime Scooby fans because of these reasons, but for me, and fellow Scrappy Doo fans there is also the added aspect of the demonization of Scrappy Doo in the live action movies and the affects that has had on the popular culture as well, making it uniquely inhospitable to like or enjoy the character of Scrappy. End post.

[nomairuins]

i just fucking hate having ptsd all of it. so many stupid fucking things send me into fucking hysterics it sucks and i hate it and i dont want itttt anymore i dont want it.

[steampoweredskeleton]

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Ignore

[moonstruckme]

HI MAE so i didnt send the shy remus x reader ask but i saw that u wanted ideas and i had one. what about reader who's very cocky and like confident and stuff and remus is intimidated by her usually but then theyre at a party or smth and shes all drunk and shes all over him telling him stuff like how shes got the biggest crush on him or like how hes genuinely one of the most attractive people shes ever met and shy remus is js like 😳 while also taking care of her bc shes so drunk and simultaneously trying not to combust

Hi my love, thank you so much for your request!

cw: alcohol

shy!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

Really, it should be Sirius’ responsibility to look after you. It is his party, after all. But Sirius has a love for delegating unwanted tasks and also a love for meddling (which Remus theorizes he got at least partly from James). So, naturally, you’re in Remus’ lap. 

“You guys are so nice,” you croon, words strung together like cursive and fingers toying with a loose thread of Remus’ sweater. He’s resigned himself to letting you unravel the whole thing without complaint. “All of you, all your friends are the nicest…the warmest people I ever knew. How’d you do that?” 

Remus smiles down at you. “I think James has always been good at bringing out the best in people.” 

He’s not entirely sure how you came to be lying on your back on the couch, your head on Remus’ thigh and your hands reaching for the dangling thread above you like a cat enjoying some lazy play. If he asked you, Remus doesn’t think you’d know, either. It makes a lovely view for him, your eyes uptilted in his direction and features relaxed and unguarded as a result of the series of tequila shots Sirius had cajoled you into not realizing you’d already had a few drinks. Remus very much enjoys having you this close and being able to look at you so casually, even if your brassy, larger-than-life demeanor often terrifies as much as impresses him. Even if your head on his thigh makes his face feel like a fire hazard. 

“Don’t think he had to work very hard with you. You’re such a sweetheart already.” You say it so simply, an obvious truth, and Remus finds himself staying perfectly still like a rabbit in the woods that thinks it might yet escape your notice. His heartbeat pitters in everywhere from his cheeks to his fingertips. He worries he’s going to have to make a response, but your eyes widen suddenly. “Oh! Sit still.” 

No problems there. Remus moves only his eyes as you sit up from his lap, tucking your feet underneath you and reaching for him with your lip trapped between your teeth in concentration. You touch a fingertip to his cheek and smile victoriously. 

“Got it.” You turn your finger, showing him. “You had an eyelash.” You blow it off your fingertip and onto Sirius’ rug. Remus marvels at the unthinking loveliness of you. “Have I talked to you about your eyes before?” you ask conversationally. 

Remus blinks, ceasing his tracking of the eyelash to look at you. “I don’t think so,” he ventures, though he knows you haven’t. He remembers most exchanges you’ve had, and he definitely would have remembered that. 

“Oh.” Your brows purse softly. “Must’ve been with someone else,” you murmur, almost to yourself. “Anyway, it’s important to me that you know, they’re really beautiful.” 

Remus startles, partly at the compliment but mostly at the touch you lay on his cheek, your fingers cool and gentle, like you’re steadying his face for your perusal. You look into his eyes attentively. 

“They’re brown,” Remus says in a soft voice. 

Your lips tilt like he’s said something funny. “Nobody’s eyes are just brown, Remus. There are so many different kinds.” Your index finger draws a short line across his cheekbone. Remus can’t tell you mean for it to or not. “Yours are sort of like a…like a gradient. They get lighter farther down.” 

Remus decides to study your eyes as you study his, and he sees what you mean. The shadow of your lashes makes your irises look darker at the tops. It’s difficult to tell, though, with your pupils eclipsing so much of them. 

“They’re, like, a warmish brown,” you’re saying, gaze unwavering. “Like the color you want your tea to be. You know, there’s some fact or study or something that says brown eyes make people feel safe. Did you know that?” 

“I didn’t,” Remus says. The weight of your attention is taking its toll on him, his body aching to sink into the couch cushions. He wants to ask if brown eyes have that effect on you, but he doesn’t have the nerve. “Is that so?” he asks instead.

You shrug. “I dunno. Works on me.” 

The breath stalls in Remus’ lungs. You’re looking at him like you haven’t said anything out of the ordinary, expression wide open and somewhat unfocused. 

You yawn, removing your hand from his face to half cover your mouth. It’s an awfully endearing show, and over too fast. “I guess that’s probably why—” You cut yourself off with a hiccup. Your eyes flare like you weren’t expecting it, hand jumping back up in front of your mouth. Remus grins before he can stop himself. 

“Oh.” Your smile is an afterthought, a response to his. “Sorry.” 

“It’s okay.” Remus isn’t even certain what you’re apologizing for. 

Your eyes have that sweet, attentive look again. “I really like when you smile.” 

Remus feels heat spread up to the tips of his ears. It’s official. He’s got more in common with a live flame than a human anymore. “What were you saying?” he prompts. 

You bite your lip as though you’ve forgotten. “Oh!” Your eyes light. “Just, I guess that’s probably why I have such a giant crush on you.” 

Remus’ heart thuds. He breathes, “What?” 

“Yeah.” You roll your eyes, grinning at yourself. “It’s relentless.” Hiccup. “Super embarrassing. But—but you’ve got those eyes, and your freckles, and that sweetheart face…” You shrug again, helpless. Ride out another hiccup. “What am I supposed to do?” 

Remus stares at you. It seems impossible. You have a crush on him? It’s out of the natural order. The world’s gone to chaos. It’s supposed to be the other way around! Remus pines silently after you, you eventually find some big, cocksure bloke who can match you, and Remus continues to pine whilst you go on with your brilliant, dazzling life. That’s the way it’s meant to be. 

“I would…” Remus finds his mouth forming around words he doesn’t recognize until they come out. “I’d know a thing or two about a crush like that.” 

Your lips part, but you don’t look offended. “Well, yeah. I’d hope you knew I fancied you, I’ve only been seeking you out ever since we met.” 

Not what he meant. Remus did not, in fact, know that. 

“I didn’t notice you were,” he admits. 

Your head tilts. “Really?” There’s an obvious follow up question—then what did you mean just now?—but for one reason or another, you don’t ask it. You only lean onto his shoulder, your head slipping a few inches down his arm.

Remus channels all his bravery into an arm around your waist to keep you from slumping further. He vows to himself to tell you tomorrow.

[samwinchesterswifu]

Linger (Sam Winchester x Reader) Angst

Season 4 x Episode 21 - When The Levee Breaks

Song Inspo: "Linger" by The Cranberries

Warnings: Sam being an asshole & Demon blood drinkin

MINORS DNI

A/N: this one is shit but i had to get something out there. *italics are flashbacks

Word Count: 1360

Summary: Locking Sammy up in the panic room was something she didnt want to do, but she needed to protect the boy she loved, even if he seemingly didnt love her.

“What do you mean Sammy has demon blood in him?” She seethes towards Dean as she tries to understand the conversation unfolding in hushed tones.

“Look, that’s all I know from what Dad told me. I couldn’t keep this a secret anymore.” Dean states, hand in his hair in frustration.

“And you decided to me? Of all people?” She asks bewildered.

“Yes, because we both know that you’re his only hope.” Dean sighs.

“Your brother doesn’t love me, he’s made that very clear.” She scoffs.

“He does, he does deep down and he’s terrified.” Dean grunted. She shakes her head at his comment.

“Okay, so what do we need to do?” She asks.

The memory played loudly in her head as she sits on the stairwell of Bobby’s basement. Sam had gotten to far with the demon blood consumption and she was forced to lock him in the panic room to help him detox. But her heart ached at the wretched sounds of his screams. Tears softly fell upon her cheeks as she cried listening to his pain. She was so in love with this man, this boy that had no idea what he was getting himself into. But she was so angry with him choosing a demon over her.

Trying to juggle her keys, phone, and drink in hand, she managed to successfully unlock the motel door of the room they were sharing. Only to look up and to see Sam feeding on Ruby. Dropping her drink catches Sam’s attention, making him jerk away and poof, Ruby was gone. She couldn’t have believed what she had witnessed. It was like some sick sex act the two had engaged in with their clothes on.

“Y/N, I can-uh I can explain,” Sam says rising to his feet. Wiping away the red off his lips.

Without saying a word to him, she pushes past him and grabs her duffle. Preparing to leave him, and Dean for good. Too fed up with the situation. But as she turns to leave, Sam catches her arm in a tight grip.

“You can’t,” Sam whispers through choked tears.

“Not you too.” Sam had let a few tears stain his cheeks. Making her own throat become rock solid at the sight of the boy she loved crying.

“Then it has to stop Sammy,” she whispers to him. Barely meeting his eyes.

“You know I can’t,” he responds.

“I can’t keep doing this Sammy, play this mind games of yours. You’ve known that I love you yet you play me like a damn dog,” she replies. Her own tears brimming at all the turmoil she’s experienced.

Sammy sighs, dropping his head low.

“I know,” he whispers. His voice seemingly sounding broken.

“But you know that I’ve stayed away to protect you, that’s all I’m doing Y/N. I cant let you get consumed with me.” Sam’s voice was stern but warm.

“I would rather be consumed by you, or with you, then be away from you,” she responded, grabbing his chin to have him look towards her. Caressing his cheek, and whipping away the tears.

Sammy’s screams pull her out of her thoughts. Grabbing on to her left flannel pocket, squeezing. God, it truly hurt her heart to hear him.

“Y/N?” Sam calls out to her.

“Y/N!” Sam yells again. Pounding on the door of the panic room.

As she rose to try to comfort him somehow, the door to upstairs opens with Dean standing at the top of the stairs. Sam calls out to her again, and Dean shakes his head. Offering his hand to her.

“Dean, I-I can’t,” she says through choked tears.

“You need a break, Bobby has a bed made for you, please, I got this for a while.” Dean replies still holding out his hand.

She sighs, and begins to make her way upstairs, grabbing onto Dean’s hand as he helps her up. Bobby instructs her way to go, that it was safe. Nodding, she makes her way upstairs to take a short nap. That’s all she told herself, a short nap.

Closing her eyes, she opens them again.

Only to find herself sitting on a park bench. A head of her, was a younger version of herself. She remembered this day. She had snuck away from her father to meet Sam. She must’ve been 15 here. She watches herself closely. Smiling at the necklace her younger self was toying with. It was a simple single pearl necklace that Sam had managed to get to her.

But there was a sudden gust of wind, making her jump she realized that Castiel was next to her now.

“Really Cas?” She asked. This was a habit of the angel to check up on her sometimes when dreaming.

“I just wanted to see if you were alright.” Cas stated bluntly.

“Where are we?” He asks, looking around and then his eyes settling on her younger self siting on the play set steps.

“Shh, just watch.” She replies. Castiel nods in agreement.

“Hi angel,” Sam’s voice comes from behind her younger self, making her jump from her seat.

Turning around, she notices Sam holding a few picked road-side flowers in a make shift bouquet.

“Oh Sammy, they’re beautiful,” she gushes, grabbing them and giving them a sniff.

Sam sheepishly smiles at her, digging his hands deep in his pocket.

“I didn’t know Sam was like this.” Castiel states. Looking at her curiously. She sighs.

“He wasn’t always,” she replies. A twinkle of fondness rested on her voice.

The two of them watched as the younger Sam and her return to steps of the play set. The two younger versions chatting and getting caught up on their lives. At some point, Sam had made a bold move, and captured her hand in his, making younger her blush deeply.

She goes to turn to say something to Cas, only to see that he had left her dream without realizing. Shrugging her shoulders, she turns to see younger Sam in front of her.

“Y/N!” He screams.

Suddenly she sits up in the bed she was sleeping in. Movement down stairs makes her suspicious, prompting her to grab her gun from the bed side table, and she makes her way down. She hears commotion outside and opens the door to see Sammy had escaped and Bobby laying unconscious. Sammy holding on to the barrel of a shot gun that presumably Bobby had held.

“Sammy, come on, we just need to get you downstairs,” she tells him, gun still drawn.

“Are you kidding?” He scoffs, eyes wild and stricken.

“Sammy, please. I don’t want to hurt you,” she responds hoarsely. Tears threating to escape again.

A sickening laugh leaves Sam’s lips. The sound causing a rift in her stomach that made her feel like she was going to be sick.

“You’re not gunna hurt me?” Sam walks up to her.

Hesitantly, she closes her eyes and shoots towards his direction. Sam’s laugh echoes through the salvage yard as he grabs on to her gun. She begins to wrestle with him for control before the gun awkwardly slips from her grasp. Sam points the gun at her. Making her swallow the lump that had formed in her throat.

“Do it.” She states harshly.

Sam cocks his head in confusion.

“You’d be totally fine with me doing this right now? Killing you?” He asks, and she nods in response.

“If you let me go, I will hunt you down Samuel.” She states harshly while starring into his eyes.

“Fine, come find me then.” Sam replies. Before she could respond, Sam’s fist comes flying towards her. Closing her eyes, she loses consciousness on impact.

The sound of a rusted car engine sputtering to life jolts her awake. Realizing she was on the graveled ground outside, she begins to push herself up. Just as a car comes flying by her. Confused, she looks to see Sam in the driver’s seat as he turns out of the drive way and booking it down the road. Gritting her teeth, she hobbles her way towards Bobby, hoping that the old man was still alive.

[mollyrolls]

hey cupid! ☆ iwaizumi h. x reader

14. reverie

warnings: finale. language, miscommunication, one religious joke (kinda).

an: its finally here! thank you all for the love on hey cupid, truly means more than you could ever know. i hope this lives up to the hype, sorry it took so long lmao.

cont. the italicized part is from the nsfw chapter i have yet to upload, so sorry if thats confusing. basically, she thinks iwa just wanted to fuck and then dip, so she hurts her own feelings over it. he didnt, they talk abt it, you'll read the rest. ok. thanks again <3

prev. / mlist.

They’re not saying anything. When she knocked on the door five minutes ago, she looked as happy as ever to see him. Now that they’re sitting a million miles apart in Iwaizumi’s living room, she seems less than pleased.

He knew that this wouldn’t go exactly like he planned, but he didn’t think it would be like this. Instead of their predictable back and forth, she won’t even look at him. 

It makes him feel sick.

Iwaizumi anxiously adjusts in his chair, drawing her attention to him. They hold eye contact for only a moment, before she looks away again, embarrassed.

He had worked himself up to say something, but meeting her eyes rendered him fully useless.

The same tense silence fills the room once more, suffocating them. Finally, she sighs dejectedly. 

“Look, I’m sorry for the other night. I wish you would’ve told me you were so uncomfortable with sleeping with me, but it’s my fault for not checking. You don’t have to talk to me anymore if you don’t want to.”

He doesn’t know how to respond. Her assumption being so off track makes him start to lag behind, as he racks his brain for what he’s done to make her think that.

When he doesn't say anything, still stuck in his own thoughts, she cradles her head in her hands. Seemingly willing the floor to swallow her whole. 

“Are you going to say anything? Or just sit there and let me humiliate myself until I die?” Her question comes out muffled from behind her hands.

He gains enough consciousness to shut that down quickly. “You’re not humiliating yourself. Like I said, I don’t regret what we did.”

Hajime’s first words of the night do little to lighten her spirits. She seems perpetually weighed down, and has since her date with Osamu.

If Iwaizumi could reasonably kill him, he would. 

She sounds unconvinced. “Yeah, ok.” 

“You don’t believe me?” 

Her hands fall from her face, choosing instead to stare at the wall distantly. “I don’t know. You aren’t really acting like you’re proud of what we did.”

The accusation doesn’t sit well with him. Sure, he hadn’t shouted from the mountaintops, but it’s like she’s forgetting what had happened after.

He lies down in just his boxers, her in just his shirt. The labored breathing coming from both of them isn’t enough to quiet the roaring in his ears. She rolls over to face him, eyes still puffy from the rollercoaster she put herself through. “Iwaizumi?”  He just hums, unsure of how steady his voice would be. “Do you regret it?” He knows this is the last bit of her insecurities, the ones he feels responsible to tamper. So as anxious as it makes him to admit it, he does it for her. “…. No.” She doesn’t say anything. He takes it as acceptance enough. “Do you?” The pause is longer from her. But she sounds more sure.  “No.” He lets himself be selfish, and wraps his arms around her, bringing her closer in. If his words aren’t enough, he’ll let his actions do the work. He tries to ignore the shakiness of her shoulders as they fall into a fitful sleep.

 “Well, you aren’t either. I’ve at least come out and said it.”

She sours at that, remnants of the fight probably swimming back up to the surface. She bounces back faster than before, but he knows that’s still holding her back.

“I don’t think I regret it…” She starts, and Hajime starts to dread the ‘but’ that will follow. It’s terrifying how much power she holds over him with just a sentence. 

“...I’m just scared of what’ll happen if I admit it.”

Hajime can see how scared she is. It’s something he’s never witnessed from her before; it doesn’t feel right. She’s supposed to be persistent and nagging him about something stupid, not second guessing herself. Especially not over someone like him.

As much as he hates seeing it, he knows how significant this is to her. He’s been there too, felt the anguish of silence on the other side. 

So he matches her effort, voice hoarse from how quiet it comes out. 

“I’m scared too.” 

It’s so silent in Iwaizumi’s living room that he can hear her breathing, even and controlled. Like she’s willing the oxygen to go down. 

“So what do we do?”

“I’m not really sure.” He feels like a teenage boy again, hyper aware of every movement he makes. “Do you want to do something?”

She grumbles. “I mean, yeah.” 

Hajime’s heart squeezes tight in his chest when he hears it again. He thinks he could never get tired of her admitting it.

“It would be stupid for us to… feel like this and not ‘do something’,” She makes sure to exaggerate the air quotes, much to his annoyance. At least she’s not so anxious that she can’t be a pain in his ass some of the time. 

“But, it would also be stupid to try and avoid the glaring problem between us.”

He agrees with a nod. 

That seems to be the end of it, as neither of them make any move to continue the conversation. 

They’ve never been good in silence. Even when they were out on their dates, it felt like they had the mutual understanding to fight, if only to pass the time. Hajime wonders briefly when all that changed.

He truly cannot place the time when he started thinking about her like this. Like how her happiness and her fire are the only thing he cares about when he’s around her, and even more so when he’s not. 

Honestly, Hajime can’t even remember if he really hated her after their first date. Since he can’t place a time, if he feels this way now he must’ve felt like this then. The butting heads, the petty fights, that’s just who they are. 

But sitting in the silence of this living room, he solemnly wonders if that’s all they’ll ever be. If they can’t get through one conversation to process their feelings, what hope do they have for a future together?

As if she can hear his thoughts, she lets out a shaky breath. 

“If I ask you something, do you promise to answer me honestly?”

Her voice sounds wrong again, like it had that night. Too unsure of itself to belong to her.

“I’ll try.”

She readies herself before dropping the second most catastrophic bomb Iwaizumi could have ever imagined. 

“Why do you fight with me so much?”

There are a million ways he could answer her question, none of which he wants to admit. That he thought that was just their relationship, so he never put much thought into it. That he truly doesn’t know, sometimes he just can’t help himself. That the way it makes his heart race is dangerous, and how he has no intention of stopping because of how excited it makes him.

He could try and answer her, give them a reason to pinpoint and work through so that they could do this, but that would be lying. Hajime could never lie to her.

So instead, he decides to take a leap of faith.

“Is it really a problem though?”

She looks at him puzzled, like he hadn’t listened to a word she said.

He tries again. He's finally getting his momentum, and he can’t afford to lose it now. “What I mean is, yeah we do fight a lot. But it’s never over really important stuff. It’s just bickering.”

She nods as he speaks, wheels turning in her mind. “I don’t know why we fight. It’s probably some deep rooted psychological shit that I don’t care about.” Hajime sends up a silent prayer that his next words won’t humiliate him to the ends of the Earth.

“But I care about you.”

She freezes, probably not expecting him to come right out and say it. He hadn’t expected it to fully admit it tonight, but now that it's out in the universe he has no desire to take it back. It feels too right. 

“I don’t…” She tries to find the words, but Hajime stops her. She pulls a face at the intrusion, but lets him continue. 

“If it bothers you, I’ll try to cut it out. But I like that we fight.” 

She seems even more confused, but he feels excited. He’s finally saying the things that have haunted him since he met her, but only recently gave weight to. He realizes how long he’s been waiting to admit it.

“Sure, it’s always about you being right and being a genuine pain in my ass,” he starts, not fighting his grin anymore. She groans at the accusation, but doesn’t deny it. Hajime can see her lips starting to curl up, which sparks something deep in his chest.

“But you’re not a pushover. You’ll call me out on my bullshit, and not pull any punches. That’s what I want.”

His adrenaline is starting to wear off, but he'll be damned if he doesn't get it all out on the table now, so he pushes down the nerves. It’s not everything he wants to say, but he knows she’ll know.

“You’re who I want.”

The atmosphere in the room softens as the confession falls from his lips. Her face betrays nothing, and Hajime can see all the thoughts floating around in her head. 

She smiled at his words. There’s no denying that. The sight made the whole conversation worth it, regardless of how badly he wanted to shit himself. 

But the sight is short lived, before the conflict falls back over her face. 

“I like it too…” she starts, releasing the lip pulled between her teeth to give him a small shit-eating grin. “It’s gratifying being able to rub it in your face how wrong you are all the time.”

He laughs at that, low and warm.

She looks like she wants to overthink again, but pushes it away. He’s thankful for that; any more overthinking and he’d start to panic again too.

Instead, she deflects. “I was thinking about it the other night.”

Her gaze starts to flick slowly across the room, looking at anything but him.

“You were thinking about me?” 

He doesn’t mean it as a joke, but she takes it as one. 

“Please shut up.” She looks over her shoulder at him with that easy grin before startling herself and turning back.

“What I mean is, I think I know why we fight. But I think if I tell you, you’d take it the wrong way.”

He tries not to be hurt at the accusation, but it’s unsuccessful. Which might be proving her point, but he wants to know anyway.

“You don’t know that unless you say it.” 

His proposal is unsuccessful.

“Even still, I know it’d ruin the mood. I finally stopped feeling like I wanted to die in your presence, why would you want to waste it?.” 

Her persistence makes his curiosity grow stronger, but it’s also with a twinge of unease. He’s not sure what she could be thinking about, but he doesn’t know when they’re gonna have another talk like this. He has to see it through.

When she finally agrees, it's barely above a whisper. So low he can barely make it out. 

“I think I see the worst parts of myself in you.”

Suddenly, he wishes he didn’t hear her.

His ears start ringing again, thoughts running rampant. He leans back against the couch, crossing his arms in an attempt to get some distance. 

He doesn’t mean to seem petulant, but he’s sure he does.

At his movement, she turns around and pins him in his place with her gaze.

“See what I mean?” She softly points a finger at him. “Took it the wrong way.”

Despite this, she moves closer into his space. He tries to walk away, feeling too scorned and hurt to have this conversation anymore. She follows after him quickly, calling out for him to stop.

“I know that because I felt that way too.”

It falls from her lips in a rush, stopping him in his tracks. He still can’t bring himself to face her.

"Wait. It was probably dumb for me to say this now, I’m sorry. I panicked.” She begs, voice wavering slightly. Hajime feels the lightest touch on his arm, beckoning him to turn back. “Please don’t be mad. I promise it makes sense, and I’m not some horrible person for saying this.”

He’s not strong enough to resist her. 

He continues to keep his distance, but the two settle back on the couch. She begins to explain, looking as nervous as Hajime felt earlier. 

“I was trying to think everything through, especially after my freak out when we slept together. I didn’t understand why it impacted me so much, so I started writing about it, until it hit me like a fucking freight train.”

She readies herself with another deep breath, not too different from his own. He wonders if this is the equivalent to her confession.

“I know our bickering is different now, at least it is for me, but at the beginning it was definitely real. Which is why I’ve been so scared to do something, because I don’t want it to go back to that.”

He only nods, letting her continue on. 

“But I think what it was, was that it was easy to hate you because you were too much like me.”

She anxiously adjusts in her spot, drawing his attention to her. He stops after a moment, starting to realize what she means.

“I saw the things I don’t like about myself in someone else, and my insecurities lit up like crazy. I took things out on you because I couldn’t face them in myself.”

As she says it, memories and moments start flooding into his brain. The way he felt on their first date, overly protective of Bokuto and assuming he knew what’s best for him. When she went against his ideas, it felt like a personal attack, so he went in just as hard.

When he found out about her date and immediately felt sorry for himself. So the only thing he could think to do was make her feel bad too. Even if it was with good intentions.

“Which is why I knew you’d take it badly. Because I did too.” She finishes, watching his every move as he processes. 

The wound from the delivery is still a little raw, but he understands what she means. In a weird way, probably lending evidence to her theory, it’s comforting knowing she had the same experience with this revelation as him. 

It’s a little awkward, having everything laid out like that. He feels cut open, put on display for her to see. But in turn, she shared that same feeling with him. He sees that for what it is, and decides to leave it at that. There’s no need hashing out mutual insecurities, at least not now. 

Instead, he simply turns to her with a private kind of smile. “I’ve totally earned the right to read what you wrote about me now.”

Her gaze softens when she processes what he says, relief visible in her body language.

So much so that she starts to laugh. It’s a crazed kind of laugh, like the one you might get after a near death experience.

It makes him laugh too. 

“Why did I say that?” She says through broken gasps.  “You’re never going to let me live that down.”

He can’t fight the stupid grin that covers his face. “No, I’m really not. It’s nice to know you thought about me that much though.”

Not only did they have a serious conversation, they made it through on good terms.

Hajime feels fucking invincible. 

Her laughter subsides, and she settles back against the couch, facing him. “I’m just going to let you forget about it.” 

He faces her too, taking in her features in this softened, less anxious light. “Never gonna happen. I’m going to remind you that you thought about me so much that you just had to write about me. Multiple times, it sounds like.” 

“Ugh. I hate you.” She tries to shoot him a glare, but it doesn’t have nearly as much bite. He might even go as far to say that she’s smiling at him.

“I wonder how often my name appears in your diary. Oh, or your texts. Can I read your texts too? I have to know what you’re saying about me.” 

“Please stop.”

He sees his opportunity, and she realizes her mistake.

“No, don’t do it-” “Last time I checked, you were the one begging me to not stop.”

She groans in despair. “Please let this torment end." 

Riding his high, he braces himself against the back of the couch, putting his arm around her blatantly. 

Despite her complaints, she leans into him willingly. “You really are the worst Iwaizumi.”

It feels odd to think not ten minutes ago he wanted to leave his own apartment to get away from her. Now, he would do anything to freeze this moment forever.

“Eh. You love me.”

His body goes taut, not realizing what he said. He’s joked about it before, but now it has some kind of gravity to it. His heart starts to beat so fast, Hajime worries it might punch a hole through his chest.

She pauses, gaze looking a little wistful as she looks away at a spot on the floor. The words that fall from her mouth are quiet, barely above a whisper. 

“Yeah. I think I might.”

It’s odd how the world exploded at that same moment. 

Hajime doesn’t let himself believe what he just heard. It seems too unbelievable, too perfect to be happening to him. 

They sit in the silence of it, the words repeating over and over in his head. A choir of angels wouldn’t sound half as beautiful as that.

She doesn’t let his reverie last long.

“You’re just... not gonna say anything back? Real dick move there.” 

The soft smile painting her features are enough to negate the shove she lands on his shoulder. 

“Sorry. Sorry. I like you too.” He smiles down at her loopily.

She gasps in fabricated disbelief. “Only like? Are you serious right now?”

He responds with a shrug. “Yeah. You’re alright, I guess. Love is for suckers.”

He can’t resist the jab. It’s in their nature, after all.

“Oh, you wish, Iwaizumi. You wish I sucked.”

He gazes down at her, making sex jokes without a care in the world, and suddenly feels an overwhelming urge to kiss her. 

“You’re gross.”

He loves her. Without a doubt in his mind.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Iwaizumi.” She replies with a grin. And in a moment, a long, perfect moment, the tiny space that was left between them is gone.

prev. / mlist.

taglist!

@chemiru, @whosmarjj, @seroh, @skrunkly-soaked-rat, @yessimo,

@walllflowerrrsss, @bae-ashlynn, @themoonismymarble, @ryuverse, @yuminako,

@aiieera, @itsdragonius , @sereniteav , @bakugouswh0r3, @zumicho ,

@rory-cakes , @eggyrocks , @kirigiriz, @garfieldissocool, @wave2mia,

@juie13, @19calicos , @hyuckslvr, @csbnova , @1lovestrawberrymilk,

@saralovesrui, @neoclb , @gsyche , @kmwife , @insanelycooljk

@solaqes, @nectardaddy, @akaashikins, @theycallmenanamisgirl, @aboveasphodel,

@cherrypieyourface, @hyenagoated, @thepurpleempath, @dazqa, @soulfullystarry,

@walllflowerrrsss, @bectoshi, @bakingcuriosity, @sun-nny-side-up

[pathetic-tboy]

tw for extreme noncon, implied murder (not of the narrator) , sex slavery, kidnapping serial killer erotica

you went into the woods feeling prepared. you had a gun on you. people kept disappearing in the woods and youre sooo brave.

the dead bodies freaked you out. you decided to leave, but there she was. taller than you, with long hair and a knife. you reached for your gun as she strided towards you, you could see her clearly in the moonlight. there was blood all over her. her face, her clothes, everywhere.

you pulled the trigger. click click click. you had forgotten bullets. but she giggled, grabbing your face.

"oh, you're so cute to be out here looking for trouble, are you trans, too?" of course she had clocked you. before you could say anything, you were pushed down on your knees. you wanted to move, to scream, but you felt frozen in place. she fished her cock out from her jeans, rubbing it on your face. "be a good boy for me and take care of this, wont you?"

she talked so sweetly for a murderer. your heart was pounding out of your chest. you stared at her with a stupefied expression.

"aw, come on, sweetie, you dont want me to use this on you, do you?" she pressed the flat of the bloody blade against your face. you were shaking. everything in you told you to run, to fight back, but you took her cock into your mouth anyway, hoping that she'd let you go after.

you bobbed up and down, the woods silent besides her hums and your slurping. you looked up at her with tears in your eyes, wondering how you had gotten into this mess. but you knew, it was all your fault. you could die out here. you slowed down, lost in heart-chilling terror, but you couldnt deny the heat in your core.

"need help?" she grabbed the back of your head with one hand and shoved you down on her girlcock, fucking your face. you sputtered and choked around it, crying even more now, feeling helpless as she violated you. if only you hadnt come. if only you hadnt come. it was different when you were the one controlling the pace. she went hard and fast, you didnt even know if she cared if you could breathe. she might choke you on her dick until you drown in your own saliva, you could barely think as she used your mouth like a pussy. was this the first time she had had sex in a while? and it had to be you?

she pulled out of your mouth, leaving you gasping and panting, and threw you down onto your hands and knees. you tried to crawl away, but she dragged you back by your ankles, and flipped you over.

"you dont want me to get mean, do you?" she growled, staring you in the eyes. you avoided her gaze, shaking your head, but she grabbed your jaw and forced you to look at her.

"n-no ma'am....." you whispered defeatedly.

she didnt bother taking off your shirt, instead cutting it up and off you. she traced your scars, seemingly interested in them. "ill have to cut you up a little..... you make such pretty scars... ill need a fresh knife." she whispered morbidly. you could only choke out a sob as she unbuttoned your jeans, yanking them down and off.

"look at that pretty little cunt...." she dipped her fingers in, and you cringed at how wet you were. "youre so wet.... you must be loving the attention, dont you? youll love being my little boytoy, wont you?" you didnt answer. you were paralyzed with fear, tears streaming down your cheeks. but she touched you well, and you were moaning aloud at her expert playing of your pussy and tdick, thrusting your hips into her hands. the fear and her touching you were rocking your senses, you were terrified but you wanted more, but you didnt want more at the same time.

until she stopped, spreading your legs across her clothed thighs, brushing her girldick along the edge of your hole. you gave a couple of half hearted wriggles to get away, but you knew you were powerless. she held the knife against your throat then.

"you cut that out, slut, i know you want this. listen to your fucking moans." she rubbed her cock against your tdick. and you involuntarily moaned, thrusting your hips and proving her point. "yeah, i fucking thought so. now. take. it." she thrusted into you, drawing out a gasp, then all the way, pounding into you. she gave you no time to acclimate, raping your pussy as hard and fast as she could. you cried and screamed but kept still as she violated you, the knife scaring you into compliance.

but even still, your pussy made embarrassingly wet sounds around her thrusting, and you were moaning and whining. you felt your orgasm fast approaching, and tried to will it away. you cant cum from this. you CANT cum from this! shes KILLED people! but you let out a defeated wail as you clenched down around her thrusting cock, cumming on her despite your useless internal struggle.

"yeaaah, good fucking slut." she slapped your ass with the hand she was using to hold your hip, but she didnt stop. she didnt give you any time to breathe, or come down from your powerful orgasm, she continued to take you until you were cumming again.

"fuck- please!- uhhm- no more!" you cried out, but she either didnt hear you or didnt care. she bent down, bending your legs behind your head, and kissed you hard. she tasted like blood. she smelled like blood. all you could think about was how good it felt and how you probably shouldve been dead by now, and how you dont know if this is better.

"im gonna cum in you, you better be ready." she hissed against your mouth, bitng down on your lower lip hard. she fucked you hard and deep, making you sob despite your moans and guilty pleasures. you didnt have a uterus, but you didnt want her to cum in you. the first time was supposed to be special! but she made you cum one more time with her, spilling into you as you wailed. it felt so good.

"fuck..... good fucktoy." she sighed, twitching inside you as she dumped her load inside your aching pussy. "can you still get pregnant?" she asked, zipping up her jeans.

you didnt say anything for a second too long, she slapped you in the face. "n-no ma'am...." you whispered, holding your arms across your chest.

"so i can keep you? great."

"fuck- no- please let me go!" you cried, but she picked you up anyway, throwing you over her shoulder and carrying you deeper into the woods. you beat against her back weakly, but she didnt seem to notice. you screamed until you couldnt scream anymore, but at some point on her walk back to her isolated cabin in the woods, you quietly accepted your fate as a serial killers sex slave.

[stevie-petey]

I have a blurb idea!! When Jonathan, Nancy , Joyce and will get back from the cabin and the kids fill everyone in on what happened while they were gone. Dustin would absolutely reenact Steve and Billy fighting and bug and Billy fighting. You can't tell me Dustin and the kids would be kinda proud that bug held her own against Billy for the most part. Jonathan hearing about bug protecting Steve from Billy and Steve protecting bug in the tunnels. Would Jonathan feel a little upset that bug doesn't need him to protect her anymore, that is Steve's job now?

i absolutely love this one omg yes i adore doing scenes with just steve n jon their friendship makes me <333

enjoy !

"wheres bug?"

steve and the kids are sweeping the floors, quiet and tired as the events from tonight finally settle upon them. when they hear jonathans question, they all stop what theyre doing. a dark look passes over steves bloodied and bruise face, a sight that only makes the ice within jonathans throat constrict tighter.

will is asleep in jonathans arms, and when no one answers his question his panic overwhelms him and he feels his grip on will lessen. "steve, wheres y/n?"

steve steps forward, understanding jonathans fear more than anyone else in this room. "shes okay, i promise."

"but where is she?"

"in your room, asleep. she... shes had a rough night." steve looks away, ashamed that he couldnt protect you.

"she got her ass kicked." dustin says blunty.

jonathans head spins. "what?"

joyce and nancy now walk in and quickly notice your absence. their own worry begins to rise. when mike sees nancy, he runs up to her and starts rattling off question after question about el, will, if she wants to see him, dustin, and lucas reenact you and steve fighting billy.

"you guys fought billy?" nancy exclaims, now stepping towards steve as well. she misses the way jonathans hands shake as he struggles to hold his brother. hes terrified. if you fought billy, why arent you here right now to brag about how you won? did he hurt you? did jonathan send you back to the hospital again?

its joyce who sees her sons panic. she gently grabs will from her oldest and kisses his cheek. her voice is low so that no one else hears. while steve understands jonathans fear for your safety, joyce understands his love for you. "shes strong. she'll be okay."

they leave and dustin and the boys jump into their reenactment of the fight. mike pretends to be billy while dustin is you and lucas is steve. they jump on one another, scream and throw plates, and when dustin jumps onto mikes back as he has lucas on the ground, something in jonathans stomach twists.

"y/n totally saved steves ass!" dustin whoops as he rides around mikes back.

nancy and jonathan look over to steve, who has been quiet the entire time, and when he catches their eye he lets out a soft chuckle and shrugs. "she did. seems we cant stop saving each other."

jonathan frowns, about to ask what he means by that, but then mike starts choking dustin and dustin pretends to faint and once again his head spins.

"did billy..." nancy turns to steve, terrified as well. she places a hand against her own neck, stroking at the skin tenderly. she cant imagine what youve gone through tonight, and jonathan just shakes his head.

"he did." steves voice is hard.

dustin now pretends to stab mike, who crumples to the floor. "and then she stabbed the creep!"

"y/n held her own," mike admits, impressed.

"shes my hero," steve quips, though his heart isnt entirely in it. his heart is in the next room, where it lays besides you in jonathans bed as you sleep.

lucas, who is still on the floor as he pretends to be a knocked out steve, holds a finger up. "didnt you then save her in the tunnels?"

"you took her to the tunnels?" jonathan faces steve feels an anger that was once so familiar to him now rise. after everything you went through tonight, why would steve allow you to further push yourself?

the teen sighs. he understands jonathans anger, but theres so much that he will never understand when it comes to you and steve. the debt you owe one another, the trust that is there to always have each others back, no questions asked. "we both know theres no stopping her when shes made up her mind. all i could do was make sure she was safe."

"which he did." dustin adds, sending jonathan a pointed look.

he deflates, now suddenly embarrassed for his outburst. he knows steve is right. when it comes to the ones you love, theres no stopping you. sometimes hes afraid youll die protecting everyone else.

the thought is an unpleasant one, and jonathan castes it out of his head. what matters now is that youre only a room away from him, asleep and safe and alive. you will have new scars, new bruises and wounds to heal, but youre alive, and he'll be right next to you once more. jonathan may not have been there tonight, and he might not ever be the one to protect you again, but he knows he will always be by your side as you recover and heal and move on.

hes been by your side he was he twelve and the only thing that scared you was the creaking of floorboards.

now hes seventeen and you fear much more than shadows.

youre not jonathans anymore to protect, not really, but you will always be his to watch over. he'll always be there to walk you home, and he knows youll always do the same for him. youll always remind each other of who you are, where you belong. lines and strings and all.

"so, you really saved y/n's life again?" jonathan asks steve, silently extending this admission as a peace offering.

steve shrugs once more, his face flushed. he feels the shift again, he can see the olive branch that jonathan presents him, and steve never thought he would get here. to be worthy of this, to have your safety in his hands and jonathans acceptance. "i owed her."

jonathan laughs, and steve finally understands why the boy is your closest friend. jonathan byers is a lot of things, but hes loyal above all else, and steve knows that he he understands you better than anyone else with such few words.

nancy takes mike home, steve offers to drive dustin and lucas, and slowly the house empties. as steve exits the door, he lingers for a second, before he takes a deep breath. "hey, jonathan."

he turns. "yeah?"

"go see her, she could really use you right now... she'll always need you."

jonathan smiles. "thank you."

they both know that hes thanking steve for so much more than encouraging him to go to you.

neither of them acknowledge it again. they dont need to.

[goodbuckcharlie]

Volleyball>> hockey

Warning: minor cussing

Notes: this is just an introduction to Randi and Ally really. I wanted to post this sooner but I also wanted to finish a few parts because I want to make this a series :)

Best friends brother masterlist

@/ Ally_hughes

Liked by _alexturcotte, Colecaufeild, tatemccrae and 325,789 others

Caption- volleyball>>hockey

Tagged- @/Randi.Kingston

View comments-

@/Randi.Kingston- you fr exposed me in that last photo

@/ally_hughes- it’s my job as your best friend to keep you humble.

@/Randi.Kingston-well then consider yourself unemployed 🖕

@/markestapa- ooo the girls are fighting

@/_quinnhughes-I hate to be the one to break it to you but everyone in your family plays hockey.

@/ally_hughes- That’s why I’m the best Hughes around💪

@/Jackhughes- The only reason you started playing volleyball is you can’t skate to save your life.

@/ally_hughes- nah I’m built different

@/trevorzegras- 🏒🏒🏒

@/colecaufield-🏒🏒🏒

@/_alexturcotte-🏒🏒🏒

@/edwards.73- 🏒🏒🏒

@/jaime.drysdale-🏒🏒🏒

@/lhughes_06-🏒🏒🏒

@/randikingston- 🏐🏐🏐

@/lhughes_06- I meant to say 🏐🏐🏐

@/umichfan1- Luke changing his answer to match Randi. He’s so in love.

@/devsfan3-Girl you are reaching so hard.

@/umichgirl6-no I think she’s on to something here

@/randi.kingston

Liked by dixiedamelio, tysmith_6, jaimedrysdale, and 467,560 others

Caption- a bad bitch and baddie friend

Tagged-Ally_hughes

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@/ally_hughes- damn we are so hot

@/edwards.43- damn you are so hot

@/lhughes_06- tf u just say?

@/randi.Kingston- don’t mind e moose he talks out of his ass, but he is right Ally is hot

@/jackhughes- it’s past your curfew✋

@/ally_hughes- get out of here boomer

@/randi.Kingston- im going to block you grandpa

@/trevorzegras- don’t let the photos fool you, these two are not as nice as they look.

@/masonmctavish- they are nice they just don’t like you

@/trevorzegras- impossible I’m an absolute delight to be around

@/_quinnhughes- I hate you

@/trevorzegras- I DIDNT EVEN SAY ANYTHING TO YOU.

@/lhughes_06- miss you both ❤️❤️

@/ally_hughes- we all know that you mean “I miss you Randi 💋💋.”

@/randi.kingston- miss you too moose

@/jackhughes- he’s giggling and kicking his feet like a little school girl

@/dawson1417- yeah and he’s muttering to himself like a dork

@/lhughes_06- I am not @/jackhughes @/dawson1417

@/luca.fantilli- last night was wild💪

@/lhughes_06- you were with them?

@/rutgermcgroarty- a couple of us were but apparently we didn’t make it on the ig.

@/randi.Kingston- you guys didn’t make the ig cause it was girls night and you just happened to be at the same bar as we were and then joined us for late night wingstop✋

@/luca.fantilli- I thought our time together meant something

@/edwards.73- you said what we had was special

@/dylanduke25- last night was the best night of my life and you’re saying it meant nothing.

@/lhughes_06- you guys are ridiculous

@/edwards.73- that’s a funny way of saying you’re jealous.

@/lhughes_06- I’m not jealous

@/markestapa- oh so you wouldn’t mind if we told you we are on our way to her dorm rn.

@/edwards.73- you did not just call mark and say “no” and then hang up?

@/umichfan6- hit me like a volleyball mami.

@/umichfan1- I’m 65% convinced this is Luke on a burner account.

@/luca.fantilli

Liked by edwards.43, lhughes_06, Brendan.brisson and 14,409 others

Caption- girls night 🤪

View comments

@/_quinnhughes- why is Edward’s holding my sister like that in that last photo?🤨

@/edwards.73- we were watching a scary movie and she got scared.

@/luca.fantilli- bruh we watched frozen

@/ally_hughes- terrifying

@/_alexturcotte- #freerandi

@/ally_hughes- what’s not photographed is Randi running around like a mad women, Luca sitting on her was the only way she would sit

@/luca.fantilli- more like poor me,she bit me

@/randi.Kingston- I did not bite you

@/lhughes_06- I was never invited to girls day when I was there.

@/ally_hughes- this is your fault, you told your friends to keep an eye on us and now they don’t leave us alone

@/randi.Kingston- moose next time I’m in Jersey we can have a girls night.

@/jackhughes-thats a weird way to ask him out on a date

[verysanebsdfan]

Hiii!!

So I really loved your ciel , tokito, and killua x doll reader

So I was wondering if you could do one of a reader who is a absolute angel and looked like one but also has a blood manipulation nen so basically a demon nen and similar to the doll one she says some stories that sometimes disturb our lovely assassin

And also one where reader is very similar to misa misa from death note !! She's a famous model w kira as her nen and she joined the Hunter to try and see what else she could do!!

Ty!!

Hello!!

I assume only with Killua then?

Either way i made this two separate stories, after its done i will link it here too if i remember. Also my hxh oc from 2021 had blood manipulation nen...

You can find the second story here

Also to the nen, i imagine you could both make weapons and stuff (make it not liquid using the iron in blood or smth) and move the blood, idk how to explain it but, when the blood is circulating in your oponents body, you can move it (while its still circulating) and consequently move the body of your oponent.

✩ Okay so to start very uhh originally, you guys met at the hunter exam, so you travel with Gon and him.

✩ Maybe you met during the third phase since you fell into the same room as them

✩ Of course they didn't really trust you at first, since it is the hunter exam and they should be cautious, but when you got stuck in the room for 50 hours, you bonded, since you were the same age as Gon and Killua.

✩ Killua was really impressed by your fight from before, very much wondering how you did what you did. I mean, it was obvious your oponent wouldn't just jump from the platform by himself...

✩ Of course he asked you about it, but you just responded with a smile and a wink

✩ So, after the hunter exam and saving Killua from his creepy ahh family, you went to the Heavens arena and met Zushi and Wing. When Wing gave them the vague and quite incorrect description of nen, that is when it clicked, and he asked you about your abilities.

✩ And you just responded with your angelic smile. Why was he feeling all tingly tho? (¬ ͜ ͡¬)

✩ When you got onto the 200th floor, you actually stood through Hisokas nen, oopsies a mistake, and just went to sign up for a match since you were bored by all those weak people in lower floors.

✩ Now, when Killua and learned the basics of nen and stuff, he invaded your room and started asking questions...

"So i just can...even stop their heart and stuff...i mean, it will beat for a little bit but the blood wont circulate...and then they will pass out and die...If the blood and oxygen supply is cut off, muscle cells of the heart begin to suffer damage and start to die so..." "That's terrifying, you can kill anyone...but can you also, i dunno, help people who are about to bleed out" "I am working on it, but i cannot do miracles, i am not a god nor an angel (debatable)...If the blood gets on the ground as well and i were to put it back inside the persons body, i may very well just kill them...I have yet to learn how to separate blood and bacteria....i mean it is the same as taking out a toy from pool of blood, but just really small...then another problem is getting it into veins...and if i were to stop the bleeding, i might acidentally stop the whole blood circulation, im no doctor though"

✩ And you are just saying it as if you didnt kill people like that...however it is very respectable

✩ And then in Yorknew city he confesses yipee...and then you meet the Phantom troupe😍

✩ Now, Killua sually really worries about you, i mean, you are an angel basically...and people are pigs, predators...animals...but luckily you can protect yourself SO!!

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

Idk what to say anymore...not happy with this at all

[akoyaxs]

Just a thought that occurred to me last night about Tìyora:

Aonung thinks that he wasn't clear enough in telling reader that he loves her, and he comes rushing in a panic and blurting out all his feelings at once because he's scared she didnt pick up the fact that he's absolutely head over heels for her.

(Of course, reader thinks he's an absolute adorable idiot 😊)

Aonung bursts into your marui, eyes wide and face flushed and looking slightly out of breath. He’s carrying an assortment of random things in his arms, which he chucks unceremoniously on the floor before rushing towards you.

“Skxawng,” you grumble, looking irritatedly down at them. “I just cleaned- now you’re dumping your shit all over my house-”

“Syulang,” he says quickly, gripping your arm tight.

“Yes?” you ask in surprise, brows furrowed in confusion at his newfound panic. The nick name was a little unfamiliar too, given that just a day before you had still been forest girl, but in the rut and conversation that followed, it seemed suitable. Plus, it was pleasant in a way that made your stupid, traitorous cheeks want to blush.

“I like you,” Aonung spills out. “I do not just like your tits and your mouth and the beauty and attraction of you – of course I like those too – but I like every other part of you too. Like the way your nose scrunches when you smile, or how you pretend you aren’t smiling when you are, or how you shout at me when you notice me noticing you smiling. I like that you speak your mind and you don’t give a fuck about who I am, and no one can ever get you to do what they want you to because you are just ridiculously stubborn and I-”

“Aonung!” you say loudly, trying to hide your amusement, and also the ever-growing blush on your cheeks. “What are you…”

“I had to make sure you knew,” he says, still looking breathless and flustered and worried, as though terrified you would reject him, and he was just blurting out everything possible under the whole moon. “That I like everything about you, even everything that used to drive me crazy, everything you don’t like, every freckle and scar and frown. I mean, I like you so much that I hate it, but also it’s so addictive that every moment that isn’t spent with you is just a waste of time and all I want is just you.”

At that you blink. Then you scowl. Then blush and squint at him. Then blink several more times. Finally, once you’ve discerned that you actually aren’t getting pranked, that he is dead serious and waiting nervously for any sort of response, you find there’s only one to give.

Thoroughly non-verbal but overwhelmingly enthusiastic, before either of you can process what’s happening, you’re pouncing onto him, legs wrapping tight around his waist, arms looping around his neck and peppering his face with delighted kisses. Your affection takes you both by surprise, but Aonung shifts so he can hold you up against his solid chest, one hand brushing your hair from your face so he can press his nose and forehead to yours, heart beating rapidly, breath gratified beside one another.

“So it’s a yes?” he asks slowly, sounding completely lost, or maybe just disbelieving. “You… like me too?”

“You are the most stupid, infuriating, squid-brained skxawng I’ve ever met,” you whisper against his lips, a helpless smile curling at your own. “You are seriously the most brainless person ever.”

“Hey,” he protests, furrowing his brows and nudging your nose gently, and your smile fades somewhat as you take a deep breath.

Your answer is clear as you press your lips to his, hands tangling in his hair, giggling like a fucking child against his smiling mouth. Even someone as stupid as Aonung can figure out what that means.

[petrichorium]

BAM: Flower Crowns

in which gojo satoru, your beloved king and betrothed, knows his time is best spent in your company riling you up.

gojo satoru x fem!reader

word count: 2.5k reader: fem (she/her pronouns, fem terms, fem clothing including dresses) tags: fluff, royal au, childhood friends to lovers, once again hes pushy n the reader's a lil bit hesitant but hed stop if she rlly wanted, vague references to violence note: see i was gonna do a few lil scenes but the first one got away from me.... but basically the period of him courting the reader (which full disclosure isnt technically courting bc that should be happening before one proposes but this occurs while theyre engaged bc Gojo Didnt Get That Memo but i digress) is just him being WILDLY inappropriate for cultural standards, everyone silently pitying the reader, and the reader having a whole ton of conflicting emotions but ultimately rlly liking it 😭😭😭

usurper!gojo tag || masterlist

“they say you’re inhuman, you know.” you’ve finished the flower chain. his eyes don’t stray from your fingers as they nimbly connect the two ends and tie them together with a final stem into a thick circlet. “they said it a lot that night. they said you were the gods’ fury made mortal.”

he snickers. “how dramatic.”

you lift yourself up onto your thighs, shuffle towards him further and reach out, and he bows his head to let you place your creation upon it. your hand trails down when you let go, drifting over his ear and along his jaw as he lifts his head from its bow to look at you. you certainly mean to pull it away but his hand beats you to it, darting up to keep your palm against his cheek as you settle back down on the backs of your heels.

“i know why they came to that conclusion,” you say. “you terrified me when i saw you.”

“did you think me inhuman?”

you hum, eyes tracing along the band of flowers now gracing his forehead, falling to rest on his hand over yours. “no. never. monstrous, perhaps. odious. but very human.”

Satoru finds you out on the grounds, tucked away at the edge where the manicured gardens give way to rough forest. The weather has been turbulent, but for the first time since the coup there’s enough sun to stand being outside the castle longer than a scant few minutes. You’d said that morning that you planned to venture out, now that early spring flowers were beginning to bloom.

You’re cloaked in heavy furs, layers of skirts and wool protecting you from the cold, all elaborate garments that he’s gifted you. It's adorable (satisfying) to see you dressed up in his presents. He tells you as much when he finds you, delves into the treeline long before you see him so that he can sneak up upon you and whisper it into your ear to make you yelp and jump away.

“You mongrel,” you accuse with wide eyes and a hand on your heart as you work to steady your breathing. “Have you no respect for your future wife?”

“Ah, she admits it readily now? Progress.”

Your face twists as if someone has struck you. He chooses to ignore it and drops to sit sprawled out on the grass, beckoning unabashedly for you to join him on his lap. You won’t relent, he’s well aware, but he’ll have his desires known either way.

“Presumptuous,” you say. He'd die a happy man if you kissed him as many times as you called him that, but in lack of the former he’ll be content with the latter.

“Sit with me, my queen. I've missed you.”

“I am not yet your queen, Satoru,” you correct out of obligation. “You saw me an hour ago, we ate together.”

“Ah, but every moment apart is agony.” Satoru wonders if you know how serious he is beneath the breezy tone. From the way you wrinkle your nose, he doubts it.

“You have a meeting with your advisors now. You should not be out here.”

He pouts. “But you’re out here, and if I have to spend more time with those old fools than you today then I'll throw a tantrum tomorrow.”

You roll your eyes, let out a sigh that sounds long-suffering, but you shift your skirts and ease yourself down to sit gracefully before him with your legs tucked next to you. His threats aren’t empty and you know it.

“Fine.” You look down, as if inspecting the grass, spreading fingers along the blades as you begin to pluck wildflowers. Then you pause and glance up at him. “Remove those… oh, whatever they are. Let me see your eyes unhindered, at least.”

“Anything for my darling bride,” he coos at you, immediately doing as asked. He’d have done so anyway, if only to watch you lose yourself in staring when he reveals his eyes, catching yourself once he blinks and snapping your head back to the ground to busy yourself once more with plucking your blooms.

“How do you see a thing through those,” you grumble lowly, certainly just to break yourself from being flustered. It works too well; Satoru immediately jumps on the chance you’ve given him.

“Would you like to try them?” he asks, but doesn’t wait for a response, mind already conjuring an image of you draped in every golden chain and precious stone gracing his chambers.

He removes them from his face, pulling the chain from around his neck, and swiftly transfers them to yours before you can refuse—tilts your head up to look at him and tugs your hair out of the way with deft fingers, eases the gilded extremities onto your ears and lets the pads of his digits linger on either side of your head before pulling away. Pausing in your work and tilting your head back down to peer at him over the top of the frames, you blink at him owlishly from behind the glass, unused to staring through it. Precious, he thinks, and wishes briefly to kiss you—but he has to be smart about kissing you, calculating. Too much attention too fast and you have a tendency to pull away from him like the ebbing tide. It's agony for him, wanting nothing more than to hold you as much as he wishes, but as much as he wants there’s very little he hates more than when you tense under his touch and turn away from him.

“They suit you better,” he tells you, because they do. You look good adorned with jewelry of his design. “You oughtn’t wear them in public, though, or all the courtiers will be scrambling to get themselves a pair. Just for me, I suppose.”

Your nose wrinkles at the mention of your newfound influence, eyes darting to the side and lower lip pouting, an expression that makes him cast aside all his convoluted schemes to ease you into his affections. He leans down to peck at your lips, kiss away the pout, gone before you can complain. It’s fast enough that you don’t immediately recoil and give him a lecture on decorum, or perhaps you’re simply getting more used to it.

Satoru’s attention doesn’t stray as you return to your work. You’ve gravitated towards flowers with long stems, he realizes; collected them in a pile on your skirts, which you seem to have deemed large enough as you pick a notably long one up and begin to string them together in a chain. You don’t bother removing his glasses either, simply allowing them to slide down to the end of your nose. The golden chain clinks softly with every movement of your head.

He wonders when you learned to make them. You’ve always been so careful about the skills you acquire, but he thinks perhaps your mother might have taught you. Or his aunt, for how much she loves flowers, and for how much of her time as queen (he’s been told anyway) was spent doing such frivolous things as making daisy chains in the gardens. You’re so very meticulous with your actions, every choice carefully constructed. He knows you’ve been doing that less and less around him—perhaps it’s finally sinking in that he cares very little about your actions, that he finds everything you do to be enthralling. More likely you’ve exhausted yourself trying. You’ve certainly exhausted yourself attempting to rein him in, though he’d like to believe you’re beginning to allow yourself to enjoy his antics.

Posterity, he thinks, will paint him as you do—bold, brash, uncaring of tradition, unapologetic in pursuit of a woman far beneath his status. There are a great many reasons you hesitate to marry him, he doesn’t blame you for your doubt. Certainly when he was younger he’d never imagined himself the type of man you’d end up betrothed to; he couldn’t count on his fingers the number of more suitable matches for the both of you in the eyes of society, but whereas in his youth he might silence himself and go along with the whims of his advisors he’s lost all sense of decency now. His close call with death and the coup he’d spent years preparing for had rid him of any desire to compromise, and he stands now in a position where he can certainly refuse the very people who once held sway over him. And you appreciate all of that, he knows it. It’s one of the reasons he adores you so; beneath your veneer of decorum lies not a lady but a queen with desires all too different from those you’ve been forced to portray. He’s always known this, and to an extent he can’t find it within himself to regret the events that have led him to where he is today because if they hadn’t transpired he wouldn’t have you.

Satoru remembers a time in his youth when his mother made a passing mention that she enjoyed a certain hairstyle on young girls—two long braids, tied with ribbons. For months afterward all the upcoming court ladies wore it diligently, yourself included. He found it painful to see on you until he discovered that they made a lovely way to pull your nose from a book and fix your attention onto him, and that he could tug on the ribbons at the ends until they unfurled and he could pocket them to return later by tying them around the necks of one of his hunting dogs and sending it after you.

(If he were the kind of man you’d marry without hesitation he’d feel remorse for his childhood actions. Instead he’s the man you will marry, and he plots how to steal one of your hair ribbons again and return it in the same way. For memory’s sake.)

“They say you’re inhuman, you know.” You’ve finished the flower chain. His eyes don’t stray from your fingers as they nimbly connect the two ends and tie them together with a final stem into a thick circlet. “They said it a lot that night. They said you were the Gods’ fury made mortal.”

He snickers. “How dramatic.”

You lift yourself up onto your thighs, shuffle towards him further and reach out, and he bows his head to let you place your creation upon it. Your hand trails down when you let go, drifting over his ear and along his jaw as he lifts his head from its bow to look at you. You certainly mean to pull it away but his hand beats you to it, darting up to keep your palm against his cheek as you settle back down on the backs of your heels.

“I know why they came to that conclusion,” you say. “You terrified me when I saw you.”

“Did you think me inhuman?”

You hum, eyes tracing along the band of flowers now gracing his forehead, falling to rest on his hand over yours. “No. Never. Monstrous, perhaps. Odious. But very human.”

“You wound me. I might die by your cruelty.”

“Die, then.”

Satoru makes a show of it just for you. Falling back to sprawl on the ground, he gags violently, stabbing at his own heart with an invisible knife and convulsing with his tongue hanging out until you shriek for him to stop, voice filled with giggles. He takes that as a cue to still, to fall limp as if truly dead with eyes fluttering shut—then beckons you closer.

“I need…” he rasps out, barely audible.

You indulge him and do so. “My king?”

“…iss…”

“What?”

“True love’s kiss,” he repeats louder, pursing his lips expectantly. He doesn’t truly think you’ll do it, and you don’t—you lean in like you will, but bypass his lips entirely and bite his cheek instead.

He yelps, just for you, just so you’ll feel accomplished. And so he can see your smile, hear the smugness in your voice as you say, “It’s a miracle, you’ve come back to life.”

But he doesn’t give you weakness for free. No, he snakes his arms around your waist before you can pull back, and uses the grip to all but pull you on top of his lap as he sits up. Perhaps it’s his lack of insistence on you giving him a kiss, or perhaps he’s simply started to break down your walls enough, but whichever it is you don’t protest. Instead you seem to find flaws in the flower crown you’ve gifted him. Your lips purse, hands coming up to fiddle with the blooms. He realizes that he can’t stand a single moment of your attention on anything other than him, even if your fingers are nearly tangled in his hair.

“If I return to court with a crown of flowers made by my lover still on my head, do you suppose they’ll think me less inhuman?”

Your face falls at the suggestion, eyes widening in mortification. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“It's far more comfortable than that heavy gold. And I happen to personally adore the artisan who made it, so—”

“I don't trust you anymore, take it off! You’ve lost the right!” You attempt to remove it, but he reacts with the very reflexes that make him so inhuman, uses that monstrous height to lift his head higher than you can reasonably reach, though it doesn’t stop you from trying.

“It'd be rude of me to refuse a gift, my queen.” Laughing, Satoru holds you back with ease, eager for the excuse to put his hands all over you while you’re too worked up to feel self-conscious.

“Not yet,” you wail. “Not your queen yet, you knave!”

“Mine either way, though,” he replies smugly with a playful tug to the chain you still wear. “Covered in my presents. It’s only fair that I get to display a token you’ve given me, no?”

“No, it is not. You’ve stolen all of my outerwear and replaced it with these, I've no other choice. But you will not return to your advisors displaying that—that childish trifle, I won't allow it, you will not expose to the court that I made such a thing for yo—oh!”

He tackles you to the ground, careful not to even knock the wind out of you, though he steals your breath the moment you’re safe in his arms by pulling you into a kiss to keep you from talking further. He’d intended it to be faster, but his nose crashes into the tinted spectacles still upon your face and he’s filled with such ardor that he can’t help but deepen it.

Your hand slides behind his head, threads through his hair. He feels you snap a single stem between your fingers. The crown comes apart just as he takes a moment to pull away, and the flowers fall to scatter in the grass beneath him, a halo around your head. There’s a little smile on your face, your chest huffs with quiet laughter, and your palm slides down to the base of his hair. You use that hold and your other hand, which has fisted his tunic, to yank him down and connect your lips again.

Above, a cloud passes. Satoru can feel the sun shine warm on his back, hear the wind in the budding trees, smell the bite of melting snow and the petals of your wildflowers, yet there’s nothing that could distract him from the feeling of your kiss. His eyes close, he pushes closer though he hardly needs to with the way you still tug on his shirt. His arm comes up to brace next to your head, just to make sure he’s holding his own weight rather than crushing you, and the other leaves your waist to trail down your thigh and grip beneath your knee, shifting your leg to hook around him. If your mouth weren’t occupied he thinks you’d be lecturing him for such an obscene display in a place where anyone could stumble upon you—so he does well to keep it occupied, refusing to part even as your grip on his tunic loosens and he’s forced to grab your newly freed hand to pin it to the ground with fingers intertwined.

It's the first time you’ve ever kissed him. He already plots how to push you into doing it again when he finally pulls away, eyes locked on your swollen lips.

[the1975attheirverybest]

Being Funny In A Foreign Language

Chapter 9- “I Know A Place…”

A/N: the penultimate chapter. I hope you like it but let me know what you think either way.

Warnings: mostly smut I think. Scenes strung together with a loose thread of plot. Some mentions of mental illness but nothing too detailed?

———

“What do you mean?” Matty frowned, stepping aside to let her into the room.

“What happened to your guitar, Matty? I haven’t seen you play it in a while.” She crossed her arms as she spoke.

He could tell that her tone was accusatory. Clearly, she must know something. But unless he can somehow find out what she knows, he has no idea how to respond.

“To be fair….” He turned around, not wanting to look her in the eyes as he lies to her. “I haven’t played that thing onstage in— fuck, maybe seven years now!” He walked into the living room space and Amelia followed closely behind.

“Yeah, but you always have it around. When you’re writing, when you’re doing work for other people…you always inevitably circle back to it.”

Ordinarily, Matty would feel touched and excited by how well she knew him, but at the moment, their intimacy made it difficult to lie to her. His efforts to deflect were not yielding the results that he’d hoped for. He began to pace nervously around the room. “What’s this ab-bout, anyway?” his voice cracked, momentarily, but he regained control of the calm pretense. “ Do you, like, need a guitar? I could recommend a few instruments if you tell me what you need it for.”

“Oh for fucks sakes!” Amelia sighed, looking up at the ceiling in frustration. She couldn’t believe the nerve on him. The fact that he was willing to feign ignorance disappointed her. But she wasn’t sure if the she was disappointed in him for trying to lie, or in herself for thinking that he wouldn’t. “why’d you give it up?” She asked, bluntly. “Why did you give that guitar to Marcus Fontana? And why’d you keep it from me? Why wouldn’t you tell me about it?”

Oh, fuck. He hadn’t thought that far ahead. “I- erm, he- wanted it. And…I wanted something from him. Seemed like a f- fair trade?” That was the truth. As vaguely put as possible. But still truthful.

“You gave it up to get Joshua and I into the event, didnt you?” Amelia was overcome with emotion as she spoke. “Don’t lie to me, Matty. I already know.” She paused, on the verge of tears, taking deep breaths. “He mentioned something about it when we saw him. I knew right away, but….it seemed impossible. Too grand a gesture. You love that thing more than you love some real people that you know in your personal life. You wouldn’t just do that for a stupid exhibit.” She shook her head, as if objecting to what he’d done. “But, I just talked to Joshua. You did do it, didn’t you? You gave your guitar up for-“

“For you.”

The words slipped out of his mouth before he could think to stop himself. And now that they were out there, he felt immediately terrified. The silence scared him more than anything. The longer it went on, the more significant and dramatic his confession became. He needed to say something. Anything at all to make this moment pass.

“Is that what you came here to hear me say? That I gave it up for you? Fucks sakes! Alright. I gave it up for you. I- I- I gave up my guitar, one of a handful of my prized material possessions, so that you could go to this thing that you were dying to go to. So that you could have the experience, and meet the artists, and see the art that you have always loved and wanted to be in the presence of. There! I’ve said it. Happy now?”

Matty felt his legs begin to shake as he stood there, so he resumed his pacing to hide the fact that his knees were barely holding him up.

“W-why?”

“What’d you mean why?” He stopped again? in the middle of the room, turning to look at her with furrowed brows. A look that she was more than familiar with. Usually, it’s the look he would have on his face right before calling something, or someone, ‘stupid’ or ‘a fuckin dickhead.’ “‘Why?’” He scoffed. “Because I love you, Amelia.”

“No-“

“Because I fuckin love you. I’m in love with you and I would do anything for you. To see you smile. To know that you’re-“

“No, no. Stop.” Amelia shook her head repeatedly as he spoke. “No, no, no. Stop….stop it. Just- stop talking!”

Of all the ways that Matty has fantasized about confessing how he feels, the many scenarios that he ran in his head time and time again, he never once imagined her response to be “no.” It seemed improvable at the time. Now that it was happening, it felt like a huge oversight.

“You don’t love me!” She yelled, her eyes welling up with tears. “You don’t. Surely, you don’t. Surely you haven’t….felt that way about me and kept it from me. Letting me date other people. Letting me think that- that how I felt about you was unreciprocated, something that I needed to get over to save our friendship.”

Matty took a few steps towards her. “Amelia, it’s not like that at all-“

“Isn’t it? Really? Since- since when?” She stepped back the closer that he got to her.

“What?”

“Since when? How long have you felt this way?”

“Does it really matter? Love isn’t….its not something you can measure-“

“You’re not going to Matty your way out of this one. So just- just stop. Answer me. How long?”

“I- don’t know.” He shrugged. “It’s not like I can pinpoint a moment where I went from liking you as a friend to-“

Her eye rolls told him that he’d be better off not finished that thought. He considered her question a moment, in a genuine attempt to respond.

“Since we first slept together.”

“That’s was…” she paused, trying to count the time in her head.

Matty, of course, already knew the answer. “Ten months and two weeks.” He stated.

The confirmation overwhelmed her. Tears finally spilled from her eyes. This was vindication. This was proof, that this whole time, it wasn’t all in her head. The subtle touches, catches in his voice, the way he looked at her sometimes, whenever he thought she wasn’t looking, these ephemeral, impossible things that had, up until Matty, only existed in romance novels; they were all real. She wasn’t crazy. She wasn’t projecting her own unrequited love for him onto their interactions. But this was also frustration. Betrayal. The worst lie of omission.

“So you lied to me.” She shook her head, tears still streaming down her face. “You- you lied to me and you humiliated me. When I told you I loved you….you did every thing that you could to make it clear I was a hysterical hormonal little girl. Orgasm-drunk and confusing lust for love. I literally asked you to look into my eyes and tell me the truth and you lied through your teeth.”

Matty was shocked by the conversation that he found himself having. Was this a nightmare? How does him finally telling her how he feels turn into this. “No, no, no! I didn’t lie! I-“

“Even after you did all that…” she laughed in disbelief, “I came crawling back to you. I, I fell for it all over again. The whole ‘we’re just friends who sleep together’ act. Fuck- I’m such an idiot.”

“There was no crawling! You’re not an idiot!”

“Oh yes there was. There was. I was going to break up with Joshua for you. I told you I’d do it and you said no. And it’s my fault for letting you.”

Matty lunged forward placing his hands on her shoulders, looking into her tearful eyes. “Amelia,

Listen to me-“

“Don’t touch me!” She backed away, out of his grasp. “You claim you love me. I can’t believe you’d do this to me.” She placed her hand on the door knob. Looking back at him, unable to recognize the person standing in front of her. “You let me go on believing things that weren’t true. Every moment that we’ve spent together as friends, you were feeling something else. Was any of it ever genuine or ….”

“Amelia, wait. Please don’t leave. Stay. Let me explain!”

“Save your breath.” She turned around, opened the door, and walked out without looking back.

***

Amelia swiped her keycard, her hotel room door blinked a green light, indicating that she’d successfully unlocked it. She wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and remain there for the rest of her life. In fact, with tear stains still on her cheeks, she was mentally drafting the contents of the text that she was going to send Tobias and Patricia to let them know that she wouldn’t be joining them for work today.

“Oh my god, Joshua!” She yelped, nearly startled as she walked into the room.

“Oh, shit. Sorry, I’ll be out of your hair in a minute.” He said, zipping up one of his suitcases.

“Wait, what?”

“I didn’t wanna make this awkward. I was counting on you being with Matty right now. Thought I’d pack and leave while you were out.”

“No, no! Don’t be ridiculous. You stay. I’ll get a different room.”

“You don’t have to do that. It’s okay. I’ve already started packing.”

She walked over to him, placing her hand over his to stop him. “Please. It’s the least I can do.”

Joshua never could say no to her. Relenting, he smiled and nodded. “Fair enough. You did cheat on me.” He couldn’t help himself. “Sorry. Regretted that as soon as I heard myself say it. I’ll ummm….find a flight out soon. Just need a couple of days to get my shit together.”

Amelia looked down at her shoes.

“ I know I have no right to say this, but, I’m gonna miss you.”

Joshua chuckled. “No you won’t. You and Matty will get so wrapped up in each other that you’ll forget about my existence as soon as I’m outta here” he walked over to the coffee station and poured some water into the coffee machine.“Which is how it should’ve been in the first place. What are you doing back here, anyway? Why aren’t you gazing into Matty’s eyes right now?”

Amelia sat at the edge of the bed that they once shared, her head hanging low. “Not sure I wanna gaze into his eyes ever again.” She mumbled, just clearly enough for Joshua to hear.

“What? You’ve gotta be kidding me!”

“Joshua, please-“

“Woman! We broke up so you could ride off into the sunset with him. Not- not whatever this is!” He threw his hands up in the air in frustrated. “I swear to god…..”

“He lied to me, Joshua! He- I can’t trust him. He kept things from me. He had every chance to tell me. Every time that we were alone he could’ve brought it up and he chose not to. That’s not the behavior of someone who wants to be with me.”

“Yeah, I won’t comment on the cheating cuz….what I have to say is unkind. But, I swear on my nana’s life, Amelia, if you let this man go one more time…”

Amelia laughed. “Don’t bring your nana into this!”

“I’ve seen the way that he looks at you. I tried to write it off, ignore it, pretend it wasn’t there, but I know what I saw. Matty Healy loves you so much that he- well, he made friends with me! Helped me surprise you! Just between you and me, Amelia? I’m not sure that I would’ve done the same if I were him.” Joshua smiled. “Then again he WAS fucking you this entire time so I don’t know maybe he just pitied me.”

Amelia thought back to every moment that she and Matty had spent together recently. His declaration of love now painted them in different colors. Every time that he begged for her to hold his hand as she hurt him. Any time that he freely gave her control, insisting that he wanted whatever she wanted. That he would try anything she wanted him to try and put himself

Through whatever she wanted to inflict upon him. Any time that he would seemingly gain new life whenever she called him a good boy or praised him in any way. And all the times that he would ache in desperation for that praise, send himself into a frenzy, if she withheld any words. Bend over backwards trying to earn her approval. All of it felt so different now. It felt familiar because she’d experienced all of it herself. She knew what it was like to feel what he’d felt. After all، that’s how she’d felt with him. Back when they first started their undefined sexual relationship.

“Hear the man out” Joshua spoke again, redirecting her attention. “You owe it to yourself. Maybe you’re upset with him. Maybe you don’t trust him, or whatever. But you love him. So, at least give it a real shot. That way, if you decide you don’t want him anymore, you’ll at least know you tried. You won’t wonder for the rest of your life. And you won’t date other men while secretly sneaking into his bed at night.”

Amelia’s face felt red with shame. “And I’m so, so sorry about that. I- will apologize to you for the rest of my life, really.”

Joshua poured himself a cup of coffee. Then poured some for her as well.

“You owe me this, Amelia.”

“Excuse me?”

“After what you’ve done to me. I’m invested now. You can’t let my broken heart be for nothing.“ he smiled, playfully. “What? Too soon? I’m trying to be the bigger person here.”

Amelia let herself fall back on the bed, grabbing a pillow and covering her face with it, she groaned loudly.

***

Adam pressed the “pause” button, feeling his knees wobble as he stood up for the first time, in, longer than he’d care to admit. He answered the door to a stoned Matty, eyes bloodshot, pacing nervously by the door, biting on his fingernails.

“Matty?”

“Can I- erm, I can’t sleep.” He looked down at the floor, feeling stupid for coming here. “Could I hang out here for a bit?”

Adam nodded, placing a hand on his friend’s back as he walked into the room.

“You hungry?”

Matty didn’t seem to hear him, immediately drawn to the video game on the screen. “Is this new?”

“Yeah, yeah. Picked it up the other day in New York.” Adam decided he was going to share his snack, anyway. “Matty! Stop fucking with - don’t! No!!! You’ll ruin my high score. You’ve no idea how long it’s taken me to get here!”

“I have some idea.” Matty pointed towards the circle of crumpled candy wrappers and empty bottles that had accumulated around Adam’s seat.

Silently, Adam walked over to his backpack and produced an extra controller, plugging it in and sitting by Matty’s side.

“no word from Amelia, still?” He asked, carefully, as if treading on ice.

“Nope.”

Adam waited to see if he’d elaborate. But the terse response was his cue to restart the game. He knew Matty well enough to know that if he wanted to talk about it, he’d say more.

***

“Amelia, please! We should talk.” Matty trailed after her as she moved from room to room backstage, giving a helping hand wherever needed. Not that it was her job to do so. They had crew members for that. But she needed to busy herself with something, anything at all, to avoid a conversation with Matty.

“I miss you.” He stated simply and concisely.

“Matty, please,” she stopped in her tracks, her back still towards him, “don’t do this.”

“I’m not doing anything. I wanna talk.”

“Not right now. Im busy.”

Before he could object, Ross and Adam rushed over, “c’mon mate we’re gonna be late!”

Matty heard them but refused to budge for a moment. Hoping that the urgency of time might compel her to soften. She just looked at Adam and Ross apologetically. Reluctantly, he allowed his friends to push him in the direction of the stage, but his eyes remained on Amelia until he could no longer see her.

****

The restaurant lights felt too harsh on his tired eyes so he put his sunglasses on inside as he walked in. They only shielded his vision for a few moments though. Soon enough, he saw his reflection in a mirror on the wall and he decided that he looked too much like a rockstar, so the glasses had to go.

The hostess walked him over to the table where his party had already arrived. Ross, Jamie, George, Charli, Adam, Carly, and a few friends of friends who happened to all be in the same city at the same time, and, of course, Amelia.

The whole night felt like an out of body experience. Perhaps being hungover from the previous night was already a bad start. But Matty had ended up next to Carly, putting him directly across the table from Amelia, with a perfect view of her every move. he spent his night alternating between glancing over at Amelia, wishing that she’d look in his direction or that he would at least get a hint of how she night be feeling , and asking Carly about things back home, the baby, and catching her up on some tour highlights. By the end of the night, he was exhausted and disoriented. He felt embarrassed for even entertaining the idea of sticking around, waiting to see if she would approach him. But, if he was being honest with himself, he wouldn’t bare it if he did stay behind only for her to walk past right past him, without acknowledgement. so, after dinner, he excused himself and rushed back to the hotel, crawling into bed instantly.

Yet, once again, he found it impossible to fall asleep.

It had been several nights since Amelia stopped coming by and getting into bed with him. He’d grown accustomed to having her there. He missed the smell of her hair right up against his nose as they desperately pressed their bodies together, the feeling of her arms around him helping to soothe him to sleep. Who would’ve thought that he’d see more of her when she was in a relationship than when she’d finally broken up with Joshua.

He entertained the option of drinking again. But the very notion felt pathetic. So, he ended up in George’s room. Asleep on the floor long after he should’ve gone to sleep.

***

Tobias, Patricia, and Amelia’s eyes were glued to the door, impatiently waiting for Matty’s arrival. It had been too long. Tobias has already shuffled and reshuffled the papers that were in front of him several times. Patricia clicked her retractable pen rhythmically and tapped her fingers against the table. Even refilled everyone’s coffee as they waited. Amelia, on the other hand, dreaded seeing him.

To everyone’s surprise (and Amelia’s relief) when the doors burst open, it was George who appeared in front of them.

“Matty’s…well, he’s asleep. I- think he needs it, so I’ve turned off his alarm. I’ll fill in for him.”

Their check-in was cut short, only going over the essentials to make sure the stage building would be ready by the time that they needed it to, and confirming with everyone that the now well-oiled, machine-like system that they’d developed after a year and a half of this tour was going according to plan.

“George? Umm….How’s he doing?” Amelia asked as they made their way to the exit.

“As well as can be expected of someone who has confessed their love for their close friend of many years only to have their heart crushed, stomped on, and shredded.”

“That’s not fair.” Amelia felt like her own heart was being shredded.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” George smiled softly. “He’s….don’t worry about him. We’ve got him. he’s rotating between each of our rooms every night, so we’re keeping an eye on him.”

Amelia nodded. “Good, good.”

“Can I just ask, just between us, what the fuck are you doing?” Once again, George had let his tongue go.

“Pardon me?”

“He told you that he loves you. Do you have any idea how much work that took him?”

Amelia rolled her eyes. “Of course you’d say that. You’re on his side!” She sighed. “I need time, George.”

“Time for what? The two of you have been obsessed with each other since- since- for as long as I can remember.”

“It shouldnt be work. Telling someone that you love them. It isn’t supposed to be this hard, don’t you think? Besides, he- he lied to me, George! He kept things from me. He made decisions for me. Assumed what’s best for me and what relationship I want to be in, and reached the conclusion that I wouldn’t want to be with him, all on his own. Without ever mentioning it to me. Do you really think that’s a good start to a relationship?”

“Has it ever occurred to you that those decisions he made, though misguided, have more to do with how he feels about himself than how he feels about you? Look- this conversation doesn’t make any sense. You should be having it with him. Not me.”

“I’m trying. But he has this….effect on me. I don’t know how to say no to him.”

“Then don’t. Say yes to him. Or for fucks sakes put him out of his misery.”

Amelia shrugged in defeat. “So, like, kill him? Don’t you think that’s a bit extreme?…sorry. I was just making a joke.”

***

Amelia watched from the side of the stage as Matty held up the tech workers by hogging one of the machines. He wriggled cords, pressed buttons, and turned dials on the soundboard with a deep confused look on his face. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck me. Fuckin hell.”

“Matty?” She hovered over his shoulder and he crouched down to check the wires that he’d already check on seconds ago. “What’s going on?”

“I can’t get this thing to work!” He jammed it into the outlet.

“Oh, I’ll …go get George.”

“No! Don’t do that!” He caught himself being a tad too angry and paused, deliberately adjusting his tone. “I’m…trying something. He won’t like me messing about. Ruining his….psychotic ‘system’ that he’s so protective of.”

She laughed, in an attempt to lighten the mood. “Well, maybe I can help?”

“You can’t. It’s- too complicated. You wouldn’t understand.”

She scoffed. “Yeah, right. Cuz I’m a certified idiot.” She turned around. “My bad. Won’t try to be helpful again.”

“Wait, what? Amelia! That’s not what I meant!”

“Fuck off.” She yelled out as she made her way out of the room.

***

Amelia set her book, face down, onto the duvet slowly, careful not to make any noise. She hadn’t ordered any room service, or contacted the front desk to send anything up to her room. She checked her phone for any texts or missed calls from anyone who might have tried to reach her through other means first, but nothing came up. This is why she hates being a woman, traveling solo, in strange places with dubious door locks.

She tiptoed over to the door, taking a peek. Shaking her head and cursing under her breath, she opened the door.

“Matty, what’re you doing here?”

He leaned against the doorframe. “Full disclosure: I’m a little bit buzzed right now. Not like off my tits or anything. But I’ve had a couple of drinks. if you send me away, I’ll understand.”

“Come in and be quiet. It’s late.” As always, she never could say no to him.

“I- I just wanted to come over here and say I’m sorry. I can’t stand the thought of you being angry at me. It makes me sick to my stomach. I can’t sleep at night. I feel so- I don’t even know.” He shrugged, feeling suddenly helpless after making a dramatic entrance. His confidence was deflating as he looked into her eyes. He took a few hesitant steps, and, to his surprise, she didn’t back away.

“What I’m about to say…. I probably wouldn’t say completely sober,” he stepped even closer, more confidently now. “but- I think- the fact that you’re upset with me means that you love me, too. You love me, still. If you’d moved on by now, this wouldn’t be so difficult. You’d just….gently let me down and we’d move on.”

Amelia felt tears prickling her eyes.

“I get it. I’m a dickhead. I just wanted to be perfect for you. I wanted to wait until things were perfect. Not while I’m in the middle of a public crucifixion. I- I’ve ruined everyone who’s been associated with me. I mean, you’ve seen the Charli and Rina nonsense. And Jack, and..people I haven’t spoken to in ages….im on this insane tour where I try to mother a naked body double of myself onstage every night for some reason.” He giggled at his own words. “And- well, you know my state of mind. I just didn’t want you getting caught up in all that. I didn’t want to bring you down with me. I promise I wasn’t trying to hide things from you or make you choices for you. I- I just wanted to spare you the burden of…well, me.”

He looked her directly in the eyes, gently holding her by the shoulders. “I love you, Amelia. Forgive me?” He whispered, wiping a stray tear away with the pad of his finger. “Yeah? Say you forgive me please?” He dipped his head down, his nose brushing against hers. “Love me? Please?”

He kissed her lips. Her eyes fluttered shut, leaning into him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. His kissing grew desperate, whining and moaning into her mouth. She bit his lower lip, her hands roaming the hair on the back of his head.

He pulled away, regretful that his lungs couldn’t hold out even longer, and smiled against her lips.

“So, does this mean.. that I’m forgiven?”

Instead of responding, Amelia pulled him into her bed. She leaned further back the more that he inched closer, kissing her once more, until she was lying flat on her back and he was hovering over her.

Their clothes quickly discarded in a heap by the foot of the bed, Matty kissed up and down her body, hungrily, his breath hot against her skin, as he whispered “I love you” and “I’ve missed you” over and over like a prayer. His fingers ran down her sides, raising goosebumps all over her skin, his hands would find her breasts as he kissed below her stomach, and grab her hips as he kissed her neck, she was a mess by time that he’d dipped below her waist.

“May I please taste you?” He asked, softly, glancing up at her through his eyelashes.

“God, what’re you waiting for?” She pushed his face down between her legs, perhaps a little too aggressively. Matty’s chuckle was muffled by her skin, she felt the air of his breath in her core and throughout her whole body.

“Oh- fuck- that’s…so good.” She sighed, her eyes closed, a smile on her face.

Matty made quick work of sucking and licking into her, just the way that he knew she liked. Her body jumped abruptly when she felt his mouth on her clit, moaning unabashedly.

The wet sounds that his mouth made of her cunt, coupled with her moaning and whining, made Matty lightheaded with arousal. His own hips pushed instinctively into the bed as he attempted to steady hers.

“M-matty?”

Amelia tapped his shoulder when he didn’t seem to hear her. “Matty, honey?” She paused to admire the blissful look in his eyes and the glistening of his face. He was growing more eager to please her by the second, losing all sense of himself, sinking into submission.

“I- umm…need you inside me. Can’t wait any longer.”

Still panting, Matty nodded and propped himself up quickly, anxious to do as she says.

“Oh. Erm….condom.” He whispered, looking around for his discarded jeans.

“Check the nightstand, baby. It’s closer anyway.”

Matty fumbled and slipped in his attempt to slide over to the side of the bed, his entire body shaking and anxious. Amelia giggled at the mess that he’d been reduced to.

“You stay put, I’ll get it.”

“I can do -“

“Don’t you dare move okay?”

She handed him the packet, noticing that his receiving hand was trembling, she scanned his face carefully for a moment. “It’s okay. I’ll do it.”

“Sorry.” His cheeks turned read as he watched her roll it onto him.

“Nothing to be sorry about.”

It always amazed her how their bodies responded differently. For Amelia, being with Matty was freeing because it felt safe, steady, the unpredictability never worried her because at the forefront of her mind was the fact that, no matter what happened next, it was never going to hurt her. Matty’s desire, on the other hand, was different. Intense, wild, almost frenetic.

She clutched the duvet with her fists as he pushed into her, watching him throw his head back and groan in pleasure. All the anticipation that had him shaking had now come to a head. His body overwhelmed with stimulation from

Head to toe he remained perfectly still for a moment.

“Fuck…you’re so-“ his words dissolved into a gasp of pleasure feeling her stretch around him. “Tight.” He finally let out, smiling.

“Perfect for me.”

She’d forgotten just how perfectly their bodies fit together, how precise the movement of his hips could be, how well he’d knew her movements and preferences. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into her chest and feeling the weight of his body on top of hers.

Matty buried his face in the space between her neck and her shoulder, moaning and whining into her ear as his hips rolled against hers. The sound of his voice and the shockwaves of pleasure overtook her.

“M-matty, I’m gonna cum.”

The words were barely out of her mouth before he felt her clench around him, her body straining against the weight of his.

His own pleasure followed closely after, feeling her cum all over his cock was just enough to tip him over the edge.

“May I-“

“Yes, go on, Matty. Cum for me.”

His face in the crook of her neck, she felt his thrusts grow harder, less intentional, he moaned out her name as he let go.

They both almost fell asleep in the perfect stillness, basking in bliss. It was a long time before either one of them made a move. It was Matty lazily turning his head to kiss her neck.

She smiled at the gesture, wrapping her arms around him.

“So, I think we have a lot to figure out now.” She mused.

Matty lifted his head ever so slightly to look at her. “Wanna figure it out over some dinner?”

She chuckled, her chest rising and falling under his. “I don’t think this conversation is the kind you wrap up over dinner. Unless you’re planning a very long feast. Which doesn’t sound too bad actually. I’m starving.”

“No, I know. But, we can start it over dinner. No rush, right?”

***

“Give me your phone.”

Matty blinked rapidly, looking down at Amelia’s open palm. she, on the other hand, stared right at him with an unwavering gaze. “Hand it over, Healy.”

“No.” He enunciated dramatically, trying, and failing, to his the grin on his face.

“What did you just say to me?”

Matty giggled, his sweet, melodic laugh almost wearing Amelia down. “Let me see, hmm….i believe I said ‘No.’”

“Alright, you leave me no choice. If I count to three and your phone isn’t in my hand, I’m gonna make sure you can’t take your shirt off and slut around onstage for the rest of the tour without the entire world seeing what I’ve done to your body.”

Amelia’s words sent a thrill through him, but he was adamant on winning this round. “That…sounds kinda hot, actually.”

Amelia burst into laughter. The sound of her voice always made him happy, even if he was rather confused at the moment.

“What? What’re you laughing about? Oi! Knock it off!”

“Sorry; sorry. I was just picturing the look on Jamie’s face when you took off your shirt and revealed big, bright red marks all over your chest and back.”

Matty rolled his eyes, groaning dramatically. “Fuckin hell….fine, fine. You can have my phone. Delete whatever you like, I’ll just download the app all again tomorrow.”

“Bitch, please. Do you think I was born yesterday?”

Amelia unironically calling him ‘bitch’ amused him endlessly. “What- did you just call me?”

He asked in between giggles, but she was too engrossed in her work.

“Alright. So, I’ve changed your Twitter password. Now I’m going to delete the app. On to Instagram….”

“Fuckin hate you.”

“You love me.”

“I do.” He admitted without a fight.

“It’s for your own good, you know. Alright, I’m done with Instagram. Now, I’ll change your Apple ID Password.”

Matty plopped down on the bed dramatically. Whining and kicking his feet. “You’re no fun! What if I want memes! Hmm? What then?”

“Use google.”

“What am I? a hundred years old?” He sat up quickly, offended by her suggestion.

“Here.” She handed him his phone back. “Don’t worry. I’ll text you memes every day. Unless of course I found out that you’ve been googling yourself.”

The petulant act crumbled away as soon as Matty’s eyes met hers. He smiled instinctually, already forgetting what it was that he was complaining about moments prior. He leaned in, kissing her lips, his eyelashes tickling her skin.

“Thank you. I know you’re trying to help.”

***

Matty’s naked body was drenched in sweat, his lips swollen, his thighs shaking almost as hard as the vibrator that Amelia had strapped to one of them.

“A-Amelia? I’m- ohhh… I’m dizzy.” He pulled against his restraints, too weak to even make them rattle.

“It’s cuz you’re so desperate.” She smirked.

“Please? I- I don’t know how much more I can take….feel like I’m on the edge of- of-“ he exhaled a puff of hot air “passing out.”

“That’s fine by me.”

“Fuck! Wh- what?”

His shock amused her. “Tell you what, let’s make a deal.”

“A-anything you want just please let me cum.”

“You’ve got two options. You get to cum right now-“

“Yes, yes! I choose that one, yes- let’s do that one!”

Amelia chuckled, “hold on let me finish. Hear me out.” She sat down on the bed to be at eye level with him. “You can either cum right now BUT then I won’t touch you for a whole week. ORRRR…you get another ruined orgasm and we carry on as usual.”

“What? Jesus fuckin Christ! Why?! Why- why won’t you touch me?”

She shrugged. “Which option do you want?”

Matty stared blankly ahead, more sweat pouring down his body, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He felt the pleasure that he’d been warding off for ages rise up again. His legs trembling.

“Co-could you- erm- turn it off so- I can think for a bit? Please?”

“Nope. You gotta think with the vibrator on you.”

He let out a pathetic whine.

“So…if I cum, you won’t touch me for a week…does that mean-“

She took mercy on him and finished his thought for him, “it means no sex, no hugs, no hand-holding. No physical contact of any sort.”

“No- no cuddles?” His eyes widened.

She laughed, taken off guard by his surprisingly endearing concern. “No cuddles.”

He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, attempting to scrape some focus together to weigh his options. “If- if I let you ruin my orgasm- when- uhh” he paused, his eyebrows shooting up, “oh god. I…think I’m gonna-“ he swallowed whatever moisture had remained in his mouth, his lips sticking together.

“If you choose a ruined orgasm nothing changes. Might let you cum tonight. Or it might be next week. Or next month. We just carry on with what we’re doing.”

���Oh god. I can’t! I can’t choose! You choose for me!”

She watched his stomach tighten as he did his best to repress his pleasure. “What’s the fun in that?”

He attempted to smile but his confused state of mind and loss of control over his body made it difficult.

“Okay…okay. I - I choose- no orgasm. Don’t wanna cum. Ruin it if you want. Or- or keep edging me. I won’t cum. Promise.”

“Awe, really?” She rushed over to him and pulled his dangling head back so they could lock eyes. “Are you sure about that? You look ready to give up.”

“I’m sure. No orgasm.”

He felt high on the sensation of her hand cupping his face and was never more certain of a choice in his life. He’d never willingly give up a week of that.

Amelia reached over and untied his left wrist, helping to bring his hand down to his lap.

“Here’s the best bit,” she smiled. “You get to ruin your own orgasm.”

“Beg your fuckin pardon?”

There he was. Defiant and dramatic as ever. The matty that she knew was still in there. She giggled.

“Mhm. You heard me. Whenever you’re ready. You take away your own pleasure.” She stepped back. To give him space and to get a full view.

“Why? Can’t it just be you? Please?”

“I wanna see if you’d have the guts to do it.”

He thought about her words for a second, responding with a weak and small voice “ I’d do anything for you.” He resigned himself to his fate and brought his hand down to the bottom of the vibrator. His shaky fingers circling the control buttons to make out which button was the one he was going to need. “G-gonna, Erm- count out loud. For you.”

She nodded.

Matty counted slowly, breathlessly, on the count of 3, he let go, getting ready to cum, and just as his body began to relax, he turned the toy off, the vibrations stopping abruptly.

He screamed in pain his hips reflexively thrusting forward, chasing the nonexistent stimulation. His cock twitching involuntarily, his own cum hitting his face.

“Fuck! Ow! Hurrrtsss so- much” a high pitched whimper left his lips. His hard cock, sensitive, twitched slightly. He fought the sting of tears in his eyes.

Amelia attempted to act calm about it, but a piece of her hated seeing him in so much pain. Even when it was pain that he’d agreed to and that she enjoyed. She rushed over to him, too quickly and worriedly for someone who was meant to revel in putting him through this.

“Hey, Matty…” she spoke softly, hesitantly approaching the bed, unsure if he wanted her close or if he needed a minute.

“I- did it.” Matty whispered, his voice slightly strained from his earlier crying.

She was relieved to hear him, hurrying to kiss his lips. “You did it. You did so fuckin well.”

“Yeah? I was good?”

“You were the best!”

He sighed, relieved. “Okay. Good. Cuz I’m quite competitive.”

Amelia laughed silently, shaking her head at him.

“Right. Let’s untie you here…” she reached over to undo his right wrist, and then his ankles.

“Are we finished?” Matty asked with a soft tone that almost melted her heart.

“I think that’s enough for tonight. You’re drained.”

Amelia and Matty sat side by side, his spinning head resting on her shoulder. Every once in a while, she would nudge him and bring a water bottle to his lips, urging him to take a sip and replenish the fluid that he’d lost. He lacked the energy to express his gratitude but Amelia knew he was thankful anyway. He didn’t need to say anything.

“Matty? Can I ask - I mean… you were on the verge of busting like a few times tonight. Why- why didn’t you choose that option?”

“You don’t think I wanted to?” He laughed.

“Well, why didn’t you? I gave you the chance.”

“Didn’t wanna go without your touch for a whole fuckin week.” He stated simply as if it was the most obvious truth.

“Dirty boy.”

He smiled. “Nah, I don’t mean that sexually. I mean this…right now. Just…being able to touch you and feel you touch me.” He nuzzled into her.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too, Amelia.” His heart nearly jumped out of his body hearing himself say those words. “But…erm…Sexually is nice too, don’t get me wrong…”

***

Matty ran across the airport terminal, his backpack bouncing along, weighing him down. His feet doubled their speed as he got closer and closer to catching up with her. Finally, he tapped her shoulder, quickly intertwining their hands together.

Amelia jumped, startled. She turned around to find Matty’s hand in hers, his other hand offering her a bouquet of flowers.

“Are those for me? When did you-“

“Flower shop over there.” He kissed her cheek, his arm reaching over to take her suitcase.

“Thank you…wow. What’s the occasion?”

Matty shrugged. “Dunno. Saw a family buying some for…I presume someone that they’re picking up or whatever. Figured why not. You deserve flowers too.”

“That’s sweet of you, Matty. Did you have a good flight?” She squeezed his hand.

“Would’ve been better if you’d sat next to me.”

“I…know. But I figured you have a hard time with flights and….i don’t know. Maybe you’d want some space. Hann always seems to know what to do when you’re overwhelmed.”

Matty nodded. “It was good to hang out with the boys, yeah. But I wouldn’t have minded having you there. Did you have a good flight?”

“Perfect. Had dinner and a drink, put on a face mask, went right to sleep.”

Matty’s eyebrows shot up. “You and I handle travel very differently.”

***

“Remind me again why we’re doing this?” Amelia stood over him, lighting the candles one by one and gleefully watching him squirm.

“I- fucked up.” He winced in anticipation of anything happening to his bare chest.

“Be more specific.” She clicked her tongue.

“I’ve been ignoring all the rules. For over a week. I haven’t…really had a good nights sleep or a proper meal in ages.”

“And I warned you.” Amelia felt her frustration regain its power as she thought about his recently actions.

“I’m sorry.”

She smiled. “You’re not. But you’re about to be.”

Matty whined, squeezing his eyes shut.

Molten wax pooled in the middle of the candle, Amelia tilted it, holding it over Matty’s chest and watching the liquid tip over the edge and drip down onto his skin.

“Oh FUCK!” He hissed, his body jumping at the sensation.

“Eh. That wasn’t too bad. I should do it over your nipples now.”

“What- no! Please- OH MY- fuckkkk. That HURTS!” He yelled.

“Breathe, Matty, breathe. Open your eyes. Look at me…. There you are. Prettiest boy. Listen, you know you can tap out, right?”

He nodded, his pained expression relaxing gradually.

“Okay. Just checking. Now, gotta do it to your other nipple.”

“Christ! That- is-“ he gasped, his body shuddering in pain.

The more his tolerance built up, the more aggressive Amelia got with her wax, drawing shapes of different sizes and colors all over his chest? stomach, and circling the tattoo right above his hip. She had him crying and apologizing in no time. But it wasn’t until she’d asked matty to turn around so she could torture his calfs and underside of his knees that his worst pain hit him.

“Matty?” She called out to him as she set down her candles. “Matty, love, look at me, please.”

His sweat and tear cover face turned towards her. The look in his eyes told her all she needed to know.

“How’s your pain right now?”

“I’m fine.”

Amelia remained quiet. giving him a chance to change his answer. She repeated her question, again “how’s your pain right now?”

“Keep- keep going. I can take it.”

She sighed and rolled her eyes before getting up to blow the candles out. “You’re not getting this are you?”

Matty had to admit that his head was foggy with pain, Adrenalin, and the desperate desire to atone for his mistakes, but still, he felt he’d done nothing wrong.

“I’m tapping out.” Amelia announced. “I’m calling red. We’re done. This is over.”

Matty sat up quickly, his head spinning from the sudden movement. “What? Why! What have I done? I’m sorry! Amelia, please! I don’t wanna make more mistakes-“

“You haven’t made any more mistakes. That’s the thing, Matty. It’s the same mistake that you keep making over and over again. You burn yourself out, neglect your own wellbeing, just to accomplish the things that you think will make you worthy of the most fundamental needs.”

Matty felt her words like daggers to the heart. He knew this about himself. But he liked to pretend that it worked for him. Listening to Amelia lay it out for him so bluntly felt like a betrayal of confidence.

“You did it all week when you ignored sleep and food and rest to squeeze in every bit of work possible. And you did it just now by forcing yourself to take more than you can handle to make me happy. I pushed your limit on purpose. To see if you’d tap out. And you didn’t. But I know you were in pain.” She broke her own heart as she spoke. “I’ve - never - seen you writhe and bite down on the bedding so hard before.” She sighed, disappointed that her excitement had yielded the exact result that she knew it would. “I can’t have you treating yourself so poorly. And- honestly, we can fuck around with pain like this if I can’t trust that you’ll safe word out of the situation whenever you’re no longer having fun. I punish you so that you don’t have to punish yourself. What you’re doing, forcing your body through….its never gonna work.”

She watched him tug at the duvet nervously and knew that he was overwhelmed. She wished she knew how to help him process whatever was going on with him. The fact that this was reaching levels of concern beyond her capacity to handle scared her. He needed more help that she could give him.

***

Tonight’s show was amazing. Amelia spoke softly, running her fingers through his hair. She was half certain that he’d fallen asleep with his head in her lap.

He hummed in response, proving her wrong. “Was, wasn’t it?” He mumbled, his words slurring, voice laced with sleep.

“You wanna go to bed?” She suggested

“Wanna stay with you.”

“The idea is that…well…I’d be in the bed with you.”

Matty smiled, taking a deep breath and mustering all his leftover energy to open his eyes slowly. “Hi.” He looked up at her. “I just mean…we haven’t had a chance to spend time together in a minute. Just us.”

“I know. But you’re tired. Which is understandable. You put on a great show. I can’t imagine having any energy left after that…’People’ performance.”

A slow, self-satisfied smile grew on his face. He blushed at the compliment. “I was pretty good, wasn’t I…”

“You all were.”

Matty sighed, relaxing further into the bed. “The thing about us, Amelia, is that-“

“You just keep getting better baby?”

Matty chuckled loudly, his whole body shaking as he laughed. His sleepiness definitely made everything seem funnier. “I love that you can read my mind.”

***

Amelia’s heart pounded in her chest as she shuffled out of bed, rushing to the door. She checked to see who was knocking at her door at this ungodly hour. Relieved that it was Matty, she opened the door quickly.

“What on earth brings you-“ the look on his face rendered her instantly speechless. “Matty what’s wrong?”

“My head is- I don’t know. I can’t stop thinking. I’m so anxious. I can’t sleep. Brain feels so full. Like it’s going to explode.”

She didn’t hesitate to wrap her arms around him and pull him in for a tight hug. “It’s okay. You’re okay, Matty. Breathe, my love.”

She gently guided him into the bedroom, rubbing slow circles into his back.”

“Oh, fuck. You were asleep weren’t you? I woke you up didn’t I? I - I shouldn’t have come here, I’m sorry…I’ll - I’ll leave.”

He made an attempt to pull away, but Amelia held on to him, perhaps, too aggressively, “no! You’re not going anywhere”

She held his hand, leading him around the room, to bed, urging him to sit down. “Stay here. I’ll turn on the light and get you some tea or something.”

“Don’t want any tea, Amelia. I just…I want….”’

“What do you want?”

“I want you. Just you.”

She slid into bed next to him, letting him toss and turn, and wiggle around until he got comfortable. When she was certain that his nervous energy had stopped simmering, she pulled him into her chest listening to his breathing mellow as he l focused less on what was going on inside his head and more on the feeling of her skin against his.

In the harsh light of day, Matty’s panic felt even worse. like a hangover without the reckless indulgence of the night before. He knew he couldn’t continue to feel this way for much longer.

“I think I need help.” He suddenly announced, breaking the silence in the room as Amelia had busied herself with arranging their room service breakfast.

“What do you mean?”

“Professional help.”

“Oh. O-Kay. Umm…that’s good! It’s good, right?”

“I have no fuckin clue.” He spoke slowly, his voice getting lower and lower with each word.

This didn’t seem like breakfast conversation, so Amelia let go of the cutlery and sat on the bed next to him.

She held his hand in hers. “It’s good, Matty. This is good. It’s the right thing to do.”

“I don’t know that it is. I don’t think im the sort of person who does well with relinquishing control to the authority of others.”

She couldn’t argue with him there.

“The very notion of therapy depends on someone having privileged access to my brain. Knowing more about me than me. Does that not sound utterly absurd? That’s fuckin mental!”

“Well, I wouldn’t put it that way. They don’t know more about you than you do. They just know more about whatever….psychological disorder you’ve got and they know ways around it or whatever.”

Matty rolled his eyes. “What if- what if that’s not true. What if ‘disorder’ is just a word for weird. Like, weird isn’t always a bad thing.”

“No, no.” Amelia shook her head. “Respectfully, nope.” She squeezed his hand “you are more than just your fucked up brain. And the fact that you identify your entire existence with the thing that’s hurting you is proof that you’re fucked up, kinda.”

“Right.” Matty nodded along.

“Look, you always say that you don’t want to be the kind of person who thrives off of drama, right? You refuse the idea that an artist needs to be fucked up in order to make great art, right?”

“Of course.”

“There’s always this notion that…like…the best artists were great because they were mentally ill. That’s not a thing. Except in tv and film where like characters must suffer to think great thoughts. People always say “oh maybe Van Gogh was a bit crazy but he made great art because he was crazy. That’s just not true! The guy cut off his ear!!!”

Matty giggled. “Gonna cancel you for using the word crazy by the way. Just wait until I tell Twitter. I’ll get myself uncanceled by feeding you to them.”

She rolled her eyes. “Or your example-“

“Right. The Burroughs thing. I’d rather his wife have lived than have read Queer. I get it. I get it. You think you’ve bested me with my own logic. Ugh. Fine.”

Amelia’s face lit up. Proud of herself for disabusing him of his misconceptions. “Fine? Really? As in, you’ll try therapy?”

“I’ll fuckin try. But if they put me on pills and I lose my sparkle, it’ll be your fault.”

“Please. If it were possible, your sparkle would’ve faded a while ago.” She reached over to kiss him.

That kiss was the final push that he needed. Matty waited for her to go into the bathroom after breakfast, and he pulled out his phone.

“Hey, Louis, you alright? Mhm. Right, so, listen. I’d love to chat — maybe I’ll call you back later— but I’m in a hurry. I just wanted to ask if you’ve spoken to mom and dad? And they’re fine with it? Right, no. It’s better if you deliver it. I’ll just fly you out whenever. Text me some dates and stuff. We’ll get it sorted. Okay, cool. Cheers, then. Talk to you soon.”

[quillkiller]

Jen i would absolutely love for you to go on a rant, short or long whatever, about why people seem to hate tall lily so much? Or even lesbian lily? I feel like a lot of people act as though you HAVE to headcanon her as short but if you bring up canon they’re like “nobody gaf about canon anymore” 😭

hello babes i would LOVE to rant about tall lily, feminism & lesbianism.. 🤍

ive said this before, but people hate ugly women!! and an ugly woman is measured by how desired she is through patriarchal standards/a heteronormative lense. and especially, girls are terrified of being ugly. which is honestly really sad:((( i am too !!! still !! as ive also said before, i haven’t shaved my legs (or anything on my body) since i was 20 and i often wear shorts during the summer. it doesn’t make me uncomfortable anymore but i would be lying if i said i didnt notice how certain people (mainly men) treat me differently !! and like. a patriarchal society loves a petite submissive breedable woman and a lot of women have a hard time breaking free from the patriarchal choke hold/are scared of toeing the line outside of male validation. and i get it ! i still fill in my eyebrows and eyelashes because i cant get it out of my head that im ugly or look tired without it. its hard !!!!! people just hate tall lily because people hate ugly women and ugly women are measured by patriarchal standards

people hate lesbian lily because people hate lesbians. as soon as people realise that lesbians genuinely have no interest in men they freak the Fuck Out. and people become hostile. like what do gay men, bi men, bi women & straight women all have in common…… being attracted to men. they all have a common ground, a middle where they can meet. and lesbians dont go there ! lesbians aren’t relatable. lesbians aren’t easy to understand because being a lesbian means being on the outside of absolutely everything. and people like genuinely can’t (and wont) comprehend that. like people honestly dont comprehend that lesbians have no desire to form relationships with men romantically and oftentime even platonically!! like people CANT wrap their heads around that. lesbianism can be very lonely and very isolating because it’s the one and only sexuality about dedicating your life to women only ! it’s the only sexuality that excludes men. and people hate women ! and cant comprehend not prioritizing men or male validation ! so people hate lesbian lily because people just either hate lesbians or simply don’t care for lesbians because they can’t (if they’re not lesbians themselves) make it about themselves lmao and why would they ?? women are the secondary sex (already less interesting) so why would it interest anyone to talk about lesbian lily if she’s a lesbian (exclusively attracted to the secondary sex). thats no fun unfortunately

[frustratingfantasy]

Flyboy | Chapter Two

Chapter one

If the coffee wasn’t sobering enough then that sure as hell was.

You and Bradley start walking to the diner to grab a late bite to eat, perhaps a coffee to sober up the slight buzz you had going. You looked up to the sky searching for the moon, to find only darkness and stars. You glance over at him, realizing just how tall he is. “Did you always want to be a pilot?” You ask.

“Mmyeah, I did. Ever since i was a little kid. My dad was a pilot. And there was never any other option in my mind.” You go to cross the street. Once you get to the sidewalk, he casually places himself on the outside. Walking closest to the street.

“It must feel so exhilarating.” You stretched your arms out towards the sky. “To encapsulate freedom in a moment,” you drop your arms back down to your sides.

“Richard Bach said, ‘a pilot lives in a world of perfection, or not at all.’” He paused in thought, before continuing. “You know some people are terrified by planes. You think youd ever want to learn to fly?” He asks.

“I mean… of course i would. It sounds like a dream.” You walk in silence for a few moments. Then you look up to him, eyes wide, eyebrows raised. “Will you teach me?”

Bradley laughs a wholesome laugh, “sure, I’ll teach you.”

“Here’s the best diner in town.” You say as you approach a neon open sign. Bradley opens the door for you, following you in. You grab a menu from the vacant hostess stand and walk to a corner booth, sliding into the red cushion.

“Well you sure know your way around,” Bradley mentions as he slides in across from you.

An older grey haired woman comes out of a swinging door in the back and makes eye contact with you, throwing a smile. “Is that y/n… and with a guest!?” She says shockingly as she approaches the table. “Do my eyes deceive me?”

You lift the menu to cover your face, “Susan, don’t embarrass me.” The diner, and more specifically Susan, has served you many late nights coming in to read and write in solitude.

“Hun he is way more handsome than any book ive seen you bring in here,” she says while raising her eyebrows at Bradley.

“Wow!” Bradley exclaims and pulls down your menu with a giant smile spread across his face, “this IS the best diner in town.”

“Okay okay ha ha,” you say bashfully.

“You know i cant help but tease,” Susan places a hand on your shoulder. “You kids want some coffee? We also still have apple pie left over from today.”

“Yes, and yes,” you nod your head.

Susan looks to Bradley. “What she said,” he responds, tilting his head towards you. Susan winks at Bradley and leaves.

“I am just flustered,” he leans over the table as he talks. Prompting a laugh from you. “You think she likes me?”

“I think so,” you press your lips together as you smile. “Ya know… I am just so excited to learn how to fly.” You say looking out the window. It was said a tinge jokingly, but mostly serious.

“Well I’m excited to teach you.” He responds, never taking his eyes off you.

Susan brings a couple coffees and plates of apple pie. “Holler if you kids need anything,” she says. You both thank her as she retreats back to the bar.

”Did your dad teach you?” You ask turning back to look at Bradley.

His gaze goes down to the coffee he was holding, “my dad actually died in a training exercise while in the navy, I was very young. My mom passed a few years back as well.”

If the coffee wasn’t sobering enough then that sure as hell was.

“I am… I am so sorry Bradley, I didnt meant to-” you search for words. Didn’t mean to be such a downer, rip open childhood wounds, sound like an asshole, you think to yourself.

“It’s okay,” he looks up and puts his hand across the table on your own. “You couldn’t have known. My bronco that you love so much was his.”

”That is really special,” you squeeze his hand.

“Can i confess something?” He says taking a sip of his coffee.

“Who would ever say no to that?” You say lifting an eyebrow and eating some of your warm pie.

“When I was sitting at the piano in the bar earlier tonight, I saw you out the window, coming in.” He takes a bite as well. “And,” chewing he continues, “I just thought to myself, I can’t explain it but I have to know who she is. And then I didn't even have to seek you out, Phoenix just brought you straight to me.”

“Wait, that was you playing the piano? You are so good.”

He chuckles, “My dad was pretty good at playing too.”

“Awh”, you're warmed by that sentiment. “Ya know, I don't think anyone has ever looked at me and thought to themselves, I have to know that girl. That lost, mess of a girl.”

“I want to know that girl.” His eye contact was just about to melt you down. Those brown eyes were warm enough to make a home out of. You couldn’t help but smile, it didn't matter how hard you tried not to. It was the most natural thing. Bradley reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, you insisted you pay because it was your idea. But he threw $30 onto the table and said, “you can get me a coffee tomorrow.”

“Deal,” you said happily. He wants to see me tomorrow, your heart swells at the thought. “Wait, it is tomorrow. I’ve kept you out fairly late.”

“Okay, you can get me a coffee today then.” He stands up from the booth, “in a few hours when it’s time for breakfast, and I’ll be tired and grumpy from you keeping me up all night.” He said, poking fun at you. He holds his hand out and you take it, standing to leave. You both wave to Susan on the way out, Bradley belting a loud and boisterous “Bye Susan!”

Leaving the diner to head back the direction of your apartment, there was one bar you'd walk past on the way back. As it came into view you noticed there was a group of very drunk men hanging around outside. Bradley who had originally positioned himself on the sidewalk closest to the street, gently wrapped his hands around your waist and traded places with you. Now you were on the outside closest the street, and himself on the inside of the sidewalk.

Immediately relieved that you didn’t have to be the one passing right next to the group of belligerent drunks, you now had a buffer between you and them. You also had chills at the feeling of his grasp on your waist, and missed it the second his hands slipped off. He did keep an arm around you, pulling you in close to his side. Approaching the group, you noticed a couple of them took a clear once over look at you.

You never made eye contact in a situation like this, you knew better. Bradley however, made strong eye contact. As if warding off demons could happen with a glance. And you were starting to think maybe it could. A peek at Bradleys face and you quickly realized he was someone you most certainly did not want to create an issue with. What a wide range of auras, you thought to yourself.

He gave a curt nod to the couple of men who were still looking your way as we passed by the bar scene. One of them giving a nod back. The other wasn’t so passive. “At’s quite a hunny you have on y’er arm,” he blurted out. You tensed up.

“Not that you would know,” Bradley responded but it was mostly to himself. He leaned his head down towards yours and lowly said, “pay no mind to it.” You two kept walking without missing a beat. “Hey what did you say?” The man snapped back. You hear footsteps start up behind you and turn your head to look. Bradley stops walking and pushes the small of your back as if to say ‘keep going.’ But you only get a couple steps further than him before you turn around yourself.

“I said, not in front of the lady huh?” Bradley’s words came out stern. He was towering over the man. Broad shoulders blocking your view of most anything in front of him. The man’s buddy stepped forward placing a hand on his friends chest and saying something you couldn’t make out. They both turned and retreated into the bar. Bradley returned to you wrapping you up in his arm and started to walk with you again… this time, on the side closest to the street. “I’ve never seen anyone so menacing in a Hawaiian shirt before,” you said amusingly as you looked up to him. He looked behind you both once more as insurance. As he turned his head forward again, he placed a kiss on top of your head along the way. “Okay maybe I take it back,” you gave a small laugh.

The walk back to your apartment felt like driving in his Bronco. Silent, comfortable, secure. You almost wanted to question what the hell was happening, but didnt want your over analytical brain to ruin whatever was happening. You approached the Bronco sitting in front of your apartment complex, both of your foot steps getting slower and slower until you reached the driver side.

“I’d invite you in but, I, I’ll have to - i mean,” you were stumbling. Over words, over emotions, over reason, over his big brown eyes.

“You mean - you’re a little more modest than that.” He smirked at you. Both of you were leaning a shoulder against the Bronco while talking to each other. “I wouldn’t expect anything less,” he says locking eyes with you.

“It’s going to be hard to sleep tonight,” you say looking down at your feet. “Dreams can keep you awake sometimes too ya know.”

“What kind of dreams do you think might keep you up tonight?” He says softly awaiting an answer. When you looked back up at him his face felt so close to yours. You could feel your cheeks getting hot. Your stomach dropping. Almost immediately forgetting what he asked.

You opened your mouth to speak but no words came out. He closed the small distance between you and your lips clashed. You reached your arms up to wrap around his neck without hesitation. His hands reuniting with a firm grip on your waist, reminding you of what you were missing just moments earlier. Pressing your body to his and savoring his soft lips dancing with yours.

He had your back pressed against the bronco in an instance. Clearly feeding into each other’s energy. Never breaking contact with you, he reaches down and hoists you up. You wrap your legs around him and he leans further into you, tasting sweet apple pie. It was as if a forest fire had been ignited. Everything around you felt like it could burn down in an instance.

A firm grasp around your thighs, you arched up pressing into his chest. His lips leaving your mouth and trailing down your jaw as you lift your head. Breathing heavily your arms go down his shoulders, his chest. Feeling every inch of muscle along the way. Kisses keep dropping down your neck. His facial hair teasing you, feeling electrifying.

You grab his jaw and bring his head back up to yours. He devours your tongue, as you line his bottom lip. You go on like this for quite a while. As if you might happily waste what little you have left of the night right here. The back and forth surely adding up in time, but to you time was nonexistent. You forgot how much fun it could be just kissing, pulling in for more but holding off on anything that might be too consequential.

The pace starts to slow, the darkness starting a subtle shift in the night sky. Still a ways from daybreak, but a progression beginning to happen. You push your body more upright, and pause. Bradleys breath still close to your face, “so… breakfast later?” He says smugly pressed in the nook of your neck.

“Mhm,” you nod your head. After your feet come back down to reality, he slides his hands up your back and down your arms. Standing straight and taking your hands.

“May I walk you to your door?” He pears down at your hands in his.

“Only because you asked so nicely,” you gave a small smile. “I’m number 10, upstairs.” He slowly starts to walk in front of you. Grasping your hand and leading you up the stairs of the apartment complex as if he's been here a hundred times before. Arriving to your door he steps to the side and turns to face you.

“I’ll get your number from pheonix, I’ll call after we get some sleep.” He said it as a statement, but that small voice of doubt in the back of your head questioned the validity of it. He leaned down and kissed your forehead.

“Well then. Ill see ya later, flyboy.”