#i wasn't going to sleep until this was done

[mahmahmahmysharona]

When you and Bob have your first time…twice (pt. 1)

Bob Reynolds x Avenger Reader (Part 5/?)

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4

Here is what you learned about Bob after the kiss:

He loved kissing. Seriously, anytime you two were left alone, he was on you. In the day, these were light and quick, stolen out of the air in small moments of privacy. At night, when you two could hide out somewhere in the tower, they could be long, feverish kisses that left you both off-balance.

He stayed up late and woke up early. You never know what he did between those hours, but you were always dozing off before he did, and when you woke up, he’d already be alive to the world, watching the sunrise through the window or staring up at the ceiling. You wished you could learn the sound of him sleeping.

He waited up for you on nights when you headed out on missions. No matter how small, how easy, he was always there when you got back. (Apparently, he always did this.) Now, when you headed back to your room in the early hours, you’d barely touch your door before you heard his creaking open and felt him reaching out for you. He would follow you inside and watch you get ready for bed, climbing in beside you and letting you nest your head in the crook of his shoulder. Soon, it became the only way you could sleep at all.

You and Bob tried to hide your new relationship as much as you could at first.

You both acted normal in front of the rest of the team, but found solace in spending the nights hidden in one of your rooms. Honestly, it wasn't much different to what you were doing before — only this time, there was a newfound level of physical intimacy you were both trying to adjust to.

You hadn’t been in a relationship for years, thanks to your newfound status as an enhanced being and your never-ending line of duty. And Bob…well, Bob had his own reasons for a gap in his resume.

To put it bluntly, neither of you were novices in this particular field, but you weren’t exactly pros, either.

But it was undeniable: You both wanted each other. Now that you were allowed to, it was hard not to let the nights were you held each other get overheated fast. But you both broke away before things got in too deep. It became harder and harder, especially the more you fell for him.

Putting it down to a combination of shyness and lack of experience, you decided one day that it would be best to bite the bullet and take the plunge.

"Bob," you said one afternoon in the kitchen, with you and Bob eating lunch and hiding your joined hands under the counter. "Do you want to have sex with me?"

He let out a noise: half a laugh, half a strangled choke. "...What?" he asked.

"You heard me."

"Uh..." He looked around. It took him a few coughs to clear whatever food was now stuck in his throat from the double take. "Yeah. I mean, of course. Do you?"

"Yes." You picked some of the crust off your sandwich. You hadn't planned the conversation beyond this point. "Then I think we should. Tonight?"

He blinked. Then, remembering himself, he nodded, trying to match your professional tone. "Okay. Uh...looking forward to it."

You laughed: thank god. That was done with. And soon, you'd both have gotten over the initial awkwardness, and the real fun could begin.

That night, you waited up, wore your pyjama shorts and tank (the only thing you had that could even remotely be considered as alluring) and sat on the edge of your bed. You waited until you heard a knock at the door, and Bob came in.

He shut the door behind him and waited, softly smiling. There was too much waiting going on. "Hey. Come here," you told him, patting the mattress next to you. He moved over to your side, but you both remained in your own spot.

Eventually, he broke the silence. "I didn't know if you wanted me to get...stuff," he said. "Or if you already had."

"Stuff?"

"Condoms," he clarified. It wasn't a word you thought you'd hear Bob say when you first met him. Mind you, you never thought you'd be sitting here with him, getting ready to do what you were about to do. (Or at least, what you thought you were about to do.)

"Oh," you let out a small, breathy laugh. "Don't worry about that. It's not a problem."

He mimicked your laugh, not quite knowing why. "It's not?"

"I can't get pregnant. So, you know, it's your lucky day."

His eyebrows knitted together. "...What do you mean?"

"Just because of...what happened to me. The serum changed my biology. They said a lot of normal stuff isn't possible for me anymore."

You've told people this fact before enough times for it to become painless. But now, seeing the shattered look on Bob's face, you suddenly remembered the weight of it once again. You shifted in your seat, tearing your gaze away from him.

"I'm sorry," he said, resting his hand on your thigh. "...We don't have to do this if you don't want. Not tonight."

You snapped your eyes back up to him. You didn't want pity. You didn't want time. You wanted normalcy. You wanted him. You leaned forward and kissed him, bringing your hand up to his face and pulling him in.

He hesitated, but reciprocated as soon as he knew it was okay for him to do so. You stayed like this for a while, your lips moving against each other as you inched closer and closer. When his hand gripped your thigh harder, you took a sharp breath in. The sound seemed to flip a switch in him, and he brought his other arm to your hips, pulling you in and closing the gap between you.

You followed the movement and lifted yourself up, throwing your leg over him and resting yourself on his lap. Your arms looped around his neck, and you felt his hands grip handfuls of flesh on either side of your thighs.

"Do you want me, Bob?" you asked into his lips.

"Yes," he gasped in return. "You know I do."

In response, you rocked your hips against him, feeling the firm pressure underneath. He let out a soft moan, gripping you tighter, wrapping his arms around you. His lips found your cheek, your chin, your neck, striking the balance between pressing softly and giving away the hunger he was feeling from having you on top of him.

Your mouth found his earlobe, and you nipped at the skin there. "God," you heard from below you.

Taking that as a sign, you gently pushed him backwards until he was laying flat on the bed with you mounted above him. At being distanced from you suddenly, he appeared agitated, reaching up and grabbing you by the arms to pull you down and kiss you once more.

You rocked back and forth, increasing the friction between you, feeling him harden impossibly between your thighs. At seeing his face — a muddled mix of pleasure and concentration — you reached your hand down between you and guided your palm over him. The exhale he released was low and loaded. He was trying to hold back, and you didn't want him to.

As you slipped your hand along the border of fabric and firm muscle, one of his hands found your hair, hooking a handful and tugging gently. Finally breaking through, you reached down and took him in your grip. At the feel of him, you let out a soft hum, but he was nothing compared to the gasp that came from him.

"Shit," he said. "Oh, shit."

You held him in your hand, gently and slowly moving up and down, enjoying the feeling of his hips rising up to yours with each motion. He pulled on your hair even more, bringing your face down to his so your breaths became entangled between you. You increased your movement, pumping your hand harder. Bob moaned into your mouth, and you couldn't help it — your own moan followed, his name coming out right alongside it—

Suddenly, there was the sound of shattering glass. A lot of it.

A yell echoed from across the tower: "Holy hell!"

You and Bob sat bolt upright. You looked at him. He looked at you. You were both pink in the face and panting. It only took a second — and god, you didn't want to — but you slipped off him and went to the door.

"What the hell was that?" you asked, still feeling the knocks of your heart against your chest pounding through you.

"Uh...I think...I think that was me."

You turned to look at Bob. He was still sitting there, still at attention, now with a slightly bashful look painted on his face. You looked at him and back at the door.

"I'll be right back," you told him. You slipped outside, wandering towards the kitchen. When you got there, Walker is standing in the dark, in his pyjamas, staring at a pile of broken glass. It seemed every glass in the cabinet exploded, shattering fragments across the kitchen. Walker looked at you, dumbfounded.

"I just came in for some water, I swear to god," he said.

"Well..." You paused. "You know where the dustpan and brush is."

As you walked back to your room, you heard him yell, "But I didn't do this!"

"I don't see anyone else in the room with you!" you called back.

When you returned to your room, you were disappointed to see Bob standing, seemingly recovered from the position you were in not just a few minutes ago. Seeing your confusion, he came to you, grabbing your arms and pulling you closer.

"Is it a mess?" he asks, pressing his lips to your head.

"Yes. You really did that?"

"I guess so. I think I got overwhelmed, but in a good way. I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be. I’m sorry. Maybe I pushed this too hard and too fast. I just wanted…I just wanted us to—”

“I know. Me too.”

God, now you wanted him even more. He’d never believe it if you told him, but you honestly thought that out of everyone in the building, Bob was the only one who ever said what you wanted to hear. You reached out and pulled him in. You felt his hand at the back of your neck, stroking the skin there. You wanted him again, and he wanted you (you could tell from the sound of his fluttering heartbeat by your cheek), but you wanted to let it be. You wanted to wait.

Turns out, you wouldn’t have to wait for much longer after all.

Coming soon: …Pt. 2.

Tag list: @purplefluffycows @i-shall-abide @avengersinitiative2012 @tatsunesworld @lovelyypythoness @yujyujj

[eraserbread]

Imagine forbidden romance family friend yuji and kento’s daughter nanami would be furious 😩🫣

"dad, can i pleaseeee have a friend over?"

"what did your mother say?"

"she said to ask you."

"then, go ask her again." kento nuzzles back in his chair, flipping the nonfiction book in front of him to the next page. it was evening now, past dinner and chores. supposedly, rin had finished her homework because she's at her father's neck, pouting, giving him that look she stole from him.

"but you could just say yes, and i'd leave you alone." her meticulous smile falters just before brightening her face once more. kento gives her a shadowed glare. "pleaseeee?"

"go ask mom."

rin stares at him dead-eyed for a moment. he blinks up at her, eyebrow crooked like he's wondering why she's still distracting him. "ugh, you never let me do anything-

stomping off down the hallway, ken is just glad rin took his answer well enough to leave him alone. though she's his spitting image, rin has your bite—that attitude he married and treasured. but it's different on his little girl—funnier.

he breathes out a laugh, then goes right back to reading.

what kento didn't know is that he dodged a bullet. no—a sixteen-year-old boy-sized nuke headed straight into his home.

"just wait until your dad finds out," you're grumbling, pushing rin and yuji from her room and into the hallway. and it's your fault—you ended up caving and agreeing that she could bring her friend over. after all, it's a weekend, she's overachieving in school, and her chores are done. now, you must punish her and all her calculating, mischievous ways. kento is far too light-handed for teenage girl antics.

"b-but I don't have one!" rin's classmate, yuji, whom she's known since middle school, is on trial next to her—young, pouting face round with shame.

"what's happened?" kento steps out of the bedroom, a tied robe keeping him decent. his eyes are shadowed with the promise of sleep. but he can't sleep when every light in this house is on; in fact, he couldn't sleep at all. you weren't next to him.

"i found them..." you start, letting them into the open space with a push, "in her bedroom, kissing."

"mom, wait—it wasn't like that." rin's hair is tossed, and kento is not dumb. his eyebrow twitches. images of the description flutter to the front of his mind, and it's unwelcome and ugly. he's furious. but rin would never know. kento doesn't share the hot side of his emotions with anyone but you—surely not to his livewire teenage daughter

"you think i don't know what kissing is?"

"you're being so totally overdramatic."

"i'm dramatic? no phone for a week," you hold an empty palm to your defiant teenager, ushering her with a curl of your fingers. "now."

of course, rin listens to you easily, but she still pushes it into your hands and stomps all the way back to her room. the door slams—just for good measure.

then kento sighs, shaking his head. in his mind, a fair punishment would be the inability to have more friends over—that's what he wants. just one less promise of an angsty brat in his space. "dear, i think we should reevaluate-

"shut up, kento."

nanami takes it, nodding once, sucking his cheeks when he watched rin hand over her phone like she'd never see it again. yuji watches over your shoulder, guilty as hell and suddenly two sizes too small for his baggy jeans. the truth is, he's been seeing rin on and off since they started high school. it's just a thing that led to unsure pecks on the lips behind closed doors.

it was never anything so serious until you lost your shit. now, your big, scary husband is towering over yuji with a quirk in his brow, taken aback when you walk past and shove rin's confiscated phone into his robed chest.

alone now, standing face-to-face in the bright, white light of the hallway, yuji looks so meek as he bows his head. "sir, i'm so-

kento doesn't want to talk. he hardly wanted to get out of bed, and now you've made it his personal mission to show the kid off. he and his glossy skincare still seeping into his pores, uncombed hair, and peeking chest through his garment.

but like a good husband, he takes a sigh and turns back to his room to get dressed.

and when he crawls back in bed with you after the kid is safe at home with his grandfather, he whispers in your ear, wrapping his arms around you, "well, at least you did not overreact."

"is that supposed to be funny?"

[mistressofthemanor]

masterofthemanor

Celeste stayed true to her word and didn't linger around for long, but bid farewell to him and disapparated with a loud crack, leaving deafening silence in her wake, giving way to his loud thoughts and the guilt building within him to crush down on him with great force. For how long his heart would allow him to keep this up and risk playing with her trust, he couldn't know, however, he was willing to do it until he possibly could and for as long as they needed to sort things out with Narcissa and get perfectly comfortable in and with the relationship themselves; although, what he didn't account for at that point was that no matter how long they've waited, revealing their secret- or any secret of that nature wouldn't ever be comfortable, no matter how much time had passed. In fact, the longer, he'd kept Celeste in the dark, the further he'd push her away, and in the end, if things with Narcissa wouldn't go as he'd hoped, he'd not only lose her again, but his daughter as well. Too much was on the line, he did realise that, however, he was already too deep in it to stand away now. In fact, he hated to admit it, but it had been too late the moment he'd first set eyes on her after more than two years. He knew the moment he'd agreed to attend Ariadnè's birthday party just what was in store for him- that he'd either have to live with Narcissa or without her as there'd be no in-betweens. He'd even told her that he would never be able to be just her friend as he'd never stopped loving her with the same intensity and he wouldn't be able to diminish what he'd felt before, during- and despite those years they'd spent apart. He'd taken that risk and he was willing to continue his life even without her in it, just as he had done for his daughter and granddaughter during that time, however, by meeting with Narcissa and letting her in even for those few hours then, he'd made things more difficult for himself than if they'd remained without any contact. "No, I- Of course not" He turned in the direction where her voice came from, the deep line that had formed on the middle of his forehead from his thoughts present for another second before his features evened out as he shook his head and watched her approach him. "Celeste stopped by" He replied softly, offering her a smile, but not saying more on the topic just yet, unsure about whether she'd heard voices or the conversation itself. In need of some support, endorsement or approval, he couldn't decide, he'd extended his arm and held his hand out for her, meaning to take hers to later bring her into an embrace, except, she'd caught him off guard mid-way with a snarky, yet playful remark he couldn't left without a word on his own. "A gamble? With me- excuse me?!" He exclaimed, appalled by the mere idea, although, it wasn't a lie considering his sleeping-routine hasn't been the best in the past years. "If I recall correctly, every single time I've slept in was not because of me or my inability to wake up early, but because of the circumstances... or... dare I say, because of you?" He asked finally, arching a brow with the intent to insinuate her, however, the ghost of a smirk was already playing at his lips.

Narcissa didn’t miss the way his voice softened when he mentioned Celeste, nor the shadow in his eyes he tried to smooth out before facing her. She’d seen that look on him before, long ago, back when he was still trying to navigate the impossible weight of being both a father and a husband during a war that had gutted them all. It had never fully left him but now wasn’t the time to indulge in that heaviness. She moved toward him with deliberate grace, letting his outstretched hand guide her the rest of the way. Her fingers slipped into his, a quiet anchor for her. Just as he’d hoped, she had let him draw her in, her hands resting lightly at his waist and her gaze rising to meet his. “Oh, I fully stand by what I said,” she replied airily, tilting her head with faux-innocence. “It was always a gamble. One never knew what version of you would answer the door before noon: the charming host, the groggy tyrant, or the elusive ghost.” She felt his chest move against hers as he let out a dry laugh, and the tension between them loosened slightly. Then he shot back with his own tease. Her eyes narrowed with mock offense, though the smile tugging at the corner of her lips betrayed her. “Me," she echoed, drawing back just an inch, as her hand lifted to press lightly against his chest. “Are you seriously blaming me for your appalling sleep habits?” She let the silence linger for a beat, then added silkily, “If I recall myself correctly, I was often the one up with the owls, checking on the baby, arranging household matters, while you were dead to the world...unless, of course, I woke you for… shall we say, less domestic reasons.” She raised a brow, tone both smug and intimate, then gave a soft laugh and shook her head. “Honestly, Lucius, if you’re going to start revising history, do try to make it convincing.” However, as she leaned her cheek briefly against his shoulder, that moment of levity gave way to something quieter. She closed her eyes as she relished in the safety of his arms that felt so secure, something she had missed. She wanted to confess that she’d heard nearly everything and to share her thoughts on Celeste. And yet, she couldn't. Not now, not like this.

Bones of Contention

[2hff]

I am also upset that the "big emergency" was so fucking lackluster. Like if Tim wasn't so fucking set on having the 118 "seperated and then finding their way back to each other" be at an uninspired building collapse then they could have been done with it in 12 minutes and spent the rest of the show on the actual storylines of the characters finding their way back home.

You know what would have been a MUCH better flow for the episode:

>Everyone at the station. Eddie gets his turnouts. Hen says no cap. Buck, being a dick, says "It's just a number now." Chin looks around and says something like "That's it, then? Eight years of us and it's just over?" Sad faces. Dramatic tension visible as they all won't meet each others eyes, etc. Blah blah moody lighting and camera angles, our babies are going through it.

>They get the call for the building collapse while all still together. Call center makes it seem like they're not going to have a lot of back up (all the other firehouses are actually off grieving bobby or some shit), so Eddie decides to go with them.

>The rescues still play out basically the same except FASTER. Chim AND Hen find Athena cause they're clearing the building. (There was no reason to have the whole athena/chim together thing because NOTHING really happened to move their characters forward until everyone else got there.) Gerrard doesn't let Eddie go with Buck because he's technically not employed so he has to stay down there. When Buck and Ravi get trapped, he has his idea. Bing Bang Boom shave off like idk 7 minutes.

>The Graham scene still plays out EXACTLY as it was on the show. (THAT is what we should have had with Bobby's death.) The whole team working to save him. The tension, the fear, the grief was thicker in that scene then the dust floating around and the soot coating their faces. And then the save. And the relief. And the imagery of them all carrying Graham out into the light as a TEAM?? Breathtaking. And then. And then...they all turn away from each other because even though they were united in that one moment - these people are still monumentally fractured in their mourning.

>Chim's Goonie's Never Say Die speech still happens, but without the whole calling out Buck and Eddie and not giving them the choice. But something more pleading. Please don't leave, please don't break this family even more. Please don't. Slightly more optimistic lighting and camera angles. There's a softening. A small release of tension.

>Then you spend the other idk 29.5 minutes stitching our babies back together. You see someone reach out to the other. You see Hen in the car with Athena. You see Chim and Maddie (and well EVERYONE if this was the 118 from several seasons ago) at the adoption. You see Eddie talking to Chris about moving back, with Buck in the background. You see them packing and unpacking. You see Buck sleeping on the couch with apartment hunting tabs open on his computer. You see Chim stocking gear and Buck checking off on his clipboard. They're teasing each other. You see Hen laughing in the background with Ravi - showing him a picture of Figure Skating Bobby. You see Eddie opening his locker and hanging his photo of him and Chris up. You see Chim slapping him on the back. You see Buck cooking in the firehouse. You see Athena placing one of Bobby's aprons around Buck's neck. She lingers over his heart. You see Maddie joining them for lunch. You see her water break. You see all of them jumping up and chaos getting her down the stairs. You see them piling in to the ambulance and captain's vehicle to race to the hospital. You see Athena clearing the way in her police car. You see Ravi looking like he's going to check how dilated Maddie is and then Buck elbowing him and covering both their eyes as Chim does it. You see Karen ushering Denny and Mara into the car at their house cause Eddie called since Hen's driving. He grabs the bar above the door as they take a turn. Hen flashes him a smile and Eddie shakes his head. You see May on the phone and yelling at Harry and Christopher to stop gaming cause they gotta go! You see the ambulance arrive at the hospital and they're pulling Maddie out of the back. It's cinematically shot almost the same way as when they all brought Graham out of the building. Only this time. This time there is joy. There is family. They are together. They have found each other again. They have chosen this. Chim places Robert KEVIN Han into Athena's arms. "Hello, Bobby."

See. It's basically the EXACT SAME EPISODE. No Buddie Canon, No Bobby alive in a govt research lab. It's the same. Only so so so much better and about the characters. It's about the family of the 118.

[starfxkrinc]

first fuck with bsfdad!jj

comin over tonight?

three words had your heart thumping against your chest. ever since the night jj kissed you things have gotten more intense, he would catch you alone in different corners of the house to kiss you and touch you--all the while making it abundantly clear your shorts were the cause of his raging hard on.

in all honesty it made you rethink past interactions with him. every smile, every pat on the shoulder, every time he brushed against you on the way to the fridge. it made you wonder if your crush wasn't completely one sided. god can you even call what he has a crush? it feels so juvenile. a 46 year old man crushing on you. but he was nicer to you than the rest of reed's friends, and it can't totally be because you've been around the longest.

it took everything in you to control your smile as you read the text over and over, as if 'coming over' meant leaving your house for a late night fuck and not just you walking down the call so jj could eat you out. regardless it made your head spin as you texted yes :3, scrolling through past messages of a hard, throbbing dick and splatters of cum on the camera, ignoring reed as she blathered on about her new boy of the week.

"i dunno i told him we can hang out but really i just wanna get around his friend i can't believe i let the third hottest in the group fuck me it's so--are you listening to me?"

your head snaps up, eyes wide as you stammer, "yeah-uh, which guy is this?"

"ugh, don't be a bitch just because nobody approaches you and you closed yourself to guys it doesn't mean you can act like i'm slut of the year."

"i wasn't--"

she huffs, "i don't care, i'm going to sleep."

you love your friend, truly. but her ego can't stand not being the center of your universe even if it's just a second. you go to lay next to her in the bed, waiting as her breathing slows and evens out, then waiting an hour more so you know she's deep in sleep.

when you're sure you're in the clear, you crawl out of the bed, thankful that she's such a deep sleeper as you expertly navigate the creaky old floors of the maybank house.

for some odd reason you feel nervous, as if you haven't been doing this for weeks. but when you crack open the door and see jj laying there shirtless--broad and tanned and rough with age--you feel your cunt pulse with heat. so much so he can't help but notice you shove your palm against your crotch.

"stop all that sneakin, get in here." jjs voice rumbles throughout the room is a slight whisper, jolting you forward and tumbling into his bed.

he wastes no time getting on top of you, prying your lips open with his and you let out a soft noise at the increasingly familiar taste of beer on his tongue.

jj pulls back, peppering kisses against your full cheek, "took you a while tonight."

"she wouldn't stop talking. i think she's mad at me."

he sighs and traces a finger around your bellybutton and you can't see his face but you sense something lingering in the air, "she'll get over it. let's watch a movie."

normally this is code for something else and jj tucks you against his chest so he can slide his cock between your thighs, but this time he really does put on a movie. between the warmth of his body and the gentle thumb swiping your nipple you're almost lulled to sleep.

until you feel his breath on your neck, his facial hair causing goosebumps to prickle on your skin as he mumbles, "let's get this off."

off. jj's never done that before, not really. even when he eats you off he tucks your shorts to the side and the idea of him seeing all of you makes you nervous. what if you're too chubby? too hairy? he'll see the dimples on your ass and the stretch marks on your tits instead of smooth plains of taut skin and you protest.

"n-no. i don't--i'm not--"

"cmon kiddo, just let me see ya. let me see how pretty y'are."

you're shaking as he turns you on your back, peeling your shorts off your round hips with a soft smirk, "there she is, look at you. could just take a bite right now."

so that's what he does, sinking his teeth into the sensitive skin on the crease of your hip making you moan unexpectedly. that doesn't stop him, just makes him ball up your panties and shove them in your mouth, "just stay quiet."

then he's on you, but he's lacking his normal fervor. instead he takes his time, spreading your lips and sucking your clit into his mouth until its swollen and throbbing, like he's indulging himself on he taste and smell of you. and he might as well be with the way his lips smack and soft grunts build from his chest. each drip of arousal is quickly lapped up with his tongue as he kisses your cunt nice and slow. you had to be drowning him with how wet you were, but neither of you cared as you buried your fingers in his blonde hair, digits cramping as he sucked you into an orgasm.

your cunt's still twitching as he pulls off, leaving closed mouth kisses against your hot flesh as you calm, but just as your breathing even he slides two fingers into you, scissoring them open to watch you stretch.

"s'gonna be a tight fit but...well i'll make it fit." jj pulls his fingers out, sucking them clean so he can push your shirt over your tits with that hand as he shoves his boxers down with another.

and jesus christ the size of him. it's one thing to see it on your phone and to feel it slipping between your thighs but it's another to see it. thick, uncut with a tangle of hair at the base. his balls hanging low and heavy. you're paralyzed as he grabs himself and lays it across your stomach, stopping a couple inches short of your belly button.

"jj--is that--you know i never--oh my god is it even gonna fit?" you were panicked despite how your hole was clenching at the thought of it, whimpering to cup your pussy but he shooed your hand away to spread you open.

in efforts to soothe you he rubbed the head up and and your slit, mixing your arousal with his pre cum to get the tip slit, "you're a big girl kiddo. just a little pinch, a little stretch. me n you are good to go. just trust me aight?"

trembling you nod, "can i have a kiss?"

jj gives you a real smile, as strained as it is, and kisses you deep. you can taste yourself lingering on his lips but the weight of him comforts you. because he's strong and hot and solid and he wants you. you're in his bed, not the other girls. he talks to you and compliments your dress and says you're the sweetest girl he knows just because you ask how his day's been.

so you let him in, with his hands gripping your pudgy hips as you pant into each other's mouths.

"fuck, easy honey you're alright just a little more."

the slight burn of the stretch travels up the base of your spine and you moan into his shoulder, "oh my god, keep going please."

all jj can do is nod, pulling his hips back until just the tip rested in the dewy pout of your cunt before slamming back into you.

you'd never felt so full, and you lifted your head to watch him split you open, and he laughs.

"you're takin me so good honey, feel that?" he fucks into you harder, grounding his hips against yours so his tip smushes against your cervix.

"uh-huh, too--much, it's too much!" you speak in a hushed shout, hands pressed against his stomach as you futilely attempt to slow him down. but he's so heavy all you can do is squirm beneath him as he wrecks you completely, leaving you trembling.

"not yet." spoken as if it's a promise, he spreads your lips with two fingers before stroking your sensitive clit, pushing a squeak form your chest so loud he has no choice but to shove a hand over your mouth.

how much good that does you don't know, because jj's grunting in your ear and the beds squeaking so loud you're hoping reed tendency to be a heavy sleeper doesn't fail you.

you're over stimulated, between the fingers on your clit and his cock stretching you in ways you've never felt before, all you could do was hold on, raking your nails down his chest as you fluttered around him. it started in your gut, spreading in hot pulses through your body as you creamed down his balls until it dripped onto the sheets below--back arched with a moan muffled behind his calloused hand.

jj presses his face into your neck, breathing in the smell of your sweat and your sweet floral lotion as he fucks his load into you thick and hot.

his palm drops, both of you panting like you've lost a fight as he pulls out as gently as he can, one hand on your tummy as he sees you wince. he runs his hands down your body, his cock giving a half hearted twitch as he sees the pink tinge to the creamy ring of cum at the base of his dick.

"shit kid, m'sorry lemme clean you up."

you lay there, limp and exhausted as he cleans the mess between your thighs, pressing a kiss to the bite mark he left on your waist.

"can i stay for a little bit?"

jj looks at the clock. 4:35am

"yeah, lets get some sleep."

thank god reed is a heavy sleeper.

[sevikaswifegurl]

CAN’T SLEEP?

Daniel Ricciardo X Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Daniel Ricciardo couldn’t sleep, so you used your mouth.

Warning: blowjob, hair pulling, deep throat, consensual, Daniel Ricciardo (yes, it’s a big warning), orgasm, not proofread because it was embarrassing enough just writing this.

Word count: 950

Note: English is not my first language, so I apologize in advance if there are any errors and promise that I will improve the templates

The night was heavy with heat. The hum of the TV played in the background, forgotten. You and Daniel had been lounging on the couch for a while — not speaking much, just letting the silence stretch. But the tension between you wasn't quiet. It was loud in the way his leg pressed lightly against yours. In the way his eyes kept falling to your body, lingering.

You were wearing those thin lounge shorts — the ones that barely held on to your hips — and a tight white T-shirt with no bra. Every little movement made the fabric stretch, cling, shift. And Daniel was trying to pretend he wasn’t watching.

You caught him staring for the third time. "You can't sleep?" you asked, voice low.

He gave a breathy chuckle. "Not with you sitting there like that."

That was all it took.

You slipped off the couch and knelt between his legs without another word. He looked down at you — confused for half a second, then completely still. His breath caught when you tugged his sweatpants down just enough to free him.

He was already hard.

You wrapped your hand around him and licked the tip slowly, savoring the way he twitched under your tongue. Then you took him into your mouth — deep, warm, wet.

He groaned low in his throat, head falling back against the couch. You sucked him slow at first, working your mouth over him, letting your tongue slide along the underside with pressure. Your fist moved in rhythm at the base, slick with spit, stroking in sync with your lips.

“Fuck…” he muttered, hips shifting. “Jesus, baby…”

You didn’t say a word. You just looked up at him through your lashes as you took him deeper — pushing until he hit the back of your throat. You gagged softly and came back up for air, then did it again, faster, filthier. Slurping, sucking, spit dripping from your chin. The room filled with the obscene sound of it, wet and fast and relentless.

Daniel's hand found the back of your head, not guiding, just holding — his fingers tangled gently in your hair like he needed to ground himself.

You hollowed your cheeks, sucked him harder, faster. His thighs tensed under your hands, his breathing turned ragged.

"I'm— fuck, I’m close..."

You didn’t slow down. You let him go as deep as he needed, letting him use your mouth, your throat. He came with a broken moan, shaking beneath you, hot and heavy down your throat. You swallowed all of it — didn’t flinch, didn’t stop until he was twitching from oversensitivity.

When you finally let him go, his cock was still half-hard, slick and spent. You wiped your mouth lazily with the back of your hand, then climbed back onto the couch like nothing had happened, curling into his side.

He was quiet. Breathing heavy.

"You're dangerous," he muttered, eyes half-closed, a lazy smile forming.

You didn’t answer — just laid your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat slow.

His arm was around you, but limp now. His legs stretched out. You felt his body soften completely. And then his breathing evened out. His chest rising and falling steadily.

He had finally fallen asleep.

Dick still out, pants half down, and a blissful little smile on his face.

And you? You just lay there, proud, knowing exactly what you'd done.

[mcrdvcks]

my thoughts on the finale of andor season 2. spoilers ahead!

i think the biggest "gripe" was bix's ending. it didn't make any sense. in fact, it's not just her ending, it was her whole story in season 2. first she was having nightmares after what happened to her on ferrix. then she was almost raped by an imperial officer. then developed an (almost?) addiction to a sleep drug, then was just sitting happy on yavin before leaving. i believe her leaving was the right call (the whole force healer thing was super intriguing), but they could've done so much more with her story. tony gilroy said that bix having a baby was supposed to be the "hope" in the otherwise grim ending - that's okay, i guess. i think as a whole they should've done more with her character.

anyways, now we go onto everything else. luthen dying was bound to happen, i wish we got to see a bit of dedra still working on finding axis rather than just showing up to luthen's shop. but i do feel like her ending is rather poetic. she believed in the empire, she willfully served it. she wasn't upset at ghorman's being slaughtered, she was upset the syril died. she didn't care about the people of ghorman, which is abhorrent. but then, for the empire to turn their back on her and classify her as a "traitor" when in reality she actually wasn't? it's hard to know whether to feel sorry for her or not. until you remember she's the one responsible for a genocide.

overall, this whole season, hell, this whole show, is probably one of the best pieces of television in a looong time. it's culturally and politically relevant, has good writing, directing, and acting, and is just... amazingly good.

anyways, i'm going to cry now knowing cassian never knew he was a father😭😭

[wormholxtreme]

Panting, breathless, but buzzing with satisfaction. Oh how he loved the sound of her moans, the feel of her pulsating around him, the way they crested together, maybe fully synchronized but pretty damn close. Stars were in his eyes and his vision just wouldn't focus. Not with the way she was kissing him. Not with the way she said it over and over again. She could say it a hundred times and he'd still not be sick of it.

His skin was still burning, bubbling with the way she pressed against him and he couldn't help but let out an exasperated laugh. The kind that was bright and wonderful, laced with a bit of disbelief. Not that he didn't believe her, he couldn't believe this was real.

Peeta was spent, but his hands ached to touch her, to study every inch of her body and commit it to memory. He wrapped his arms around her comfortably, nuzzling into the top of her head, breathing in that lovely scent of her. "I love you too Katniss." he hummed into her embrace.

He opened his arms, allowing her the space to shift until they found a comfortable position, reminiscent of their younger years. He wasn't sure at what point he was lulled to sleep. Whether it was the melodic sound of her voice, or the soft way her fingertips brushed against his skin, but by the time he opened his eyes again, the sun was starting to filter through the curtains.

Peeta's eyes flittered open, taking in the sight of her. Somehow in the night they'd ended up on their sides facing each other. He pressed his forehead against hers lightly, taking care not to wake her. The haze of wakefulness and sleep ebbed and flowed as he stayed in the twilight between the two. Occasionally opening his eyes to peak at her, to solidify she was there and it wasn't just another dream he'd had. Satisfied she was real and in his arms, he'd drift off again.

He wasn't sure what time it was by the time the phone rang out in the living room. Brows furrowed in curiosity at who would be calling but he was in no rush to answer. That is until the fourth time back to back and the noise made Katniss stirr.

Peeta pressed soft lips against hers, pulling her gently into the waking world. He didn't want to leave her side until she was awake and aware. Once he was sure, he gave her a lovely smile. "Someone has decided to bother us this morning." he mused humorously, checking the clock on the bedside table and making a funny grimace. "-er afternoon." he corrected.

"Breakfast?" he asked shifting his weight to the edge of the bed, feeling the cool air against his skin as he left the warmth of her embrace. He wrapped a spare blanket around his form and searched around for the modified crutch he kept near his bed. It was a simple contraption, a crutch that had a knee rest where he could move around the house without having to fully prepare his prosthetic.

By the time he reached the phone it had rang at least three more times and immediately he was greeted by Effie's worried shrill voice. He chuckled, eyeing Katniss through the open door and rolling his eyes before mouthing silently that it was Effie.

"Yes Katniss is here. We're fine. Actually Effie, she could use some spare clothes and I need your wonderful organization skills. We're gonna head back to twelve as soon as possible." he announced.

Effie's jubilance echoed so loud through the phone he had to hold the receiver away from his ear. He shook his head with a laugh, politely letting her talk more before making up an excuse to finally end the call.

He set the itinerary in his head, aching to go back to bed but knowing things needed to be done. He leaned over the bed kissing her again with a smile. "You wanna take a shower? Effie's gonna bring you some clothes. I'll work on breakfast in the meantime. And uh I would like to say goodbye to some of the neighbors before we head out. I think they'd be upset if I just left without notice."

Peeta guided her hips with a sense of urgency and dominance, a surprising mix that made her heart swell. She loved him, she was dizzy, and she was in love with him. Every movement made her feel like she was unraveling, coming apart and being held together all at once. His hands were holding onto her for dear life, like he needed her just as badly.

The words tumbled out of her mouth, and the way Peeta's expression shifted had her breath hitching. Like a switch had been flipped, his hips crashing up into hers with a reckless abandon that pulled her own moans from her throat. Her body shivered, struggling to keep her grip on him as that building feeling turned a peak. Peeta captured her mouth in a bruising kiss, her thighs tightening around him as he bucked into her. She never knew it could be like this, that anything could feel so euphoric. Peeta continued to grind into her, her climax hitting unexpected and hot. Katniss doubled over, a moan swallowed by their kisses.

Peeta sank back into the mattress, and Katniss let out a soft whine as she shifted her hips, lifting off him just enough to hover. A lazy smile tugged at her lips while he pressed gentle, aimless kisses to her skin. "I love you," she breathed, leaning down to kiss him. "I love you," she whispered again, softer this time, her mouth brushing over his jaw in a series of unhurried pecks. "I love you," she murmured against his throat, her lips trailing downward. "I love you," she said once more, this time into the ink etched on his skin, placing a kiss there that lingered before she rested her chin on his chest, eyes lifting to meet his.

[ray935sworld]

Alex Marquez for number 9 please 🥰🥰

Based on this

Sleep deprivation

Alex & Marc

aka Alex being too ambitious and Marc being a helpless overprotective brother

Marc once more realized the downside of being an athlete sponsored by engery drinks.

It was barely morning and he saw Alex take a red bull out of the cupboard. He watched how his younger brother let it rotate in his hold. He spun it around his fingers before opening it and pouring it down his throat. He took big sips, almost desperate for the drink.

Why did they even had those drink? They weren't healthy. Alex shouldn't drink them, especially this early in the morning.

"Everything okay?" Marc asked loudly and watched how Alex flinched. He turned to him, visibly startled to see him.

"What? Yeah. I just - I need to get some stuff done and I didn't sleep well" "Why not?" "Cause the monster under my bed kept kicking me" Alex rolled his eyes and gave his brother an annoyed look.

Marc didn't fail the notice the dark circles under his eyes that kept growing.

"What do you think? I just didn't sleep well!" "Chill, maybe you were up all night watching porn or something" he replied jokingly, hoping to ease the tension but to no avail. "Very funny" the younger one muttered before disappearing.

It was in the afternoon when Alex drank his next engery drink.

He took a deep breath, trying to get the little voice out his head that this wasn't healthy and how it messed with his training.

He knew that already. He knew all those weird chemicals messed with his diet and by the way his hands were shaking, he knew it wasn't avoidable.

The voice told him he should get some sleep. Rest. Let his body heal and then deal with everything else. That his health should be his priority. But he couldn't do that.

His eyes felt dry. They were burning like fire. Every time he blinked, there was a short moment of release, a little break, a moment of peace. But as soon as he opened them again, it kept on burning.

He sighed, giving in for a moment. He felt his shoulders heavily weighting him down. He felt the pressure building up, almost bubbling over, crushing him under it.

He felt his mind getting tired, his brain and body begging him to lay down, rest, get some sleep. But he refused. He couldn't. He didn't want to. Even the pressuring headache couldn't make him sleep.

He wanted to scream. He wanted to explode. He wanted to run as far away as he could and just disappear.

He just wanted to lay down and sleep. Sleep and not wake up. Sleep until everything went away, until no one cared about him anymore. Sleep until everything was over.

But he couldn't.

He had things to do. He had people he needed to make proud. He needed to make something out of their work, no matter how much he hated that everyone looked at him.

So instead he trained. And trained some more.

He texted his engineers to ask weird questions about the bike that didn't make sense. He looked over the data for a few million times just to try and see stuff that wasn't really there.

He needed to figure out what he was doing wrong, why he only had one win while his brother was so much better. He even snuck into Marc's office and made pictures of his data to compare them. But despite a few differences that were because of the bike, he didn't saw anything he didn't already know.

But slowly it was taking his mind away. He knew he was running out of time. He had to get a grip around the data and the different feeling on the bike.

Le Mans had been his final straw. Not just one but two crashes when he should have been on the podium.

He couldn't keep going like that. He couldn't get P2 or crash. He didn't want to be Mr P2. He wanted to be Mr P1. He wanted to be P1 in the championship and carve his name into the trophy like his brother did so many times.

He wanted to have his own trophy in their house, next to his, championship celebration helmet and his championship winning bike.

He wanted it to be the NR 73. Not 93. Not this year. Not when he was so close.

So if it took studying data and the next track till late and night just to wake up at the crack of dawn to go for a run, then by God, he would do it.

He would do it.

He would take the championship away from his own brother

For once he was okay with working in that Italian pricks favor. If it was him protecting Rossi's record, he'd be fine with if because for once he decided to be selfish. He decided to be just as much of a selfish asshole as his brother. He decided that from now on, they weren't brother on track. He decided to act the same as Marc always had.

No way back.

He felt his eyes burning, a reminder of all the work he put in and squeezed the can in his hand a little tighter.

He knew at the end of the year, a Marquez would put his name on that trophy. But this time it was up to him, which one it would be and Alex wouldn't let this chance slip away.

Not now. Not when he was so close.

Marc watched him from afar. He watched how he put on his running gear in the evening, just like he had done in the morning. He'd take the dogs out for a run, he had said.

Marc had just nodded even if he wondered how many runs their little legs could stand if Alex continued like that.

He saw how tired Alex was and he saw how Alex ignored his own needs. He didn't like that. He hated that. He wanted to wrap his baby brother up in a blanket, make him food and let him fall asleep on the couch, like they did when they were kids.

But now he couldn't because he knew Alex was working towards a goal that sometimes took inconvenience as a payment. And as hungry Marc was for success, a part of him needed to see his brother's work pay off.

As a brother, he wanted to see Alex on top. He wanted him to take care of himself and he wanted him to win.

But as a rider, he knew he'd always work against Alex ambitions so no matter what he'd say to him, the younger one wouldn't listen.

[obsidianstrawberrymilk]

Jin guangyao

Oooohhhhhhh

favorite thing about them - his silly little habit of making things Worse for himself whenever he's accused of doing something. He always manages to say the absolute worst thing for those circumstances and it's amazing. "you heard him A-Ling I might do something scary :)" "A-Song had to die" "Sorry I insulted ur dad no I'm not talking about the dead soldiers even though that's what ur mad about" babe. Darling. Sweetheart. Get a defense attorney.

least favorite thing about them - his dad.

favorite line - "Jin Guangyao looked steadily at him. Then, as if he’d finally made up his mind—and in the same moment, given up on something—he calmly replied, “Yes.” He raised his head high, his expression proud, frank, and faintly insane in equal proportion. “I am, of course, different from them!”" It's such an interesting line for this conversation specifically and I could talk about Nieyao and their different perceptions of themselves and other people for hours and hours. Or "“Of all the evil in the world, what haven’t I done?!… But I’ve never even thought of harming you!”" Mmmm. Mmmm. Xiyao thoughts forever.

brOTP - him and Su Minshan/Su She, lmfao. Henchman of all time! They're buddies and I like it. JGY babe SMS wants to be ur defense attorney so bad please let him you need it. That or him and Xue Yang because their dynamic in Villainous Friends is lovely to me. Babysitter of all time truly. Orrrrrrrr him and Jin Ling because!! I think about them so much!! Because when push comes to shove he IS willing to risk Jin Ling and it's so!! He loved him!! But he was also willing to take him hostage and maybe feed him to zombies (whether or not you think JL was in danger is up to you, I guess, but there was a level of 'he might die' JGY was clearly willing to assume even if that wasn't the outcome he expected or wanted) when it came to his own safety and it's so!!

OTP - 3zun or Qinyao!! Unfortunately he can never be happy as both are doomed but shrugs. They're so compelling and I think the dual tragedies going on with 3zun and the way that had they not been responsibility gendered it genuinely may have worked and every choice taken which I think haunts all 3 of them until they each die is so fun. With Qinyao it's just... JGY really can never be happy. Xuanli but Worse. He finds a person who's not only willing to fight for him but ready and able to do so, who he loves back, and then... she's his sister. And he can't tell her because she's already pregnant! Like! His life sucks! I'm insane about them.

nOTP - no one really? I guess him and Wei Wuxian for the sole reason I think he might kill him in his sleep the fifth time he fucks with his perfectly planned banquets.

random headcanon - The only person he's ever talked to about Meng Shi was Jin Ling as a child. Never by name, of course, and just barely, but Jin Ling wanted memories of a mother and was distraught for whatever reasons and, well, he was young enough he wasn't likely to remember it in a few years. It was a casual memory, like eating a specific food or going to a festival with her.

unpopular opinion - Hm. I mean I guess that I don't think he's like. A master manipulator? In CQL maybe but in novel canon he's sort of just reacting to what goes on around him as best he can. The only 'master manipulator' thing he really does is fucking up Cleansing drive NMJ to Qi deviation faster, which could have been found out very quickly if someone was paying enough attention considering WWX, who does not play the guqin, noticed it. Beyond that? He didn't mean to get JZX killed, killing JGS was very much emotional, I just... he's smart, definitely, but he doesn't seem like a master manipulator to me lol. No one in MDZS is.

song i associate with them - god I am SO bad at this. London Beckoned Songs About Money Written by Machines by P!ATD. In an alternate musician AU or something this is him in a way. Tbh just the general vibe reminds me of him - panicked, outsider, trying hard to prove yourself to a world which will call for your downfall with as quick a switch as anything.

favorite picture of them

Thisss like after LXC agrees to die with him it's just. Ooooooh it's so tasty. Mmm.

[oonajaeadira]

I said during quarantine that I wasn't going back to this life

Came off a show in April, immediately started to build a piece for a one-off fundraiser in early May. Then had one day to memorize a script and launch into rehearsals for the one-off show I'm doing on Monday. While also researching the shit out of the subject of my next big show in prep for workshops this Thursday.

Exhausted. Missing my Pedro girlies.

I just got a comment on one of my pieces over at AO3. I mean, I'm not over there a lot but when I read "come back </3" I almost bust out in tears.

I miss writing.

I really wanted to get some stuff done around the house tonight but the SO wanted to watch Andor. While it wasn't the most productive night, it was the rest I kinda needed.

I'm really hoping that all the prep I'm doing for this next show is gonna pay off and mean I'm not burning all ends of candles in June/July.

When I talked to my cardiologist, she told me that it was okay to put my surgery off until September when I wasn't so busy and stressed. I was like, "are you sure? The stress isn't gonna knock me out?" and she's like, "nah, you've got a good pump. As long as you get enough sleep and time to exercise, you'll be fine." And I'm like

So now I gotta make time for that too I guess.

Here I am in my little corner, spinning time out of starlight and yearning for a man with brown eyes and big hands...

[hp-debates-ramblings]

You are... Making assumptions about my life for thinking teenagers fighting on the right side is braver and more courageous than an adult who decides that maybe an innocent baby should be saved bc that's what the woman he's in fatuated with would want and then spends the next 14 or so years bullying anyone who wasn't in Slytherin?

Also, yeah, going into protests is brave. I don't know why your making it seem like it's not. It is. Maybe it could be classified as stupid (dunno what protest ur marching and whatnot) or something but ur still brave for doing that.

But uhh you shouldn't make assumptions about some one bc they think something about a character.

That's like saying if you make a fic about kidnapping, ur a kidnapper. Or if ur mc cheats on someone it's cause u do it too etc etc

Real stupid, inaccurate and puts your whole argument down the drain. Not that I really get what the point of ur argument is.

You first said Snape was braver than some kid who knocked Lily up. And for one, that was not why I called him brave. For another, in HP ur an adult after 17 so they weren't even underage.

Nd I hate James so I told you other people who were plenty braver than Snape imho.

And so you... Decided I was some sort of screwed anti poor people stuck up kid?

And as I said, James' bare minimum was not what he did. Which should matter much bc Snape was doing more than just not the bare minimum. But didn't you say that points to morality?

James' bare minimum was being neutral and quiet. He was not in any danger. He could have just stayed home and had his fun or played quidditch or whatever. Him coming out against the DE was his courage. Was his good morality and the very opposite of stuck up rich guy with everything handed to him. He did more than he had to. Completely more than he had to. Infinitely more than he had to.

Which people forget bc he was a good guy doing good stuff.

Harry fighting Voldemort is a bare minimum bc what else could he really do? Ron doing so isn't the bare minimum bc he and the rest of the Weasley's could have not participated.

And James could have done that to. He wasn't in danger until he actively stood against the death eaters. Actually he was safe until he refused to become a death eater. But he was a pure blood. A rich one. His home would have been protected by all sorts of spells. He'd just have to stay in there. He could have stuck a bet with Voldemort. In fact he could have been Mate I don't want to be in the middle of this and just left. It would have worked. He would have been fine.

Minus not becoming death eaters when Voldy told them to (bc he didn't tell them to), the Weasley's were neutral/inactive. Yeah Molly's brothers fought. But she and her husband didn't. And the family (those who didn't fight) were safe.

Not saying everyone who didn't fight were safe in either of the wars but James could have absolutely not fought and stayed perfectly well.

But he chose to fight. When he had a choice, itnwasn the bare minimum. It was the flinging high max and he did it

What even does the maximum even feel like to you? There was little anyone was doing other than:

Neutral/inactive

With Voldy

Against Voldy

This was the three options. And James chose the most deadly one. He had all three available. Hed have been fine j going back in Voldy after the war. He was rich like the Malfoys.

He chose to give up his peace and comfort and ease and fight. Not one bit bare minimum. And not one bit less than what Lily or Sirius or Remus or Snape had to offer to anyone. Not any less than what Harry or Ginny or Luna had to offer. He didn't chose the easy part.

He chose the most dangerous thing. He did more than the others bc his bare minimum was being inactive. His options were just sleeping while people died. Or killing them. Or doing less active resisting (knot that there were any) he could have made a fortune from the things he could make or take over his dad's business or make a name for himself as a Quidditch played or through transfiguration or just sit and live in the massive wealth he had.

He fought. He did not have to. It was not bare minimum. He was way braver than Snape bc he had options. Snape did too. He chose wrong. But not fighting in a war as a 18 or 19 year old wouldn't have made him wrong or a coward. But he chose to fight. To actively go against the guy who couldn't really hurt him much if he just went Nope lol I've got better things to do than get hurt and nearly die everyday.

I think Severus was one of the bravest characters in the series

🐣

[dawnthefluffyduck]

One minute til' midnight (more design-accurate sketches below)

Yeah y'all know the drill by now, this fine specimen from this wonderful story by @patchwork-crow-writes

[mariyekos]

Thoughts on the new DMC trailer?

Going to be honest I haven't watched any trailers since the trailer at the Game Awards (or whichever one I have those 2 breakdown posts for) 😅 I keep seeing the trailer announcements when I don't have my headphones on me, and I've been behind on watching them once I have the time... maybe tomorrow I'll finally get to watching them! Tonight I'm dead tired so I don't think I'd be in much of a good mood and I don't want to start off on the wrong foot, so to speak. When I watch them I can make a write up on it though! Would probably be fun.

[daydream-the-demon]

I'm the [tumblr] person who overuses comments in tags.

[tumblr] autosaved my tags even though I used them once.

Look in the tags and have a laugh.

(Possible tag game?) @author-of-the-year @jenumarts @thonethatflies620 @iamunabletothinkofablogname @ all my mutuals

[peytonhayes]

Peyton couldn't help but smirk at him. "You'd be fine." The words were simple, but there was depth to her words. It felt like a fact. Despite having felt so certain, deep to her core, that her father was this sturdy figure who would always be in her life— until he wasn't — there was this unshakable knowledge that Tyson would be a constant. He had to be. At least for her own sanity given that he often felt like the only real person in her life. While she was surrounded by people continuously, both the faceless figures across the bar or the demons in her sleep, he was often the one person she truly saw.

But she also believed that he had nine lives. Or maybe it was just brownie points for doing such good by saving lives.

"Plus scars are hot."

She tipped her bottle towards him in a mock 'you're welcome' as if she'd be aiding him with his non-existent (so she suspected) dating life.

"Stake knife, huh? Better than a gun, I suppose." He was alive so it seemed better than many things. Her grimace was all she replied about the sushi and she pouted slightly at the cat. She was an animal lover in all its forms, plus she could relate to cats on a deeper level. "The cat is good. Company and all." She wanted that for him, even if it came in the form of a tail and purrs.

What she wasn't prepared for was the seriousness of his tone that made her shift uncomfortably, and she suddenly felt translucent. As if he could see exactly what she hid, but there was no shock there as they both shared that.

"I think there's a lot of truth we can tell each other. But I'm also avoiding going up there." She wouldn't be alone. A bottle, some crappy tv show, maybe she'd manage to call someone to come over, but the truth was that she'd likely pass out before that.

"As long as you don't ask for it in return, I'm all ears." She didn't know if she could open up fully, ask more of him when he'd already done so much for her. But she would gladly listen and carry his torment until her last day, and perhaps maybe, she could find a way to shine whatever light she had left towards him.

"I'm asking, Ty."

Tyson caught the beer she handed him with a quiet thanks, cracking the cap with a thumb and a flick of his wrist, the hiss of carbonation punctuating the silence between her landing and her question. He took a sip, leaning his hip against the bar, watching her with a softness that didn’t quite make it to his words. “Dodgy medic, huh?” He tilted his bottle in mock salute. “Guess I’ll take my chances with it. Though if they screw up the stitching, I’m blaming you.”

The joke came easy, but the weight behind her words—about carrying herself to bed, the obligation in her voice—lingered. He knew better than to poke directly at it. Knew that kind of exhaustion. Knew what it looked like to wake up inside a life you never really chose and then keep going out of guilt anyway. So when she asked what was new, he didn’t answer right away.

He tapped the neck of the bottle lightly against the bar. “New?” he echoed, like the word itself had dust on it. “Let’s see… I stitched up a guy who swore he fell on a steak knife twice. I ate gas station sushi at two in the morning and didn’t die. And I think my neighbor’s cat has decided we’re roommates now. So, you know… the usual.”

He glanced at her, one brow arched. “You really wanna ask me that, or are you just hoping if you keep me talking long enough you won’t have to climb up there again?” A beat. Then quieter, “’Cause I can give you the truth if you’re actually askin’.”

He didn’t say I’ve been running on fumes, or some nights I don’t remember the last time I ate a real meal, or I’m pretty sure I don’t know who I am when I’m not saving someone else’s life.