#i really did try to keep the frustration in this to a minimum and just discuss what the handprint is

[quietwingsinthesky]

was writing this down for an ask but realized i was quickly getting off topic for that ask lmao. let’s talk about Dean’s handprint, the wild misinterpretations of it, and how those have affected how people read Anna covering it during her sex scene with Dean.

We have to establish the obvious first: the number one way the handprint is misinterpreted is to establish a romantic connection between Dean and Castiel from their very first meeting. Because of how popular the ship is, we’re now left with the unfortunate aftermath of people knowing the ship first and the show second, and therefore being more inclined to interpret the show through the lens of the ship. Needless to say, while looking at season 4 through that lens for hints of destiel is fun, it doesn’t lead to a thematically cohesive reading. The handprint is the best way we can demonstrate this. If we take the handprint to indicate that Castiel has been romantically interested in Dean since minute one, or even that he sees Dean as a person rather than an instrument of Heaven’s will at first (put a pin in that), then the rest of his character arc for the season is incoherent and meaningless. To assert that this is what the handprint is about takes the conclusion Castiel needs the entirety of season 4 to reach and transplants it onto him at the very beginning in order to make it easier to find evidence for the ship.

There’s a lot of media out there where interpreting it through the lens of a ship, even one unintended by the author, can enhance the original text. (Lest we all forget our Winter Soldier roots.) Supernatural does not have that relationship to interpreting it to be about destiel. A season 4 where the handprint means Castiel is in love with Dean is a weaker story and does a huge disservice to Castiel’s actual character arc.

So, now that we’ve established what the handprint isn’t, can we talk about what it is? Yes. It’s pretty simple, actually.

Think of it this way: To Heaven, Dean is livestock, and the handprint is the brand telling everyone (but especially Dean) what ranch he belongs to.

Let’s start with the obvious: it isn’t a metaphorical brand at all. It’s literal. It’s burned into his skin permanently (or at least, when the makeup department wants to put it there.) I’d argue that from the nature of it being notable as the only scar Dean has from being raised from Hell and later showing up during his sex scene with Anna that even if we don’t see the handprint, we’re meant to interpret it as continuing to be there for… well. The rest of his life, most likely. And that’s horrifying. The handprint is telling us two things when it shows up: one, letting us know that Dean’s resurrection was intentional and through a manner we as the audience don’t have the information to guess at yet. Anyone who watched the show airing, or watches it now without knowing about angels would have assumed demonic deal intervention as being the cause of Dean’s new lease on life, and this. handily. discards that theory. But secondly, it tells us that this resurrection was violating. All resurrections on Supernatural are.

We assume from Castiel’s line, you know the one, we all know the one, Mr. Gripped-You-Tight, that he’s the one who put it there. However, to then make a further leap that it was Castiel’s personal decision to do so is, I think, a misunderstanding of his role. Take that pin out now. Dean is not a person to Castiel at this point. They’re not friends. Dean is a tool for Heaven to use, a tool that should be honored and grateful to be picked up at all. Make no mistake: Castiel branded him for Heaven, not for himself. Castiel’s a ranchhand. They aren’t in the business of letting the cows run free if they look a little sad to be slaughtered later.

Castiel needs to start here for his arc to be as impactful as it is. He can’t begin rebellious. He has to learn how to doubt. He has to develop a personal friendship with Dean that threatens his allegiance to Heaven. He has to see Anna having chosen to fall rather than obey Heaven and to be betrayed by Uriel being so desperate that he’s turned to killing their brothers and sisters trying to find a way out from under Heaven’s control.

There’s another line I think gets misinterpreted a lot in this initial meeting. “You don’t think you deserve to be saved?” On its face, easy bait for someone looking for shipping fodder, but that misses the actual point of the line. It’s a powerplay. We don’t learn until later why Dean wouldn’t think he deserves to be saved (aside from his general Winchester levels of self-esteem, but knowing that trait about him actually serves as a pretty good red herring to mask real reason Dean is thinking about himself as irredeemable now until the reveal. It’s not that Dean had a low opinion about himself in general, but that he tortured people in Hell and can never forgive himself for that.) , but Castiel does know. All of Heaven knows what Dean’s sin in Hell was. Without saying it, Castiel can remind Dean of it here. This line isn’t about Dean being so inherently good that Castiel had to rescue him. It’s about making sure Dean knows that the only way he can be ‘redeemed’ is through obedience to the heavenly powers who own his ass now. This is how he deserves to be saved. Because God commanded it. Because they have work for him.

And if he doesn’t bow? Then, as Castiel puts it in the very next episode, “I dragged you out of Hell. I can throw you back in.” This threat hanging over Dean’s head won’t go away for the rest of the season, not from Heaven. The only shift is that Castiel’s continued doubt and disobedience levels the playing field between them. They’ll both be punished, rather than Castiel taking on the role of disciplinarian. (It’s a really clever way of dealing with that power gap between them, actually. There’s always a bigger fish.)

The handprint and Castiel’s early conversations with Dean serve as a reminder of the precarious position he’s in. We shouldn’t take him ‘being saved’ at face value, no more than we should take Heaven being good just because they’re the angels in this equation as a given. Dean hasn’t been saved. He’s being used, just as much (if not arguably more) than Ruby is using Sam. (Because at least Ruby truly believes this is for Sam’s benefit, in the end.) And the worst part is how aware of it Dean is. How could he not be? His entire stint in Hell is defined by how Alistair used him. He’s just been handed off to a different owner, one that will still happily push him into the thing they ‘saved’ him from the minute it proves useful. Dean needing to torture Alistair reminds us just how little his circumstances have actually changed. He’s not allowed to say no to this.

So. The handprint is Heaven’s mark of ownership. It’s Dean’s status as their tool, their victim, burned into his flesh and inescapable. What does it mean when Anna places her hand over it?

I’ll lay my cards on the table. I’ve been thinking about this for so long because the aforementioned tendency to assume that the handprint is evidence for destiel means that the scene between Anna & Dean also gets lumped into being interpreted as more evidence for destiel. For over a decade, I have endured people joking about Anna being jealous of Cas for getting to leave a mark on their boytoy. And that’s one of the nicer things the Supernatural fandom will say about a woman who they perceive as a threat to their ship.

So, not to be rude or anything, but fuck Castiel. This ain’t about him.

This scene—It’s a lovely scene, a fantastic continuation of Dean and Anna’s previous conversation into the language of a sex scene—is about two people who have both been used and threatened by Heaven connecting over that shared trauma. Before, Anna gives space for Dean to open up about Hell, but he can’t, not yet, and though she knows what he’s gone through, she hasn’t been there herself. But when it comes to what Heaven has made of them, she does understand. It’s an incredibly vulnerable moment.

You make the handprint about Dean and Cas, and you erase what that scene is about entirely: the way Heaven’s abuse has tangled itself deep into Dean and Anna’s lives, into their bodies, and how they can resist it, if only for a few moments together.

The handprint was never about Castiel at all. It was about Heaven and its dehumanization of Dean.

[sillyuin]

hi <3! was wondering if i can get svt reaction to yn being completely oblivious to them flirting with her? subtle things like while she’s just ranting about her day they’d move closer to her and she’d absentmindedly put her hand on their chest to push them away still running her mouth, just completely unaware of what’s happening. and even the most obvious things like compliments or physical touch, yn is blind to it and it’s so frustrating to them

so yeah, hope you see this! ❤️

Hi! I'm sorry for being so late 😭 i've been very busy with job and housework, but it's finally here.

Svt reacts: Flirting vs clueless s/o. Who will win?

Yuin's note: barely proofread. I'ts 1 am and I'm tired.

Seungcheol. Staring at your face.

I mean, he likes to just stare at you as if he's watching the prettiest person in the world, but when Seungcheol wants to be especially flirty, he stares at you fondly and smiling with the whole intention to make your heart skip a beat, he even glances at your lips, as if he were trying to say something. Most of the time that's enough to make you really, really shy but when is not... Geez, he has to breathe in and ends up pouting a little (Probably one or two pecks will make him feel better).

Jeonghan. Teasing.

Is like his default love language, making harmless jokes to see you flustered all over him is just so fun to watch. But, is he really just trying to be a teaser, or is there something else behind? "I took the chair, but you can sit on my lap" he said one day, sitting at your desktop, with the most mischievous smile possible. But you didn't fall for his charm and as you kept your annoyed face, he stood up and sighed "Okay, all yours". And you better be ready because he's not forgetting so easy, and will keep teasing you just a little (yeah, a little) more than usual.

Joshua. Back hugging.

When Joshua wants your attention only and only for him, he goes where you are to hug you from the back, resting his chin on your shoulders and crossing his arms around your waist. Oh, he loves it so much is so tender, but he gets lowkey hurt when you don't react in any way because, how come you don't realize his intentions? Is really doing the dishes way more important than his warm hugs? Now, this is personal and Joshua won’t let you go, take it as a punishment for being so clueless (reward or punishment?).

Jun. Tickles.

For him, tickles is the perfect excuse to be closer to you. It's so obvious that hurts lol. Most of the time you melt in his touch, and you both end up laughing and sharing some kisses, but sometimes you're minding your business, too busy to realize that Jun wants to get your attention. Better get ready because you'll have a pouty little cat going around the apartment, and will NOT forget your offense unless you give him extra cuddles before bed.

Hoshi. Random "facts".

At the least appropriate time, he would come to find you. "Did you know that there is a minimum number of kisses that a person should receive per day to be healthy?" he says with a very serious expression on his face. And there you are, standing in the middle of the living room while you're brushing your teeth; your soulless expression says all. Hoshi turns around and pretends nothing happened, but in his mind, he's sitting in the corner staring at the walls.

Wonwoo. Making compliments out of nowhere.

He likes to pour you with sweet words, like how much he appreciates your homemade food, or that you did it great at work. From time to time, he thinks is fun to be a little sassy and his praises are very, very intentional. “New gloss?” he says, grinning at you “It looks good” and for some frigging reason you just start talking about how you got it? Babe, Wonu doesn’t care that much that you bought it because your favorite gloss wasn’t on stock, but now he feels a little shy to speak and just lets you tell the whole story.

Woozi. Playing with your hair.

When it comes to be openly flirty, Woozi tends to be a little coy. You rarely notice it since it's very common for him to be around you, caressing your hair and playing with the strands in complete silence. So when you get distracted he places a strand behind your ear, exposing your neck. But when he's so close to place a kiss, you jump like a scared kitten. "No! It tickles!" Woozi looks down, defeated, as you move away. "Sorry, be right back" and he locks himself in his room for the next hour.

Minghao. Holding your hand.

He thinks your hands are more than just pretty. Hao likes to take one of them when you're sitting by his side, scrolling on your phone or watching TV. He's so subtle that most of the times you don't feel how he traces your hand with his fingers and when you realize, it’s because your hands are intertwined and he’s holding his laughter. “How low you’ve been like this?” but Minghao just giggles. You end up doing the same and then resume your activity, letting him laughing low in embarrassment and biting his lips as a sign of frustration.

Mingyu. Resting on your lap.

He's very straightforward when it comes to flirting with you. Mingyu likes to wait patiently for you to sit on the couch or the bed and then he goes, at first making some (pretty obvious) questions "What are you doing?" "Is that a new book?" and as you're talking, his hands rest on your thigh, gently stroking your skin with his thumb, but you're so immerse in the topic and he goes completely unnoticed... And before you even notice, there's a flustered Mingyu resting his head on your lap, tracing small circles on your thigh as if he had been punished.

Dokyeom. Taking photos.

He already has a folder with your name and an unhealthy number of photos; Seokmin just never gets tired, you're so used to it that most of the time don't realize that he's actually trying to hit on you. "Just let me take a picture, you look so beautiful today!" And after giving him an awkward smile, you're getting back to your stuff.  Seokmin is a bit disappointed but with a bunch of new photos of his precious person, so is not that bad (at least is what he says to himself trying to not lose his mind).

Seungkwan. Scolding.

I know, it may sound like a bit harsh but when he's scolding you, Seungkwan tries to make it as tender as possible, it doesn't feel like scolding and actually, he uses this as a cheap excuse to be extra lovely. "Don't sleep too late, you're getting dark circles" he says in a soft voice while caressing your checks "you're too pretty for that, don't you think?". He waits for you to take the bait and when you laugh on him, saying that he's being a little dramatic, Seungkwan doesn't hide his disappointment. "Okay, keep watching your series" he says getting up from the couch "but don't you dare to complain later!"

Vernon. Placing his arm on your shoulders.

A classic that never dies and his favorite, Vernon likes to do it all the time: when watching movies, chatting, watching videos together; is a like a very subtle invitation to get closer to him, and somehow, most of the time you’re just minding your business and leave him waiting for you to notice. And yeah, he’s very patient, but everything has a limit. "Come here, babe" then he places his hand on your shoulder and brings you closer to his chest. And don't you dare to move, because there's no way he let you go now.

Dino. Calling your name.

Usually, he calls you by pet names or your name in diminutive, reserving the use of your name for special occasions. However, it doesn't always end the way he expected. “Did I do something wrong?” you ask him just after he called you by your name, and when Chan sees your big doe eyes, his smile fades. “Is just that… I feel like you’re mad at me”. At this point his intentions doesn’t matter anymore, he just hugs you and tries not cry in his disappointment.

[catboyieejeno]

nct dream reaction ¡! ❞

"i can't focus with your hand down my—oh, fuck."

content: smut, cursing, mature, pet names (baby, babe, doll, etc.)

18+ ! minors do not interact

masterlist

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ mark lee

mark had spent the last few hours hunched over the soundboard, paper and pen clutched in hand as he racked his brain for something, anything that would make the verse he was writing not entirely dull. but it was so hard to think, to conjure a single logical or productive thought, when you were sat right beside him, doing what you were.

your fingertips are scratching at his scalp, right above the nape of his neck. meanwhile, your other hand busies itself on his thigh, nails tracing random shapes over the material his sweats. frustrated, tired, and in a haze of unorganized thoughts and ideas, mark rolls his head back into the palm of your hand with a low hiss.

“something about this verse doesn't sound right,"

"i think you've just been looking at it too long," you press your lips softly into his cheek and he sighs at the feeling.

"maybe," hums mark, "i just want to finish already,"

"what if,” you whisper, “you take a break for a few minutes, that way you can look at it with new eyes, find out what’s wrong with it.”

the feeling of your breath on the shell of his ear makes his hair stand on end. the bare minimum— that’s all you have to do and you have mark’s head spinning, analyzing whether or not your alleged ‘break’ really implied something else. immediately, he feels the blood rush to his-

what is he doing? he needs to keep working on the song.

he shakes his head. mark readjusts his pants, but the gesture doesn't go unnoticed by you. you're quick to catch the way he fixes himself and wipes the sweat off his palms. “babe,” he tries.

“yes?” your voice is sweet and airy, resembling a pant, with fingers lightly trailing his waistline.

“baby.” there’s an underlying warning to his tone this time; nevertheless, you can sense the bit of desperation he fails to hide.

with your thumb, you lift the waistband and slip your hand inside in one smooth motion. at the same time, your lips attach to his neck.

"i need to finish the song," his head tilts to make space for you, contradicting his words, and you smirk against his skin as you feel him gulp.

"you need a break, baby,"

"mmph," why did you have him so hooked, "no, i need to work-"

"then work," you place your hand on him over his underwear, "no one's stopping you,"

you're giving his bulge a squeeze, teeth grazing his neck, when mark mentally thanks the heavens that he's sitting. otherwise, he's sure his knees would've given out.

"yeah, but," he gasps, "i can't focus with your hand down my—oh, fuck."

ੈ♡˳

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ huang renjun

"jun,"

renjun hums in response, not looking up from the book on his chest. he's lying down, eyes scanning the text on the pages while his other hand rests on his stomach, fingers bouncing mindlessly.

with a pout settled on your bottom lip, you sit beside him on your knees, practically begging for any bit of his attention.

all of your attempts to divert his focus away from that damned book have been overlooked. you tried changing your shirt, toying with your bra, and nothing. he didn't even bother to try and sneak a glance when you pulled up your skirt, flashing your pink panties at him.

it was all getting rather annoying.

daringly, your place your hand over his, maneuvering it slowly down until you stop right over his crotch.

"tsk tsk," he moves his hand back up, "what are you doing?"

"junnie," you mewl, fingers tracing the outline of him.

he remains unmoving until you decide you've had enough. when your hand goes into his pants, his lips part slightly, sharply drawing in a breath, and his eyes finally break away from the page to look at you. they're wide open in shock.

"i've been trying to get your attention for the last 20 minutes,"

"well, you should've just asked." he laughs, sounding a little cocky. your eyes narrow at him when he speaks again, "i'll make it up to you, baby," when he goes to close the book, you stop the motion of your wrist, a devilish idea coming to mind.

"no,"

"what?"

"i want you to keep reading," you say matter-of-factly. he's taken aback when your strokes get bolder and you feel him getting harder in your hand, "since you didn't want to pay any attention to me, you can keep reading."

"but i wanna make you feel good-"

"keep reading or i'll stop."

renjun picks up his book hurriedly and flips it open to where he left off. this time, when you pull your shirt off, his eyes are roaming your skin rather than the words of his novel, shallow breaths leaving his parted lips.

he's fully hard now, a flustered mess, uttering whispered pleas of your name.

"baby, that feels so-" he whines quietly.

"focus on your book."

"i can't focus with your hand down my—oh, fuck." his hips buck up into your hand, book falling to the side as he comes into your fist.

ੈ♡˳

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ lee jeno

about five minutes ago, you were cursing the day you ever let your boyfriend talk you into working out with him.

jeno is normally sweet, shy, affectionate, considerate, but for some reason, when he steps through the doors of the gym, he discovers each and every new way to push all of your buttons.

he’d try to… encourage you throughout your routine, which resulted in you guys bickering the whole way home because he “just couldn’t let you do it at your own pace.” that, or he’d all-together forget about you until he was done with his own work out, headphones plugged in and blasting for 2, sometimes even 3 hours.

tonight, he had dragged you to a small gym that he claimed had less people, for your comfort and his privacy as an idol, and while that was true, you couldn’t help but think to yourself, of course there’s going to be less people— no one is at the gym at two in the fucking morning.

now, however, you’re leaning against the wall, fully over even attempting to finish your work out, watching as jeno does his usual bicep curls in nothing but his tiny black shorts and a matching tank that is skin-tight.

his jaw is locked and tense, face twisting as he strains while pulling up the weights during the rep. sweat makes the ends of his hair stick to his forehead, and when he’s done, he huffs, chest heaving. even the way he grabs his water to gulp it down is messing with your head.

yeah… maybe you didn’t hate the gym that much.

you don’t know what’s different about today, but you’ve been rubbing your thighs together for the last 30 minutes, hoping he’d announce soon that he’s close to done. when that moment never comes, you take matters into your own hands.

“hi, jen,” you stride over to him, a sly smile playing at your lips.

“hey, pretty baby. i’m almost finished, i just have to do-“

blatantly disregarding what he was talking about, you lean in until your lips are kissing the corner of his, “i can’t watch you work out anymore,” you whine, “it’s driving me crazy,”

confused and oblivious as ever, jeno pulls his eyebrows together, “well, i’m sorry, i thought you liked coming here with me-“

“not that kind of crazy, love,” your hand grabs his, guiding it between your legs, “the kind where i want you to bend me over any piece of equipment in here.”

“w-wha-well, i uhm-“

he swallows thickly when you bring your other hand into his shorts, grabbing his dick and pumping it a few times. his hand stays between your legs, though he doesn’t move.

“baby, i promise,” he pants, “this is my last set and then i’m taking you home and we can-“

“why can’t we do it here?”

“are you insane? what if somebody comes in? i have-shit- i have one more set and- ohh, aah-“

“jeno?”

"i can't focus with your hand down my—oh, fuck."

jeno’s arm flies back to lean his weight against whatever machine is behind him, trying to stay upright. his fingers finally start moving, rubbing some much needed friction to the spot between your legs. his brain has become mush in less than 2 minutes, lost in the pleasure that you’re giving him. his work out is long forgotten as he groans out your name.

ੈ♡˳

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ lee donghyuck

"you can't sleep with your makeup on, doll," hyuck grumbles, "stop fighting me on this,"

he straddles your lap to keep you from wiggling around, hovering over you with a make-up removing wipe wrapped between his long fingers.

his cheeks are a delicious shade of red, shiny from the sheer layer of sweat that covers his pretty features. he looks boyish and unruly, hair falling messily over his glossed-over eyes as they stare into your own.

your face is surely mirroring his, flushed from all of the drinks in your system. what started as a date night with your boyfriend ended with you having close to a bottle and half of wine each, not that you’re complaining. his body is warm above yours, clouding your judgement more than the alcohol ever could. greedily, your hands wander up his thighs.

hyuck is rambling and slurring distractedly, using the scented wipe to gently swipe away the remnants of product from under your eyes, "it's not good for your skin if you leave your makeup on, you know that-" you can't even focus on what he's lecturing you on because his lips are stained red from the wine, and he seems to have been licking them, given how wet they are.

"hyuck, baby."

"-yes?"

you pucker up your lips, "give me a kiss."

he complies with a cheeky smile, mouth molding obediently against yours. he lets out a throaty moan at your affection.

your fingers fly to the button on his jeans, undoing them. hyuck quickly pulls back, “baby, let me take off your makeup first,”

“but i wanna feel you,” you mumble innocently, hands reaching for the hem of his underwear.

“oh, believe me,” as maliciously as ever, he tongues his cheek, eyebrows wiggling, “you will.”

working as fast and gently as possible, he continues to wipe your face, jaw tightening as you grope him, “hmm, y/n.”

“what’s wrong, baby?”

"i can't focus with your hand down my—oh, fuck." his head falls into the crook of your shoulder and he shudders at the feeling of your cool hands wrapping around his base. under your palm, you feel him twitch, but hyuck is determined to remain unfazed and not engage in your little game until he’s done.

he composes himself and sighs. another wipe is taken from the pack, softly cleaning your forehead and cheeks.

“shit–alright,” he seethes as you squeeze his tip. hyuck tosses the wipe aside, grunting. your boyfriend roughly grabs your face with one hand, making you stop your teasing, “all done.”

instantly, he leans in, letting his lips meet yours again. this kiss is more lustful than the last; it’s sloppy and needy, and when he pulls away for air, he stays so close that he practically breathes his next words into your mouth, “i should’ve left your makeup on so you could watch me ruin it.”

ੈ♡˳

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ na jaemin

it's unfortunate that you're a light sleeper, seeing as it makes it quite difficult for your boyfriend to do something nice for you.

this morning, jaemin had woken up an hour before you usually do with the intention to surprise you by making breakfast and delivering it to you in bed.

he had everything worked out: he set his alarm on his phone and kept it tucked under his pillow so he could rush to silence it once he woke up, hoping that you'd continue to sleep undisturbed. from there, he rolled out of bed as quietly as possible, tip-toeing out of your bedroom and into the kitchen to make you the best breakfast-in-bed ever.

everything was going according to plan, until now. he had just scooped the first bit of pancake batter into the pan when the padding of your feet alerts him of your presence. your arms wrap around his waist, nose nuzzling into his back.

like a child who didn’t get his way, jaemin whines out and stomps his feet a bit, "babe, you weren't supposed to be up yet.”

"i felt you get up, jaem," you laugh, "let me help you-"

"nope! you're not allowed to do anything. this was supposed to be a surprise,"

"alright, fine."

when you try to pull away to get ahead on the dishes, jaemin's hand drags you back in, right to where you were on his waist.

well, if he won't let you let you help in the kitchen, maybe you can help a different way.

mischievously, your teeth graze his back and shoulders, hands sliding under his shirt to feel the muscles on his stomach, which immediately tense at the contact of your cold fingers. when your actions elicit a reaction from him, a small knowing scoff that told you that he knew exactly what you were up to, you continue your efforts, trailing down to loosen the drawstrings of his joggers.

"oh, yeah," he hums when you touch him. no more than a second later, the free hand that isn’t busy flipping pancakes comes down to wrap over yours, guiding it up and down on his length, “you’re so naughty.”

"i just wanna repay you for getting up early to make me breakfast,"

"if you keep going," he whimpers, "i might end up wanting something else for breakfast," jaemin's chest is heaving at this point.

"the food's gonna burn," you half-heartedly warn, mercilessly continuing your pace.

"well, it just might 'cause i can't focus with your hand down my—oh, fuck."

there's a clattering noise when the pan is pushed back and off the heat, the spatula dropping onto the counter as jaemin pulls your hand and his from his pants.

he quickly flips off the stove and turns to you, hands wrapping around your thighs to pick you up, situating you on the empty kitchen island.

“breakfast can wait.” he mumbles, then captures your mouth in a kiss.

ੈ♡˳

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ zhong chenle

“chenle.”

“the game’s almost over,”

“chenle!”

“there’s 10 minutes left!”

“you’re watching highlights! you can literally watch those whenever!”

“now is also whenever!” he cleverly retorts.

okay, think. that’s the third video he’s watched in a row, the third time he’s fed you the same explanation and promised that this highlight video would be the last.

so, think: how can you get him off his stupid phone?

“you wanna watch your highlights? okay,” you shrug, sitting beside him on the couch.

“okay?” he asks, as if your previous statement is entirely foreign to him, and truthfully, it is. you had never given up so easily before. in fact, chenle had grown to love the banter. half of the time, the only reason he really insists on watching his highlight clips for so long is because he loves to watch you yearn for his attention.

“yep.”

“i’ll be done after this one,” he reminds you, watching closely for your reaction.

you nod nonchalantly, “right.” and give him a forced smile.

you give him a few seconds to get back into the video before you bring your hand over to his thigh. as expected, he doesn’t say anything, continuing his act in hopes that you’ll go back to urging him to shut the video off.

but this time, unlike the others, you remain just as stoic, sneakily inching closer and closer. it’s only a matter of time before he catches on, so you reach over in one motion and undo the button of his pants, putting your hand inside.

oh. so that’s your play?

you catch onto the way his eyes widen for a fleeting moment, but he’s quick to cover it up.

gently, you rub him, leaning in to leave kisses on his cheek, the kind that are so light and soft that they invite goosebumps to spread through his neck and arms.

he resists all urges to shudder or succumb to your touch; instead, he opts for taking his bottom lip between his teeth, a last measure to remain sane as you pleasure him. he can’t care less about the highlights anymore, but he’s stubborn and refuses to lose, so his eyes stay locked on the screen although his thoughts are entirely elsewhere.

you’re supposed to beg for him, not the other way around.

but that’s easier said than done, especially when you’re palming him, pre-cum leaking from his tip as his mind wanders off the game, clinging to everything that is you.

chenle squeezes his eyes shut for a second.

“what’s the matter?”

“nothing.” he says through gritted teeth.

you keep toying with him, bringing your other hand to the button of your own shorts. at this, chenle’s eyes snap over and he mentally curses, blowing air through his nostrils harshly.

his fingers are turning white from the way he’s gripping his phone with so much force. every stroke of your hand is wearing him down, bringing him closer to his climax, but he doesn’t want to finish yet, not before he’s been inside of you.

“chenle, baby, you’re not even watching-“

“yeah, i know, that’s because i can't focus with your hand down my—oh, fuck."

ੈ♡˳

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ park jisung

“and then, if you press these buttons, your attack upgrades and deals more damage…”

if you’re being honest, everything jisung has said about his new switch game, which he’s explaining to you with so much interest and passion, is going in one ear and out the other.

it’s not that you don’t care, you do! you’re more than happy to sit and listen to him go on about something he’s excited about, but you simply don’t know what’s gotten into you today.

all you can seem to focus on is him.

his lips are plump, looking softer and more kissable than ever, and you think you may pass out when his tongue darts out to wet them. now, they’re glossed over, just like his pretty brown eyes that reflect the video game screen from the console resting on his chest.

your leg lies across his body, unable to keep still with the ache starting to flourish at your core. you’re practically grinding on his thigh and he’s oblivious as ever.

the fingers that hug his waist have now developed a mind of their own: they dance over his stomach and travel south until they make their way under jisung’s waistband.

“what-“ he clears his throat to cover the way his voice cracks, “what are you doing?”

“what are you talking about?”

all of his muscles tense up, “with your, uhm, hand?”

“oh,” you feign surprise, batting your eyes with innocence as if there could be no another reason your hand was holding his crotch, “it’s warm, my fingers were getting cold,”

he nods rather awkwardly, mumbling something that implies he understands and tries to continue with his explanation.

key word: tries.

his speech is a mess and a nervous sweat has broken out on his forehead. he’s even begun to explain things about the game wrong, spewing out nervous laughs in between weak apologies.

as hard as he’s trying to keep his act together, there’s one thing that blatantly gives him away. under your hand, you can feel him getting hard, and he knew it, too.

the entire time he’s talking, he’s growing harder and harder in your palm and you just cant resist moving a bit.

“aah, that feels-“

“so, what does that character do, again?”

jisung blinks at you with wide eyes, an look of disbelief on his face. after a pause, he answers you quietly.

“they—mmh, they shoot these uhm-“

you nod teasingly, “uh-huh?”

“these fireballs that-“ defeated, he groans out, “baby…”

“woah, fireballs?!”

“baby, i’ll tell you about the game later. right now, i-“ he sets the switch aside and you pout in false disappointment.

“what? why?”

"because—i can't focus with your hand down my—oh, fuck."

ੈ♡˳

[jwanniie]

Noncon, G!p Purinz headcanons!

WARNINGS: THIS IS NON CONSENSUAL WORK SO IF YOU DECIDE TO READ THIS, IT IS YOUR RESPONSIBILITY. cum eating, unprotected sex, yandere theme, sexual harassment, threesome, blowjob, p in v.

-Goddamn, how fine you looked! You were their new classmate very antisocial, didn’t really interact with anyone, intelligent and gorgeous, insanely gorgeous. They used to skip most of their classes but once they saw you entering the class, not a single lesson did they skip.

-The class went by fast, just their eyes never leaving your form, either be it your gorgeous face or your petite but curvy form. Those curves that they’d die just to place their hands on.

-They tried to get to know you, but you only kept things as “classmates” never gave them any chance or attention and that made them frustrated and upset. They even tried to walk you home once but you were quick to turn them down.

-They were now more than upset and frustrated, their “love” turned into psychotic obsession. They were addicted to you, you were their honey coated drug, your smell, your smile, your delicate curves were driving them insane. They would choose you over oxygen any time, simply you were just intoxicating.

-It was the end of the school year and the class had one last school project, that they had to do in groups. So when the teacher announced who are the participants in each group, and when they heard your name with theirs. They flashed the widest grin, that everybody could swear their smile was so wide that they could be the next Joker. After seeing their reaction you knew you were trapped in lions cave.

-You tried to keep the interaction with them to the minimum, and do your part in the project. But they always found a way to talk to you or linger those small but meaningful touches. Hand on your shoulder when talking or hand brushing your thighs. You laughed awkwardly, you always wanted to work on the project in public places at first.

-But once they invited you to Chaewons house,you denied but after knowing Chaewon “injured” her ankle you couldn’t find an excuse to do it in another place but her house, because if you did deny you’d seem like such a horrible person with no empathy. So you agreed on continuing the project at her house.

-At first it was pretty normal and for a second you felt safe, but the way Chaewon and Yunjins hand were on your inner thighs longer and the little circles they were drawing at your thigh, couldn’t go unnoticed. You just gulped nervously, trying to not think about it.

-How can you be so oblivious?!? They thought if you aren’t going to give in to their touch, it doesn’t matter they are going to have you either by your own will or perhaps even Force. They couldn’t care less, knowing it’s wrong.

-Chaewon was now really tired, she and Yunjin have been waiting for months. She yanked your hair back harshly, earning a gasp and a scream from you at the same time. “Listen, we have been waiting for you for months now, so be a good little slut, and take us!” She says with the same joker grin. You push her away, but Yunjin quickly grabs your hand and places then behind your back.

-The both of them were dancers and you are one and they are two. They were quick to dominate you, your eyes became glassy and soon waterfall flooded down, wetting your cheeks and face. They were quick to rip your clothes, leaving you under their eyes of lust and desire.

-They forced you onto all fours, Yunjin from the back and Chaewon in front of your face. Without warning Yunjin slammed herself inside you with force, earning a broke sob from you, the pain unbearable. “I-it hurts pl-please p-pull out” you cried out, without even letting you adjust to her size. She started ramming her dick into your tight and warm cunt. “P-please st-stop” you begged her to stop, she let out a loud huff. “Chaewon please shut her up” Chaewon forcefully opened your mouth “let’s put your mouth into a good use, slut” she placed her whole length into your wet mouth,groaning at the sensation.

-The pleasure replaced pain, and unconsciously you started replying to Yunjins thrusts but you were muffled by Chaewons thick veiny cock. “Slut seems like she enjoys this” Chaewon chuckled darkly, Yunjin let out the same dark chuckle. Your nails digged deep into Chaewons hips, while Yunjins animalistic thrusts never slowing down, getting messier indicating she was close, hissing and panting,spanking your ass harshly leaving red area.

-At the same time while you were bobbing your mouth on Chaewons length she started thrusting back onto your mouth. Also close, you couldn’t care anymore, the only thing on your mind is orgasming. Your hips started thrusting back into Yunjins cock, while Chaewon was still thrusting into your mouth, few more thrusts and Chaewons creamy thick seed filled your mouth while Yunjins warm sticky release filled your hole to the brim. When your liquid flood down your thighs mixed with Yunjins seed, disgust ran through you. You swallowed Chaewons fluid while she gave you a dirty smirk, you felt disgusted with yourself. how could you give yourself this easily?!? Were you this cheap?!? Those questions ran through your mind, and soon tears filled your eyes again. Chaewon and Yunjin faked a pout while pulling out “Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy this whore!” Yunjin uttered “you probably enjoyed this even more than us!” Chaewon continued.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Crash and Burn 2

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Tony Stark

Summary: a powerful man comes crashing into your life. Literally.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“Darlene, you never did have sense!” Your grandmother yawls.  

Your eyes roll to the ceiling and settle on the wall. Your mother snarls back, “it wasn’t my fault!” 

“It never is your fault, is it? But it’s always my mess to clean up.” The old woman barks. 

You sigh and turn off the lamp. Despite the devastation of your home, the rest of your life remains in place. You have a shift at the deli and you can’t afford to miss a single minute now. You know your grandma won’t put up with you for long. You don’t think you can stand her either. 

The venomous back and forth continues as you pull a pillow over your head. It’s impossible to drown out. When it stops, your mom crashes through the door and stomps around. Your adrenaline spikes again. You haven’t really calmed down since the trailer folded into dust. 

She flops onto the bed and scrolls through her phone. The brightness seeps in below the edge of the pillow. The double futon isn’t very spacious. 

The speaker crackles and she cackles at some shitty video. The noise has you rolling to face the wall. She’s so oblivious. Or maybe she doesn’t give the shit. It’s not so different than the trailer. She never did try to keep it down. 

You get no peace even as she falls asleep. She snores like a broken lawn mower. You toss and turn as your grandmother’s cigarette smoke tickles your throat. 

Your life wasn’t grand before. The double-wide was no palace but it was better than this. You huff and give in to insomnia. You stare at the ceiling as frustration boils to rage. 

You can still hear his laughter. Tony Stark is in his fancy robotic suit with his overpriced haircut and blatant nonchalance. He didn’t give a shit that he just destroyed a home. To him, the idea of living in that is laughable. And laugh he did. 

The echo of his amusement irks you until you can no longer lay still. You shimmy to the bottom of the bed and climb off. You snatch your phone from the charger and pace around. The floor creaks under your feet. 

Didn’t he say he’d replace it? Maybe some things can’t be bought but you still own the lot, at least for another month. You just need something to put there. He said so. He owes you. 

So, where the heck is your trailer? 

You push your thumb down without thinking. You type, letting the vitriol stream out of your thumbs.  

‘Tony Stark destroyed my home and my life.  

Right now, I’m at my grandma’s house. Again. Me and my mom have been forced to seek refuge in her guest room. The smell of tobacco and cat piss is so pungent I could choke. I can’t sleep on the futon shared between the both of us and in the morning, I’ll turn in for a minimum-wage job and when I get my check, I still won’t be able to replace what he ruined. 

Four walls. That’s all we had and now we have nothing. Because that playboy, billionaire, douchebag didn’t look where he was flying. He may have saved New York but he has burnt our life to the ground. Literally.’ 

You attach one of the photos you snagged of the wreck. You took as many as you could hoping that the park might be able to use it for an insurance claim. Your heart thumps as you hit post. The little blue line fills up and the check mark flashes. 

You feel better. It’s always nice to be able to vent your problems and you can’t do so with your mom. She’ll just pick apart your words until it’s your fault. And your grandma can’t be bothered to listen either. She would only rant about how she’s stuck with a bunch of losers. 

You plug your phone back in and crawl back onto the futon, fitting in between your mom and the wall. You can get a few hours in before you have to drag yourself to the deli. Tony Stark can take whatever he wants but he won’t steal any more of your sleep. 

After another bout of restlessness, you sink into a shallow haze. You awake with a stone behind your forehead. You take some Advil as you climb out of bed. Your mom continues to snore as you dress in the musty clothes borrowed from your grandma. She’ll begrudge you those along with that the water you use to shower and brush your teeth. 

You leave the house in silence. You yawn and light up your phone on the way to the bus stop. You have to transfer from this route to your usual.  

Huh. That can’t be right. 50k? That’s absurd. You press down on the notification and it brings up your post. 

Oh. It’s real. Your post has blown up. Fifty-thousand. That’s pretty good but it’s hardly viral. If anything, the fanfiction girlies probably think it’s a fic preview. 

You put your phone away as the bus approaches. You dumb a handful of change in the machine as you board and find a seat near the front. Your head bobbles as your eyes droop. Now you can sleep. Huh. 

You open the deli as usual. You set to slicing the days orders and get the breads in the oven. The doors unlock just after eight and the usual customers mill in. When John gets there after ten, you step aside to check your phone. 

No way. A million. It’s impossible. 

It doesn’t matter anyway. A post on the internet isn’t going to get you your trailer back. It will die out soon enough. Maybe you should just delete it. No, that feels wrong. A shitty thing happened and you have a right to be unhappy about it. So, you will and you’ll scream it at your phone screen. 

You put your phone back in your apron and go back to work. The virtual world doesn’t matter. Esther wants her turkey breast. 

[daycourtofficial]

Falling in Love on the Fourth Floor - Part 8

Summary: Out of an act of desperation, you move in with a guy you kind of know who happens to have a really hot brother who lives next door.

Author’s note: this is ridiculous and incredibly self-indulgent but I don’t care I had so much fun writing this. This is the iconic karaoke chapter and I’m so excited 😌

(Masterlist)

Azriel drove the two of you through town, his motorcycle moving through traffic with ease. Your hold on him continues until he eventually pulls into a parking lot, stopping right in front of a small restaurant nestled beside an Insomnia Cookies store. You were quite impressed with how well you handled the ride - you had kept your gasps and nerves to a minimum.

Until you realized you had to get off the bike.

“Uhhh,” you say, looking at the ground as if the two or three feet away from the asphalt was a ravine.

He chuckles, sensing your hesitation.

“Hold onto my shoulders and just slide off.”

You breathe deeply, preparing yourself for the worst case scenario - either falling off the bike or death. You’re not entirely sure which is preferable.

You follow Azriel’s advice, your hands bracing your weight on his shoulders, sliding off with relative ease. You put your hands up in the air, jumping around at how proud you are of not dying. Azriel just chuckles, shaking his head as he mounts the bike, helping you pull off your helmet.

You two go in, and you look around to see only a one other couple at a table, eating what can only be described as the most delectable smelling sandwiches you’ve ever encountered. You spend a moment looking at the massive menu trying to figure out what sandwich you want. Azriel waits on you, and when you nod to him that you’re ready, he steps forward to the counter.

“Can I get a 12 inch triple meat and a 12 inch meatball sub, and whatever she’s having,” he says, motioning for you to tell him what you want.

You’re a bit surprised, and you desperately want to crack a joke about a 12 inch triple meat, but you bite your tongue, asking for a philly cheese steak instead.

Azriel pays, and you thank him as you two find a table.

“So… 12 inch triple meat, huh?”

Azriel snorts, “it’s Cassian’s go to.”

“What’s on it?”

“I’m pretty certain they just shove a bunch of different kinds of meat on bread, layer a bunch of cheese on top, and warm it up.”

“Hmmm,” you hum, “very on brand for him.”

The guy who took your order brings you your sandwiches in little baskets, one sandwich packed away in a bag.

Cassian’s triple meat, no doubt.

“How’d you like being my backpack?” Azriel asks, biting his sandwich, half of it coming out of the end.

“Excuse me?” You ask, taking a bite of your own, trying to keep the contents inside of the sandwich as you eat.

“My backpack. You were riding on my back, like a backpack.”

“Oh,” you push some hair behind your ear, “It uh wasn’t too bad, it was actually fun when I got used to it.”

“Yeah? Would you ride with me again?”

His eyes sparkle a bit at you, whether that was from the sunlight peaking through the window or if that was just Azriel, you’re not sure.

“Yeah, I think I would. When I was a kid I always wanted to ride a motorcycle,” you say, smiling. “How did you end up driving one?” You ask, not taking your eyes off of him

He hums, thinking about how to respond. “I always wanted to ride one, too. Then after the incident with my hands,” he holds up his gloved hands as if making a point, “after I relearned how to use my hands, all I could think about for years was riding. During my physical therapies, whenever it was getting hard or frustrating, I imagined myself older, being able to grip the handles, feel the wind on me.”

You just smile at him, unsure what to say, hoping your smile comes across as friendly as you tell him, “I just thought it looked cool.”

A smile breaks across his face, a beautiful laugh coming from him.

“It does look cool,” he replies, bunching up the paper from his sandwich once he finishes, throwing it into the basket.

“Rhys actually bought me the bike.”

Your eyes move from the paper to his face, and a somber look overtakes him.

“When we were kids he told me after those therapies that he’d buy me a bike once we were old enough.”

He shakes his head, the memories of all the times Rhys said those words to him coming in and out of his thoughts.

“I never expected him to follow through on it. But he did. He bought me the bike as a graduation gift.”

You were about to ask how an 18 year old could afford that, but Azriel beats you to it.

“Rhys’s dad is somewhat in the picture. If Rhys does things for him, mostly making appearances at family functions, he gets extra money.”

“His dad does pay our rent, and Rhys has a credit and debit card from his dad, but he also needed his dad to sign on for the bike.”

“Your brothers must really love you,” you say, reaching your hand out to cover his.

He looks up at you, hazel eyes peering into your own and he smiles, “yeah, yeah they do.”

-

You walk into the gym that Cassian and Azriel work at. It was quite large and it looked incredibly pristine. It’s full of people working out, seemingly everyone in town was spending their Saturday afternoon sweating the week off.

Azriel pulls out his phone, shooting a text to Cassian about his sandwich. The two of you chat idly about the gym, and Azriel tells you a bit about the guy who does the scheduling when you catch a glimpse of long hair in a half messy bun on the top of his head.

You see Cassian’s head come from a corner and he makes his way to you two, his grin getting bigger as he sees you next to his brother.

“How’d your date go last night?” He asks, not mentioning Az’s spare helmet in your hand or how if he blew out a breath you’d be touching his brother.

Azriel glares at Cassian over you, but you tell him, “uh, terribly, actually. He was a douche.”

Cassian grabs his lunch from Azriel, thanking him.

“That’s too bad.”

And yet, Cassian wouldn’t stop smiling at you. You go to ask him more, but he tells you, “I gotta go - I only have a few minutes to eat. Thanks,” he tells you, and before you realize what’s happening, he’s grabbing your head giving you a kiss on the forehead, doing the same to Azriel.

The two of you stand there confused as Cassian walks away, over his shoulder yelling, “do NOT forget about karaoke tonight!”

-

You stepped into your living room, to find Rhys, Mor, and Az lounging on your couches, not adhering to the bar’s theme. Rita’s did themed karaoke nights once a month and this month’s theme was cowboys.

Naturally you pulled out your Barbie costume from last Halloween, and are now looking at your non-costumed friends gobsmacked.

“Why is no one else dressed up?” You ask incredulously, as all three of them look towards you. Rhys and Mor start laughing, but Azriel lets his eyes graze up and down your body, his gaze making you wonder if you’re even wearing clothes right now.

Mor smiles at you, “we don’t follow the theme - Cassian does though.”

You huff, crossing your arms, “he made it seem like all of you dressed up!”

Rhys’s eyes dance with amusement as he tells you, “because he wanted you to dress up too.”

As if you summoned him, Cassian comes out wearing black leather pants, no shirt, a matching vest, and a cowboy hat. He looks at you, smiling wide. “You look great!” He tells you, clapping you on the shoulder as he walks past you. “Uber’s here.”

You don’t have time to turn around and change as your group is herded out the door and down the elevator. It hadn’t occurred to you to question how the five of you would fit into an uber until you got down to the curb, Mor bolting for the passenger seat as the guys get into the car.

“You can just sit on someone’s lap,” Mor tells you flippantly, before placing a finger on her nose telling you, “nose goes.”

Az, Rhys, and Cass get into the backseat, and Cass pats his lap for you, raising his eyebrows at you.

“Ew,” you tell him, clambering to get in on Az’s side. “I don’t trust you, Cass.”

You drape your legs over Rhys’s lap, your feet landing in Cassian’s hands as you get situated on Az’s lap. You shoot him a look, wanting to know if this is okay, but he’s talking to the uber driver.

You pull up your phone, typing a note into your notes app, showing it to him once he’s finished with whatever he was telling the driver.

Is this okay?

You show it to him as Cassian and Rhys are watching the end of a rugby game on Cassian’s phone on the other end of the backseat. Az reaches for your phone, his fingers gently brushing against yours as he grabs your phone. You watch him type, his fingers dancing across your keyboard, their scarred skin providing a texture you want to touch.

It’s more than fine.

He had replied, and you’re about to respond when he grabs your phone again, typing out:

Just like the way you look in that costume.

He hands you your phone back, smiling as a blush floods your cheeks. He puts his arms around your torso, holding you in place, and one of his hands gently holds onto your hips, securing you to him.

Sitting mostly in Azriel’s lap, you spend the car ride holding onto him, leaning your head into his neck for support while you talk to Cassian, who keeps threatening to tickle your feet. You tell him you get spazzy when tickled, which would give Rhys a free knee to the face.

“Please don’t, Cass. I’d like to keep my face intact for tonight.”

“Yeah because Feyre’s meeting us at Rita’s and he wants to look good,” Mor replies from the front seat, drawing out the last word.

Rhys rolls his eyes, but you do notice him unlock his phone to the messages between him and your friend, the last one asking her to let him know when she got there.

The five of you arrive to Rita’s, a bar located on the edge of campus, just close enough to be packed full of other students.

Mor leads the group in, with Rhys saying, “Feyre’s on her way.” The blonde leads your group to a large round booth in the corner, all of you piling in. Mor sits on your right as you maneuver your way in, Azriel right beside you.

Cassian sits on the edge, likely so he can get up and go sing without being too much of a hindrance. Rhys doesn’t sit down, heading to the bar to grab drinks for everyone instead.

And perhaps keep an eye on the door for a certain brunette.

The four of you sit in the booth, Cassian being uncharacteristically quiet as he waits for Rhysand to bring him his traditional shot before performing.

You nudge Az, getting him to turn his attention to his brother.

“You okay, Cass?”

Cassian shrugs him off, “I just want my shots. You know I prefer being a bit buzzed before going up there.”

You reach in front of Azriel, squeezing Cassian’s forearm, “you’re going to be great!”

Cassian softly smiles at you, his hand covering yours in a gentle squeeze, “thanks, sweetheart.”

Cassian did seem in better spirits, opting to pick up a conversation with Mor about the best shots to drink before karaoke.

You turn to Az, the two of you closer than necessary in the booth, but you can’t bring yourself to scoot away.

“So, Barbie huh?” He asks, his fingers touching the pink pleather fabric on your shoulder.

You’re confused for a moment, before realizing what he’s talking about. “Oh, yeah. Mor wanted us to go as different Barbies from the movie for Halloween - she was rollerskating Barbie, I was cowgirl Barbie, and Feyre was the pink gingham dress Barbie.”

He rests his arm on the booth behind you, and you stay as still as possible so you won’t scare him off as he asks, “no Kens?”

You laugh, “no Kens, unfortunately.”

His smile is on the verge of cracking his face in half as he says, “maybe this Halloween you’ll have some Kens.”

Before you can reply, Rhysand comes back with a tray of shots and Feyre behind him, wearing a very cute black mini dress.

“Traitor!” You shout at her, as she scooches in next to Mor.

“Rhys told me we didn’t actually dress up,” she defends, holding her hands up. Your eyes shoot to violet ones, their gaze full of mischief. Rhys smiles at you, and your jaw drops, “and you didn’t think to extend the same courtesy to me?”

Rhys’s grin grows feral, “I thought surely with all the texting you and Azriel have been doing, he would have told you.”

You turn, smacking him on the shoulder as he chuckles. “Okay, okay, I should have told you, but you were so excited about it, how could I rip that from you?”

You scoff, “I look like an idiot.”

“A cute idiot.”

Your blush doesn’t go unnoticed by everyone at the table, as Mor pokes her nose in. “I think it’s only fair if next time we come out Azzy and Rhys adhere to the theme.”

Your eyes light up, pointing to Mor, “oh oh oh, I like that idea!”

Rhys turns to cousin, “and why am I involved in this?”

“It only seems fair. You told Feyre that we don’t dress up, so you should have told her as well.”

Azriel butts in, “well Feyre could have told her too.”

Feyre motions her hand over her throat, trying to stop Azriel from speaking further.

“It’s decided then,” Mor says, “the three of you adhere to the theme for next month’s karaoke.”

You pick up your glass and clink it to Mor’s, solidifying the deal. Everyone else is groaning, slumping back in their seats, but this agreement causes Cassian to become invigorated. He’s buzzing with excitement, and at least three shots of vodka, as one of the bartenders walks up to the mic and says, “next up for karaoke - everyone’s favorite - Cassian!”

Cassian gets up, all of you wishing him luck as Mor places a sloppy kiss on his cheek. He prances up to the stage as the scattered applause dies out. The opening notes to Shania Twain’s “Man I Feel Like a Woman” come through the speakers. Cassian lifts his head to the mic to sing, “let’s go, girls”, then turns back around away from the mic. He begins swaying his hips in time with the beat, the leather pants he’s wearing making his ass and his legs look phenomenal. His vest rises a bit as he raises his arms, and you can see the bottom of the tattoo he had gotten during your drunk escapades.

“Are we sure Cassian’s not a stripper?” You ask the table, but Mor shushes you so she can watch the show.

You turn to Azriel, leaning in close to him to whisper, “Do you know how to whistle?”

Your whole body is warm as he leans close to your ear, whispering, “Yes, why?”

You miss the look Rhys gives the two of you, huddled together impossibly close in the large expansive booth.

“I want to whistle, but I don’t know how. Can you do it?”

He obliges your request, rolling his eyes as he wolf whistles at Cassian, who beams at the attention.

You giggle, whispering to Azriel, “his stage name should be 12 inch triple meat.”

You two giggle at the joke before turning your attention back to the stage. Cassian makes it through the first chorus, and he is not receiving his dues. No one is paying any attention to him, and you’re about to ask if there’s anything you guys can do, when Mor grabs your and Feyre’s arms, pulling you out to the little dance floor in front of the stage.

You guys start singing and dancing with him, hips swaying with the music. You guys are singing to each other, smiles plastered on your faces.

You’re lost in the moment when you feel Cassian’s warm hand wrap around your wrist dragging you up on the stage. He has his other hand on Mor, so you quickly grab Feyre’s wrist, all three of you assisting him with the vocals on the “oh, oh, oh”.

It was ridiculous - the four of you on this tiny stage, everyone at Rita’s not caring as you all danced and sang, the three of you providing backing vocals for Cassian.

Three of the most important people in your life singing to Shania Twain.

It was ridiculous. It was everything.

The song ends, and you can hear Rhys and Azriel clapping enthusiastically as the four of you head back to your table.

You slide back into Azriel’s side, his smile making everything inside of you burn for more of it. You spend the rest of the night drinking as Rhys and Cassian regale you all with stories of karaoke nights of the past, the unspoken words hanging between them, but not making their way into the discussion.

The past nights of singing were nowhere near as fun as tonight was.

[strnilolover]

NNN - matt sturniolo - family issues

!Warming! : this writing may contain sensitive topics for some people, including family fighting and burn out. please read with caution if family arguments or arguments in general easily trigger you.

You had slammed the cabinet door shut harder than you expected to. Your mothers words cutting your skin like a knife, your patience snapping like a taut rubber band that had been stretched too far. “I can’t believe you just said that.” you gritted, turning to her.

Your mom stood across the kitchen, arms crossed, her eyes narrowed in irritation. “I said what I said. You’re always lounging around, doing nothing, while I’m the one keeping this house together.” she spat out.

“Are you kidding me?” Your voice rose as you turned to face her, incredulous. “I vacuumed the whole house this morning, cleaned the bathroom, and scrubbed the kitchen. I’ve been running around all day trying to keep this place livable while you’ve been sitting on the couch!” your voice raised more — you were irritated and upset.

why can’t she just see how hard you work?

“And yet, the laundry is still sitting in the basket, isn’t it?” she shot back, her tone sharp and cutting. “You can’t even finish one thing properly!” her own hands slammed against the counter as her words left her lips.

Your hands balled into fists at your sides, shaking. “I can’t do everything! I’m one person! You don’t even notice the things I do unless there’s something left undone.” you could feel the tears brimming in your eyes — but you couldn’t let her see she was affecting you, you had to be strong.

“Oh, poor you,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Life is so hard for you, isn’t it? You act like you’re doing me some huge favor by cleaning, but you live here too. It’s your responsibility.”

You stared at her, your chest heaving. “Do you even hear yourself? I am doing my part, and then some! You’re the one who doesn’t lift a finger but still complains that nothing’s good enough.” you choked out.

Her face twisted in anger. “Don’t you dare talk to me like that. You have no idea what I deal with every day, keeping this house running and keeping you in it!” she screamed, coming around the counter and getting closer to you,

“Keeping me in it? Are you serious right now?” you echoed, your voice trembling more with disbelief and hurt. “You act like I’m some freeloader who doesn’t contribute. I’m breaking my back trying to help you, and all you do is tear me down!” Your said. “And on top of everything, I worked a full shift this morning. What more do you want from me?”

you were trying, you really were. Did she not see that?

Her scoff was sharp, cutting through the room. “Oh, sure. You do barely the minimum and expect a medal. Maybe if you spent less time pretending to help and more time actually contributing, I wouldn’t have to ask you for money all the time!” she was almost in your face now, you could feel her breath fanning you.

You stared at her, your hands trembling with frustration as you leaned back a little. “Are you seriously throwing that in my face? Every time you ask me for money, I give it to you. Every single time. Do you even know how hard it is to keep my job and still manage everything at home?”

She shook her head. “Don’t act like you’re some kind of saint,” she snapped. “You live here. It’s your responsibility to pitch in. Or do you think you’re entitled to a free ride?”

“I do pitch in! I’m doing everything! I pay bills when you’re short, I clean up after everyone, and I still go to work to make sure I can cover my own expenses. What do you even do besides sit there and criticize me?” you snapped back, leaning forward from your leaned back position — though that might not have been the best idea.

Her nostrils flared as her eyes turned dark, and she jabbed a finger at your chest — the force digging into your skin making you wince slightly. “Don’t you dare take that tone with me. I’ve sacrificed everything for this family, and all I ask is for you to pull your weight.”

“Pull my weight?” you repeated, your body beginning to tremble more from your overwhelmed emotions. “I’ve been carrying this house on my back, and you know it! But sure, let’s pretend I’m the problem. It’s easier for you, isn’t it?” you sniffled slightly, the words barely making it past your lips and you tried to keep it together.

“You know what?” she snapped, throwing her hands up. “If you hate it here so much, then maybe you shouldn’t come back. Go find somewhere else to stay if you think you’ve got it so bad.”

Her words stung, piercing deeper than you expected. “Fine,” you said, your voice cold and steady despite the tears beginning to spill over your waterline. “I will.”

Grabbing your keys and slipping on your shoes, you muttered under your breath, “Maybe you’ll finally notice how much I actually do when I’m not here to do it anymore.”

“Don’t come crying to me when you realize how easy you have it,” she called out as you slammed the door behind you.

The cold night air hit your face, mingling with the tears that spilled over as you made your way to your car. Your hands were shaking so badly that it took three tries to get the keys into the ignition.

You barely registered the drive to Matt’s house, your mind replaying the fight over and over like a broken record. By the time you reached his front door, your tears were coming harder, the lump in your throat so heavy it hurt to swallow.

You hadn’t even raised your hand to knock when the door opened. Matt stood there in sweatpants and a hoodie, his hair tousled like he’d been lying down, but his entire demeanor shifted the moment he saw you. His brows furrowed in concern as his eyes scanned your tear-streaked face.

“Baby,” he said softly, stepping aside to let you in. “What’s wrong?”

As soon as his arms opened, you crumbled into him. The second you felt his warmth and smelled the familiar scent of his cologne — something woodsy and comforting — you broke down completely. Your hands clutched at his hoodie as your sobs wracked your body.

“Hey, hey,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around you tightly. “It’s okay. I’ve got you. Just let it out.”

He gently guided you into the living room, keeping you close as he sat down on the couch and pulled you into his lap. His large hands rubbed soothing circles on your back while his other hand cradled the back of your head.

“I-I can’t do it anymore, Matt,” you finally managed to choke out between sobs. “She doesn’t see anything I do. She doesn’t care. She just — she just keeps tearing me down.”

“Who?” he asked softly, leaning back just enough to look at you. His hand moved to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. “Who’s tearing you down?”

“My mom,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “She said I don’t do anything, but I do everything. I worked this morning, cleaned the whole house, and then she asked me for money again — like she always does — and still told me I don’t pull my weight. It’s like… no matter how hard I try, it’s never enough for her.”

Matt’s jaw tightened, his eyes darkening with anger. “That’s not fair. You work so hard, and she has no right to treat you like that. I’ve seen how much you do, how much you give. You’re amazing, and if she can’t see that, then that’s on her — not you.” he said, holding you tighter to him.

You sniffled, wiping at your cheeks. “It just hurts, you know? I’ve been trying so hard to keep everything together, and she acts like I’m nothing but a burden.”

“You are not a burden,” he said firmly, tilting your chin up so you had no choice but to meet his gaze. “Do you hear me? You are not a burden. You’re one of the strongest, most selfless people I know. She doesn’t deserve you.” he stated, making sure you knew his words were true.

“But she’s my mom,” you said softly, your voice trembling. “I want to make her proud. I want her to see that I’m trying.” Matt’s expression softened, and he leaned in to rest his forehead against yours. “I know you do. But you don’t have to destroy yourself to earn someone else’s approval, especially hers. You’re enough just as you are, okay? You’re more than enough.”

You let out a shaky breath, fresh tears spilling over, but this time they weren’t just from sadness. There was something in his words, in the way he held you, that eased the tightness in your chest.

“Thank you,” you whispered. He shook his head, “You don’t have to thank me,” he said gently. “That’s what I’m here for.”

He adjusted you in his lap, tucking the blanket tighter around your shoulders before pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “Listen, you’re staying here tonight. No arguments. I’m not letting you go back there like this.” he muttered against your temple.

“I don’t want to go back,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “Then you won’t,” he said firmly. “This is your home tonight, and for as long as you need it to be.”

You rested your head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. His hand rubbed slow, soothing circles on your back, and his voice was soft when he spoke again.

“You know you’re not alone, right? You’ve got me. Always.”

You sniffled once more. “I know,” you whispered. “I just… I feel so unappreciated sometimes. Like nothing I do matters.” you could feel the self doubt settling into you now — from your mothers words earlier. Were you really not doing a good enough job?

“It matters to me,” he said, his voice steady and sure. “Everything you do matters to me. I see you, and I’m so proud of you. You’re doing more than anyone should ever have to, and you’re doing it so well.”

You looked up at him, your heart clenching at the sincerity in his eyes. “You really mean that?”

He hummed, “Of course I do,” he said, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I’ll tell you as many times as you need to hear it until you believe me. You’re incredible, and anyone who can’t see that is blind.” And a soft laugh escaped you, he grinned, his thumb brushing your cheek. “There she is. There’s my girl.”

You felt your cheeks flush at the nickname, and for the first time all day, the tightness in your chest began to ease. “Do you want to talk more about it, or do you just want to relax?” he asked gently. “Relax,” you said after a moment. “I’m too tired to think anymore.”

“Good call,” he said with a smile, grabbing the remote from the coffee table. “How about something stupidly funny? Or do you want me to cook something for you first? I can make you those pancakes you like.” You shook your head, leaning into him. “Just stay with me.”

“Always,” he murmured, pulling you closer.

He put on some random comedy show, and you both sat in comfortable silence for a while. His hand never stopped tracing lazy patterns on your back, and every now and then, he’d drop a kiss to the top of your head. By the time you started to drift off, your body nestled against his, you felt a little lighter than you had in days.

© strnilolover

a/n : am i self projecting? maybe. but i’m not in that situation anymore and haven’t been for over a year. but please, if any of you are in this kind of situation, know that there is always a way out. don’t be afraid to ask for help. (i also wrote this on the bus without my glasses so i’m so sorry if some parts may not make sense)

[ddejavvu]

another idea!

hotch has one heck of a crush on r. but he’s trying to be super chill about it bc the only person he knows she’s dated was a woman and he’s Not gonna be that guy.

but man oh man is she cute.

so he pines quietly hoping no one notices.

but of course they do! and the team keeps trying to get them together.

something something with the line “hotch, i’m bi”

this actually melted my soul it's the bare minimum but when it comes from him i'm on my knees... hotch x bi!reader representation!!!!!

--

Aaron's fairly certain Reid didn't actually forget something at his desk. Nor that he truly needed Prentiss to walk back there with him, 'in case he got lost'. And Penelope definitely did not want to talk to Strauss. He has a sneaking suspicion they all only ducked out of the elevator to leave you two alone on the ride down, which is frustrating because he's trying to respect you.

"Any weekend plans?" He turns to you with raised brows, trying to keep conversation going and void of awkwardness.

"Uh, not really," You shake your head, smiling at him. It's hard for him to tamp down the cartwheel that his stomach does, but he knows he needs to.

"Me either," He admits, "I think I'm going to sleep in tomorrow."

"Oh, what," You scoff, lightheartedly teasing, "All the way until eight in the morning? Hotch, you went for a six A.M run on your birthday, you're incapable of sleeping in."

"That's not true!" He laughs, more genuinely than he ever would for your other teammates, "I'll make at least nine."

"Oh, wow." You nod, grin permanently etched onto your face, "And you'll still be at the coffee shop before they open."

The one by his apartment opens at ten. He briefly considers asking if you go to the same one based on the info you've given him, and then decides that there's nothing better to do with your remaining time in the elevator.

"You don't happen to go to Morning Roast, do you?"

"I do!" You turn to him with eyes lit up, "You go there too?"

"Every morning before work," He chuckles, "I guess I go too early for you."

"Oh," You huff, elbowing him gently, "Shut up. I'm not up that late."

"You came in almost half an hour late today!" He gawps at you, but where there'd typically be frustration present, there's only amusement.

"That's because some guy was flirting with me this morning and I barely escaped," You sigh, watching the numbers on the elevator screen tick down closer to G for Ground, "I swear, if one more creep tries hitting on me I'm just gonna tell him I'm gay."

Hotch stops dead.

You're not?

"Uh," He clears his throat, "Are you- you're not? I thought you mentioned an ex-girlfriend."

"Oh! Well, yeah," You nod, "But I'm bi, Hotch."

"Oh," He keeps his expression in check, even though he feels like grinning so hard his face splits in two, "I didn't know that."

"Well neither did I, for a while," You snort, and the elevator dings, the doors sliding open to showcase the lobby.

"I hope no one bothers you tomorrow," Hotch lets you exit first, following after you to the entrance of the parking garage, "Hey, if I do sleep in, maybe I'll catch you there."

"Oh, you can be my bodyguard!" You exclaim, eyes lighting up once more, "Thanks, Hotch. Okay, say, nine?"

"Eight," He grins, and revels in your groan-turned-laugh, "Fine, nine."

"See you then, bodyguard!" You click the unlock button on your car and duck inside, leaving him standing in the middle of the parking garage and smiling like a fool as you pull away.

[look-at-the-soul]

Can’t love in the dark (Part 2)

Tommy Shelby x reader

Sequel to “All I ask”

Request: kind of 🤭 @l1-l4 Andy threw a fantastic idea one day and I saw it, and from that moment I’ve been thinking about it daily… until this idea worked perfectly with another request for my Adele challenge ♥️ Andy, you asked for an angsty story, here you go! I hope you and everyone else like it 🥰 that gif was amazing and summed Tommy’s anger.

Summary: (There’s a time jump between this and the first part) Tommy keeps watching over Y/N, sending flowers, even after getting married to someone else. Until one day he exploded after finding the truth that caused a terrible accident.

“Can’t love in the dark” is one of my favorite Adele songs, the sentiment she sings with every time she performs it on stage gives me chills 🥹

⚠️ Angst but with a little surprise at the end 🤭

Word count: 4,727 (without the lyrics)

Making the decision to let Tommy go was the hardest thing you ever had to do, but it was for the best, or at least you tried to convince yourself of that. Crying your heart out at night you tried to comfort yourself by thinking that his baby would be able to grow next to his father. Forcing yourself to push aside the feelings and expectations you started to develop towards Tommy and the future he had shared with you that’d be taking off right after the races.

He’d have another priorities from now on.

The following day you quit your part time job at the Shelby Company Ltd. and focused entirely on the shoes shop. Tommy tried absolutely everything in his power but all he got in response was a sad glance that broke his heart or you leaving him at the shop speaking to himself while you pretended to be busy in the back.

There was nothing to be angry or resentful towards him, he slept with Grace before meeting you after all… but deep down you wished it was you instead of her the one getting pregnant.

With a heavy heart you thought how you could only dream of what could’ve been.

You had been on the edge ever since, struggling to sleep, eating the bare minimum, you felt like a fragile thing that’d break at the slightest contact, trying to hide from your poor father the sadness that you carried around like a heavy weight on your shoulders.

Nothing seemed to be working out the way he had planned. Not after you made it very clear that the future he had envisioned of the two of you together wasn’t possible, he held the hopes still, thinking you’d accept the marriage proposal and he could be there for his son, but you quickly let him him know that was way too modern and looked extremely bad for you. He tried convincing you over and over, assuring that it would be just fine because it was you the one he wanted to get married to, not Grace.

There was nothing he could say would convince you otherwise.

But what really hit him was that one time when you on the edge of crying asked him to leave, you actually yelled at him frustrated because it was too damn painful to accept the fact that he didn’t belong to you, you accepted out loud that you were jealous of Grace for giving him something you wouldn’t.

As weeks went by, he got the news that Grace’s husband ended with his own life, he decided to not get involved in that matter but it was hard to stay away at the same time because she was pregnant with his baby. She was deeply affected by the way events turned out, constantly on the edge and his major concern was the wellbeing of his unborn child so he did everything he could to ensure it. One thing led to the other and he ended up getting married with Grace because it was the right thing to do.

So here he was, stuck in a marriage for the wrong reasons, thinking of another woman, dreaming of another woman that was slowly, little by little slipping away from him. It was impossible to focus on the fucking papers in front of him, work had been pilling up because he was always looking for a ridiculous excuse to see you, even from afar.

Polly stormed into her nephew’s office fuming after learning that he had blinders guarding Y/N when she took the train to the south to see a new vendor. Despite what happened, Polly still had a good relationship with her.

“It’s been over a year Thomas, you have to let her go, you got married to Grace, have a son now… Y/N needs to live her life, rebuild and start over.”

“What the fuck do you mean start over?” He squinted his eyes, blowing away the smoke of his cigarette.

“Oh! Please don’t play dumb with me, do you really expect her to remain single forever?”

The realization sinking in, it felt as if he got kicked in the gut. The long gulp of whiskey didn’t help.

“No… no, there can’t be another man in her life.”

“Are you even listening to what you say?! She deserves to be happy!”

“What do you know? Ey?!”

“There’s someone who’s interested in her but he can’t get close because of your bloody guards!” Polly exploded.

Jaw clenched at the thought of another man starting to court you. No, anything but that.

“I’ve to protect her.” Tommy leant on his desk with palms wide open. Head hanging low.

“You lost her and all for your stupid revenge towards the woman you’re married now!”

“I never thought she would get pregnant, trust me that wasn’t my intention.”

“But it’s too late now for that… just let the girl move on.” Turning on her heels she walked towards the door. “And be more discreet, the maids keep gossiping about how you are sleeping in the guest room.”

****

Hearing the bell, you called from the back of the room; “The store is closed now, I just forgot to change the sign” but you cut yourself after finding him at the other side of the counter.

“Y/N… please.”

Take your eyes off of me so I can leave

I'm far too ashamed to do it with you watching me

Defeated, you gave up, manners long forgotten. “How many times do I have to tell you that you’re not welcomed here anymore?”

Your attitude made him remember the first time he saw you and Tommy had to hide the smirk that was about to appear on his lips.

Please, stay where you are

Don't come any closer

“Just leave, Thomas, for good.” You pointed at the door. “Goodness, sometimes I wish you could keep your fucking promise and burn this fucking place down so I would’ve a reason to go away.” You admitted with anger, pacing the small shop.

Don't try to change my mind

I'm being cruel to be kind

“I could never do that to you.”

“That look doesn’t charm me anymore, your shoes are new, I bet all bloody Birmingham has new shoes so you really don’t have anything else to do here.”

“I want to help you.”

“Don’t.” You stated bluntly. “I don’t want your help or anything for the matter.”

“When I look around and see all I got, I should be pleased by the way things turned out. But I can’t… because I’m not sharing it with you.”

He was sincere and genuine, you knew that.

“Those were your dreams, not mine.” You added one more -an unnecessary- coat of product to clean the shoes, just to distract you from his gaze.

“Polly mentioned you need to move on. But I can’t let you go.” He was selfish without question, but those strong feelings for you didn’t go away even after marrying Grace.

“So I assume you’ll just go and use that razor blade in any potential man I lay my eyes on.”

“That’s not a bad idea, I’ll consider it thanks.” He added with a smile, loving the irritation in your eyes.

“What do you want Thomas?”

“You.”

It was one word but it included everything he really wanted.

“And what do you suggest then? You want me to be your mistress? That’s not going to happen.”

“Y/N…”

Emotions got the best of her, her eyes filled with tears. “I can’t love you in the dark.”

“Do you nee-”

I can't love you in the dark

It feels like we're oceans apart

There is so much space between us

Baby, we're already defeated

Shaking your head you gave him a warning look. “If you don’t leave right now, I’m going to start throwing shoes at your head for real.”

That was an image he would’ve loved to see, and deep down he knew you would do it without a doubt. So he decided to save himself the embarrassment and headed to the door, but before he even got to open the door, he turned to give you one more look.

Everything changed me

“Please just don’t kiss him the same way you kissed me… cause if you do, you’ll remember me.”

Your fist closed around the shoe you had been holding, way to expensive to throw it away, so instead you threw the brush you had been using. Letting out a groan in frustration.

Time didn’t make it any easier to forget him, all the opposite the feelings for him seemed to be stronger than ever, you wouldn’t stand between him and his son. You returned every single present and basket with fruits and flowers he sent over the last months right after reading every note he added to whatever the present was. His words were tattooed in your heart.

You have given me something that I can't live without

You mustn't underestimate that when you are in doubt

If only he didn’t see Grace back then, you’d be enjoying life together.

****

“You wanted to see me Tommy?” Scudboat poked his head from the door.

“Come in, close the door.” As he saw the blinder step in, he took a long swing of his whiskey, the liquid burning. “I need you to ask your wife to go to Y/N’s shoes shop.”

“Again?” Asked in shock Scudboat, he just went last week, but as Tommy gave him a dead stare, he hid his hands in his pockets.

“Yes, again, but ask her to go on Monday after eleven o’clock that’s after Y/N left for the market, and it will take her a while to go back to the shop and you’ll give her mother this money.” Tommy planned. He knew you’d go then to prepare lunch for your father and eat with him, then you’d take over the shoe shop while your mother returned home.

Tommy knew every single step you took, at what time you got the newspaper and each vendor you’d visit. Yet, you were so far away from him.

It was unfair for you, he knew that. He’d never ask you to be his mistress or anything, he just wished to find a fucking way to get you back. It was hard also for him to admit there was a time when he thought that maybe, just maybe over time he’d learn to love Grace like he used to years ago, but deep down he knew he’d never fully forgive her for betraying him. Let alone having a son together would make their marriage work.

But I don't want to carry on like everything is fine

The longer we ignore it, all the more that we will fight

“What happened Johnny?” Tommy cleared his throat getting anxious by the minute.

“Ehh you won’t like I-” Johnny muttered but he cut himself off when Grace stepped into the office.

“Tommy…” she looked over at Johnny several times, like trying to give him a hint to leave them. “It’s getting late.”

He found it extremely annoying to get interrupted, leaning back in his chair he flicked his cigarette. “I know.”

“Are you coming to say goodnight to Charlie?” She tried batting her eyelashes at him, the sweetest smile on her lips.

“Later, I’m working.”

“Bu-”One annoyed look and a loud sigh and Grace brought a hand to the end of her hair to disguise her disappointment. “Alright.”

Rolling his shoulders, Tommy looked at Johnny again. “So?”

“Tom I don’t like this, why can’t you just leave the poor girl alone? You’ve a family now, a boy.”

But Tommy kept shaking his head. “I’m paying you to watch her and report her moves to me, not asking if you like it or not.”

Polly knew him, his uncle Charlie was able to read him like the palm of his hand, but Johnny couldn’t understand the motives to keep tracking Y/N down.

“You broke up a year ago, got married… there’s no reason to-”

“Johnny, I’m not going to ask you again.” He dragged the words, if it wasn’t for the desk between them, he would’ve Johnny Dogs by the collar of his shirt now.

“Y/N is dating someone.” Johnny murmured, keeping his head down.

A heavy silence filled the Arrow House office.

Please, don't fall apart

I can't face your breaking heart

Tommy got up from his chair and walked quietly towards the window finding darkness only.

“Who is he?” He asked with more control than he expected.

Johnny made a face. “Don’t do this to yourself Tommy, let her move on.”

The man with icy eyes gave him a side look, it was enough to make him talk.

“He’s a Doctor, respectable, good background, treats her right, sends flowers every four or five days, walks with her to the park on Wednesdays and Fridays, on Saturday he goes in for dinner but leaves right after that. On Sundays she brings him food to the hospital and...”

“Apple pie?” Tommy completed while Johnny nodded.

Tommy knew the fucking recipe from start to finish, he could almost smell it and his mouth watered by the simple memory of how it tasted.

Did she give the doctor a small piece with her fork like she used to do with him?

Did she kiss the corner of his mouth after having a bite to remove the remains of sugar?

“That’s all Johnny, thank you.” He swallowed hard, memories making his chest ache.

Johnny wondered if he should also tell Tommy another thing he found out while following them.

Stopping right in front of the heavy door, Johnny twisted the peaky cap between his hands.

“He bought a ring two days ago Tommy.”

“Johnny,” His emotionless voice stopped him, “don’t follow her, you can go back to the gypsy camp.”

Once alone, Tommy pinched the bridge of his nose, defeated he took the glass of whiskey upstairs.

Looking at his son sleeping in his crib he couldn’t help but wonder why he made the mistake of fucking Grace that one time, he swore he could contain himself and he’d only use her to drive Campbell mad. But no, he was weak and the only time they were together she got pregnant. This wasn’t supposed to be how he envisioned his life, he wanted to date you, then propose to you, get married and start a family… you had been there for him to pick up the broken pieces from the ground that Grace left. Somehow you managed to make him softer, showed him he could trust and love again.

It wasn’t a surprise when you took a step back, didn’t accept his apologies, didn’t want to hear his explanations, packing your belongings from his office the very same night of the races, and closed the doors to your heart.

He begged, was willing to get on his knees to ask for forgiveness but you wouldn’t listen. His first mistake was to sleep with Grace that night, the second, marry her because she was with a child.

Was he being selfish? How could he let you go when you got so deep inside his heart?

You were slipping away from him, little by little, if you officially started a relationship with someone else, that man won’t waste time after realizing how fucking awesome you were, and if that happened, there was nothing left he could do to get you back.

I can't love you in the dark

It feels like we're oceans apart

There is so much space between us

“Why don’t you come to bed, Tommy?” Grace circled his desk and slipped her arms around his neck from behind. “It’s late.”

“In a minute.” He replied pretending to look at the papers scattered over the oak desk.

“I think you sho-”

“I said in a fucking minute!” He lost it.

Grace made a little jump when he raised his voice. “I heard what you said, I’m just trying to be a good wife.”

“Don’t try, Grace… just don’t try.” He added sharply.

“I’m doing everything I’m supposed to be doing Tommy, I take care of our house, look over Charlie, I make sure you’ve everything you need and yet I’m always alone here and when my husband is finally home by the end of the day I want him to take care of me.”

Tommy saw Grace toying with her wedding band.

“I’ve a load shit to do, alright?”

“Is that true or are you sleeping with some whore around?”

Her accusation made him snap his head at her. “What did you just said?”

“You haven’t even touch me in weeks…”

He wanted to sarcastically laugh at her question. You wouldn’t let him set a foot in your shop, let alone sleep in your bed.

“The way I see it, if you’re not with me that means you’re fucking someone else. Just tell me what you want and I’ll do it.”

He didn’t have the balls to say that the last time they slept together, he fantasized it was you instead of her, your name almost slipped out of his lips. But it would’ve drive Grace mad.

“I’m trying to go legal, Grace. That’s all… just go to sleep.”

“Tomm-” She started again but he cut her off.

“Don’t make me repeat myself again.”

Before she left, Tommy could swear he heard a sob but he was busy emptying the whiskey in his glass as he stared into the fire absently. Throwing his head back atop of the couch he wondered if you were by yourself that night.

The following day Grace insisted on joining him to visit his beloved horse, who was being trained at another facility. She started telling Charlie he’d see horses and the kid got too excited to advice her against the idea.

“… as I walked into the jewelry, I saw these lovely earrings that match perfectly…” Grace chatted non stop as they were on their way to the stables. He was looking forward a quiet day, but Grace had other ideas.

He just wished she could sleep just like Charlie was doing in her arms.

“Are you listening?”

Tommy dragged his eyes from the road to look at Grace for an instant, snapping out of his own thoughts.

“Yeah.”

“So what do you think?”

Shuddering, he took a long puff from his cigarette, feeling the smoke burn in his throat.

“I knew it, Tommy… you’re not paying attention.”

“Can you please stop this?!”

“Don’t raise your voice, you’ll wake up Charlie.” She tried but it was too late, the kid was already fussing. “See what you did?”

“You started this.” He pointed angrily.

“Shh, shh Charlie don’t cry.” Grace tried to get his boy settled, luckily he found a couple of horses out there.

“Look over there Charlie.” Tommy pointed. “There’s a horse.”

“Joshiee.” Charlie repeated, clapping.

Stopping the car, Tommy took Charlie in his arms, leaving Grace behind him. The gentleman in him wouldn’t be proud. But each passing day it was harder to pretend that he cared.

Placing his son on the ground, Tommy offered his hand to guide him.

“Come ‘ere.” Pointing at the fishes in the water trough, Tommy looked at the kid smiling with his chubby hand extended. “Goldfish keep the water clean.” He explained as if Charlie could understand. Grace joined them minutes later.

“I’ve been thinking… we should go away, for a family holiday.” Grace proposed brushing away a lock from her face.

Tommy shook his head instantly.

“Can’t do that, I’ve lots of work to do.”

“For a few days.” She tried again.

“No, you can go with Charlie though.”

Grace unamused expression didn’t have any effect on him. He was used by now.

*****

Tommy felt a rush of adrenaline through his body as he pushed past the people gathered on the street. The flames consuming the small shop, people trying to use buckets to attempt to extinguish the fire.

“Y/N!” Was all he could think of as he was desperately looking around for you.

We're not the only ones, I don't regret a thing

Every word I've said, you know I'll always mean

Everything was chaos.

Someone shoved him from behind, but since he let his guard down, he never noticed. An angry voice called for him and he recognized it right away.

“You must be happy now, finally kept your promise of burning my place down… MY MOTHER WAS INSIDE! You bastard! Get outta here!” Your fist landed on his chest as he was trying to process everything.

Tommy felt a rush of relief wash over him as he saw you were alive, but then he got in defensive mode.

“You destroyed years of hard work! My grand parents opened this store, my father started here cleaning shoes until he got a promotion and met my mother.” You spat with tears in your eyes, not caring about the venom and anger in your voice, or the people staring. “I HATE YOU THOMAS SHELBY, and I hope you pay for this.”

“I didn’t do this.” He let out a heavy sigh, shocked by your accusation.

His heart was shattered to know you thought he could do something like this. His stomach turned into a tight knot as he found the disappointment in your eyes.

“As if I didn’t know you, leave for good and don’t you ever come back.” You spat with anger oozing from every pore.

It is the world to me that you are in my life

But I want to live and not just survive

Walking backwards, he stumbled with someone who was trying to help. On his way to his vehicle he saw your mother sitting next to another woman on bench, at least she wasn’t injured.

“Find whoever did this.” Tommy instructed one of the blinders before leaving the place, he still couldn’t believe this was happening, but he had an engagement to attend and besides there was nothing he could do if you didn’t want him there.

Rushing into Arrow House he needed to hurry up to be on time, luckily Frances had his outfit prepared. The phone had been ringing in his office, but he really needed to get out of the house as soon as possible, after adjusting the last touches to his tuxedo, he moved to walk around the car, finding Grace already waiting for him. She welcomed him with a smile and a kiss that took him by surprise, there was something in her eyes different, it seemed like she didn’t had been bothering him about another woman in his life.

“Everything will get better for us after tonight Tommy, I just know.” She checked her reflection.

He doubted it was a possibility, but decided to have a peaceful night for once, specially at an event like this. He needed to raise funds.

“Where have you been? You were almost late.” She asked casually disturbing the peace he was looking for.

“Had some trouble at the shop. Finn messed up.” He lied.

“Hmm that’s weird, I looked for you there and couldn’t find you.”

“Went to the Garrison afterwards, that’s the reason I was late.” The lies slipped from his lips so easily.

She wanted to add something else, but Polly intercepted him by the door. “Scudboat has been looking for you, he looked deadly worried but wouldn’t tell me what’s going on.”

“Polly not now, please.” Turning around his head, he found the city Council leader with Grace.

And as they engaged in conversation, Tommy’s gaze was fixed by the entrance, as Father John Hughes and that insufferable MP entered. He couldn’t even stand to watch them, they weren’t welcome so he better hurry up to finish whatever the hell they’re wanted.

“Brother you need to know something.” Arthur whispered into his ear pushing him towards the staircase for some privacy.

With a heavy sigh, Tommy shook his head. “Not now Arthur, I can’t deal with anything else right now.” He spotted his wife talking to that mad Duchess.

“It was Grace.” Arthur admitted.

Confused, Tommy gave him a long look.

“Grace started the fire at the shoes shop, she saw a woman inside and thought it was Y/N. Someone recognized her.”

His head was spinning, anger building up and reaching unknown limits. Everything was so confusing, the bile rising up in his throat. Y/N could’ve been dead by now.

Storming like a bull he pushed past the people to find his wife.

“Come with me.” He grabbed Grace by the arm roughly making her gasp.

“Tommy I was talking to-”

“Why are you so worked up Mr. Shelby?” Tatiana smirked. His head was pounding. “I was telling your wife about the sapphire she’s wearing.”

“Tatiana said it’s Russian.” Grace interjected eager to participate.

And somehow the conversation escalated quickly, Tatiana kept pushing Grace’s buttons but at the moment he needed to keep the Duchess at bay. He’d deal with his wife’s jealousy later.

Scanning the room, he found Ada, fucking finally! Now he needed to deal with a spoiled princess he thought unamused. As his sister charmed Grace about a fucking donation, he tried to convince Tatiana it was a bad idea to go to the factory, but she was stubborn and had certain urgency to fuck him. There was nothing more discouraging than a woman selling herself off.

He was done. Fucking done of everything; the economic league, the duchess, his wife’s lies. This woman was absolutely mad

But time stopped as the duchess told him the sapphire had been cursed by a Gypsy. His ears were ringing, a shiver ran down his spine. Tommy had lost his faith back in France, but if there was one thing he believe in was spirits and Gypsy curses.

Speechless, he reached his wife in a few long strides.

“We need to talk.” Waving his hands anxiously he pointed at Grace’s necklace. “Take it off.”

“No, why?” Grace hissed visibly pissed off. “Tommy you gave it to me. Why are you doing this? You want to give it to someone else?”

“Here we fucking go.” He scoffed bothered. “I don’t fucking care, you want me to say this in front of them? Fine, I’ll tell you what I just learned.”

Anger was boiling inside of him, he simply didn’t care anymore.

He couldn’t explain the real reasons behind his request. “You told me you stopped by the office earlier huh?” He glanced someone passing towards the grand salon for diner. “But you forgot to mention that afterwards you stopped by at a shoes shop, the last place where a woman like you would be, Grace.” Looking up at the ceiling he blew the air he had been holding. “You started a fire at that shoes shop and don’t even try to lie, because people saw you.”

Grace’s features contorted. “Yes, I did it… because you’re distant with me, I know you wanted to marry that shoe saleswoman.”

Tommy saw red. “Yeah, I was going to marry her and when she heard you were pregnant she took a step back, walked away from me. That’s the biggest and selfless act of love.”

That's why I can't love you in the dark

“And where would you be today if it wasn’t for me?” She asked with her jaw clenched.

“Right here with her giving a beautiful speech about kindness.”

“I’m glad she’s dead by now.” She attempted to walk away, but Tommy took her by the shoulders.

“You should be thankful sh-”

“I don’t care about anything related to her.” Grace replied.

“Well, you should.”

“And why would I care about her?”

“BECAUSE I CARE ABOUT HER!” He lost control, Polly turned her head around at the shouting. “MORNING, NOON, AND NIGHT… I CARE ABOUT HER.”

Grace walked backwards, looking down.

“You’re lucky she wasn’t at the shop, she’s alive and I’m going to find her after the gala is over.” Tommy admitted triumphantly.

A man stormed in his direction out of the blue.

“For Angel!” He shouted right before firing his weapon.

The gunshot echoed in every corner of the room.

In the middle of the chaos, Tommy noticed Grace’s body leaned against him harshly, there was blood everywhere and people screaming. Tommy fell to the floor by the impact and Grace’s weightless body.

He called for help, and ambulance, anyone but Grace was already gone…

Someone took her lifeless body away from him and he wasn’t able to react, he remained frozen on spot in a corner. Replaying the images over and over.

Y/N swallowed hard after debating the entire afternoon whether if you were doing the right thing or not, yet here you stood if front of the venue where the Shelby family was leading a gala to raise funds to help people in need. One of the many dreams Tommy had shared with you.

Once the fire was controlled and people started to leave, one of the blinders who helped your mother to come out of it unharmed to let you know it had been Tommy’s wife the one who caused it, not him.

And guilt had been eating you alive ever since.

You needed to apologize for all the terrible things you said to him. You didn’t hate him, said it out of anger.

“Y/N! Oh, there’s been a tragedy… Grace is dead.”

****

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I’m so happy the first part was so well accepted, hoping this following part will like you too… did you see that coming? If you have a few minutes, I’d LOVE to hear what you think!

Master list

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[bouncybongfairy]

hi could u pls do a jet atla smut where him and reader try to fuck quietly in the tent then in the morning the freedom fighters worry like 'did u hear weird sounds last night' - 'yeah i think it was a bear'

Inside Voices

Jett (ATLA) x Fem Reader Smut

Summary: You're having a hard time keeping it down while getting fucked by Jet in your tent.

Word Count: 1.0k+

TW: Rough Smut & Semi Public Sex

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

Jet was laying on his back, looking over at your space of the shared tent every once in a while. Trying to put all the past memories of you out of his mind. Admiring and missing how soft your skin is. That one sound you make when his thrusts pick up. You were laying on your back, it was hot so a thin layer of sweat covered your body. Your face was flushed slightly and your hair was all over the place. It was already parching so trying to calm down and ignore his erection was becoming increasingly harder. It wasn’t like this would be the first time ya’ll hooked up. Every now and again you’d find yourself in his bed.

Not really a romantic relationship but more of a friends with benefits situation. Taking your stress out on one another if you will. Not being able to resist temptation, he moves closer toward you. Kissing the skin above your shorts gently. Moving your shirt up slightly to peck your ribs and waist. He chuckles to himself as you cutely stir in your sleep. Tilting your neck to the side and stretching your body. He started kissing your neck, pressing his groin against you. That was what made you come to, smiling and wrapping your arms around his neck. He reached his hand down and pulled your shorts to the side. Pushing one of his fingers inside of you and spreading your wetness around your folds. 

“Fuck, always happy to see me yeah?” he rhetorically asks, continuing to massage your clit. 

You were gripping onto his shoulders, trying to keep your sounds to a minimum. Biting onto his shoulder as he started working his fingers inside you. He stops, not wanting to give you too much pleasure before earning it. Getting on his knees and pushing his boxers down, just enough to expose his length. 

“Flip over, on your stomach,” he said quietly, which you did without question. 

He pulls your shorts to the side, tracing your wet slit with his tip. Biting his lip to hold back a groan. He started fucking you with his head, you kept trying to push yourself back. Everytime you did he’d pull back, not enough to fully pull out but also not letting himself fuck deeper into you. He teased you like this for a while, to the point where you were expressing your frustration verbally. He leans down, pressing his back front against your back. Wrapping his arm around your head, forcing your mouth to be pressed into his elbow. Then fucking his length into you as hard as he could, pressing his lips against the top of your head. Holding you in place as you wiggled and squirmed, trying to adjust to him stretching you. 

“After all that whining and begging I'd think you’d be thanking me,” he giggled, moving his hips from left to right; enjoying the feeling of your hot walls squeezing around his member. 

He was in so much physical pleasure that his mind was in a euphoric state. Weird because he normally kept his feelings out of his head when fucking. He’s had sex with other girls but with them it was more of an exchange of pleasure but it was different with you. His entire brain was consumed by you, daydreaming about fucking his babies into you. Mindlessly rutting while imagining all the ways he could mark and claim you. As if he was trying to get closer than having your skin pressed against his. It was hot before he started destroying your pussy, now that the two of you were panting and working your bodies against one another the space was sweltering. Sweat was dripping off both of your bodies and neither of you cared about the wet slapping noises your bodies were causing. 

“ mine-mine-mine,” he quietly growled into your ear everytime he pounded into you. At this point you were a fucked out pile of need, not giving a fuck about your moans or who was around. Legs shaking and trying to buck your ass up to meet his thrusts. 

“Shut the fuck up or I swear to fucking god i’ll stop,” he said, slowing down his rhythm to a stop. Instead of trying to protest, you figured the fastest way to get what you want is to follow instructions. 

“Good fucking slut,” he growled before picking back up, faster than he was doing before. 

Your walls were beyond sensitive and raw, biting down on his flesh trying to shut the fuck up. He was muttering random possessive words like ‘owned’ and ‘mine’ as his thrust became erratic. Becoming less and less comprehensive as he neared his orgasm. Feeling your body go limp as your walls start to pulsate and convulse around his throbbing member while you cum make him go crazy. Immediately sending him over the edge. His brain rotted and dissolved into pleasure as he pumped you full of cum. Loving the fact that he was marking you in more ways than just bites and hickeys. Leaving himself buried inside you while catching your breath.

Almost falling asleep like this before he pulled out. Steadying himself on his knees and spreading your ass to watch his cum slide out of you. Using his finger to push some of it back in, amused by your squirming from sensitivity. He takes off his tank top and uses it to wipe you down before falling asleep next to you. The next morning, the two of you woke up and got ready like nothing happened. You tried to hide the smirk on your face when getting dressed; picking out an outfit that hid the love bites on your shoulder. Jet noticed this and kissed you on the cheek before greeting everyone outside. 

“Did anyone hear all the growling last night? I was making me nervous,” Sokka said. 

“Yeah I did too, must have been a bear,” Jett said which seemed to satisfy the group like he did you last night. 

[gothamite-rambler]

Jason has to make a mighty sacrifice to save Bruce.

Context: Typical fight with Bane, Batman wasn't prepared. Jason decided to save him. The duo are on better terms and Jason is even liked by Bane, but it's Bane.... It's Bane.

Jason: Can I have my dad back?

Bane: No.

Jason (exasperated): Come on, man.

Bane: I don't hate you, Jason; I hate him with a burning passion. I can't let him leave.

Batman lay bruised on the ground, suffering from broken ribs, a black eye, and with his leg bent at a disturbing angle that no sane person should ever witness.

Bruce (coughing, wincing): If you just give me a minute, I can still take him down.

Jason leaned past the hulking Bane, taking in Bruce's pain and twitching on the ground. He let out a heavy sigh, thankful that his helmet concealed his growing frustration.

Jason: I get it, Bane. You’ve got a laundry list of issues with this guy, many I could see us agreeing on. But he’s technically my father, so I sort of have to save him—family and all that crap.

Bane: While I admire your attempt to patch things up with the old man, I can’t just let him waltz away…

Bane extended his hand, and Jason groaned, already dreading where this was heading.

Bane (cunningly): Without some sort of compensation?

Jason: What’s the minimum amount of money I can throw your way?

Batman (weakly): For the love of God, don’t give him any money! I’d rather die—

Jason (shouting): Batman, shut the hell up and wince quietly for once!

Bane: Continuing our bargaining, I'm not sure monetary compensation will suffice. What else you got young man?

Jason sighed, yanked off his backpack, and unzipped it, desperately searching for something to offer. He really just wanted to talk some sense into the overly muscled foe, not trade his stuff to save Bruce.

Jason: The fact I'm doing this proves I'm selfless— Want a gun? I have like three... on safety I think.

Bane (shaking his head): I’m not a gun guy; I prefer to use my fists.

Jason: Fair enough. How about chocolate bars? I’ve got five in here.

Bane (dismissively): I’m on a diet.

Jason fished out the current book he was reading, a "Bridgerton" series book. He was sure Bane wouldn’t want that, and he definitely wasn’t planning to trade it—until the villain snatched it right out of his hands.

Jason (alarmed): Hey, that's mine!

Bane: I’ve never read this Bridgerton book.

Batman (twitching in agony): Bridgerton?! Oh, god, that hurt. Why did I yell?

Jason sighed, conflicted about parting with his precious book.

Bane: A man of culture, I see. Penelope is quite the captivating character.

Jason (a hand on his helmet, covering his eyes): Yeah, she's a gem, and that was a collector’s edition I paid a pretty penny for!

Bane: I can tell—signed and everything.

Jason (defeated): Yep. If you let him go... You can keep it.

Bane (nodding with a thumbs-up): Deal. Pleasure doing business.

Bane strolled off with the book, whistling happily. Jason clenched his fists and slapped his hands together, too furious to find words for a few moments.

Jason: That was the collector's edition! I waited three months for that, and now it’s gone! This is what happens when I try to save this man. Batman, get your ass up so we can bail!

Batman: Uh, funny story… I wasn’t going to let Bane see this, but he seriously messed up my leg. I can’t even stand on it.

Jason groaned, facepalming. He shook his head, regretting his decision to come to Bruce’s rescue tonight. With a mix of annoyance and sympathy, he trudged over, muttering curses under his breath, then he hoisted the cape crusader's good leg and dragged him toward his car.

Jason: You’re buying me that book. Same edition, and don’t act like you don’t have the cash for it!

Batman (trying to lighten the mood): That seems fair… So, what’s Penelope like in the books?

Jason: Bruce, really not in the mood right now.

[queenshelby]

Our Little Secret (Part 67)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Infidelity, Age-Gap, Triggers, Smut

After you left, Cillian had to continue working for the rest of the afternoon, which included shooting two scenes with Annabelle who, after all that, behaved professionally during the entire day, keeping her interaction with Cillian outside the scenes to the bare minimum.

Whether she got the message or not was, however, unclear when, just as Cillian was about to head back to his unit,  Annabelle stopped him.

"Cillian," she called, her voice a little emotional. "Just wait a minute," she said, gesturing for him to step into a more private location, away from the hustle and bustle of the set.

Cillian sighed before nodding and following her, wondering what could possibly be so urgent that she needed to talk to him privately.

"Look, I don't want to stand between you and Y/N in any way, but I feel as though she does not like me and I wonder whether, maybe, you told her that...,"  Annabelle said softly, her voice hesitant and uncertain.

Cillian sighed heavily, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. "I did not," Cillian interrupted her before she could even speak the words. "And I would prefer if you did not either," he then told Annabelle, who sighed.

"Cillian, we already agreed that we would keep it a secret, and I do stand by my word. I just wasn't sure whether you told her that we had a fling in the past. I guess I just wanted to clear the air a bit," she said, trying to let him understand why she was reacting. 

"Like I said, I didn't tell her," Cillian reiterated, shaking his head. "And she does not dislike you, Anabelle. Y/N and I have had our struggles as you know, and she is just being cautious. That's all," he suggested, thinking back to how protective and untrusting you had been ever since he cheated on you.

"Well, you cheated on her, so I don't blame her," Annabelle then chuckled, her eyes filling with sympathy.

Cillian's eyes narrowed, bristling at the implication of her words. "And neither do I, but that's all in the past now. I made a mistake, and I have no intention of repeating it, so let's just let be, alright?" he responded  , trying to keep his frustration in check.

Annabelle nodded, holding her hands up in surrender. "Okay. I am cool with that," she said sincerely before preparing herself to leave. "I just wanted to make sure that you didn't tell her because, if she tells anyone else that we slept together, it could really screw up my career," she explained, still sounding a little flustered.

Cillian simply nodded in response, knowing that Annabelle had a valid concern. "I got to go now and see Mara before she goes to sleep,"  Cillian finally said, glancing at his watch.

"Alright, go and be with your family," Annabelle replied kindly but with a wry smile before parting ways with him and Cillian smiled back and then walked away.

When Cillian arrived at the apartment, he was met with the sound of laughter and the scent of something delicious wafting in the air. 

"Hey," Cillian said, walking into the kitchen and wrapping his arms around you from behind.

"Hi," you replied, smiling warmly at him over your shoulder before standing up on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek.

He leaned down to kiss you properly, making you blush as Mara came running towards the both of you. 

"No kissies," she  cried, playfully pushing herself between you two.

Cillian laughed and picked Mara up.

"But I love giving mama kissies," he then chuckled before pressing a kiss on to Mara's cheek as well, causing her to giggle even more.

Cillian then put Mara back on to the floor as you continued dinner preparation.

After a little while, you took a break from cooking and poured yourself and Cillian some drinks, before settling down on the sofa, Mara crawling onto your lap and snuggling into you.

"You know what?"  you asked, looking at Cillian with a small smile playing on your lips.

"What?" Cillian asked, turning his gaze on you, a soft smile playing on his lips also.

"I am glad that we got back together. It's so nice being a proper family,"  you said, your voice filled with emotion as you looked at Mara, who was now playing with a toy on the floor.

Cillian nodded, his gaze never leaving yours. "It really is," he agreed, reaching out to take your hand in his. "I'm sorry for everything that happened in the past. I never meant to hurt you or Mara."

You smiled softly at him, squeezing his hand reassuringly. "I know that. And I forgive you," you told him sincerely. "But I want to make one thing clear Cillian. I won't ever forget being hurt like this, and if you slip up again, I won't hesitate to leave and find someone who can treat me right. I won't put up with dishonesty or infidelity."

Cillian nodded, understanding the seriousness and determination in your tone. "Y/N, I  would never do this again. I promise," Cillian added, looking into your eyes so deeply that you could see the sincerity and regret etched across his face.

You looked into his eyes, searching for any sign that he might be lying, but you saw none. Cillian had always had a way of convincing you with just his eyes, and now as he held your hand tightly, you felt a warm wave of emotions wash over you.

"Good," you eventually nodded, feeling reassured. "Let's eat then," you then suggested as you felt your stomach rumble, realizing that you had not eaten anything since breakfast. Cillian nodded, and he watched as you got up from the sofa and walked over to the kitchen.

Tags:

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[jester089]

If it’s ok, can you indulge my love for The Amazing Digital Circus?

I was just thinking of the gang with an s/o who’s seen as the rock of the group that is always strong willed, happy go luck, helpful and supportive. But they stumble upon their s/o just having an episode where they’re crying in frustration and punching a wall to calm down before going back to pretending like nothing happened?

I have a thing for strong willed characters hiding their perceived weakness from others.

Be strong for them

Thanks for the request! I feel for this type of character a lot. Now you didn't specify if you wanted the whole crew and you being the s/o of one. Or individual. So I'll do individual so that whoever your fav is their'll be something for them. Except Bubble though cause I just can't come up with stuff for them, sry.

Caine

Despite being an AI who doesn't really understand humans I feel he would notice your inner turmoil. He kind of has too! Cause he has to watch for and know if someone is going to abstract. Moving on he appreciates you being strong willed and a joy to be around seeing as how it makes others stick around longer. You can't have a circus without performers after all. Caine being how he is he would most likely just appear in your room while your having a breakdown multiple times because he wants something from you not even noticing you having trouble mentally. Only time he would really notice is if you were at the apex of that breakdown when he showed up. I can 100% see him just floating a few feet away from you one eyebrow raised for a minute with worried eyes before he asked if you were ok. If you said yes, despite what he think's he'll believe you. First few times. If you say no and seem to be looking for some comfort he'll do his best but he isn't exactly good at that kind of thing. More likely then not he wont really touch you but he'll give some words of encouragement and probably ask if their is anything you want (except a way out of the digital realm.) And whatever you ask for you'll have in an instant. But their is a limit. He can't be spoiling you now. He still needs your input on things and giving gifts wont be special anymore if you get whatever you want whenever you want. And after doing the bare minimum and seeing you bounce back and be how you always are he'll assume that what he did worked perfectly and your fine now. He's a little dense I'll be honest. 2.5/10 comfort

Gangle

Now Gangle isn't exactly good with emotions. She has tons sure. But handling them is another story. But you being there and always seemingly in a good mood nothing really affecting you will help her keep calm. I mean just having an anchor can make stuff you usually can't deal with seem small. (Especially if you stick up to Jax for her. Or better yet get her confident enough to do it herself.) When she walked in on you having a breakdown first thing her mind would go to is that your on the verge abstracting which causes her to panic and make the whole thing worse. She doesn't try to it's just a lot all at once. Especially considering how you don't usually show this kind of stuff. Now once the initial shock has worn off and at least she has calmed down some she'll be pretty good at helping you calm down. I mean she's a cinnamon roll. Even if her ways of comfort don't work well just knowing she's trying will definitely help. Now if you cope with more self destructive ways she'll be more worried but try her best to trust you. Though that doesn't mean she'll just let you punch things, especially things that could hurt you (I've punched a few walls in my time and I can safely say it hurts.) Now when you just snap back to how you usually are nothing expect the red eyes and dried tear streams on your face will cause a whole load of more worry in her. How long has this been going on?! Are you ok?! Can she do anything?! DO YOU STILL LOVE HER!?! If you don't accept her help she'll probably start to spiral and take that as you don't trust her enough or you don't think she can help you. So for her sake, and yours let her help. Cause if you do that'll lead to a whole lot of trust and make a very sturdy base for your relationship. It'll also help her get better with emotions as a whole. She wishes she could do more for you but she can and will do what she can with what she has. 8/10 comfort

Zooble

Oof. This probably isn't going to end well. It's basically like a angsty teen trying to comfort someone they care about. Zooble probably acts like she hates how happy and upbeat you are. But she doesn't. When she's laying in bed not wanting to get up the thought of going on an adventure and watching you be dumb on purpose makes her smile and get up. Sure every day is the same in the circus, but with you there it's a nice version of repetitiveness. Now Zooble has a lot of problems. Everyone in the circus does. But if she walked in on your having a breakdown I feel like she would honestly just turn around and leave. Not because she doesn't care. But because she feels she'll make it worse if she stays. Every 5 minutes or so she'll poke her head back in your room to see how your doing. Probably accompanied with a quiet "You uhhh. You doing ok?" if your still crying. Now if she peaked her head in and you were back to normal she might honestly think she hallucinated you crying like that. But their are some things you can't hide. Like puffy eyes or how your voice is a little wavy from crying. So knowing even less what to do now she'll just join you in your room and sit on your bed hoping that just her being around will be enough. Now if you break down again and start venting about what is worrying you she'll sit there and listen intently. If not she'll think that your still not doing ok but she doesn't really know how to bring that out. Or help with it. Overall her comfort is a little lacking but she's trying her best. 4.5/10 comfort

Kinger

Now I headcannon that Kinger is really, really, REALLY good at comfort. I mean did you see the impenetrable fortresses door, and how it was being held up. I don't think a single person ever who is good at making pillow forts is bad at comfort. I feel like overall he would be pretty indifferent to you being all happy though he would appreciate the supportive vibe you bring. He's crazy, I'll just be honest about that. But he seems to be surprisingly resilient as he never gets worse, or better. He just is. When he walks in on you freaking out he doesn't flinch or is surprised. He's been in the digital circus a long time. And he's lost many. He understands why. So he just calmly walks in gives you a light hug No idea how. He doesn't have arms. and a quick forehead kiss. He sits you two down on the floor and makes a little pillow wall around you two. Then he (in a surprisingly calm voice) asks what's troubling you. Now you don't exactly have a choice of if you do or don't tell him. He's lost to many to just leave you on your own in this. So he'll sit there a hand resting on your knee while you mentally prepare yourself. Out of everyone he's the most likely to genuinely and long term help you calm down. He's seen many things, been through many things. No matter what it is that's worrying you it wont surprise him and he can probably help. 10/10 comfort

Ragatha

Well aren't you two just the perfect duo Ragtha is pretty mentally drained having the always be the one that everyone rely on. She was the only anchor for this place the only one keeping everyone spirits high. Then you showed up and made the work 50/50. That's what initially made you catch her eye. You two have enough infection happiness and good vibes to make just about anyone have a good day. Though their are diminishing returns the digital circus wouldn't be the same without you two. When she walks in on your falling apart she reacts two ways. One she also starts freaking out (Just instinct at this point. I mean you saw her in the pilot, every time Pomni started breaking down she interrupted it.) And two a whole lot of understanding on where your coming from. She sits down with you and lets your get it all out before speaking. She asks if your ok, if she can do anything, and what caused it. Once you explain that it's just all so much. The circus, having to be strong for everyone else. It puts so much pressure on you. On hearing that Ragatha breaks into tears flipping the comfort giver and receiver. Once she has gotten most of it out and can make comprehensible sentences again she explains how she's going through the same. On hearing that you feel really bad. You've only been here what a year and your already breaking down over it. But you've always had Ragatha there to lighten the load. But she's been here so much longer doing the exact same but without anyone else to help her. So you make it a kind of personal mission from then on to not make your problems hers and help her out when and wherever you can. -3/10 Comfort. She just had a lot of stuff bottled up and ended up making you worry about even more.

Jax

Jax's first thought would probably be "Oh great, another Ragatha to deal with." But something about you isn't as annoying to him as Ragatha. He actually enjoys and appreciates all that you do for him. And the others too I guess. Now be warned Jax deals with a lot of stuff with humor. And his sense of humor is putting others through anguish mental, emotional, and physical. So when he first finds you crying will most likely make a joke about you being a cry baby or "So you finally broke huh? I always wondered how long it would take" making you feel much worse about it. When if he notices that he'll feel bad and stop maybe. He'll more likely then not just exist in your room, leaning against a wall or grabbing random items off of shelves/your desk to fiddle with. Now when you snap back to how you usually are I really feel like he'll just be like "Oh cool. You fine. Well I'm gonna go get some food." then leave you alone with your thoughts. (I'm sorry to all you Jax fans it's just I don't go for looks like most do. I'm entirely attracted to personality. And Jax's isn't great. I mean Gooseworx confirmed that he isn't like nice deep down. He's just an a$&hole. So if Jax is your fav my Tumblr ain't for you.) 0/10

Pomni

You and Ragatha keep Pomni in one piece. (I mean if Ragatha wasn't in the pilot I feel like Pomni would already be abstracted.) So she kind of clings to you. Not physically but she would fall apart pretty quickly without you there. So when you asked her to grab something for you she did without a second thought. But she wasn't expecting to come back to hearing crying followed by a loud thump in your room. She sprints over and throws the door open only for you to be completely ok and sitting at your desk. You thank her for grabbing it for you then go back to what you were doing making her think she's gone of the deep end and is hearing things. But then it happens again, and again. Leading her to believe your just hiding something from her. So next time it happens she sneaks up to your door and carefully peaks inside only to see your tugging at your hair tears streaming down your face. You punch the wall making her jump and make some noise. Your eyes lock onto the small crack in between the door and the frame you two locking eyes. She blushes heavily then slowly opens the door basically admitting to eavesdropping. She was just worried is all. You quickly clean yourself up and apologize for having her see you like that only causing her to worry more. She doesn't push it knowing from experience how that feels but from that day on she tries to not put as much pressure on you. And makes an effort to return the favor when she can. 4.5/10 comfort (I sincerely enjoyed writing this. Cause I am also a sucker for that kind of character. Hope you enjoyed it!)

xoxo, Jester

[grimesgirll]

hands bound behind your back, you don’t know why you thought you could get away with trying to poison negan.

“you ready to apologize yet?”

you haven’t said a word to negan since he plucked you out of your house after discovering your plot, blindfolding you, tying your hands behind your back, and fucking deporting you to the sanctuary for an indefinite period of time. yeah, you’re not wasting your breath on an apology.

the salt and pepper haired man doesn’t break eye contact with you. it’s a shame. you’d never say it out loud but negan's pretty attractive.

“darlin’, you almost took me out. with a fucking quiche!"

lips poised in a permanent frown, you stay silent. negan's not having this.

he draws a breath, drumming his fingers on the metal table. "silent act. expected that." he reaches under the table to yield that damn baseball bat. "you remember lucille, right?" you give the bare minimum of a nod when he barks your name. "you also remember putting anthrax powder in a quiche and serving it up to me, huh?"

your stare hardens. you really hadn't expected to get caught - hadn't expected that you'd be in this position in your wildest dreams. all because you wanted your freedom back.

"i gotta ask, where did you get the anthrax? that shit is hard to come by."

like i'd tell you, you snark in your head. this was not the time to relay the story of how you'd snuck out of alexandria for a night to hoof it up to a government building complex and scour the shelves of their lab for whatever sinister bioweapons had been left behind once the dead started walking.

"because if that was you, that would make you an extremely valuable asset.” his hand lands on lucille again. "i wouldn't mind having someone around to procure hard to find things like that for me.”

you give him another blank stare. why the fuck would you come to live and procure for the sanctuary? who does he think you are? the flair of your frustration is saved once again by your taciturn lips.

before you know it lucille is below your chin and you’re tilting your head back.

“what the fuck, negan?” you mumble, doing your best to stay still with the bloodstained bat in front of you.

“there we go,” he croons, hazel eyes demanding eye contact. “knew lucille could get you talkin’. girl to girl.”

you roll your eyes. “you caught me, negan. i’m not here to talk.”

“you wanna make me dinner every night, don’t ya’?”

you go tight lipped again.

“well, fat chance. i don’t trust your cooking anymore - no matter how delicious that quiche looked.”

exhaling, you squirm in your restraints. his antics are already tearing at your paper thin patience when he asks, “so, how are you gonna make it up to me, sweetheart?”

“send me home.” you plead. “i’ll go on supply runs for whatever you need - just don’t keep me here.”

“no, i want you here with me.” negan expresses, muscles tensing through his jacket. he drops lucille to the side. “you know, i think you’ll be a lot more useful here.”

you shake your head, confused as he leans down to begin undoing your restraints. “i don’t know how i could be here.”

a grin graces his lips. “don’t worry, doll, i know.”

your eyes widen at the implication when he adjusts his pants and the vitriol is coming back up again like word vomit.

“i wouldn’t touch you with a ten foot pole, negan.”

you don’t expect him to burst into laughter.

“don’t lie to me, you’re not very good at it. i can tell you that.”

your face twists with a mixture of embarrassment and disgust. you’re disgusted with yourself for the eye contact you’re making with his groin.

“oh, i know you wanna, darlin’, don’t be shy.”

the binds that tied you to the chair fall away. you rub your wrists and observe as negan stalks across the room to the bed of all places. he sits on the plush mattress, legs spread.

“it’s up to you.” he shrugs. “you can deny yourself and stay in that chair and i can call for someone to take you down to the cells or….,”

all negan does is snicker when you begin working off his belt.

“i knew you would be a good girl for me,” negan confirms with a gentle hand guiding the back of your head as you take him into your hand and envelope him into your mouth.

filthy noises fill the air as negan takes his time fucking your mouth. at first he let you go at your own pace, lick up and down, devote time to the nerve endings at the tip of his cock, but one accidental gag from you and suddenly your nose is flush against his pelvis.

“yeah, baby, fuck i knew that mouth could do great things.”

you can only gag in response around him, doing your best to swallow and fight the burn but negan isn’t doing you any favors. he rolls his hips into your face, savoring the pure bliss that is your mouth.

“love seein’ those perfect fucking lips wrapped around my cock. wanted to see you like this from the first moment i saw you.” negan breathes with a hand dug into your hair.

his words shouldn’t be turning you on - not in the slightest. however, you start to feel a tingle beneath you and a pressure in your core. it doesn’t fade as you keep your jaw slack enough for the man to almost send his cock down your throat.

his thick length is cutting off your airway but for some reason your pussy is growing slicker beneath you. despite fighting off the coughing and trying to fit as much of negan’s larger - and girthier - dick into your mouth, you’re getting turned on by this farce.

you finally get into a rhythm and that’s when negan decides it’s time for the next course.

“‘kay, enough of that,” negan declares as he lets you up off of him.

before you know it, you’re sandwiched beside him on the plush, soft bed. you don’t have time to appreciate the satin pillowcase beneath your head because negan is yanking at your pant legs. “gotta get these off,” and soon he’s scraping down your panties. negan is on his elbows next to you and toying with your entrance when you squeeze your eyes shut.

you gasp when a finger’s inserted into you, then another with no warning.

“shit, baby. can’t believe you’re clenchin’ around just my fingers, babe.” negan remarks and curls his two digits, relishing in the way your face contorts at his every movement.

his firm fingers delve deeper into you, taking advantage of your exhales. every movement further screws you open and each wet noise paints your face an even deeper shade of red. the notion of caring gets lost when negan begins to play with your clit.

“gettin’ a lady boner, are ya’?” negan is sure to pay extra close attention to your sensitive nub. the pads of his fingers are instrumental in bringing on the wave of pleasure that overtakes you as you feel yourself let go in negan’s arms.

you’re so wrapped up in your orgasm that you barely notice his dick growing rock hard again between you.

your hands are on his chest, not banging against him like you should be but holding on for dear life as he edges his cock closer to your entrance. the breath leaves your chest when he begins to replace his fingers with his thick cock.

“negan!”

“oh, aren’t you a tight little thing.”

despite you being so “tight”, you still felt like you were being stretched out - no, impaled on his cock and he’s only a few inches in yet.

“you got a boyfriend, baby? not that it matters,” negan questions with an amused look as you struggle to contain your composure between him and his cock bullying into you.

“no,” you croak.

“good.” negan utters the word with a thrust. “couldn’t imagine sharin’ this pussy. not that i’d have to.”

you let out a tiny yelp and your breathing accelerates as he pushes in another inch further. it’s out of your control when he drives the rest of him into you and desperate for any kind of stability, you clutch at negan, not just with your hands on his broad shoulders.

“fuck! pussy feels like it was made for me, babe.”

if you were clearheaded, you would be mortified by the situation, but as long as negan resolves the pressure building up in your core again, he could tell you the two of you are moving to mars for all you care.

“please, negan.”

“what was that?”

“please!” you repeat and plead, over and over until his hips are flush with yours.

an accidental brush of his heavy head against your cervix has you whimpering into negan’s mouth when he takes a break from massaging your breast to kiss you. the heat is everywhere — it’s in your mouth, negan’s mouth, your core, all over.

“fuck, did you just come?”

you simply bury your face into his shoulder. thoughts fucked away, you struggle to register much else besides the mess you’ve made between your thighs.

“yeah, baby, you’re too horny not to have been thinking about this the entire ride here.”

your face lights up with shame - he‘s right. negan had wormed his way into your thoughts like a prion into your brain. every night since the handsome psycho first came around to collect your mattresses and firearms, you’d found yourself wishing he’d return your mattress to you personally just to fuck you into it.

“ugh, gonna have this sweet little pussy molded into the shape of my cock,” negan’s declaring between heavy swats to your rear.

“fuck,” you’re stuttering. “slow down!”

“how? this pussy’s just sucking me in.” negan exclaims, punctuating his words with another spank.

you’re white knuckling the bedsheets as your newest enemy pounds the thoughts out of you. you can’t even try to factor this encounter into your escape plan. the only thing on your mind should be the best way to manipulate the man jackhammering into you right now. but you can’t help but be affected by just how deep inside of you negan is; how he’s squeezing every filthy dumb whore noise out of you and hitting every nerve ending you have down there.

you guess this is better than your community being terrorized. maybe you can convince negan to give everyone their mattresses back.

glimpsing at him, negan is in ecstasy being balls deep in you right now.

and you’re no better.

disappearing in plain sight, you’re getting fucked from the inside out and being tipped into your third orgasm of the night. guilty pleasure coursing through you as you feel boneless. even more so when you feel a warmth pouring into you. barely recognizing the desperate whines that come out of you, you’re shifting your hips to meet his as negan fucks you through both of your orgasms.

coming back to earth, you gulp when you realize that he’s come inside of you. he has to be humane enough to allow you a plan b pill or something; this place is sordid enough, you know they have a stash pile of contraceptives somewhere.

the man slips out of you, spent after fucking your overloaded pussy senseless.

“want a cigarette? i think you deserve one after that.”

you glare at him. “no. i want to go back to alexandria and for you and your goons to fuck off.”

his hairy chest rises with laughter. he reaches for a pack of menthols and a lighter on the nightstand. “doll, you think you’re goin’ somewhere?” he shakes his salt and peppered head. “you and your people are gonna produce for me. got it?”

close lipped, you return his cocky grin with a death glare and crossed arms over your chest.

that doesn’t last long.

the man entraps you in his arms, wrapping them around you and bundling you up to his chest. he starts to ruffle your hair. “i really think you’re gonna wanna stay here.”

“fat chance, negan.”

“oh, honey,” he croons. “i’m not gonna give you a choice.” he whistles. “your grade a piece of ass isn’t walkin’ out of these gates anytime soon.”

[sashaisready]

This Must Be The Place: Chapter 12 - I love the passing of time

Biker!Bucky x Femme Reader

Back at your beloved late grandmother's home to pack up her house, you have a run-in with the town's biker gang 'The Howling Commandos' and find yourself entangled with the metal armed President.

Series Masterlist

Warnings: None...I don't think

“Wow…so he just accused you in front of everybody?” Peter Quill asked you in disbelief, sipping his coffee as you caught him up on the mess that was your life.

You nodded and stiffly sipped your own drink, “Mmm…he tried to come by later and apologise, but I wasn’t exactly open to a discussion”.

Peter nodded sympathetically, giving you an understanding smile, “Yeah…I can see why”.

You smiled back, well, more of a grimace really, doing your best to keep your mind from wandering to Bucky.

“Sooo…you’re unemployed,” he offered in a slightly playful tone, but tentatively as if he was still feeling out your sensitivity levels around this subject.

You laughed into your coffee cup, grateful for the levity, “sure am…now I just watch daytime TV and hang out at the supermarket all day like a bum”.

The two of you chuckled and you asked him how work was going at the plant. As he told you an anecdote about one of his workmate’s antics, Drax or somebody? You found yourself comfortable…relaxed. Being with Peter didn’t really need you to be ‘on’, you didn’t need to try and suss out what he was thinking or where you stood like you did with Bucky, it was just nice.

The two of you had been texting for a week or so, ever since that night you’d first messaged him after you’d (figuratively and literally) closed the door on Bucky. You’d quickly found a fun rhythm with him over text, a balance of jokes and getting to know each other with the occasional meme thrown in. After losing your job and your ‘situationship’, you were grateful for the distraction. It was also a nice thing to break up your work with back at the house.

Eventually, he’d asked you to go for coffee in town, and it was so lovely to go on an actual date rather than just to each other’s houses under the cover of night. Coffee was a great choice, it was low stakes and informal, it meant you could have a conversation and get to know each other better without the pressures of a fancy dinner or sitting in silence at the movies. Fun and relaxed, just like Peter himself.

Bucky had blown up your phone for the first few days, asking you to hear him out…asking you to just let him talk…you’d ignored him entirely. He even set a bouquet of flowers to your door, which you’d rolled your eyes at and given to your elderly neighbour. You’d also pocketed the cash and thrown out the note he’d slid under the door. You didn’t need a reminder of him at the house, too. He’d wormed his way into your thoughts often enough already, despite your best efforts to forget him entirely.

You hated him for what he’d done, but the fact was you held strong feelings for him (the strongest!) right before that happened, and you couldn’t magically switch them all off even if he did hurt you. A dormant part of you still felt something, as frustrating as that was. You wished you could press a button that would erase it all and allow you to hate him in peace, but you couldn’t. So, next best thing - you were going to give him a wide berth, get on with the house jobs and hang out with Peter until it was time to leave.

You sent Bucky a brief text asking him to leave you be and respect your wishes, and he finally did – the bare minimum, but he did. You hadn’t heard anything from him since. Long may it continue.

Steve had also sent you a very no-nonsense text apologising for ‘how your employment ended’ and said that the position was always open if you changed your mind. You politely declined and he sent you back a thumbs up emoji, which was a big deal for Steve who famously didn’t do emojis – it might as well have been a heart.

Nat, Parker and a few of the others had also reached out, expressing regret for how things went down and that you left. They were a sweet bunch underneath all that leather and scowling. Your heart panged a little at their words, you really did like being there with them, it was a shame it blew up so spectacularly.

Wanda and Vis had been there for you, enthusiastically inviting you along to their date nights and stuff with their other friends, not wanting you to spend your evenings rattling around in a dead woman’s home by yourself. It was appreciated, but you didn’t love playing third wheel at a romantic dinner.

Now you weren’t banging your evenings away with Bucky - the house was taking shape. You’d dropped off the cash donation to the shelter, plus moved out a whole bunch more stuff. You had a steady stream of strangers coming to collect old furniture and junk (‘treasures’ as Granny called them, which just thinking about made you feel guilty) from the ads you’d posted on various Facebrook groups and Craigslist. And you’d kept anything truly sentimental, of course. You still hadn’t done the damn fence, but the room painting was almost done. You just needed to do that, or pay someone else to, plus fix the slightly leaky faucet in the bathroom you’d always moaned to Bucky about.

“…and that’s when we realised it was Monday, not Tuesday, that the shipment was delivered”, laughed Peter as the end of his story snapped you back into the room.

You chuckled good-naturedly and took the last sip of your drink before Peter pointed at your empty cup, “Another? I’ve got a real hankering for a muffin or something…”

You smiled and nodded as he went to the register to get you both another round. As you were left by yourself, you mindlessly picked up your phone and began scrolling when a voice behind you called your name.

You turned, horrified to come face to face with…Tom.

Tom, who stood in front of you, his head lowered like a wounded puppy.

Tom, who had screwed you over and lost you your job.

Tom…who was sporting a painful looking black eye…and bruising all over his cheek.

“Tom, what the-”, you bristled.

“I’m sorry,” he interrupted, his voice panicked and urgent, “I’m so sorry. I was just passing and saw you in the window and had to…just…Fuck. It was so shitty. I never should’ve done it. I just…I needed the cash for my buddy and Bucky had already given me a couple’a loans and-”

Your initial wave of anger was quelled. He was just so…meek and lost. You just pitied him in that moment.

“I did it without really thinking”, he sighed, a little calmer now. “I knew that security camera was out. If I’d known they would’ve gone after you I never would’ve done it. I promise. I thought they’d just think they messed up the count, or assume I fucked up some orders. I’m so sorry”.

You sighed sadly. “What’s going on, Tom? Why did you need it for your buddy?”

He looked away, the guilt evident in his eyes. “I…sorta…I have a few issues with gambling. Alright?” he looked ashamed.  “And I actually felt so bad after, I came back. After all they’d done for me…and for me to do that to them…so I drove back to the bar, ready to return it all – but you’d left and they’d already figured it out after I got there…and they were so mad…”

You nodded with quiet understanding. He didn’t need a lecture from you, there was nothing you could tell him he hadn’t already told himself. And it looked like Bucky and Steve had told him too…

“It’s okay, Tom”, you told him, “What you did was fucked up…but it’s not your fault Bucky accused me, and that stuff turned out the way it did. That’s on him and only him”.

He nodded meekly, repeating that he was sorry as he awkwardly fiddled with his hands.

“I’m sorry…about your face,” you grimaced.

He shrugged. “It’s cool. Really. It wasn’t that bad. I stole, I deserved what I got. I was a traitor. But after Bucky calmed down…he listened. He sat down with me and told me to tell him everything. And I did…I admitted it all. What I did. My…uh…problem. And he and Steve are gonna get me straight, pay to get me some real help. Help me with my debts and support me to beat this thing once and for all”, his face looked hopeful.

You nodded encouragingly. You were mad at Bucky and Steve for hurting him, even though you knew that’s how things were duked out in their world. He was just a dumb kid who made a dumber mistake, who had gotten himself into a deep hole. But you couldn’t deny your surprise about getting him professional help. That was…surprisingly decent of them.

“Well…best of luck,” you smiled as you gave his hand a squeeze, “I hope you find what you need. And no hard feelings between us, okay?”

Tom grinned and nodded. He was alright, really.

“Hey I got you a biscotti…oh hey, sorry, who are-” said Peter, eyeing Tom as he walked back to the table with the tray of drinks in his hands.

“This is Tom, I used to work with him at the bar. See you, Tom”.

Tom nodded at Peter and gave you a wave as he left. You shared a small smile as he walked out of the coffee shop.

“All good?” asked Peter as he unloaded the cups and plates from the tray.

“All good,” you grinned. “And thank-you…I love biscotti. It’s like a fancy cookie”.

You both laughed, and just like that, Tom and Bucky and the bar and everything else floated away.

*

Some time later, after most likely too much caffeine and sugar, you were giggling with Peter as you walked out of the coffee shop and down the street.

“That was a lot of fun, thank you,” you said.

He smiled, “Yeah, I had fun too. Can I walk you back to your car?”

You nodded – pointing towards the street where you’d parked up.

As the two of you walked together, Peter very smoothly took his hand in yours. It gave you a burst of butterflies, and a twinge of melancholy that Bucky had never acknowledged your relationship publicly by doing something like that.

As you reached Sally you turned to Peter, “This is me”.

He smiled and very gently pulled you towards him. Before you knew it, he gently cupped your chin in his hand and pulled your lips towards his. The kiss was chaste, sweet. You kissed him back, unable to hide the smile that was trying to break out.

He pulled away and smiled as he looked down at you, opening your driver’s door for you. “Dinner, next time?”

You beamed, “Absolutely”.

*

Across the street, unseen by anyone else, a tall and blond figure watched the two of you with interest as he leaned against a shopfront window.

“Hm…” he muttered, pulling out his phone.

[binart]

Space Ranger Partner's Adventures Chapter 2

(content warning for non-explicit but VERY thirsty Lance this chapter 🤣🥰✨)

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—

Lance was awake well before Keith knocked on their connected door.

Pulled from a dreamless night of sleep, thankfully. Somewhere in between agonizing over everything he said and did around Keith the previous day to pouring over the details from their mission, he eventually slipped into peaceful darkness. He'd also gone to bed without doing his usual skincare routine, or even having his nighttime juniberry tea, so Lance woke up feeling like a desert in every sense of the word.

There was discomfort, laying there. His tongue felt like a gross carpet in his mouth, and he could practically feel the wrinkles pulling at the sides of his mouth. His muscles no longer ached, of course, since even though being part Altean was a curse, it was a curse with plenty of benefits. And yet Lance struggled to find the motivation to lift himself up. He turned his head to look over at the closed bathroom door. Toothbrush. Cleanser. Toner. Moisturizer. Everything felt so far away despite how much he needed them.

A knock from behind him, a pause, then a gentle set of taps. “..Lance..? You awake?”

Keith. Lance managed to pull himself up into a sitting position. “..Uh-huh. Come in?” The door beeped quietly, slid open and without making a sound Keith walked in.

He looked.. as tired as Lance felt. “Sorry, did I wake you?” Lance stretched as he shook his head, then shifted his legs so he was facing Keith.

“Nah, I was just getting ready to get up. What's up?” Keith fidgeted for a moment with a quiet 'um' before he took a seat beside him.

“..Last night, I had to go to processing to—well.” The fidgeting resumed. “..Torat's off the team.” Oh. He wasn't expecting to be told so soon, let alone to be woken up for it. He sniffled to clear the congestion from his nose and blinked blearily.

“For trying to—to sacrifice himself? On the mission?” Keith's expression turned sour as he looked away and nodded. “..Sorry, man. Must've been hard to make that call. He seemed like he liked being on board.” The crack of Torat's torso being slammed against the base's wall last night echoed in his mind.

“He was a good part of the team, yeah. But—what he did, went against everything I'm trying to do here with the Blades.” Keith's hands bunched in Lance's blankets in frustration. He paused for a moment to think, then faced Lance with a sort of earnest vulnerability he'd rarely seen from the other guy in the years they'd known each other; a struggle Keith had always had. “I want the Blades to be a place where everyone who fights to see the war end can actually see it end.” Naxzela once again arose from his memories, but Lance shooed it away.

“I mean, that's a pretty ambitious goal given their motto's basically—uh. The opposite of that.” Keith deflated, and Lance continued with a hurried tone as he reached out to him with panicked hands. “B-But that's a really cool goal to have! Really honorable, and junk.”

“Yeah..?” God, he wasn't ready for Keith's puppy-dog eyes this early in the day. Not at all.

“Yeah! I think it's a really great thing you're doing. We've—And everyone else, too—we've all lost a lot already. So.. trying to keep more loss to a minimum, yeah. Definitely a good thing.” Was his face getting red? He felt sweaty, but Keith didn't seem to notice. Or didn't care, if he did.

“..Thanks, Lance.” The moment between them slowed, and Lance took the time to appreciate Keith's handsome smile, but then Keith's eyes widened. “A-anyway—I didn't wanna wake you up to tell you about Torat, I wanted to say sorry for not checking in last night. It was a pretty intense mission and uh—I thought we could talk about it over breakfast?”

Lance's stomach awoke to remind him he was, in fact, starving.He nodded then shifted to get up. “I'm down. Cafeteria busy this time of.. day?” Quickly he shoved himself into a clean hoodie and slipped his Blue Lion™ socks on.

“Not really. A lot of blades eat in their room for the first meal of the day. We could too, if you want.” Lance thought about sitting close to Keith as he did the day before, knees leaning against each other; a conversation between just the two of them. The intimacy of such a mundane moment slapped him across the face with a shock of deep wanting.

“Cafeteria's good! I uh, gotta stretch my legs.”

—

As Keith predicted, it was relatively quiet. The two sauntered through a short line that reminded him of his days back at the Garrison, and before long they found a dark bench to sit. Lance slid in first, with Keith to follow directly beside him.

Keith didn't hesitate to dig into the odd assortment of goos and strange looking alien plants—or, meats, maybe? Lance leaned forward and inhaled in hopes the smell of his breakfast would clue him in to how it tasted, but instead a pleasant cologne he didn't recognize drifted into his senses.

Keith took a drink from a strange space pouch at the same moment Lance realized he had just inadvertently sniffed him, then cleared his throat. “Anyway, like I was saying. I don't wanna rush into finding Torat's replacement. There's not much to do on our end while the intel division monitors the base we bugged, so..”  A rosy hue bloomed on Keith's cheeks. “I thought we could take it easy for a bit. Maybe.. train like we used to.. and get better acquainted with the rest of the team.”

While Lance wasn't thrilled with the idea of having to spend more time with En, the idea of training with Keith introduced an entirely different set of butterflies into his stomach. “Take it easy and hang out with a bunch of cool alien super spies? Sounds good to me.” Keith grinned in the way he always did; lopsided and ridiculously handsome, made all the worse now by how the locks that slipped free from his loose braid framed his face.

Keith breathed a small laugh through his nose. “Good to have you on board, Lance.” He leaned forward and regarded him with a slight tilt of his head. “I mean it. It was a pretty close call yesterday, and we wouldn't have managed without you there.”

Lance outwardly preened despite the nagging voice at the forefront of his mind whispering otherwise. “Uh, yeah! That is why they call me the sharpshooter, y'know.” Keith rolled his eyes, still bemused.

—

The next few days were downright serene. It took daily hour-long calls with his family to soften the ache of homesickness in his chest, but once that was more manageable Lance was able to start truly taking in the wonders the base had on offer.

He sunk into the plush seats of the rec room's circular sofa in the early afternoon after a morning run and trip to the pool with Keith. Thankfully after they rinsed off, Keith changed into his regular full body uniform instead of the intensely distracting red shorts he'd been sporting all morning. He'd asked Lance to meet him in the rec room after Lance grabbed his own clothes from his room to spend time with the others, and as Lance stretched his legs far out in front of him and settled in, Hedrox tapped away on his oddly familiar looking tablet. Was that the new model Pidge had been going on about during their last video call?

“Hey Lieutenant,” Hedrox greeted, elongating the 'hey' in a very slow and casual manner despite the speed of his fingers tapping away. En, about fifteen feet away from the couch area, gave him a salute before returning to his push-ups on the floor. Kestin was nowhere to be seen, along with Keith. He hadn't exactly rushed to get here, so Lance wondered why he was the first to arrive. He lifted the small towel from across his shoulders and patted his face of residual moisture.

“Yo. You seen Keith around?”

“The Commander? Mhm, said he wanted to get some snacks for yo—for everyone. For the team. We.. like snacks.” En snorted from behind them, but said nothing.

“O...kay. Cool.. Uh, so.. You guys been here all morning?” He still wasn't entirely sure what to talk about with his new teammates, since he knew next to nothing about any of them. He learned Kestin was another human, surprisingly, and he'd joined the blades during an exchange program Kolivan and the Garrison had created two years ago. That was about it.

“Uh-huh, I pretty much live here when I'm not with the Intel crew,” Hedrox explained, then shifted and leaned heavily over the couch to point at their currently unmasked teammate. “En used to spend entire quintants holed up in his room working out, but now he does it here. Really stinks up the place.” The other blade halted their push-ups, and whipped up into an incredulous stance.

“Wh—Only because it was something you insisted upon! Had the Commander not agreed on your behest, I would not have done so. Would you prefer I leave?!”

“Noo, I like your stink! And I can never drag you all the way from your room to play Monsters and Mana with us here.”

“Hmph, the most simple and undemanding of tactical simulations. Can you truly blame me for not seeing the worth of such things?”

“Hold on, you guys play Monsters and Mana?!” Lance hadn't played that in years! Hedrox whipped back around.

“Absolutely! Although—” they faltered. “We were playing a campaign where um. Torat was kind of the main character. His people don't tend to live all that long so—“ Hedrox quietly settled back into his seat, and sighed. “We wanted to.. make sure he could make some nice memories with the Commander.” Despite the mask, it was obvious he was upset. En resumed exercising.

“Oh..”

“Anyway, I'll have to scrap the campaign and start a new one. Once it's ready, could I convince you to—or, that is to say—Do you want to be a part of it?!”

“Yeah, man! No one in my family likes playing anything but the Earth version of it. I think I still have my character data on my phone..” Hedrox leapt up to stand on the top of the sofa as Keith and Kestin strode in together.

“Sir Pike?! Lieutenant are you talking about the famed Sir Pike?! I'm gonna die right now.”

“What are we dying about?” Keith quirked a brow as he made a bee-line for Lance with a platter full of snacks. He then set it in the small round table curled within the sofa. Hedrox gestured emphatically at Lance, and Kestin sauntered over to a nearby mounted screen and pulled out some kind of console.

“The Lieutenant agreed to join us in a new Monsters and Mana campaign! And so I insist you join us once again, Commander.” Keith grabbed a handful of glowing pretzel looking snacks and tossed them in his mouth as he plunked next to Lance.

“..You handle making the character like before and I'll do it.”

“Deal!” At the same time, an overly loud voice from fifteen feet away boomed.

“I shall join as well!!”

Everyone looked over at En, now standing upright and rigid. They were breathing heavily and did not take their eyes off of Keith. Hedrox laughed in a way that was distinctly human, then gave En a thumbs up.

“Alrighty, I'm gonna whip up a campaign the M&M community'll lose their minds over.”

Lance looked over at Keith with his eyes wide, surprised by how lively this bunch of aliens were over a tabletop game. Keith shrugged. He offered some snacks from the platter which Lance gratefully obliged.

—

The strangeness his life had taken on soon settled into comfortable routine. In the simulated mornings in days that spanned approximately twenty-six and a half Earth hours to mimic the average day cycle of most inhabitants on the base, Lance would awake around the same time he used to in New Altea.

Instead of his solitary jog through the rolling country hills followed by the rest of the morning in the greenhouse, Lance now spent that time together with Keith. And the others, of course. Mobility and agility were highly important skills as super-spy space ninjas, so a large portion of their training regimens included plenty of cardio. They'd run the tracks in the training sector as a team, then branch off to their respective combat training zones. Close quarters combat was one of Lance's weakest areas, and after mentioning that offhandedly to Keith one night in the lounge, when Lance wasn't working on his aim, Keith would whisk him away for some practice. Together. Usually pretty sweaty all throughout, too (though En always followed and watched).

Quiznack,was Keith hot. In the weeks since his arrival, Lance had been thinking about how best to approach the asking-out-Keith conundrum. When was a good time? Anytime? When he was younger, and even now, Lance was never afraid to flirt. If someone wasn't interested, it was easy enough to move on, since how often would he really be seeing a random cute alien on some distant planet they saved? But with Keith..

Lance lifted up a tiny maintenance tool from the set for his blade issued pistol and examined the deconstructed gun on his desk in front of him. He'd already cleaned every part twice, and reassembled it in record time. It was a suitable distraction for his hands while he thought about what to do.

Lance considered the facts: Keith wasn't seeing anyone. But in the entire time Lance knew him, he'd never seen Keith directly express interest in any kind of person, so it was hard to say if he was into guys. Or anyone, for that matter. Was there a non-awkward way of trying to gauge that? Keith, buddy, hey man, just wondering if you'd hypothetically be interested in banging dudes? No reason for wondering, just curious. Totally not because I'd be devastated if I ruined our friendship by trying to get with you!

Lance clicked the final piece of the pistol back into place and groaned. He was so attractive though, it was almost infuriating! How did the cute and rough-around-the-edges Keith he'd saved the universe with manage to turn into one of the most handsome, charming, competent, and weirdly thoughtful guys he'd ever met?! It was bad enough he'd always been Lance's type. But now he had broad shoulders and a really nice ass on top of that. He wanted to.. well, he wanted to do a lot of things with Keith, obviously. But there was also the romantic part of Lance that longed for the sort of connection he hadn't had with anyone in years.

In the wake of the lions taking Allura's place in saving the universe from Honerva, Lance realized he would never be able to give her the life she deserved. He was just some guy from Cuba, some rebound,and neither of them would benefit from that kind of relationship. It was a quiet break-up. A mutual understanding, an awkward hug at the end of it, and the promise that they would still stay close friends.

But the Princess was a Princess, and the center of the newest push to unite the universe against the remnants of the empire. There was no room for Lance in that, not really, and it had been months since they spoke, let alone seen each other in person.

Lance was still kind of heartbroken over the whole thing. And the idea of pushing away Keith in the same way.. It.. scared him.

Never mind the mortifying idea of having to stick around in their tight-knit group after being rejected. Never mind the fact that Keith might even ask him to leave to avoid dealing with that whole awkward situation. Never mind how much he didn't want to go back to a life where nothing he did mattered. He loved his family, and he tried to tell himself it was fine to leave the universe saving to the rest of his old team because he was already too ruined by the war, but he was terrified he was going to spend the rest of his life doing nothing.

He wasn't talented, he wasn't special; he couldn't do anything worthwhile other than pilot a lion that didn't even technically exist anymore. And when his family and friends started aging, he'd be helpless to do anything but watch as everyone around him died because Allura thought it would be a gift to make him live six times as long as everyone else!

Oh. Lance was going to have to do something right away to stop thinking. He put his pistol back in its case and stiffly walked out the door of his room. He didn't want to be around anyone, but also hypocritically wanted desperately to be comforted. He wanted to call his mom, but then thought about having to eventually bury her. No, no, nope. Maybe he could just distract himself with training, or swimming, or something. He made his way down the now familiar hallways towards the training center,

then turned back around and went straight to Keith's door. He pressed the keypad, hoping both at once that he was busy, and that he wasn't.

“Hello?” His low and soothing voice drifted from under his fingertips.

“H-Hey! Keith, hey. You busy?”

“Hey Lance. I'm free, door's open.” Lance shuffled in with too much nervous energy that he tried to hide.

Keith's room was similar in design to his own, but sported a lot of interesting decorations. There were several boards on the walls with intel related to ongoing missions, assembled in a way that looked a bit like those conspiracy boards Keith made in his old cabin. There was a mounted case full of extremely alien-looking knives (a new hobby of his, Lance learned last week), and Kosmo was curled up in his bed, even tinier than usual. Keith turned from his desk to face Lance as he shambled in. “What's up?”

“Uhh, nothing much! Just—wondering what you were doing!” Instead of standing around strangely, Lance moved to sit on the bed and pulled the puppy-sized Kosmo onto his lap. Kosmo wiggled a bit in annoyance, realized Lance was there, and immediately settled back down into snoozing with an adorable huff. Keith leaned back in his chair and let his neck tilt back to face the ceiling.

“Not a ton. Just, so much—paperwork.” The desk was covered with small stacks of light blue paper-adjacent material, and what looked to be hundreds of space-y thumb-drives. Keith always seemed to have piles of them to plug into his personal blade-tablet thing, and apparently that was how they relayed top-secret info they didn't want to risk sending through any kind of network. It seemed weirdly inefficient, but Lance never felt like questioning it. “And most of it's another wave of applications for the team, even though I said I'm not rushing to find a replacement.” He swayed into an upright position, then turned to face him. “At this point I'm thinking about having the application say something like, 'are you willing to die to see the mission succeed?' just so I can toss the ones that say yes automatically.” Lance laughed nervously and gently scratched at Kosmo's small puppy mane.

“C'mon dude, imagine how desperate you'd be if not just one but two world-famous celebrities came to your job and had an opening on their team. Especially if they saved your life at some point, which we definitely did.”

“I guess. If you're not suited to working with them though, trying to push your way in anyway would probably just piss them off. Why even bother?”

“Ohh, buddy.. Never make a social media account.” Keith snorted.

“Wasn't planning on it. Anyway, your leg's doing that thing again.” Lance froze and looked down at his left leg jack-hammering against the floor. He'd picked up Kosmo into his arms at some point to not jostle him. “Something up?”

“No! Uh, no. I'm just—yeah, kinda antsy. You feel like doing something?” Keith studied him for a moment, then softened.

“Sure. If you wanna blow off some steam, we could—” Keith thought for a second. “Go work on CQC maybe? I used to do that all the time with the drones in the castle and it usually helped.” He stood up and walked over to Lance as he spoke, and gently picked up Kosmo from his arms. Then, he lifted his blanket up, rested the puppy against his pillow, and tucked him in. Lance instantly felt near ready to explode from fondness. He cleared his throat.

“Alright, let's go.” Surprisingly, Keith reached down to pull at the draping fabric part of his uniform that hung around his waist, then tossed it over his chair. When Lance looked at him questioningly, he smirked.

“Not giving you an advantage like last time.”

—

This was a bad idea.

High enough ranking members of the Blade of Marmora, Lance learned, were given access to a lot of amenities on base, including access to private training chambers. They'd only ever sparred with other teammates watching, which helped distract Lance enough to avoid thinking about how close he was to Keith, but this felt completely different now that they were alone.

“Masks on or off?” Keith asked as he finished inputting info into the room's door console. Recently, a time limit had been implemented to encourage blades not to overexert themselves, but no one on their team usually went for more than two or so hours except for En.

“On, I guess?” Lance then accidentally conjured an image in his mind of Keith pinned under him, hair tussled and face red, and immediately pressed the button on his suit to activate the mask. Keith nodded and did the same, but not to hide like Lance.

Lance gave a precursory quick stretch of his keyed up limbs, all electricity and jitters, and for a moment considered how uncomfortable it would be for Keith in a situation like this if he had to reject Lance, and quietly decided to put asking him out on the back-burner. At least for a while. He was still kind of a mess, anyway. “You ready?”

“Uh-huh.” He was feeling a little distracted, honestly. Keith was probably even better at CQC than Shiro at this point, so Lance knew he'd have to stay on the defensive. Keith leaned heavily on his right leg for a moment, then shot at him.

Sharp, brutal, efficient. Keith was a whirlwind of limbs and jabs. He wasn't one for grappling much, and instead whipped around Lance with a flurry of surprisingly easy to block punches.

Oh, he was warming him up and going easy on him. Lance's pride prickled a bit, and he took a moment to switch off the defensive to sweep a leg under the other man. But Keith leapt up in an instant, gripped the front of Lance's uniform, then tossed him. Lance needed only a second to recover before righting himself back onto his feet, and launched back over at Keith.

This time he was on the offensive, and though he lacked the same amount of raw Galran strength that Keith had, compensated by redirecting Keith's punches away from himself with rigid strikes of his forearms and elbows. Blue taught him, years ago, that in all ways he was best suited to be like water. Their comms were open, and he heard Keith give a satisfied laugh.

“Pretty good, Lance.”

“Hmph! You gonna go easy on me all day, dude? 'Cause I can just as easily head down to the pool if you're gonna—” Keith vanished from his view. What?

The slight breeze from his left was the only indication Lance got before he whipped around and braced. Keith's kick made a crack as it brutally connected to his crossed forearms shielding his chest, and Lance once again went careening backwards. Pain, bright and stinging flashed through his arms, and the air was knocked from his lungs as he hit the ground. He gasped and shuddered through it with his jaw clenched hard and tried to right himself. His armored arms were suddenly a sturdier white with blue bracers.

The inside of his mask lit up strangely, and in the same moment Lance noticed that, his fist was already connecting to Keith's masked cheek. Keith stumbled backwards. Lance took the opportunity to sweep his legs out from under him; this time it worked. He stomped on his ribs and Keith let out a pained gasp, but grabbed his ankle before Lance could retract it. In what felt like slow motion, his leg was twisted and pulled, and his balance was stolen from him. The ground slowly crept up to meet him, and with strength Lance couldn't match, Keith pinned his arms on either side against the smooth floor. He struggled for a moment before realizing the futility of it, then loosened the wires pulling his screaming muscles taut.

They both heaved deep breaths, masked faces only inches apart.

“Quiznack. You've been—” Keith wheezed and shook his head. “—holding out on me, Lance! Didn't know you had moves like that.”

It wasn't as bright anymore, and Lance was hit with the sudden realization that Keith was, in fact, very close right now. He bit back an embarrassed shriek and wiggled around until Keith released his hold. He blurted out the first stray thought that floated through his currently flat-lining brain. “Farming'll do that!” Lance squeaked.

“Farming—What?!” Keith wheezed again, and before long started to laugh. “That makes no sense!” He flopped down next to Lance, and relaxed with a chuckling sigh.

Lance felt a little like he wanted to die from embarrassment. But as he defended his nonsense claim, mostly found himself wanting to see Keith without his mask in that moment.

—

🥺 i wanted more BONDING SCENES!!! action and sad can wait!! Lance has to wax poetic about Keith's ass NOW!!

ANYWAY DID U LIKE THIS CHAPTER 😳

& BTW! I've already got up to chapter 5 on my patreon if u feel like supporting me and getting access to it early.... 👀