#i would apologize but we all know i’ll do it again but stupider

[izzystizzys]

The war doesn’t end with a bang, strictly speaking. It doesn’t even end with a political forum, or peace talks, or a slow, wheezing death of the Banking Clan’s pockets running dry, even though all of those are valid possibilities. Some more than others, Cody has to admit.

No, the war ends with an article in the Galaxy’s least reputable news source, Coruscant Rotational. Splashed on the front page for all to see is Cody’s little brother, next to the Chancellor.

CLONE MEWS CHANCELLOR TO DEATH IN MOGGING MOVE FOR THE AGES - LOOKSMAXXING TAKEN TOO FAR?

“What”, says Obi-Wan, eye twitching, fingers massaging over the bridge of his nose at double their usual speed, a real sign of an impending nervous breakdown if Cody’s ever seen one, “the kriff does that even mean?!”

Rex shrugs helplessly with one shoulder, other arm raised aimlessly. “No idea, General. I only understand about half those words. Maybe we’re all having a collective stroke? Maybe Fox is having a stroke? Whatever he’s doing with his jaw in that picture can’t be healthy.”

“Well, not for the late Chancellor, anyways”, says Cody flatly, in the long-suffering tone of one who’s seen too much Jedi banthashit in too little time. He screws his eyes tightly shut, scrubbing the backs of his knuckles in hard enough to see galaxies explode. Nope, still the same words on that datapad.

“It can’t be true”, says Skywalker, who’d gone white as a shitty military-issue sheet and has been steadily pacing the room ever since the equivalent of a sonic bomb hit the room. “I mean - think about it, this could just as well be a Separatist ploy, it would play right into their hands, and Coruscant Rotational isn’t exactly the most reputable source -“

“True enough”, says Obi-Wan, thoughtfully. “They do like getting their facts mixed up. In fact, I’ve seen about six articles just this month proclaiming our dear friend Senator Amidala’s super secret pregnancy. They even falsified hospital records, can you imagine?!”

Somehow, Skywalker loses another shade of colour, gulping soundlessly, and resumes his pacing more frenetically than before. Weird guy, that.

It’s Rex who breaks the awkward stillness of the room, perking up suddenly. “Oh, I know! Why don’t we call in Commander Tano?! She’s about the right age to understand some of this dribble, right?”

“I was going to suggest calling Corrie HQ, but sure, let’s ask the teenage soldier from the space monk order who spends all her spare time hunting your legion for sport”, says Cody, dryly. Rex deflates, and Thorn’s tinny voice sounds through Cody’s comm before he can make his reply. “Marshall Commander, I assume this is about the News.” Ominous capitalisation, ooooh, mouths Rex, and receives the nearest datapad Cody can reach to the face for his troubles with a squawk. The fact that he can read that sentence off his lips means their legions have spent far too much time together, and also that Cody’s grown soft in his old age.

“Good to hear you too, Thorn, and yes, we do have some questions concerning why the kriff my vod’ika is accused of murdering the chancellor through what I can only assume is some secret Sith magic?!”

“Oh, you mean when he defeated the actual Sith on the Senate through the power of his superior mog and made the kriffer explode in a thousand wrinkly pieces? You’re welcome, by the way”, says Thorn, instead of literally anything sane.

“Commander”, begs Cody’s General, with something glistening that might actually be tears in his eyes. “Commander, please. I do not understand any of those words. I am begging you to put me out of my misery.”

PALPATINE??? SITH?????!!!, screams Skywalker in battlesign, somehow spelling out each individual question and exclamation mark.

“It’s a game we’ve started playing in the Guard, sir, to pass time on patrol”, says Thorn, sheepishly, cowed by nearly driving the High General Kenobi to tears. “We’d do stupid faces we found the holonet, and, uh - well Fox is so high on black-market morphine most of the time cause we don’t get bacta that he sleepwalks on assignment sometimes, and, uh, he started making them at the Chancellor during a holocall meeting with Count Dooku and then the Chancellor tried to electrocute him again but accidentally blew himself up-“

“Breathe, Commander”, says Obi-Wan, and then - “That is SO much information I don’t know what to do with, Force preserve me. Why is Commander Fox on black-market morphine, or sleepwalking, or making faces at-“

“He signs reports in his sleep too, sometimes”, Thorn interrupts the General. “It’s actually kind of impressive if, y’know, it didn’t make Stabby bust another capillary in pure rage.”

“Who’s Stabby?”, asks Obi-Wan, confused.

“Meeting with Count Dooku?!”, bursts out Skywalker.

“Congratulations on Amidala’s pregnancy, General Skywalker”, says Thorn, like a man who wants to see the world burn.

[inkedinshadows]

Nights and Days

Pairing: Azriel × reader

Summary: Azriel and Y/N are on a mission in Illyria, but as they move from one camp to another, they’re caught in a blizzard and are forced to find shelter in the nearest inn. Thanks to the shadowsinger, there's only one bed.

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v, just a sprinkle of shadow play, language, lots of witty banter

Word count: 6.3k

A/N: this is my first time writing smut, so I'd really appreciate it if you let me know what you think 🥺

Groups of rebels had begun to appear all over Illyria, claiming that Rhys was not a good High Lord, that a low-born bastard was not suited to be their general, and that training their women was nothing more than a waste of time.

After two weeks of diplomacy that led to absolutely nothing, Rhys had dispatched the Inner Circle to deal with the rebels. Mor and Amren had stayed in Velaris to make sure nothing happened, but the others had been sent out to Illyria. And Y/N had been paired up with Azriel.

They were flying from one war camp to the next—Y/N trying to focus on anything other than Azriel holding her close as he flew—when it started to snow.

“Is it safe to keep going?” she asked him, glancing at his beautiful wings flapping behind him.

“Would you rather I land now? In the middle of nowhere?” Azriel looked down at her with a little smirk on his face. “Give me some credit, Y/N. I can handle a little snow.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot you’re a big, tough Illyrian warrior. My bad.”

He didn't answer, but she didn't need to look at him to know he was still smirking. That annoyingly attractive smirk always made her want to kiss him. She focused on the forest below, on anything other than his lips and how close they’d be if she would just turn her head his way.

They flew in silence for just a few more minutes before the snow began to fall more heavily. Y/N simply looked at Azriel with a raised eyebrow, not bothering to use words.

“You’re insufferable, you know that?” he said when he noticed her expression, but there was a hint of amusement in his voice. “Camp is not that far. We can still make it.”

“Azriel, did you wake up this morning and just decided to be stupid?” She pointed at the grey sky above them, where more clouds were gathering with the promise of more snow to come. “You see that, right? It’s already late and we both know it’ll only get worse. We won’t reach the next camp before it turns into a blizzard. Besides, I’m freezing my ass off out here.”

His only answer was a low chuckle. “Oh, yeah? The poor princess is freezing her little ass off?”

She smacked him on the shoulder. “My ass is anything but little, shadowsinger. Shouldn’t you find us a shelter or something, instead of making fun of me?”

“Said the one who just called me stupid,” he pointed out. He lifted a brow, flashing her another one of those smirks. “Maybe you should apologize for that, and I might think about landing somewhere.”

She cocked her head, unsure if he was messing around or not. “I refuse to apologize for telling the truth. And you’d better land soon, or I’ll kick your ass when you do.”

Azriel’s laugh echoed in her ears, and it took all her focus not to smile just at that sound she so rarely got to hear. “As if you could actually kick my ass.”

If her arms hadn’t been wrapped around his neck, she would have crossed them over her chest. Or maybe she would have used them to strangle him, if only it wouldn't mean they'd fall out of the sky. Eventually, she settled to roll her eyes again. “Azriel, I’m being serious.”

Though she enjoyed their usual banter and she knew as well as everyone that she could never kick his ass, she hadn’t lied. Even with her Illyrian leathers, she was starting to freeze out there in the snow, and there was no way they would reach their destination without being caught in a full-blown blizzard.

“Relax. Despite what you think, Y/N, I’m not stupid.” He gestured to something below them just as she opened her mouth to protest. “It’s an inn. You would have noticed it already, if only you hadn’t been so busy complaining.”

“Shut up,” she grumbled, squinting to see through the trees and the snow. But as Azriel glided down, she finally saw it. It was a rather large building for an inn in the middle of the woods—many Illyrians probably passed through it—so there was a high chance of finding a couple of rooms to spend the night in.

Azriel landed and gently set her on the ground. Together, they headed for the door and were welcomed inside by the warmth of a fire in the corner of the room. She shook the snow off her hair as she took in their surroundings—a few tables full of Illyrian warriors, most of them drinking and laughing quite loudly.

“We ran out of double rooms.” The innkeeper looked at them as they approached, apparently too bored to even bother with greetings. “But we’ve still got a few single ones.”

Before she could tell him that two rooms were perfect, Azriel was already answering. “We need only one, actually.”

Next thing she knew, he had grabbed her hand and was leading her up the stairs, a key now clutched in his fingers. She waited for the door to close behind them before she turned to him with a frown. “What the hell was that? Why only one room?”

Azriel tossed his pack on the floor and replied as if the answer was obvious. “The hall was packed with drunk Illyrians.”

“So?”

He looked at her then, and she couldn’t quite understand what she saw in his eyes. Was it concern? Or frustration because she still didn’t realize something he thought was so simple?

“I’m not letting you sleep in another room alone, when a bunch of drunk Illyrians have just seen you, probably the only female here, walk in.”

Well, that was not what she expected. But as she thought it over, she couldn’t deny he had a point. She was able to hold her own in a fight, just not against fully trained warriors, and she didn't want to take any risk, especially when it was just one night.

Not knowing what to answer, she looked around the room, which consisted of only one bed and a small dresser—lame and boring, but it would do. Except for the one single bed.

She watched as Azriel sat on an old rug, the only decoration there was. “And what are you doing now, exactly?”

He shrugged, with that same expression that seemed to tell her the answer was obvious. “I'll take the floor, you take the bed.”

She almost laughed at that. “You can't sleep on the floor, not with your wings. I'll do it.”

“I'll be fine,” he replied, and extended his wings behind him as if to prove it. “Why would you want to sleep on the floor anyway?”

“Because I don't want you to do it,” she answered matter-of-factly. “Now get your ass off that floor, shadowsinger.”

Azriel did no such thing and instead leaned back against the wall and extended his legs in front of him. Her gaze dropped to his thighs, the muscles shifting with the movement.

“Why would I do that? It's comfortable here.”

She looked up again, her arms crossed over her chest. “It's not and you know it.”

Both of them too stubborn to give in, they glared at each other. She made no move to sit on the bed, and he made no move to get up. They probably could have spent hours like this, but she couldn't stand the idea of Azriel sleeping on a half-consumed rug, even if it meant she'd do it.

“You wouldn't want to face the rebels with a sore body tomorrow, would you?” she tried, hoping it'd make him think straight.

“I've slept on the ground before, I'll be fine. Big, tough Illyrian warrior, remember?” His lips twitched up, and amusement glinted in his hazel eyes. “Just take the bed, Y/N. We have a long day ahead of us.”

“Which is exactly why you should sleep on the bed, Az,” she snapped before taking a deep breath and speaking more calmly. “I'm just the backup. It doesn't matter if I'm sore.”

“It matters to me.”

His words hung heavily in the air, and she swallowed, not sure how to react to them or to the fervor in his voice. There was an intensity in his eyes that she’d never seen before and, unable to his gaze any longer, she blinked.

“You’re not going to budge, are you?” she asked with a sigh, her arms falling back to her sides.

“No.” And there it was again, that teasing grin she usually wanted to kiss. Right now, though, she felt more like punching him for his stubbornness. It outmatched even her own. “So I suggest you listen and take the bed. You need some rest.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Oh, and you don't?”

This time, it was his turn to sigh and roll his eyes at her. “Y/N, I’ll be fine. I’ve slept in worse conditions, and it’s only just one night anyway.”

And yet, the thought of him sleeping on that rug while she was all comfortable on the bed didn’t sit right with her. Just like her well-being mattered to him, his mattered to her. Maybe it was because he’d admitted it, or because he’d rather sleep on the floor than let her stay in another room when the place was full of Illyrians. Or maybe she was just trying to find some kind of excuse, but the words were out before she could think better of them.

“Sleep on the bed. With me.”

Azriel’s eyes widened, and she immediately regretted even thinking about it. “I beg your pardon?”

“I mean… it’s just…” she stuttered, her cheeks heating up as she looked away. What a huge mistake she’d just made. Just because he cared about her didn’t mean he’d want to share a bed with her. What was she even thinking? “I know it’s small and there’s not much space, but I just… I thought it’d still be more comfortable than the floor… you know?” Her voice trailed off, and she stared down at her feet.

Deafening silence filled the room, and then Azriel finally spoke, his tone cautious. “And that’s all you were asking?”

She frowned, not sure what else she might have been asking. But she quickly realized what words she had used and how that could potentially sound like something more than an offer to share the bed. Sleep on the bed. With me. Cauldron, she was so stupid. Her face turned an even deeper shade of red. When was the last time she had blushed?

“No, I wasn’t— that’s not what I—” She couldn’t get the words out, and it didn’t help that her mind was now wandering toward certain scenarios that involved the two of them, a bed, and very little clothing. She turned away from him and mumbled, “Whatever.”

“I think this is the first time I've ever seen you speechless.” There was amusement in his voice, and she knew the asshole was smirking once more. “You should watch your word choice if that’s not what you intended to ask.”

“Yeah, I know. Sorry,” she murmured as she reached for her pack, but when she took her nightgown out, she realized there was no place to go to get changed. How was she supposed to change in front of him after such an embarrassing mistake? So instead, she delayed the moment she’d have to do it by trying to explain again. “It wasn’t my intention to imply anything. It came out wrong.”

She could feel his eyes on her as he answered. “I noticed. What was your intention, then?”

The look she gave him was one of annoyance. He knew exactly what her intention was, and he just liked to mess with her. She glared at him for a moment before she replied, “I meant what I said. I don’t want you to sleep on that rug, and you don’t want me to do it either. So, the only other option is that we share the bed.”

“Mh, I see.” His lips tugged up in a self-satisfied grin that just made her want to hit him to see it disappear. Not that she could hit him even if she really wanted to. Azriel would block her blow with little effort. But how could she have ever wanted to kiss him?

“So sleeping next to me is the only option?” he added.

“You know what?” she snapped, gesturing to the rug where he was still sitting like it was the most comfortable place he’d ever been. “I changed my mind. Sleep on the floor. I don’t care.”

He chuckled. Chuckled. Cauldron boil her.

She turned her back on him and, without giving it any second thought, she began undressing. She hadn’t realized how warm the Illyrian leathers were until she shivered as soon as she took them off.

“It seems like you’re cold,” Azriel drawled from behind her.

“I’m not,” she replied. She put on her nightgown and sought refuge under the covers. “Not for long, anyway.”

How was Azriel going to spend the night on a rug, without a blanket? When he didn’t answer, she considered maybe asking him one last time to share the bed. Out of the goodness of her heart, she supposed.

But then Azriel spoke again, amusement clear in his voice. And the goodness of her heart be damned.

“You're cold, aren't you?”

She sighed, wrapping the blanket tighter around her body. “No.”

“Liar.”

“Prick.”

“I'm the prick? You're the one who suggested we should share the bed.”

Y/N resisted the urge to turn on her side and face him. Maybe it was stupid and childish of her, but she kept lying with her back to him. “I don't see how that makes me a prick, Az. Besides, you're the one who made fun of me because of it, which means you're the prick here.”

His voice still carried a sense of playfulness as he answered. “I made fun of you because you stumbled over your words like a fool. It was quite amusing, to be honest.”

Instead of replying, she slid a hand out from under the blanket and flipped him off over her shoulder. As she hid it again and curled up in the bedsheets, Azriel’s soft laugh made her smile despite herself.

She heard some noise and, assuming he was getting changed and ready for the night, she closed her eyes. But her mind was running wild.

Images of his hands on her. Of her hands on him. Their lips touching, first tenderly, then passionately. Their bodies pressed together as pleasure overcame them. All scenarios she had never let herself fully consider before, now evoked by Azriel's misunderstanding of her words. Scenarios she now knew for sure would never happen if the way he'd teased her for even suggesting sharing the bed was any indication.

“Make room for me?”

His voice was so close to her that she started, her head snapping around to find him standing next to the bed. He had taken off his leathers and was now wearing loose pants and a shirt. His wings were tucked in tight behind him—those beautiful wings that she knew were bigger than Cassian's and Rhysand's. She still wasn't sure she should believe Mor about the correlation between an Illyrian's wingspan and other body parts.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you,” he added with a small smile.

“You and your absurdly silent steps,” she grumbled, but she was already moving to the other side of the bed.

Only that there wasn’t exactly an ‘other side’, not when the bed was barely big enough for both of them. As Azriel slipped under the sheets, she found herself with her back pressed against his chest. His familiar scent of night-chilled mist and cedar filled her senses, and his warmth seeped through her, chasing away the remnants of the cold that even the blanket hadn’t yet managed to rid her of.

“Tell me you don’t move a lot when you sleep,” she said as he settled behind her. “Because if you push me off, I’ll make you regret not staying on that rug.”

His laugh skittered down her back. “You always have something to say, don't you?”

“I promise you, the moment there will be nothing to say, I will shut up,” she replied with a chuckle.

Silence fell and Y/N nestled more against his side. She just couldn't help it. Feeling him so close, their bodies pressing together... it was intoxicating, and she wanted to stay like that forever. She hesitated a moment, and then she decided that she might as well do it: grabbing his arm, she wrapped it around her waist and laced their fingers together, their intertwined hands resting against her stomach. Azriel tensed behind her, and she thought he might pull away, but he didn’t. Instead, he released a deep breath that tickled the back of her neck.

“I would never let you fall off the bed,” he murmured. His voice was so close to her ear that it almost made her shiver. And as if to show he really meant what he said, Azriel draped his wings around her.

Y/N suddenly had a lump in her throat. Being enveloped in his wings was somehow more intimate than lying so close to each other. “Glad to hear it,” was all she could think about. After a second, she added in a whisper, “And thank you for not letting me sleep alone.”

Azriel’s arm tightened around her waist, his breath warm against her neck. When he spoke, she could tell by his tone alone that he wanted to say more than just, “You're welcome.” She didn't push him though. He'd tell her when and if he decided to.

She closed her eyes and tried to fall asleep, letting the sound of the blizzard outside lull her, but with Azriel holding her it was nearly impossible. Wrapped in his arms and wings, she felt safe and protected. Everything else seemed to disappear until it was just the two of them in their small cocoon.

“Can you turn over?”

Her eyes opened at his question, but she didn't move. To face him would mean being only inches away from him. She didn't trust herself to be that close to him. To his lips.

“Why?”

“Just turn over, Y/N,” he whispered. “Please.”

It was the vulnerability in his voice—the barely audible ‘please’—that had her giving in. She had never heard him say it before, not like that.

But as she complied, her face was even closer to his than she'd anticipated. Their noses were almost touching, and she made a point not to let her gaze drop to his lips.

Azriel didn't say anything. They stared into each other's eyes for a few moments or maybe an hour—Y/N didn't know. The one thing she knew was that her heart was beating faster in her chest, and it only got worse when he brushed her cheek, his touch gentle and soft. She smiled, and the movement caused his gaze to dip to her mouth. She waited for him to look up again, but he didn't.

Her smile turned into a little smirk. “Are you just going to stare at my lips all night, or do you plan to actually do something about it?”

Azriel looked at her again, and though he tried to look annoyed, she could see a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Why do you always have to make such quick-witted comments?”

“Shut up and kiss me,” she replied before she even knew what she was saying. She didn't regret it though, because he did it.

And the world shrank till there was just Azriel.

His lips were soft against hers, warm and inviting. His hand moved from her cheek to the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her hair as he pulled her closer. She melted against him, opening up for his tongue to slip inside, tasting her slowly, almost reverently. Her heart was beating so fast it might have jumped out of her chest.

She'd wanted this to happen for the longest time, and now that it was real, the leash she'd kept on herself vanished. Every feeling, every emotion she'd stifled for so long, now rushed to the surface like a tidal wave.

What had started as a tender kiss soon turned into something passionate and greedy. She whimpered softly against his lips, and her hands began to make their way down to the hem of his shirt.

“Y/N.” Azriel's whisper stopped her as she looked into his eyes. She could see her own need reflected there. “Are you sure about this?”

“I don't look sure enough to you?” She raised an eyebrow. “Maybe next time I should just send you a note and—”

Azriel silenced her with another kiss. “You and your sarcastic answers,” he murmured with a smile.

Y/N giggled and cupped his cheek, brushing her thumb against his lips. “I mean it, Az,” she said, her tone softer now. “I'm sure about it.”

“Good.” He pulled her flush against him as his hands roamed down her back. “Because if I start, I don't think I could stop.”

“Good,” she repeated before she kissed him again.

Y/N tugged on his shirt, and they parted long enough for her to take it off, though it took a bit of struggle to undo the clasps on his back and free his wings. She'd seen him shirtless before, mostly when he was training—he was a real feast for the eye—but now she got to touch him, to run her hands across his torso and feel him shudder. His mouth descended on her neck in response, leaving a trail of wet kisses while his hands gripped her backside.

“You were right, princess,” he murmured, his breath hot against her skin. “Your ass is definitely not little.”

She chuckled as he kneaded it. “Told you.”

Azriel hummed, planting one last kiss on her neck before he shifted position and Y/N found herself pressed down on the mattress, the shadowsinger now on top of her. As she pulled him closer for their lips to meet yet again, his hands caressed her legs, trailing up her thighs and slipping under her nightgown.

She held her breath as he brushed past her panties, lingering just long enough to make her shiver. He then moved up her body, causing the fabric to rise and reveal her soft flesh.

Y/N broke the kiss, a small sigh leaving her lips when Azriel’s hands reached her breasts. He smiled at the sound, and as their eyes met, his gaze was so full of desire that her core clenched.

She wanted him. She needed him.

Before she could reach between them to push down his pants, Azriel gently stopped her by grabbing her wrists, sensing what her intention was. “Not yet,” he murmured.

She frowned. A slight tug was all it took for him to release her hands, though she didn't try to undress him again. “Why not?”

And there it was again, that smirk. But now, with him on top of her, both of them half naked, she didn't simply want to kiss it. No, she wanted do all the things she'd never let herself consider.

“Because I want to see you first, princess.”

Azriel was already pushing her nightgown up, but as usual, she couldn't keep her mouth shut. “So it's official? You're calling me princess now? You've never done that before.”

He looked down at her with so much desire that it seemed to set her body on fire. “I've never been about to fuck you before,” he answered, his voice low and sultry.

Her thighs clenched together, but before she could come up with a response, Azriel removed her nightgown. Her skin was already so heated she barely felt the bite of the cool air, and it was completely forgotten when he ran his hands all over her body, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“You're so beautiful,” he whispered as he leaned down to take one of her nipples in his warm mouth, a soft moan escaping her as she shivered.

Her fingers tangled in his hair to keep him close, and she arched against him when his tongue flicked out to tease her.

“And you're so responsive,” he murmured. Hooking a scarred finger into the waistband of her panties, he pulled them down her legs. The scent of her arousal wafted through the room as Azriel nudged her legs open and settled in between them.

Y/N was about to tell him to hurry, her need to feel him against and inside her now almost overwhelming. But she couldn’t form the words, not as Azriel pushed his hips against hers and she felt the evidence of his own arousal pressing hard against her wet core.

His hands caressed her sides, her ass, her thighs, and yet he never touched her where she needed it most.

“Azriel…” she complained, eyes locked on him. She moved her hips to grind against his erection, seeking some sort of friction, and she was rewarded by his sharp inhale. But it still wasn't enough.

“Be patient, Y/N.” His mouth descended on her neck again, biting the soft spot where it met her shoulder. “I want to taste you first. I want to worship every inch of you.”

Even though she closed her eyes at his little nips, she shook her head. “Azriel, I appreciate it. I really do. But you have no idea how long I've waited for this.” Her breath hitched when his tongue swirled around her nipple again. “We can leave the worshipping for later. I need you now.”

“You need me, uh?” He kissed her other breast, and she bucked her hips against him once more. “And you've waited a long time for this?”

Y/N looked at him again, her fingers still clutching his hair. She nodded and realized her mistake too late—a new mischievous gleam entered Azriel's hazel eyes.

His lips trailed down her stomach and toward her belly button. Each kiss sent a shiver right to her core. “Then you can wait a little longer.”

She groaned, her patience now at its limit. “Azriel, you—”

A gasp cut her off as he licked a stripe up her dripping folds. She couldn't tell who moaned first when Azriel tasted her once more, his tongue flicking over her clit.

Her fingers tightened in his black curls and her head fell back on the pillow. Azriel's lips closed around her clit and she clamped a hand on her mouth to keep quiet as he gently sucked on it.

His shadows began to slither up her body, their touch cool against her heated skin. Her breathing quickened and she had to hold back a moan when his tongue was replaced by a finger slowly sliding inside her folds.

But it didn't move. Azriel looked up at her and she wished she could somehow capture the picture: his head between her legs, those beautiful hazel eyes focused on her with an almost predatory intent.

“Don't go all quiet on me now, princess,” he murmured against her skin. “I want to hear all your pretty noises.”

A tendril of shadow brushed against her hand, and she removed it from her mouth. “Az, the other rooms—”

He curled his finger to hit that soft, spongy spot inside her that had her see stars, and she couldn't stop the moan that left her lips.

“I don't care if someone hears you.” His voice was a low, almost commanding growl. “Let them hear you. Let them know you're with me.”

She was about to answer, to tell him she wasn't sure she should, but Azriel added a second finger, and she lost all control, another small cry of pleasure slipping out.

Azriel seemed satisfied because his smirk reappeared. “If I had known this is all it took to put a stop on the witty comments, I would have done it a long time ago.”

Y/N wanted to make one of those very witty comments to prove him wrong, to show him she hadn't become helpless just because of how good he made her feel, but his tongue circled her clit again and Mother above, she was helpless.

“Do you want to come, princess?”

Unable to form even a coherent thought, all she could do was nod, her body on the brink of release as his fingers curled once more, drawing a moan from deep in her throat.

“Use your words, Y/N.”

“Yes… yes, please,” she panted.

But instead of keeping going, of driving her over that sweet, craved edge, Azriel placed a kiss to her inner thigh and slowly removed his fingers from her folds. He even moved away from her, standing up at the foot of the bed.

She groaned, pushing herself up on her elbows to glower at him. “Azriel, you get back here right now.”

He only grinned. “Ah, there she is.”

“If you're doing this just because you missed my comments, you should know that I—”

The words died on her tongue as soon as his hands swiftly undid the buttons of his pants. Her eyes followed his every movement as he pushed them down his legs, watching his muscles shift and his wings unfold ever so slightly to keep him balanced.

He wasn't wearing any underwear.

The realization caused her brain to stop working, and the sight of his naked body took her breath away. Maybe the rumors about Illyrian wingspans were true after all.

Her mouth dry, she swallowed before finally speaking again. “Azriel,” she repeated, her voice quivering with barely restrained desire. “Get back here right now.”

For once, he obliged without questioning, his grin wide.

Climbing onto the bed, he crawled up her body until his cock pressed against her entrance, her need for him now through the roof.

Their eyes met, and slowly—too slowly—Azriel pushed in, stretching her inch by delicious inch, both of them releasing a moan when he bottomed out, his hips flush against her.

“Fuck,” he groaned, the sound shooting straight down to her core. “Fuck, Y/N... you feel incredible.”

She had no words to describe how he felt inside her. ‘Incredible’ was an understatement, but her mind was too foggy to think of something else. The only thing she was sure of was that she needed him to move.

“Azriel,” she breathed as she wrapped her legs around him. He shuddered when she accidentally brushed his wings with her toes. “Please, move. Now.”

With his elbows on either side of her head, he leaned down to kiss her, pulling out almost all the way. “I love hearing you beg for it,” he whispered against her lips, and rocked back into her with a quick roll of his hips before she could even think of a response.

He didn’t even try to go slow, instead immediately setting a relentless pace that left her panting, but she didn’t mind. Every choked sound and breathless moan were swallowed by his kiss, their tongues swirling together. Her hands found their way into his hair, around his neck, down his back, and her nails scraped along his warm and slightly sweaty skin while he thrust into her, her hips rising to meet his.

Azriel’s own groans and whimpers were music to the ears, each of them bringing her closer to release. As if he knew her body well enough already, he seemed to sense it too, because his lips left hers to trail down her neck.

“That’s it, princess,” he praised. His clipped voice let her know he was probably trying to hold back his own impending orgasm. “Come for me.”

His shadows flew in the little space between their bodies to tease her clit, drawing a guttural groan from her. It was like nothing she’d ever felt before—cool against her hot skin, a barely-there touch that yet was enough to make her shudder and whine. But it was the uniqueness of it all that sent her toppling over the edge.

A loud cry broke from her as her vision blurred and her body tensed, her nails slightly digging into Azriel’s back while he slowed his thrusts to draw out her pleasure. But he soon resumed his punishing pace, his hips slamming into hers almost frantically, the sound of skin on skin filling the small room as he chased his own release.

She choked out his name right as he stilled, hot spurts of cum filling her, his last few moans muffled when she pulled him in for another desperate kiss.

They were both panting by the time they broke apart, but neither of them tried to move. Azriel still lay buried deep inside her, and simply rested his forehead against hers, a smile on his lips that mirrored her own.

Despite his heavy breaths, his brows raised as he asked playfully, “So was the wait worth it?”

“It was,” she answered with a chuckle. Her hands came up to cup his face, her thumbs brushing over his cheekbones. “You certainly know what you’re doing, shadowsinger.”

Wrong words.

“Is that so?” His grin only widened, and he gave another roll of his hips that dragged a groan from the back of her throat.

She slapped him on the shoulder, but her smile matched his. “Smug ass.”

Azriel's soft laugh tickled her cheek as he kissed it. Slowly, he pulled out of her, leaving her with a feeling of emptiness.

Not ready to let him go just yet, she curled up in his arms as soon as he lay down next to her. Azriel immediately embraced her, holding her close to his chest, their legs tangled.

A comfortable silence settled over them as they bathed in the afterglow of sex, interrupted only by their soft breathing and the blizzard still raging outside.

As the minutes passed, Y/N struggled to keep her eyes open, but she had always wanted to trace the swirling lines of Azriel's tattoos, and now she had her chance. Her fingers danced along the Illyrian design, following the pattern from his neck to his arm, then lingering a bit longer on his sculpted pecs and feeling the muscle beneath her fingertips. His heart was beating fast, pounding in his chest.

“Can you promise me something?”

She glanced up at him, his eyes already fixed on her. The corner of her lips twitched upwards. “Depends on what it is.”

Azriel was silent for a long moment before he spoke again with a new seriousness in his tone. “Promise me that we’ll give this a chance. That we’ll give… us a chance.”

Her fingers halted their roaming, her heart skipped a bit, and a part of her whispered that she had heard that wrong, that she had misunderstood. No way he was actually asking her what she thought he was asking her, despite just having had sex.

She had to swallow the lump in her throat to be able to murmur, “Do you mean that?”

Azriel's eyes softened, like he knew she was even more vulnerable now than while they were fucking, and that whether her heart broke or not depended entirely on his answer.

“I’ve waited for this for a long time too, Y/N,” he said gently, cupping her cheeks to look right into her eyes. “I don’t want just this one night with you. I want all the nights you’ll give me.”

Y/N smiled then, so bright it could have lit up the whole room. She wanted to kiss him senseless, to hold him tight and never let go. And nothing was stopping her anymore, she realized, so she did just that.

She showered his face with tiny kisses. Every beautiful inch, from his nose to his jawline, from his eyebrow to his chin. Azriel's arms wrapped around her middle to pull her closer, and she relented her assault only when he chuckled.

Their eyes met again, and she knew there was no turning back now. But she would never turn back now.

“I’ll give you all the nights in the world, Az,” she finally said once the burst of joy subsided. “And the days, too. I'll give you anything you want.”

His smile was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. It was wider than ever before and the urge to touch his small dimples rushed through her—dimples she'd never known he had, but that she'd do anything to see again.

When he kissed her, it was slow yet passionate, gentle yet desperate, their breaths mingling, their hands caressing cheeks and running through hair.

“You're the only thing I want,” Azriel murmured once their lips parted. “Every night and every day. I want only you.”

Those were probably the most beautiful words she'd ever heard. Not even in her dreams did she imagine he would say them. Dwelling on what it would be like to share moments of passion was one thing, but this…

She moved to straddle him, mindful of his wings splayed out beneath him. She wanted to run her fingers down their length, and hopefully, sooner rather than later, she might get to do just that.

“Then I hope you're not too tired, shadowsinger.” She leaned down to trail kisses along his tattoo, but her eyes never left his. “Because you can't say something like that without expecting me to fuck you again.”

His hands tightened their grip on her thighs, her words enough to ignite the fire in him once more. “I'm yours, princess. We have all night.”

“All the nights,” she corrected him with a grin, already grinding on him. “And all the days.”

Maybe they would be facing the rebels with sore bodies, after all.

Tags: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover

(If I accidentally added someone who wanted to be tagged only in part 3 of A Helping Hand and not the general tag list, please let me know and I'll fix it)

[rinhaler]

Rin Itoshi and female s/o taking each other first time

omgggggg i tried to make it romantic and sweet but i do love a slutty ass dude who's in control so apologies if this isnt exactly what u wanted hehe

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, virgin!rin, virgin!reader, fingering, best friends to lovers, mutual pining, tit sucking, "just the tip" pfft, slight manipulation, brief condom use, premature ejaculation, creampie.

words: 2.9k

Your heart races as you watch Rin scroll through his phone and find some music to play. He looks so serious, though that’s nothing new. You don’t dare speak, worried you’ll say the wrong thing if you do. He looks up at you, briefly, offering a weak smile before looking through his phone again.

“We don’t have to do this, you know.” he tells you without even looking at you. You watch him as he starts hooking up his phone to the Bluetooth speaker in your room, and you shuffle uncomfortably on top of your bed.

“I want to… ‘m just scared.” you confess, breath shaking slightly as you exhale. “Do you still want to?” you wonder, feeling shy as you ask. You’re sure he wouldn’t be here if he didn’t want to, though.

Rin doesn’t do anything he has no interest in.

“Yeah.” he tells you, setting his phone down before looking back at you, finally. He’s so far away, it feels too formal. Though you assume he wants to set the pace and make sure everything is comfortable for you both before you proceed. “We agreed,”

“I know.” you nod, recalling the moment you decided as teenagers to give each other your virginities if you hadn’t lost them after you turned twenty. “Just checking.”

The concept of Rin being single, let alone a virgin, is something you can’t even begin to comprehend. You’ve been best friends with him since you could talk. You remember him having no interest in you until you forced your way into playing soccer games with him and his brother. You soon gave it up once you got what you wanted, but you’ve been inseparable ever since.

Girls have always thrown themselves at Rin, but he never cared. Not really. You remember him having one girlfriend and it never went anywhere. It only lasted three weeks. He told you the gory details of their sex lives, though. Only because you asked.

It didn’t go past hand stuff.

“I brought condoms.” he tells you, pulling a box from his bag and setting them down on the desk he’s sitting by.

“I- I’m on the pill.” you respond. “I heard it feels better without… those. But we should use them.”

“Okay, yeah.” he agrees.

“… but we don’t have to.”

“I’ll use one.” he assures you, not wanting to make you feel pressured to go raw for his benefit. Though you’re sure it would be for yours, too. “If you want me to take it off, I can do that.”

You nod, agreeing.

“This is so…” you think, searching around the room for any inspiration of a descriptor to use. He stares at you, intently, wondering what you might say. He’d never tell you, but he’s just as nervous as you are. Of course he has an edge of experience ahead of you, but he’s still clueless. He wants to make sure this is going to be nice for you.

Perfect, if possible.

“What?”

“Formal.” you shrug.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” he responds, scratching his neck as he thinks about what you told him. He looks around, feeling a little too awkward to make eye contact. “I just want to make sure everything’s going to be okay…”

“It’s fine, you’re right.” you smile, “I just thought my first time would be… romantic. It’s stupid, I’m sorry.” you shake your head, dismissing the idea.

You knew you’d end up here with him eventually. You had no intention of losing your virginity to anyone else, after all. You’ve been in love with him for years, and finding out he got a girlfriend almost killed you. It was hard hearing about how they became intimate, but you were so fucking relieved when they broke up.

He only decided to get a girlfriend because he thought you weren’t interested in him, though. You’ve always been a forbidden fruit he wouldn’t dare try to cross a line with. You’re his best friend, after all. He wouldn’t want the romantic feelings he has towards you to ruin that.

“It’s not stupid.” he assures you. “Here, pick some music.” he hands you his phone.

You start to scroll and realise you’re looking on a playlist he created aptly named sex playlist. It makes you giggle, but you don’t comment. And you don’t pay him any mind as he leaves the room while you continue searching for a song.

The boy has good taste, you soon realise.

He comes back a few minutes later with some candles from a nearby cupboard. He knows you too well. You hoard them, you always have. You get an abundance each year for Christmas and rarely use them. He starts lighting them and placing them around the room.

You finally look up as he turns the light on, the room dimly lit by the burning flames scattered around.

“Is this better? I should have gotten some rose petals or something…”

“N-No, this is fine.” you smile, “Thank you, Rinnie, this is nice.”

He clears his throat and sits beside you on your bed. You quickly hand him his phone, prompting him to lean over to place it back down on your desk.

Your heartbeat begins to increase rapidly as he faces you. You haven’t even so much as kissed before, let alone what else will follow. He reaches out to caress your face, and it takes all of your willpower to not flinch.

“R-Rin… do you, um, d-do you watch…”

“Porn? Yeah. Do you?”

His reply makes your face flush with heat and the thought of confessing your own truth makes you even hotter. You look away from him, twiddling your fingers in your lap and looking at those instead.

“I know it won’t be like that… it’s your first time. And mine.” he reminds you.

He’s always been so mature. And you’re glad he’s doing all he can to put you at ease. He puts a finger under your chin, forcing you to look up at him again. You gulp, nervously, before nodding. He smirks at that.

“Good, I’m glad,” he tells you, beautiful jade eyes flickering with flames as he stares at you. “Means you know what you like.” he leans into you, an attempt to kiss which you immediately back away from. And you apologise, profusely, assuring him that you’re still a little nervous.

“I— I know guys can, you know, it can be quick… s-so don’t feel bad.”

“Don’t worry about that.” he shakes his head. “If I cum quickly, I’ll make sure you finish.”

He closes the distance between the two of you, his lips planting softly on your own. His eyes close as he loses himself to it, though you keep yours open for a little while as you process what is happening.

You’re making out with your best friend!

Though when his large, dominating hands begin to fondle your chest, you pull away entirely.

“Sorry, did I hurt you?” he wonders.

“N-No, I didn’t expect you to be so confident.” you whisper, and he kisses you again, smiling into it.

Your eyes close as you allow him to continue locking lips with you. His hand entirely gropes one of your tits and his thumb casually strokes over it. Even through the layers of your crop top and bra, you find yourself mewling softly.

He smooths his hand over the curve of your waist until he reaches the bottom of your crop top. His fingers breach upwards towards your bra, roughly groping at it and the fat of your tits.

“O-Ow.” you speak, softly.

“Sorry,” he whispers back, “Can I take your top off?” he asks between continuous kisses.

“Uh-huh.” you nod, dumbly.

He breaks the kiss to quickly pull your crop top over your head. His lips attach to yours again almost instantly as he starts to fiddle with your bra. He stops kissing you, again, to look over your shoulder so that he can undo the clasp. You gasp when he finally unhooks it, keeping the pink material against your chest to preserve your modesty.

“Can I see?” he asks, his eyes moving between yours and your hands. You hum, nervously, but nod. He helps you pull down your straps as you keep the material held firmly against your chest. Sighing, slightly panic in your voice as you strip the material away. “Fuuuuck…” he mutters to himself, adjusting his hardening cock in his pants as he looks at you.

“You should take something off.” you suggest before he can kiss you again. He immediately pulls his t-shirt over his head, tousling his hair back into place right after.

You continue to moan against his lips when he kisses you again. And they only get louder as he kisses down your neck whilst flicking his thumb over your pebbled nipple. He grunts against your skin, battling on whether he should say something to you or stay silent.

He’d hate to ruin the mood.

“Are you hard yet?” you ask him, your shy demeanour leaving you as you lose yourself to the sensation of his hands caressing your body. “S-Should we do it?”

“Wanna feel?” he asks, not waiting for an answer as he pulls your hand towards the bulge in his jeans, moaning immediately from the contact. “Look what you’ve done to me.” he laughs, pulling you closer and hooking one of your legs over his own.

He scratches the back of his nails up your thigh, stopping just short of dipping under your skirt as you shiver from the touch. His eyes find yours, kissing you reassuringly.

“Can I feel you?” he wonders, and, of course, you nod. His fingers disappear under your pleated skirt, quickly cupping your panty-clad mound. He barely gasps when he comes into contact with your panties. “You’re so wet…”

“S-Stop…” you reply, shyly, “s’embarrassing…” you tell him.

“You need to be wet for me,” he responds, that big, logical, brain of his immediately putting you in your place. Reminding you that he is the one with a little more experience and you need to listen to him. “You’ll be so tight… even for a finger.”

He forces your body down, flat against the bed and flips up your skirt. The cute triangular shape of your panties makes his cock throb, and he moves them into the crease of your thigh.

“Tell me if it hurts…” he requests, staring into your eyes as deft fingers come into contact with sopping flesh. He runs them through your folds, and you jolt when a finger tip grazes your clit. He moves it towards your hole, slowly teasing around it before pushing in. He stops, quickly, when you yelp. “Sorry, I’ll go slower. Hold onto me.” he instructs, a hand wraps around his bicep and squeezes as he continues to plunge his longer finger deep inside.

“Kiss me,” you whimper, pathetically. He drops his head so that your lips can meet again. He devours the moans and cries you emit as he curls his finger in and out of you. It feels odd, but not unpleasant. It’s still painful but it begins to subside.

“Gonna add another, okay?” he asks, and you nod. You hiss, instantly, hands flying down to pull his away. “Sh, sh sh, I’ll go slow again, okay? Gotta be able to take them or we can’t fuck.”

You fight back tears as the stretch begins to sting. He sinks his head lower, taking one of your hardened nipples into his mouth. Your back arches off the bed slightly, coaxing him to look up at you. And then he remembers all of articles he’s read. All of the research he’s done.

He even thinks about his teammates talking about sex.

“You have to worship the clit.” he recalls one of them saying.

He pulls away from your tit, briefly, to line his thumb up with your clit and apply pressure. He circles it carefully, monitoring your expressions as he does. You yelp, trying to close your legs, but he opens them back up with his free hand.

“Are you gonna cum?” he wonders.

“It’s too much, Rinnie!” you gasp, skin tightening over your knuckles until they turn white as you grip the sheets. “S-Slow down, please! S’too much!” you cry, unable to hold back your tears any longer.

He doesn’t relent, however. Hoping the way your body trembles means you’re about to cream all over his fingers. It was an achievement he never reached with his ex without her assistance. She showed him how and where to touch to make her cum. But you’re not her. You’re perfect.

You gasp, breathlessly, as your pussy begins to tighten around his fingers. Your clit throbs as he teases it just right and you begin to cum hard and fast for him. He kisses between the valley of your breaths, whispering sweet nothings as you reach your peak and plummet back down to earth. He slows down his ministrations as you begin to shudder and twitch from the after shocks, looking up at you adoringly when you start to calm down.

“Good?” he asks.

“Very,” you pant, laughing lightly as you find your sense again. “Rinnie…” you speak, your confident bravado disappearing again as you feel naked and exposed.

“Yeah?”

“Promise me… promise you’re a virgin, too…” you say, looking up at the ceiling. You feel too needy and desperate as you speak. But that was too good for him to not know what’s he’s doing. He’s seriously only done that once on another girl? It’s a little hard to believe.

“I promise. Was it really that good?” he smirks. He kisses both of your nipples softly before sucking his fingers clean of your juices. “I’ve been preparing… reading about stuff. Asking advice. I’ve told you everything I’ve done, I swear.”

He stands up, unbuttoning his jeans and kicking off his shoes at the same time. He pulls of his jeans and underwear in the same movement, revealing his large, blushing cock.

“We don’t have to do this.” he assures you, picking up a condom from your desk and tearing the foil with his teeth. He rolls it down his length, the rubbery sheen covers the pretty pink colour of his dick. “Do you want to stop?”

“Um,” you think about it. He’s asking as if he isn’t already raring to go. You look between his erection and his intimidating stare as you think about what to say.

“What about just the tip?” he asks. And at that, you nod. He reaches under your skirt and pulls down your panties to ogle your drippy cunt one more time. He feels himself throb at the thought of splitting your virgin hole open on his fat cock. He’s always known he was big, and he really doesn’t want to hurt you. He can only hope his fingering was enough prep before you rob each other of your innocence for good.

He lines up his cockhead with your virgin slot as he cages you in beneath his wide frame. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down to kiss you, your moan semi silenced as he pushes his tip in.

Oh God this isn’t enough.

He knew he’d need more.

Just a little more.

He pushes in a bit further, and you pull your lips away from his to voice your concern.

“H-Hurts,” you tell him. “You’re really big.” you inflate his ego further, earning another inch of his cock.

He can’t help it, you’re spurring him on!

And he can only imagine how much better you’d feel wrapped around him without this stupid fucking rubber on. He stops pushing when you place your palms on his shoulders, forcing him to pull back a little. “Is it the condom, Rin? Is it t-too dry?” you wonder, batting your eyelashes up at him so innocently.

“Yes.” he replies, without hesitation. “I’ll take it off.”

He pulls out of you instantly. He hisses a little as he pulls at the condom too hard and it snaps back. He decides to push it up from the base of his cock, lining up with your cunt again right after.

And it’s like you’re made for him as he pushes in. He smothers any whimper you can make with a searing kiss. You feel his tongue slip into your mouth as he pushes in further and further until there’s nothing left to give.

You’re crying, again, not expecting to feel so much so soon.

“God, you’re beautiful.” he praises you. He moves his hips, slowly. His cockhead unintentionally nudges against your soft spot with every rut. The blinding pleasure prevents you from telling him, once again, that it hurts and it’s too much. “I know I said just the tip, jus’ feel so good, princess.” he whispers delicately against your skin.

And, as expected, he doesn’t last long.

A few pathetic strokes of his cock inside of you have him spilling thick spurts of white cream into your unprotected walls. He collapses on top of you, panting violently as he stuffs you full.

He was so backed up before this. He masturbates, of course, but not as much as the average guy. You’ve had this planned for a few weeks, now, so he decided to abstain so he could really enjoy feeling you for the first time.

“Fuck, ‘m sorry. Should have jerked off before I came over.”

“It’s okay.” you tell him, fingers mussing through his hair as you come to terms with the fact that you’ve finally lost your virginity, to your best friend of all people.

“I need to fuck you again,” he confesses, your fingers stop as you look down at him.

“W- now?”

“Soon,” he corrects you. “I want to taste you first.”

© 2023 rinhaler

[lipringlrh]

HE DOESN’T WANT ME WHEN HE’S SOBER PART 2 (LANDO ENDING)

read: part one | logan ending

summary: lando’s your best friend but seems to like you when he’s drunk. but then again, he seems to like everyone when he’s drunk.

pairing: lando norris x gn!reader

wc: 1.8k

Lando wouldn’t admit it to anyone but that night was the worst sleep he’d ever had. He left as soon as he found out you’d left with Lily and Alex, and made his way to your house just to find out you weren’t there. He messaged Alex to get no response and contemplated waiting outside your door until you came back, whether it be days or months, he’d wait for you. But, after almost falling asleep numerous times and getting laughed at by a group of teenagers, he made his way back to his apartment, knowing you’d be looked after.

He was awake almost all night, messaging and calling you and regretting everything in its entirety. He didn’t fully know if you had even seen him kiss the person that resembled you, he only felt it deep down, but even if you hadn’t, he shouldn’t have done it, and he could never apologise enough. He thought of how to explain his thoughts but nothing would suffice; nothing would ever be able to explain how he felt.

At some point in the early hours, he finally drifted off, but awoke not much later to an aggressive banging on his door and a voice screaming at him to hurry up. He wished the voice was you but it wasn’t and he hated it. He rushed to his door, barely having time to pull on some grey joggers before opening it to an angry Alex, very close to breaking the door down.

“Are you stupid?” Alex questioned, fuming, pushing his way into Lando’s house, “I know that you’re in love with her so what are you doing?”

Lando looked like a deer in headlights. He couldn’t explain his actions, he didn’t even want to think about them. All he remembered feeling was grief at watching you walk away, so when he found someone that looked eerily similar, he took the chance to kiss them and create the image in his mind of kissing you. It didn’t last long. He realised too quickly that they didn’t smell like you and the way they kissed wasn’t the same. He hated it, he didn’t want to kiss anyone but you.

“I know, I didn’t mean to-”

“What, you just tripped into her mouth then?” Alex questioned, pushing a finger against Lando’s chest.

“No- no. I don’t know why I did, I really love them I promise. We almost kissed but then they walked away, I was hurt, I didn’t think they wanted me,” Lando almost cried, his voice cracking.

“You do this every time you go out. You kiss her every time you go out and she follows, you don’t get to pull that card. You might be upset but I promise you’re not even feeling half of it,” Alex spat, not caring if he hurt Lando because he hurt you much more.

“Help me apologise. I need to apologise, please Alex, please help,” Lando begged, wanting you to more than anything, “Please Alex, I’ll do anything.”

Alex sighed. At that moment, he hated Lando for what he did, but he’d been wishing for you both to get together since he first saw you both together, making heart eyes at each other. He contemplated in his head whether to help or not. He always envisioned you together but always wanted what's best for you and right now he couldn’t tell if that was Lando or not. But looking at the state of him, red, wet eyes, begging for his help, he wanted to believe Lando regretted everything and would do anything to prove he loved you.

“Okay, but I’m not letting you be forgiven easily, I want you to prove it,” Alex sighed, running his hands over his face. A feeling of simultaneous relief and guilt eating him alive.

Lando promised Alex over and over again, and in between each syllable, promising himself also that he would give you the world in apologies, and whatever happened he deserved it, but even if there was the slimmest chance you could forgive him, Lando would take it and cherish it.

Alex messaged you and you told him it was fine to bring Lando over, as long as he didn’t expect much, and so they turned up less than five minutes later. Alex left you both alone in the kitchen to sit with Lily in the living room after repeating countless times he was a shout away.

You almost broke down just seeing him but managed to keep it in. You didn’t want him to explain, you didn’t care to hear it at the moment, but as soon as Alex left he began spilling out apologies and trying to explain himself, which you quickly shut up.

“I want some space,” you sighed. You wanted Lando close but you wanted everything you felt for him gone first. You couldn’t believe he ever felt the same, not after that.

“Of course, I understand,” his voice broke as he stepped back, trying to show you he would do anything you said.

“Not like that, Lando. I mean it, I don’t think I can see you for a while.”

“Oh-” he said, “When can I see you again?”

“I’m not sure, I’m sorry-”

“Don’t be, this is my fault,” he sighed, clearly upset and looking at the ground, “I’ll go, I’ll see you soon.”

After he left, you broke down crying, debating your decision on if you handled it right. You already missed him, and still loved him, but you also didn’t want to see him. Alex explained the whole morning, and his perspective, giving you hope you could fix it with Lando, especially after Alex’s approval, which you trusted more than anything.

The next few times you saw him were at hangouts with your shared friends. You knew he’d be there as none of your friends would invite him unless you were completely sure you didn’t mind him there. He stayed away, but didn’t make it awkward to the people around you, and always gave you a shy smile when you caught his eye.

He didn’t try to text or call again, despite wanting to more than anything, and instead waited for you to make the first move whenever you were ready. You had missed him more than anything, in both an “I love him” and “he’s my best friend” way, and it was killing you from being away from him, especially after how well he listened to your instructions.

You were at a mutual friend's get-together, a small barbecue in a back garden when you decided it was time. You had been debating texting him but after seeing him, you decided you couldn’t wait.

He was standing alone in a corner beside a flower patch and some grass, drink in hand, and surveying everyone that was there when you walked over. He didn’t know how to greet you and so awkwardly moved his hands between going for a hug or a handshake. You laughed and hugged him, both of you holding on tightly, unhappy to let go.

“I’ve missed you,” you whispered gently, looking down and playing with your fingers, slightly nervous to admit it to him after all this time.

“I’ve missed you too,” he grins, adding on, “So much,” with a quiet whisper.

“How’ve you been?” you asked, trying to make small talk before delving right in.

“Okay, I’ve not really done much. Races have been okay.”

“I saw,” you smiled, “You’ve done really well.”

“You watched?” he questioned, a little surprised. You met his eyes and nodded, explaining how you could never miss one.

“Do you want to talk inside?” you asked, heart pounding as you said it. He nodded immediately, without hesitation, and followed you in through the double glass doors into the kitchen, but only after picking out a daisy from the grass next to him and offering it out to you, causing both of you to grin.

He closed the doors behind you both, blocking out as much other noise as possible, ready for you to begin. “I want to know how you feel about this and about me,” you started, voice shaky.

“I’m sorry, I’m still so sorry. I love you and I want what’s best for you and I can’t even find an excuse, I was being stupid and thinking how you’d never want me. It was all nothing, you’re the only person that’s ever meant anything, I’m so sorry. I will do anything to fix this- anything.”

“Lan,” you let out a breath, “You still want me?”

“More than anything,” he grinned and you stepped forward to reach him, locking your arms around his neck.

Your fingers tangled themselves in his hair as you pull his face down until his lips are almost touching yours. He was smiling so much you thought it might be impossible to kiss him but you pulled him into you anyway, finally kissing him again.

“Stop smiling,” you laughed, pulling away to say it before immediately kissing him again.

“What? Can I not be happy? I’m getting my girl back,” he pulled away, grinning harder, then trying to drag you back in, which was almost successful until you pulled away at the last second.

“I can barely kiss you like this and I’d really, really like to,” you giggled, tugging him back again to enjoy another impatient kiss.

Your hands were running all over his head, completely ruining his hair, but he didn’t care. His hands were wrapped around your waist, holding you impossibly close. When you finally parted he still kept you close, resting his forehead on yours.

“Are you sure you want this?” he questioned, his breath still heavy.

You kissed his cheek and looked straight into his eyes, “More than anything, I promise,” you paused for a moment, “But you’re going to have to grovel to repay all the lost time we’ve had.”

“I’m going to prove to you that I’m all in, that I want this more than I could possibly explain,” Lando promised, meaning every word. He was already planning out exactly what he wanted to do - he knew he had to work to become your official boyfriend, but he would do everything possible for you.

You just stared at him, showcasing the biggest smile you’ve ever had, eyes full of love, knowing you weren’t ever going to let each other go or even risk it again.

“God I love you,” he grinned, ignoring the fact he still hadn’t caught his breath and pulling you into another, more intimate, kiss.

taglist in reblogs

[mywritersmind]

hi love!! how are you??💗

theres such a lack of franco stuff 💔 so since i just saw u were asking for ideas what about maybe franco and the reader have had feelings for each other for a while but kept them to themselves and something happens that provokes franco to confess 🤭 or the other way around :)) you can do whatever you want <3

JEALOUSY - FC43

listen up : no warnings!! thanks for the request this is super fun and proud of franco for q3 today🧉🫡 keep requesting!!

word count : 1200

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“Hi love.” Franco says smoothly in my ear, his hand resting on my waist as I take the drink out of his hand, coughing and handing it back quickly. He frowns, “I thought you would like this.”

I shake my head, “Gross.” My friends all look at us as he sips the drink.

“Just fuck and get it over with.” My friend says, making everyone laugh except Franco and I. I raise a brow at them as they apologize and scurry away.

I step away and look at Franco, his eyes are wandering around the club. He’s in all black, his waves big and as a piece falls in his face, he catches me staring.

We’re friends. I know that. And I love him for it. He’s respectful and kind, flirty and hilarious, and will never leave me behind. But sometimes it’s hard, I feel like we have these moments then it just disappears.

“Love?” He asks and fuck me, that nickname gets me everytime. I look away and try to hide my blush but he grabs my chin and turns my head back, a grin on his face and a spark in his eyes.

“I need an actually drinkable drink!” I yell over the music as he laughs and stands up straighter.

“I’ll grab you something.” He says it quickly but I shake my head.

“No chance, Colapinto!” I back up, “Don’t cry without me.”

“Unlikely.” He winks and when I turn, my cheeks are still hot. My friends give me a look and I can’t help but smile, I like Franco. I can’t help it.

You try having your best friend flirt with you while looking like that.

I’m still smiling when I order my drink. I almost don’t notice the man sliding up next to me. He’s tan and blonde, he smiles at me and I politely smile back, looking away.

When he doesn’t move, I look back to him again, “Hi- Sorry, I couldn’t help but come up to you. You’re gorgeous.”

I smile politely, “Uh, Thank you!” I am single, even if my mind tricks me sometimes when I look at Franco.

“You here alone?” I’m about to say no but when I turn to look at Franco, I laugh out loud. He’s with a girl, she’s pretty with dark skin and boobs that Franco’s getting distracted by.

“Yes!” I turn back to him, “I am!” The bartender hands me my drink and I start on it immediately, “I’m Y/n.”

He smiles, “JJ.” He starts talking about himself and as I listen, my hand goes to his arm and he scoots a bit closer.

I find myself genuinely laughing at things he says, not because I find him funny but I find what he’s saying ridiculously stupid.

I can’t help but look back at Franco, he’s staring at me. That’s surprising. The girl is still next to him, smiling and talking still.

I raise my brows at him and he does the same to me. I mouth, ‘What?’ but he just rolls his eyes and looks back at the girl. Fuck. Him.

“Y/n? Are you listening to me?” I look back at the man who didn’t even ask me a question, as he frowns.

“Dude, I don’t even remember your name.” I take my drink and walk away. I see Franco follow me out of the corner of my eye.

I groan, walking past my friends as they ask me what’s wrong, “I’m gonna go!” They start to follow me out but stop when they see Franco.

I set my drink down and keep maneuvering through the crowd, the fresh air finally hitting me. “Y/n!” He yells after me but I keep walking, ignoring the cold.

I don’t say anything so he calls after me again, “Y/n! You can’t just leave alone!”

I roll my eyes and turn around, “What do you want me to do then? Go home with that blonde?” I say sarcastically as his face drops.

We’re farther away from any people now, “No. I wanted you to come get me.”

“And take you away from your attention holder? No thanks.”

He shakes his head, “This can’t be because you’re jealous.” he scoffs, “I was having a conversation! And we’re not…” he trails off and I groan.

“We’re not what, Franco? And I'm not the one that is jealous in this situation! You were giving him a death glare.”

“Yeah well the way he was looking at you, he deserved it.” I roll my eyes and start to walk away again but he grabs my arm, “Wait- Y/n! I don’t get it.”

“Seriously? Are you that fucking blind or just plain stupid!?” He looks shocked I would yell at him.

Well I'm pissed off and angry at him. “You can't complain about some guy talking to me when you were otherwise occupied.”

“She- No. Y/n, I was barely listening to her. She fucking recognized me and I couldn’t hear a thing she said because you were laughing with that douche bag!”

I cross my arms, his touch leaving me. “You don’t even know him.”

“What’s his name, Y/n. I’ll get to know him.” He raises a brow as I look away, “I just- Fuck it’s hard. And I don’t want some slimy prick hitting on you!”

“Right, cause you’re the only slimy prick who gets to do that.” He lets out a dry laugh. “You are jealous!”

“Of course I am!” His tone makes me frown, he sighs then looks me in the eye, “I don’t want to share you. I hate being your friend because all I can think about is us kissing but that’s weird because you don’t want more and I'm trying to be respectful and a gentleman but shit, Y/n. You’re making it really hard.”

I just stare at him, frozen. He speaks again, “And I'm sorry. I mean, I'm not sorry for getting you to ditch that guy but…” I laugh a bit and it makes him smile, “I’m sorry for not saying this sooner.”

I shake my head, everything I've dreamed about coming true in the matter of minutes, “Franco.”

“If you’re gonna reject me, just get it over with please.” I laugh and his face tells me it doesn’t make him feel better.

“Franco.” He meets my eyes again as I move my hands to his neck, then jaw, reaching up and kissing him softly, “I really like you too.”

He freezes for a second and I'm worried I've done something wrong. But then his face breaks into a grin and he kisses me again, wrapping his arms around me and spinning me in the air.

I laugh as he hugs me, “This is the best day of my life.” He sets me down as my cheeks start to hurt from my smile.

“I thought your F1 debut was the best day of your life?” His hands slide to my waist as he shakes his head rapidly.

“Fuck that. Better things have come!” He kisses me again and I melt into him, “You’re better than anything I could have asked for.”

[ellieslob]

★ streamer ellie!

ways to help palestine!!!

S★ she started with fornite and minecraft gameplays but went viral for playing girly video games and screaming with pure rage and desperation if she loses or if her chat tells her the outfit she made was ugly asf😭

S★ she deadass will say “u guys clearly don’t know about fashion like i do” n then pull outfits like this:

S★ she used to be so fucking afraid that her face reveal went like dream’s that she posponed that shit for like a year. when she finally did it she ended the stream, turned off her phone and went to bed covering her body completely, while sniffing and crying “my career is over ”

S★ after her face revealed her account went even more viral, people started to make thirst traps of her and edits, videos, even fanfics, she got a little more comfortable with showing her face. her favorite edits were to songs like ride, baby by me, hey daddy (daddy’s home) and a song in spanish called vaquero, they were just so funny to her😭

iloveellie: she’s daddying so hard‼️

ewisinthechat: aw you guys really see me as a father figure?😺🫶

brondon444: 😭

kvcjjsaj: 😭

loverboydsa: 😭😭😭

“hey why is everyone crying in the chat, is everyone okay?”

S★ she really loves the cat emojis, specially this one 😻

S★ out of all her platforms (aside from twitch) she uses twitter the most, she tweets without a second thought in that head, without filter, like zero hesitation and then apologizes if she said something way too controversial.

ewisinthechat2: have you had that feeling when someone is so stupid you want to stab your eye with a fork? #kys

ewisinthechat2: k, i guess u have not😅…

S★ she was practically new to tiktok, so the first moths she had her likes public, she didn’t even know that was possible on the app. but if you click on it all you could see were shit post and memes that a dad would like, all except for a big section of aprox thirteen videos, one after the other, all with the same girl.

sckerforellie18: did u guys saw ellie’s likes? i think she’s stalking that poor girl😭

slaybabesew: HAHAH WAIT IS REAL, IS SHE HER GILFRIEND???

elliesaheymamasg: she’s so hot wait😩

heyemogirlbb: it’s her @girlypop66

S★ the chat started to tag you to every single one of her videos on tiktok, her photos on instagram, tagging you on things like “hi, could you please date my mom?🤗” or “my new mommie😻” EVEN in her questionable tweets telling you “we know she’s crazy but give her a chance😭”

S★ one day you waked up to your phone being practically broken from all the notifications, you still had your little pink iphone 6 and you had to buy another one because of it.

Instagram

girlypop: hi um i don’t think we really know each other but people are tagging me on your videos😭 love them though

S★ ellie was in a stream, the chat had to make her laugh and spit the water so she was reacting to videos that her chat had send her. when that notification appear on the screen, she read it, gulped the water, looked dead ass serious at the camera and turned off the stream.

elliewilliasm: omg hi, im so sorry i didn’t know, I’ll tell them to spot

elliewilliasm: spot*

elliewilliasm: STOP**😭

you laughed in your new phone, she was funny, and for what you had seen in all the posts that you were tagged on, very pretty too.

girlypop: hey would you like to grab coffee sometime?

ewisinthechat: TO EVERYBODY IN THE CHAT, THANK YOU, YOU GUYS ARE THE FUCKIN BEST, LOVE YALL, IM SO LUCKY TO HAVE YOU, XOXO😻😻😻😻

GIVEAWAY COMIN FUCKIN SOON💯💯‼️

S★ she was exhausted when she jumped to her bed, after all the crying, screaming, jumping and the extreme tweeting that just said “YESYESYESYESYESYESYESYESYESYES”, she unlocked her phone again.

elliewiliasm: yeah sure :)

REBLOG AND COMENT

IF YOU WANT TO BE IN THE TAG LIST

[moyazaika]

squeaky clean; yandere. non/dub-con. heavily implied nsfw. mdni.

“i’m sorry– m’sorry, please! swear i won’t–!” your thighs ache, pressed painfully against the edge of the bathtub, held in place by cold, firm hands that refuse to relent, despite your very best efforts. “i won’t do it again. promise.”

“oh, yeah?” you feel the tug of his lips; a cruel smile against your bare shoulders, which shake with sobs that wrack your whole body. he can feel them, you know he can. he’s got your back pressed right up against his chest; he just doesn’t care. “how sorry are you, baby?”

“very very sorry, i swear!” with wide teary eyes, you turn to face the apathetic man behind you. he only looks down at you levelly, appraisal in those eyes, crinkled with amusement despite the facsimile of a loving, if not remorseful, boyfriend’s expression on his features–when he is anything but. 

not loving. not remorseful. and certainly, if the way he keeps you all locked up and confined to the halls of his home serves as any indication of how little your opinion of his unwanted, unrequited affection matters; not your boyfriend.

and yet, you bend over backwards in an attempt to keep him satisfied. how unfortunate it is that all your efforts were undone by a single moment of carelessness; the cathartic release of a convoluted, complicated rage; hard work and pandering and pliant disposition rendered void by a few stupid tumbling past your lips before you could stop to just fucking think.

but you don’t voice any of that to him. it’s not what he would want or care to hear. “i didn’t mean to–to be so rude. please, please, please don’t make me do this…”

a noncommittal hum; “you can do better than that, surely.”

“i’ll never do it again–promise, promise i won’t.” your pleas inevitably fall on deaf ears, breathy voice echoing within the vast, bleak bathroom you’ve ended up in; awaiting the punishment your captor intends to dole out, begging in a lovely little futile attempt for a compassion that the both of you know he does not possess. “i didn’t mean to, i swear! m’so sorry, i’ll be good from now on. i-i love you. i love you.”

lithe fingers dig into your jaw almost painfully, as he kisses his teeth in mock sympathy. “oh, baby. you poor thing, i know you're sorry.”

hope, unfurling in your chest as you allow yourself to let out a relieved sob, mercy—

“but it’s just no good now, is it?” 

you freeze, rooted to the spot. your heart physically drops; a weight that sits low in your belly, alongside the fear of how he’s going to make you pay for your mistake.

“should’ve thoughta that before ‘ya called me ‘psychopathic bastard' you wish would 'do the world a favour by dying.'” he recites your words gleefully, a light and playful tone that contrats his far more forceful hand, as he angles your face forward; the hand that was at the back of your thighs reaching out, muscles taut, you realise–terrified all over again, with restraint. “but no matter. we can fix that.”

you shake your head, curl away from the soap; and right back up against his hard chest. “please don’t”

“hush now, sweet thing. i’ll show you what happens next time you run your little mouth like that later. first,” he reaches for the silky pink bar of soap that rests on the bath caddy, and you hear the sound of mellifluous laughter, low in the back of his throat. “let’s wash that dirty mouth of yours out with some soap.”

“i’m sorry.” it’s a pathetic, useless apology that carries no weight. you know it as much as he does, and yet, you're still a mess of nerves before him, "i love you."

“you weren’t so sorry and sweet when you told me to go ‘suck a dick.’” he grins cruelly. “now how ‘bout you quit whining and get some of these suds in your mouth, so you can think twice next time ‘bout tellin’ me what to put in mine.”

and you've always been good; so why should this time be any different?

it's the oddest thing, though; even after the mortifying ordeal, the overwhelming aftertaste of the soap doesn't make you feel cleaner, so much as it makes you feel dirtier than before.

even more so than when he will place something far less sweeter against your lips hours later, repeating your own words back to you whilst you look up at him helplessly through long lashes, weighed down by your tears.

"'ts not there to stare at, baby. you wanna prove just how sorry you are?" he runs a hand through your hair when you only nod in response; words failing you, mouth squeaky-clean. "good. you've already shown me what a dirty mouth you have today..."

"now," he mockingly taps the side of your face with a single finger, looking down at you a pleased little smile that has lingered on his lips since his fingers were in your mouth, hours ago, forcing the bar of soap onto your tongue. "let's see you put it to work."

[cloudystevie]

omg I used to be such a Steve girly when I first followed u and now I’m more a Bucky gal so I’m glad to hear u like him too🥹 any crumbs of the jealous/protective Bucky trope would be sufficient 🙏🏼

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warnings: sleazy stupid pervy man(not bucky obvi), petname (baby), asyphxiation, reader is more horned up for bucky than she cares about stupid sleazy man sorry, manhandling, pinv, semi-public sex (in a locked club bathroom)

author’s note: clearly idk what drabble means cuz this is 1500 words. trying to figure out the flow of writing drabbles (and just writing in general this is not my best work) ! the steve girlie to bucky girlie pipeline needs to be studied tbh!!! thank you so much for sending in this little thought baby hope you enjoy!!!🩷🩷🩷

18+ only minors dni.

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“I’ll be back in a second baby, just need to use the restroom real quick.”

You attempt to shuffle off Bucky’s lap, surrounded by all your closest friends at a circular booth at one of the newest clubs in the city. But before you can completely wriggle yourself free of his grip, his hands flex on your waist halting your movements. “I’ll come with you sweetheart.”

You giggle and playfully roll your eyes, “I’m not going to die in the 20 steps it takes to get to the washroom Bucky, I’ll be back in a sec.” You place a quick kiss on his bearded cheek and squirm out of his lap before making your way to the washroom, looking at him over your shoulder and giggling as he glares at you.

Currently, you were in the midst of working up your brooding boyfriend so he would take out all of his frustration on you in the most delicious way possible. Being a little bratty was just a little investment for the incredibly rewarding return you’d get later on.

Surprisingly the washrooms were unoccupied so you were in and out in just a few minutes, powdering your face and touching up your lips while you were at it. Giving yourself a once over in the extravagant mirror you head out of the washroom, swinging the door open and attempting to put your lip liner and lip oil back into your purse. You accidentally bump into someone, causing you to shoot your neck up and let out a flurry of apologies as you see their drink now splattered on their shirt.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry I didn’t see you coming. I’m so so so sorry I should’ve been paying more attention. I’m so sorry about your shirt.” Furrowing your eyebrows in concern you take in the man before you. He was a bit taller than you, dirty blonde hair all ruffled up with green eyes just scanning your body with an appreciative smirk. You couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable despite your apologetic gaze as you subconsciously search for Bucky, glancing around the suddenly very packed VIP section.

“It’s alright sugar, wasn’t planning on stripping naked so early into the night but if that’s what you want, who am I to deny you huh?” His voice attempts to be sultry but it just comes across as sleazy, making you grimace and chuckle curtly.

“That really wasn’t my intention, I’m really sorry once again. You can ask the bartender to put a drink on my boyfriend's tab. Just for the inconvenience of course.” A smile that doesn’t meet your eyes is on your face, as you continue looking around for your table of friends, for anybody you may know to save you from this slimy piece of shit.

“Boyfriend huh? Does your boyfriend know you bump into other guys dressed like a little slut?” He steps closer to you making you take a step back. It’s too crowded for anyone to take notice of you specifically and the music is too loud for you to scream and cause a scene.

“Excuse me?” Your voice comes out as strong as you had hoped.

“You heard me, now, what are we gonna do about making this up to me huh? Why don’t you follow me.” He roughly grabs your arm and you attempt to jerk it out of his grip.

“Don’t fucking touch me.” You spit out, yanking your arm out of his sweaty grip and shoving him back, causing him to stumble backwards and almost land flat on his ass. This causes a commotion as the people around you stare at the scene unfolding in front of them.

One second you’re trying to shove past the man to get to your table and the next he’s forcing himself onto you again with much more force this time. Before you can even react he’s being ripped off of you and shoved to the floor by your boyfriend who seemingly appeared right when you needed him most.

Bucky pushes his forearm into the man’s throat, making him struggle for breath and weakly fight back, but he is no match for your super-soldier boyfriend. “You wanna go around putting your fucking hands on women is that right? On my girl?” Bucky seethes, eyes wide with anger as the man struggles to shake his head to deny his words.

Everyone has their eyes on you as your group of friends quickly cut through the crowd to get to both of you, Steve and Sam trying to gently pull Bucky off the guy as Natasha and Wanda come to your aid, standing by you and asking what happened, trying to soothe your thumping heart.

You can’t focus on anything except the way Bucky is holding this man down for you. “Don’t let me catch you even breathing in her direction again you piece of shit. Tryna put your fuckin’ hands on my girl, I’ll fuckin’ k-”

You breathe out his name once. Bucky snaps his head away from the man whose colour is draining out of his face to take in your expression. Bucky can read you even better than you can read yourself sometimes. He can see you are obviously upset but even more than that, your eyes are scanning over his shoulders and biceps, his beefy frame easily overpowering the frail man.

Bucky can read you better than anyone else, and right now, you’re not scared or uncomfortable. You’re turned on. The quick rise and fall of your chest, the twinkle in your eyes, and the way you tug at your bottom lip. He even knows you’re ashamed that you’re turned on. But that doesn’t stop you. It never has.

Bucky smirks, and grabs the man by his neck, standing up with him as his legs weakly kick in the air, wheezing out unintelligible apologies and Bucky just looks at you over his shoulder, ignoring the way Steve and Sam are struggling to get him to put the man down. The veins in his arms make you practically drool as you make eye contact with Bucky, and the next moment the man is crumpled on the ground. The man scurries away, clutching at his throat where bruises are already starting to appear. Calling Bucky crazy and how you weren’t even worth it. Bucky pays him no mind because now his attention is all on you.

“You okay baby?” Bucky asks as he walks towards you, pulling you into his broad frame as he scans you with a worried expression. You nod mindlessly and before you know it you’re being ushered into the restroom you just came out of. Bucky locks the door behind him and before you can breathe you’re on him. Your lips clash against his, your tongues and teeth and spit mixing as your hands grip onto his shoulders as he picks you up and places you on the counter in one fluid motion. The display of strength makes you mewl into the kiss as you rut against his growing bulge making him hiss.

“Bucky- Bucky please I need you right now.” You beg, reluctantly pulling away from the heated kiss to look at him with your wide eyes. He looks at you through his hooded eyes, taking in your desperation before smirking. “What does my baby need hmm?”

His teasing makes you whine as you messily grind your crotch against his, looking for any friction. “Need you Bucky, need you only you need you to fuck me.” You blabber mindlessly, begging for him to claim you. Your words make Bucky groan and his hands wrap around your throat to hold you in place against him.

“Need me to remind you who you belong to? Is that it? You’re my girl aren’t you?” He growls against your mouth, biting your bottom lip and nipping at your sensitive skin.

You whine and nod as his hands wrap around you the same way they were wrapped around the man earlier. You moan as he sucks into the sweet spot behind your ear. “Yea- Yes need you to fuck me so good so that everyone can hear us please Bucky. Please, need everyone to know I’m yours and you're mine.” You’re not even sure if your words make sense.

But Bucky understands. He always does.

So he squeezes his hands around your neck just once, watching the hazy smile take over your feature, before quickly manhandling you so you’re bent over the counter, your eyes meeting his through the mirror. You push your hips back against his once and he wraps his forearm around your neck to pull you up, fiddling with his pants and shoving your panties to the side before filling you up in one thrust. He slides in easily due to how wet you were but his girth always creates a delicious stretch and you cry out at the feeling of being full. Your head lulls back to fall onto his sturdy shoulder and he tuts, tapping your cheek with his free hand before squishing your cheeks together and forcing you to look at the two of you.

He leans into your ear, feeling the shiver that wracks your body and he presses his open mouth against your cheek, his breath more prominent than your own. “Don’t you fucking dare look away from the mirror. You’re gonna watch yourself while I fuck you so you’ll always remember what you look like where you belong. Going dumb on my dick.”

[sweetkpopmusings]

stray kids soulmate aus | s. changbin <3

a/n: finally posting the next skz soulmate au !! i loved writing for sweet baby angel changbin :,,,-) i'm really in my skz feels these days, so hopefully i can write more soulmate aus soon <333 pics not mine~

content: fluff, soulmate au | wc: 1.6k | warnings: none! | pairing: soulmate!changbin x gn!reader | requests: open

♡ chan | minho | changbin | hyunjin | jisung | felix | seungmin | jeongin ♡

every month, you send a package to your soulmate, knowing only your names before you meet.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

“changbin?” chan called from outside the bedroom, “are you ready yet?”

changbin, half-dressed and digging through his closet, answered, “almost!”

chan peeked his head inside, tilting it in confusion, “is something wrong?”

“it doesn’t fit.”

“what doesn’t fit?”

“the new shirt i ordered. i could’ve sworn i ordered it in my usual size…ugh!”

“oh that sucks, but…can’t you just wear another shirt?”

changbin groaned, “yeah, sure, i can. the whole point was to wear that shirt today.”

hyunjin appeared in the doorway, “do you need help picking out an outfit?”

chan explained the vague situation to hyunjin, and, during that time, changbin settled for a plain black t-shirt and denim jacket that matched his jeans. the car arrived to pick them up, so, with a final loud groan, changbin grabbed his favorite necklace from his dresser and headed out for the day.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

as soon as you opened your eyes, you checked your phone to confirm today’s date. earlier that month, your soulmate, whom you only knew as “changbin,” sent you a custom t-shirt in the mail. when you unfolded the shirt, a cute handwritten note slipped out, telling you that it needed to be worn on a specific date because i’ll be wearing one just like it. it’ll be a long workday for me, so knowing that we’re matching will give me the strength to do well! please take a picture, so, one day, i can see how cute you look~~ thank you for being my good luck charm, my love <3

rolling out of bed, you smiled. you had never heard changbin’s voice, but you imagined he always had a bright tone. his messages were always so sweet. even if he sent you a glamorous gift, you cherished the handwritten note more than anything. 

with your outfit completed, photo taken, and your mood at an all-time high, you decided to make the most of your day off. hoping the soulmate airwaves connected you, you thought let’s have a good day today, changbin! i’m rooting for you! as you stepped out your front door.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚  

“all right,” chan sighed, stretching his arms, “i say we move onto the next track, yeah?”

jisung agreed, so changbin checked to see which song they needed to record next, “let’s see…ah, it’s jisung’s song, ‘volcano…’” changbin’s tone dropped, but he spoke again quickly, “who’s up first?”

changbin made a mental note to apologize to jisung later. it wasn’t jisung’s fault that they were recording the song he wrote about his soulmate on the one day when changbin ruined his attempt to have a cute moment with his soulmate. chan, sensing the shift in changbin’s energy, suggested they take a break. even the members who weren’t in a sour mood enthusiastically agreed, all shuffling out of the studio for some fresh air.  

“changbin-hyung!” felix chirped, “want to walk with me? i could use some company!”

changbin couldn’t resist the smile that formed on his face. even in his worst mood, felix’s sunshine demeanor would win him over. as they walked, they chatted about the new animation felix was obsessed with, with felix re-enacting the most interesting parts. changbin’s shoulders relaxed, and he was grateful that the evening air and felix’s voice were so healing. standing at the edge of a slightly crowded street, changbin thought that maybe the bad day was behind him.

“what’s been on your mind today?” felix asked.

“it’s going to sound so stupid.”

felix shook his head, “no way! if it upset you, then it’s not stupid.”

“okay,” changbin sighed, “today, i was supposed to wear this one shirt, but i guess i didn’t pay attention and ordered it in the wrong size. normally that wouldn’t be a big deal, but i sent y/n the same shirt. we were supposed to be matching today…kind of like a good luck charm.”

felix frowned, “i’m sorry. it never feels good when a plan doesn’t work out, especially an exciting one!” felix paused, and then grinned as brightly as he could, “you’re wearing the necklace y/n got you though! you’ve been doing great in the studio today, so that must be working like a lucky charm, right?”

“yeah, probably. it’s just…” changbin frowned, “hearing jisung’s song made me feel even worse. i’m so happy jisung met his person, but i can’t help that i’m jealous. i see how much better he feels on his bad days after he talks to his partner, and it hurts to know that i can only talk to y/n once a month through handwritten notes. it’s beautiful, and i love every word they share, but on days like today, it feels like it’s not enough…”

changbin’s voice trailed off, turning his head toward the opposite side of the street. maybe people-watching strangers could counteract the tears forming in his eyes.

felix rubbed changbin’s shoulder, “it’s okay to feel sad. i know you’ll meet y/n when the time is right, but that doesn’t make it any better in the present moment. maybe you can write out your monthly message to them tonight, if that would help?”

felix glanced over at changbin when he didn’t hear a reply after a minute or so, “changbin? are you with me?”

changbin stared down the street, captivated by someone wearing the exact shirt he was supposed to be wearing today. though his heart was racing, he doubted it was real. he had to be imagining it since he was thinking about you all day, right?

your eyes searched the crowd in front of you, as you were unable to shake the feeling that someone was looking right at you. you slowed your steps, scanning every face to find one you recognized. you were about to give up, but then a familiar necklace caught your eye. everything stopped when you met the gaze of the person wearing it. 

it felt too good to be true. how could you just run into your soulmate on a random evening, in an area you’d only been to once or twice before? besides, he wasn’t wearing the same shirt as you, which he had planned. but that necklace looked exactly like the one you gifted changbin for his birthday. even as you doubted yourself, looking at the man in front of you gave you the feeling that he was the one you had been searching for all along.

you waved at him and asked, “changbin?”

you knew you were correct the second he started giggling and jumping up and down. you laughed, every cell inside you bursting with joy because there he is!

“changbin? what’re you…” felix followed changbin’s gaze, “oh my god! is that y/n?”

felix deciphered a yes!!! amidst all of changbin’s excited noises, so he nudged changbin, “stop waving and go say ‘hello’!”

changbin bounded towards you, unable to stop his smile from growing bigger and bigger as the distance between you two finally disappeared.

“y/n! i’m so sorry i’m not wearing the shirt! i messed up and ordered the wrong size!”

you giggled at the pout that formed on his face, despite the look of pure joy in his eyes, “it’s okay, changbin! you look cute! besides, that would explain why this one isn’t in my usual size.”

“really?” changbin felt relieved, “so i didn’t mess up as badly as i thought?”

“no, not at all,” you shook your head, overwhelmed by the cuteness of changbin, your soulmate, “i can switch with you–since you must have mine in your closet–so we can match next time!”

changbin shook his head, “no way. you look way too cute in that for me to give you a different one.”

“should we share it then?” you joked.

“why shouldn’t we? we’re sharing the rest of our lives, aren’t we?”

you felt heat rush to your face at his words, bringing yet another giggle to changbin’s lips. you heard someone call his name with the news that they had to leave in a few minutes, which prompted changbin to get your contact information. the smile never left his face, even when he started to say goodbye. in his mind, nothing was more exciting than the fact that tonight, he could finally ask you how was your day, my love?

“i’ll talk to you later then, yeah?” you beamed.

“yes, please! i’m so sorry i have to leave right now, but i promise i’ll make it up to you.”

“i do not doubt that, changbin.”

you waved, watching him walk in the direction he came from. after a few steps, he turned around to look at you again.

“what’re you smiling so much for?” you giggled.

“i guess you really are my good luck charm today, y/n.”

you felt butterflies swarm inside you as your laughs mixed, filling the crowded street with pure joy and endless possibilities.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

[sanarsi]

We Have It All

pre/post-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: You and Joel were separated by the outbreak. Warnings: angst but with happy ending, mention of killing, use of weapon Wordcount: 3k An: I've always wondered what it would be like to experience the start of the outbreak as someone close to Joel, which is why we are here. Music I worked with: We Have It All - Pim Stones

Masterlist

"My flight got canceled," you sighed, throwing your clothes carelessly into your suitcase. You were furious. All your plans were gone to hell. "I'm sorry, baby."

"You don't have to apologize to me," Joel's amused voice echoed in your ear. You winced, still feeling guilty.

"I know, but I wanted us to spend your birthday together," you said calmly and sat down heavily on the bed. "Sarah and I were supposed to make a cake and humiliate you by singing happy birthday in front of the house." Joel snorted with laughter. You smiled to yourself, anxiously picking at your cuticles.

"Yeah, that sounds awful." You fell silent, staring blankly at the floor. "Babe, it's not the end of the world. We can celebrate my birthday when you get there," he assured you, knowing full well that you felt bad about how the whole situation had turned out. "I won't get any older in a few days," he added with amusement. You snorted quietly.

"I don't know. I recently found one gray hair."

"What?" he asked suddenly concerned.

"I'm joking," you laughed at his reaction. You heard him breathe heavily. "I booked tickets for tomorrow's flight."

"Then we'll pick you up from the airport. Sarah can't wait." In the background you could hear a cheerful screams of a girl. "She misses you," he added, making you feel warm in your heart. Joel always knew how to cheer you up. "I miss you too," he said more quietly, with different emotions. With real longing. You felt something inside you clench.

"Fuck you, Joel. You can't say things like that to me when I'm on the verge of a breakdown," you pointed out, smiling under your breath. His laughter echoed in your ear again.

“Yeah, sorry babe.” You could hear some chatter in the background. After a moment you heard Joel sigh heavily. “We have to go. Sarah’s gonna be late,” he said in his typical tired tone. You nodded even though he couldn’t see it. “I’ll see you tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” You could hear some murmurs in the background. “I love you.”

“Love you, old man.” His snort brought a wider smile to your face.

“Lovely,” he commented, probably rolling his eyes before he hung up.

You pushed your phone away with a quiet sigh. The screen displayed a wallpaper with a picture of the three of you on vacation a few months ago. You smiled at the memories that flooded your head. You looked around the hotel room and then fell back onto the mattress. You cursed the whole world for today, all your plans went to hell.

Today, of the whole fucking year.

Meanwhile, Joel was sitting in the car, looking at a small ring in a navy blue suede box. A few diamonds sparkled in the sunlight. Tommy glanced at his brother with a smirk.

"So when are you going to propose?" he asked, and Sarah's head immediately appeared between their seats.

"I wanted to do it today," he sighed, closing the box and putting it in his pocket. "But as you can see, it'll have to wait."

He glanced at Tommy and his daughter, then rolled his eyes at their stupid smiles.

"What?" he asked when they didn't say anything for a long time.

"Nothing. I'm just happy for you," Tommy replied with a shrug. Joel didn't comment on his words.

"Will she have the same last name as us?" Sarah asked.

"I hope so," Joel agreed, looking out the window.

"Cool. I'll be able to call her my mom," she said happily, and fell back into her seat.

And Joel couldn't help but smile a little at the vision she planted in his head.

In the middle of the night, you were woken up by loud noises. You mumbled in dissatisfaction, turning towards the window. You winced when you saw any lights. After a moment, you heard an explosion. You woke up immediately, throwing the blanket aside and went to the window.

A few blocks away, you could see that one of the buildings was on fire. You watched it calmly until another explosion engulfed another skyscraper, this time closer to your hotel. The silence was drowned out by car alarms and people's screams.

Your first thought was a terrorist attack.

You felt a surge of stress, observing everything from a distance. The loud sound of several fighter jets cut through the sky, catching your attention. And then the first shot came.

You watched in horror as more buildings in the city center burst into flames. You swallowed hard, tightening your fingers on the curtain. And then the loud sound of the phone ringing echoed through the room.

You almost jumped on the spot, turning towards the bed. The screen lit up the dark room. You quickly answered the call, seeing Joel's photo.

"Hello?" you spoke, swallowing the lump in your throat. Someone's curses and murmurs could be heard on the other end.

"Hello? Baby, are you okay?" Joel's breathless voice rang out in your ear. You immediately looked towards the window and felt your pulse quicken.

"Y-yes, I'm okay. Joel, what's going on?" you asked, looking out at the city. Another explosion. You flinched, looking towards the building that was in flames. Just a few dozen meters away. A quiet curse sounded on the phone. "Joel?" you spoke uncertainly.

"We don't know. There's a lot of soldiers everywhere. They've blocked the highways."

With each word he spoke, you felt more and more panic.

Another thought was war.

"They say it's some kind of virus. People are going crazy and attacking each other like animals."

You looked down at the street where people were running. Screams mixed with the howl of sirens. Your breath trembled as you moved away from the window.

“Joel, I’m scared,” were the first words you said after realizing how bad things were. If it was happening here and in Texas, then it was everywhere.

And you were alone on the other side of the country.

“Listen to me,” he began calmly. You began to breathe deeply to control your growing fear. “Grab the most necessary things. Get in the car and drive out of town on the side roads. You need to get out of the city center, do you understand?” he explained slowly so you could understand every word. You mumbled something in confirmation. “Baby, I need you to take a few deep breaths and do as I said. You need to get out of town. As soon as possible.”

"Okay," you said, feeling your stomach tighten painfully. You looked around the room in panic and then another explosion occurred. That's when you shook yourself. You quickly moved towards your suitcase and started putting on your clothes.

"Stay off the country roads," he continued explaining as you put on your sneakers. You went to your locker and threw everything into your bag in one move.

"Okay," you nodded, grabbing your car keys. You left the hotel room and looked around the hallway until you saw a sign for an emergency exit. You quickly headed in that direction.

"Tommy and I are going for Sarah."

"What?" you stopped, frowning. "She's not with you?" Silence fell on the other end. You looked at your phone to check the time. It was the middle of the night and Sarah was home alone. How on earth?

"I had to get Tommy out of the arrest," he finally spoke. You closed your eyes, sighing heavily.

Of course it was always about Tommy.

You shook your head and headed down the stairs. You had to get to the underground parking lot. You ran out the door, looking around. It was quiet here. You quickly got into your car and looked around like it was your first time driving. After a few tries and a few panicked curses, you finally got the key in the ignition and screeched to the exit.

You looked around the street before you pulled out onto the road and turned on the navigation. You looked around nervously in every possible direction as you started driving through different housing estates.

"I should be leaving the city in a few minutes," you said, driving more carefully than usual. The further you got from the center, the quieter it was. Fewer and fewer police sirens and people.

"Okay, baby, listen," he started slowly. "Head toward Kansas."

"Okay," you nodded, swallowing hard.

"We'll meet exactly halfway, yeah?"

"Okay," you nodded again, feeling your voice start to shake.

"I will find you," he assured you. He wanted to sound confident. He wanted you to feel safe because of him. But his voice trembled as well.

"Okay," you said again, feeling tears welling up in your eyes.

"I will find you, I promise," he repeated. You nodded, feeling tears start to flow down your cheeks. You pressed your lips together to hold back a sob. "I lo-"

Silence.

You looked at your phone in panic.

"Joel?" you said, but no one answered you.

You felt panic shake your body. You began to breathe quickly, trying to fight off more and more tears.

It wasn't until you passed the sign informing you to leave the city that you felt adrenaline take over your body. You rubbed your wet cheeks and took a few deep breaths.

"You will be fine," you said confidently and pressed the gas pedal, leaving the burning city behind you.

One year later.

You looked at the map again and cursed under your breath, looking around.

Everywhere fucking forests and fields.

With a sigh, you put the map in your backpack and slowly set off through the tall grass. There was silence all around. The wind gently moved the treetops and the birds sang merrily. Nothing had changed here. Nature continued to live as if nothing had changed at all.

But everything had changed.

The world had stopped and started to fall apart.

At least for those who had managed to survive.

You were one of those people.

You had been fighting to survive for a year. Starving, fighting and killing. Who would have expected that? If someone had told you a year ago what you would become, you would have thought they were mentally ill.

And yet, you were where you were. Which was currently in the middle of fucking nowhere.

After a few hours, you were sitting by a small stream, filling a bottle with cold water. As usual, you took the opportunity to wash your body of dirt. If you could even call it that. At least you didn't feel everything sticking to your skin so you considered it as a success.

You sat leaning against a tree, looking at the map, waiting for the fire to fry the fish you had caught sufficiently. You traced the path you had to take to cross the Missouri-Kansas border with your finger.

You still had a long way to go. But you had already come a lot further. You were getting closer to the goal that had kept you alive for a year.

You knew Joel was alive. You could feel it in your bones.

Joel was a tough motherfucker.

He certainly wouldn't let himself be killed and he was on his way to Kansas.

If he wasn't already waiting for you there.

That's what you hoped.

The next few days passed on a lonely journey. Your legs hurt terribly, but you had gotten used to it. You had gotten used to many things. But it probably took you the longest to get used to the smell.

Another sunset was approaching as you slowly walked along the dirt road kicking a small stone. The sky turned orange as you left the road and headed towards the forest. You had learned that it was safest to sleep in trees. Even though you hadn't seen a living soul in weeks, you were always prepared. No one ever looked up when looking for potential threats. So when you found a suitable thick tree, you began preparing ropes.

You were concentrating on tying knots when suddenly the sound of a branch breaking echoed through the forest. You looked around but didn't see anything that caught your attention.

Despite everything, you slowly and quietly lifted your backpack from the ground. You put the ropes away looking around for threats.

And then you heard another crack of branches.

Your senses sharpened and adrenaline hit you like a bolt of lightning. You slung your backpack over your shoulders and pulled your gun from your belt.

You slowly and carefully took steps not making a sound and hid under a group of trees. And you waited. For some time, all you heard was your calm breathing and the last birdsongs. You began to wonder if you had accidentally run into a deer or some other animal, but then you heard the next branches breaking under someone's weight. You immediately recognized the male footsteps.

Wary and heavy.

You slowly uncocked the gun and looked out through the gap between the trunks. You saw movement. A few dozen meters away from you. And unfortunately for you, he was walking in your direction.

You cursed in your mind at your luck and took a few deep breaths.

Another rustle of dry leaves getting closer to you. You tightened your grip on the gun and listened.

The snapping of branches. You glanced one last time through the gap in the trees to determine how far he was. He was definitely too close.

One last deep breath before you emerged from your hiding place.

“Stop and drop your weapon,” you said sharply, aiming it straight at the man in front of you. But you weren’t the only one prepared. You both stood, aiming your weapons at each other. You both had each other perfectly in your sights. And you were both alone.

"I just want to get to Kansas," he said in a hoarse, loud voice.

"Then you got your sides mixed up," you replied, keeping him carefully in your sights. To your detriment, the setting sun and the fog didn't help.

"What?" he was surprised, slightly taken aback.

"Kansas is the other way," you explained, frowning when you noticed he lowered his gun slightly. "No tricks. Throw the gun in my direction and take a few steps back," you ordered, carefully watching his every move. For a moment, there was complete silence. His hands finally fell loosely along his body.

"Fuck. Baby?" he said in a completely different tone. You frowned, lowering the gun when you heard a familiar voice. A gentle wind stirred the fog, giving you a better view of the man a dozen meters in front of you.

"Joel," you whispered in shock, the gun falling from your hand. Your heart stopped for a moment only to start beating like crazy when you saw his look of relief.

"Fuck," he cursed with a trembling voice before he confidently took a step towards you. And you started running.

You threw yourself into his arms, hugging his neck tightly. His arms wrapped around you so tightly you could barely catch your breath. You sobbed with happiness feeling your body overcome with relief. How his arms finally brought you the desired safety. Joel groaned, burying his face in your neck.

Tears of happiness welled up in your eyes as you finally held him in your arms. Alive. Healthy.

You tangled your fingers in his hair pulling him even closer starting to laugh with happiness. His fingers dug painfully into your skin as he pressed you closer to his chest. The amount of relief he felt holding you in his arms was indescribable. Like a huge weight from his shoulders fell apart in a second finally allowing him to breathe.

"I knew I'd find you" he whispered almost moaning with happiness.

You could barely see through your tears as he pulled you away, taking your face in his hands. He looked at you closely. Same eyes, same smile, and a few more scars. Other than that, nothing had changed.

He sighed in relief, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against yours. You wrapped your arms around his wrists, letting out a shaky breath that disappeared a moment later into his mouth as he pressed them tightly against yours.

He immediately deepened the kiss, kissing you with everything he had in him. Longing, relief, pain and love. It wasn't a gentle kiss, but the best you've ever had in your life.

His lips tasted like home.

And that kiss was a promise that you'd never be alone again.

He finally pulled away and pulled you to his chest. He tangled his fingers in your hair and rested his cheek on your head. You snuggled into his chest, closing your eyes.

"I was so fucking scared," he whispered, hugging you tighter and planting a strong kiss on the top of your head. "I was so fucking scared you'd die," he stroked your back and a few tears ran down his cheeks, soaking into your hair. You sobbed, burying your face in his chest.

His fingers stroked your hair soothingly.

"Shhh," he whispered, placing kisses on your head.

You were in his arms.

Safe and sound.

After a year of separation, you were finally safe.

"Everything will be fine now," he assured you, believing in his own words like never before. "I will take care of you."

[nathaslosthershit]

Stupidly Charming (CL16) [AoM Part 2]

Part 1: Audacity of Man Summary: Charles was never anything but a compassionate and wonderfully loving boyfriend. You always used to brag about how attentive he was... I guess this is karma?

You had tried to distract yourself, not get angry or upset over the fact that Charles had most likely forgotten your anniversary.

It was still early in the day, he could surprise you, or make up for the fact he forgot.

But hours went by of radio silence from the Ferrari driver. You couldn’t really blame him, even if he remembered your anniversary, you knew he wouldn’t be able to drop everything at work to text or call you.

Still you had hoped for something. 

“Fuck him! What an idiotic asshole, especially after you made him breakfast.” Your friend said as you caught her up on the situation. “Get upset! Get angry! If the second he gets home he isn’t on his hands and knees begging for forgiveness, be the biggest bitch to him you have ever been.”

“That seems extreme…”

“Fuck extreme, fuck him! Get angry, fight, and then have the best makeup sex of your life.”

That you could do.

“Honey! Oh how I missed you” Charles said as he opened the door and saw you on the couch, pretending to read a book you had given up on actually paying attention to a while ago. You were still too upset.

You didn’t answer him. You even scoffed as he didn’t seem to recognize your silent treatment, just planting a kiss on your cheek and going to change.

What an asshole.

“Did you think about what you wanted for dinner?” He asked as he returned.

Again, silence.

“I was hoping to try out that new place that opened up down the street, heard it has amazing desserts.” 

Still nothing. 

��Baby? Did you hear me?”

…

“Are you okay?” He sat down next to you. A look of realization appeared on his face as he saw your frown. Finally, he was remembering. 

“Oh honey, I am sorry I had to leave today when I knew you wanted to hang out. I wanted to as well, you know I did. Hours in the simulator and all I could think about was coming home to my beautiful girlfriend, the person I am most excited to spend the rest of my life with.” Nevermind, he still didn't remember. But dammit as he hugged your waist and pulled your face towards him to plant kisses everywhere, you couldn’t fight off the laugh that left your mouth. He was stupid but he was charming. Stupidly charming. 

“There she is,” he said looking at the smile now on your face, much to your dismay. “How about I order from that new place, I’ll get all the things on the menu I know we’ll like so we can try them all.”

“Charles, that's an expensive amount of food for no reason.”

“No it isn’t, not when it is for you. You better get used to it, you are being spoiled for the rest of your life.” he walked away to order and you tried hard to remember why you were mad in the first place.

Right, your anniversary. But was it even fair to blame him? He was busy with work and while you wished he would prioritize you a little more, he always made sure to make up for it, to make you feel as loved as possible. 

You were halfway to forgiving him when he came back into the living room, an apologetic look across his face. “I have to jump on a call, could you go pick up the food, my love?” Nevermind, even when making up for being busy because of work, he was too busy because of work to make up for it. 

“Fine.” Was all you said as you got up, the frown back on your face as you grabbed your stuff and left, ignoring his calls and apologies behind you. 

If that hadn’t put you in a bad mood, then the whole ordeal around picking up the food did.

“I am so sorry, ma’am. It will only be a little longer, we weren’t expecting this much business so fast!” The lady behind the hostess stand said.

It wasn’t her fault of course, but it didn’t help your mood. Still you tried to keep it together as you waited 45 minutes to pick up food that should have been ready the moment you got there.

You even kept it together as you realized you had forgotten your keys to the apartment inside, so you had to call Charles to let you in. But after a few insistent knocks on the door, and a few missed calls, you finally broke down. Maybe it was dramatic, leaning on the door as you sat on the ground, crying, but fuck that. You were upset, and upset you were going to remain. Still, it took a few minutes for Charles to come to the door.

“Ah, I am so sorry love I was on the phone and didn't see your-” He was rambling excuses the second he opened the door but stopped when he saw you on the ground, a mess of tears and snot. “Honey, what is wrong? Oh my love I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to leave you out here so long, and I didn’t know that the restaurant would be such a mess.” He kneeled in front of you as he wiped away your tears.

“It's not that-or not just that. It's everything Charles, this wasn’t how today was supposed to go-”

“I know, my love, I’m sorry I was-”

“No, you don’t understand. Charles, it's our anniversary, and I spent so long thinking of things we could do today to make it special, but nothing happened and it just got worse and worse till I couldn't hold it in anymore. I just- you didn’t even remember and everytime I tried to tell myself it was okay to be upset or angry, you would be so sweet that I couldn’t justify it-” You couldn’t even finish as sobs racked your body. 

Though, you paused when you heard Charles let out a low laugh. You looked up at him, but he wasn’t smiling or laughing at you, tears streaming down his face confirming as much. It was more of a pitiful laugh. 

“I knew this was a stupid plan. There were too many ways it could backfire.”

Before you could question what he meant, he picked up the food in one hand and reached for you with the other. You hesitated.

“Do you trust me?” he asked. Even though you were upset, you took his hand and stood up. Of course you trusted him. 

Your eyes widened as you saw the state of your apartment. Candles lit and spread around, balloons and streamers nicely framing your table that had been set up with a white table cloth, your nicest plates and glasses atop it, and a beautiful, large bouquet of flowers.

“I wanted to make tonight special. I had planned on making the entire day special, but when I had to leave I came up with a plan to make up for me being gone.” He looked at you, waiting for your reaction, he looked… embarrassed? “It was stupid, to pretend I forgot about our anniversary, I wasn’t going to but when I realized I hadn’t said anything, too caught up in the fact I was being taken away from you, I thought I would pretend so I could surprise you. I didn’t have a call, I just needed time to get this ready but after you left upset and then had to deal with all the problems at the restaurant, I began to panic, so much so that I didn’t hear your knocks and didn’t see you had called.” 

You started crying again, alarming Charles. “I know it was stupid, I shouldn’t have done it, I didn’t think it through I’m-” you kissed him, hard.

He was an idiot, such a fucking idiot, but he was yours, and for all of his bad moments, you knew he loved you so much. 

You two finally pulled away, that's when you realized he was shaking, a lot. 

“Charlie?”

“I- I had a whole speech. I worked on it for months. In the shower, in the car, during free practice last weekend it's all I could think of actually, that's why I got yelled at by my engineer.” he laughed, turning red at the memory. “I wanted to talk about how much I love you, how much I don’t deserve you, that I know it's so hard to have my job continually come in the way, but you will always be first, my love, even if it doesn’t feel like it. And I want to spend the rest of my life working to deserve you and your love. I want to spend forever making you feel just as happy as you make me.” Had tears not been blocking your vision, you'd have seen him reach for the box in his pocket.

But it wasn’t until he got down on one knee that you realized what he was doing. And before he could ask the question, you tackled him to the ground. 

The soft carpet luckily kept Charles’ head from hitting the ground hard. You didn’t care, he didn’t care, too busy giggling in between kisses as you both rolled on the ground. Once you two had calmed down and sat up, he slipped the ring onto your finger. “The ring is beautiful, Charlie, but this isn’t how I expected getting proposed to.” you teased as the two of you wiped tears away and tried to fix your messy hair from rolling around.

“It wasn’t how I thought I would propose, but if it ends in getting to spend the rest of my life with you, then I don’t care too much.”

So stupidly charming.

[planetpedri]

About you — Pablo Gavi.

Pairing: Pablo Gavi x Fem!Reader

Summary: It’d been two months since Gavi asked out Lucia, two months since you’d talked to him. Two long, dreadful months. But the no contact hadn’t lasted any longer, because when the clock hit 11:40, Gavi was standing outside your door in the pouring rain, begging to talk.

Word count: 860

Disclaimer/s: this is a part two to Casual ! Angst to a hopeful ending.

A/N: this is sooo long overdue apologies..

Your house was deadly silent as you paced around, the only sound emitting throughout it was the thunder outside. Your deadline for a transfer request was in an hour, and you couldn’t make up your mind. You needed to escape, to get far away from this city. From him. But a small part of you just couldn’t make up your mind.

On one hand, the transfer to Paris gave you tons of new opportunities, but that also meant leaving all your family to live in a country you didn’t know. On the other.. that meant you could start over. Live a life free of Pablo, free of torment, and most of all, it gave you time to yourself.

As if could ever truly be free from him. As if you could ever forget him.

Twenty minutes. You had twenty minutes to accept. Hesitantly walking toward the computer, the screen shining brightly, showing the two emails you’d typed out. One accepting, the other declining.

You lick your lips, reaching toward the send button, when a knock sounds at your door. Jumping slightly, you turn around, facing the wooden door in surprise.

Without thinking, your feet move for you, dragging you toward it. Your hands too move for you, unlocking and opening the door.

In front of you is someone who’d been on your mind nonstop for years, more-so in the last few months. He was drenched from head to toe, his hoodie clinging to him as the light grey had long since turned dark. He looked like a wet puppy. How long had he been standing there?

He says your name, urgent and afraid. “Please don’t go.”

Please don’t go.

Confusion flashes across your face, how did he even find out? “What?” You choke out, heart pounding in your chest. “How—get inside. You’re going to get pneumonia.” You grumble, swinging the door wide open and stepping aside.

Pablo does as told, taking hesitant steps into the warmth of your entry way. The door had only just clicked shut when he begins to speak again, “There is so much I want to say to you, but first, I need to say i’m sorry.” He’s breathing heavily, as if he’d just run a marathon.

Mouth opening to speak, to insist he shut up, you’re the one being shut down. “No! Let me get it out! Lucia and I—we broke up. Well, she broke up with me. Said, ‘I couldn’t love her when I still clearly loved you.’ And I realized then how badly I fucked things over. Because,” he sucks in a deep breath, whispering your name like it was the most delicate thing in the world, “fuck, I love you. I love you, and i’m sorry I couldn’t admit that till I already fucked things up.”

Your mouth opens and closes for what must’ve been a hundred times, stunned by his sudden confession. “Pablo—“

“Please, don’t go to Paris. I can’t let you get away again. I need you here. I need you to stay.” His eyebrows scrunch together as he looks at you, “I need you.” He says it slowly, making sure you latched on to every syllable.

With your chest rising and falling in uneven intervals, your eyes flicker across his face. He’s desperate, like losing you would physically end him. A look only comparable to when he’d torn his ACL.

“Oh, fuck.” You groan, “oh fuck you. Why are you doing this to me? After all this time—why when i’m just about to move on. Why couldn’t you do this before I figured my shit out.”

“Because I was—I am stupid. I’m an idiot, but i’m here now. I’m here, in front of you, begging you to stay.” He pleads with his eyes, with his hands, that were twitching at his sides, trying not to hold you, with his voice.. “I’ll get on my knees, i’ll do anything. Just please, please stay.”

Closing your eyes for a moment, you try to think logically. You try to think about how much you wanted this for so long, but also how badly he’d hurt you.. Do you trust your head or your heart?

But at the end of the day, the heart always won.

“Okay.” You finally say, nodding your head slowly. “I’ll stay.” You glance at the clock on the wall a few feet away, it was 12:01. “Not like I had a choice, the deadline just passed.”

Pablo lets out a sigh of relief, one that had your eyes narrowing. “Don’t sound too upset about it.” You quip, though your voice lacked amusement.

“Sorry.” He mumbles. “So—“

“You make my life so difficult.” Grumbling, you motion for him to follow you, “you need to take a warm shower, i’ll find you something to change into. I do not want to get a cold because of you.”

With a little pep in his step, Pablo trails behind you. “Okay, so what does this mean? Am I forgiven or..”

“Well, no! But you’re getting there.” You reply simply, knowing deep down he’d been forgiven the moment he uttered those five words. ‘I love you, i’m sorry.’

I just tagged everyone who asked for a part two, apologies ^_^

DTS , @halfwayhearted @pabl0andm3 @gadriezmannsgirl @spidybaby @alexis1taylorr @htpssgavi

[ilovescarymen]

talk to me: Spencer Reid

You’d never been one for vulnerability. It probably had something to do with how you grew up, an emotionally unavailable mother and a mentally absent father- you were always berated when you cried or showed you were upset so as you got older , you stopped.

You had a boyfriend who made you think you could be soft and vulnerable infront of him but, he ended up using it against you in an argument, after that you swore to never be vulnerable again.

You became a blank canvas that was impossible to read, a smile always plastered on your face, a fake bubbly personality to cover the pain beneath the surface. You’d only cry in the comfort of a bathroom or your home and then smile around others. It always worked. No one ever questioned it, untill now.

Your boyfriend, Spencer Reid is a profiler for the fbi’s behavioral analysis unit. He study’s human behavior for a living, which means he sees right through your little facade.

He never addressed it because he thought that maybe vulnerability would come with time. Maybe you’d stop crying in the bathroom or the shower and instead cry in his arms.

But when he arrives home from a case and you’re not at the door , bouncing around and ecstatic to see him he knows something’s up, he peeks around the corner to your bedroom and sees his sweet girl, crying and hiccuping.

You notice him and quickly wipe your tears , perking up, your stand up off the bed and run to your boyfriend’s arms.

“Hi Spence! Sorry I’m running a bit late on dinner! I’ll go get it started!” You quickly spew out, as you make an attempt to walk away your pulled back by your boyfriend, he gently places his hands on the side of your face and scans your face, before making eye contact with you.

“Honey, slow down, what’s wrong?” He asks genuine concern in his voice

“Nothing! Why would something be wrong Spence?” You put a smile on your face and look up at your boyfriend, his eyebrows are furrowed together and a frown is all over his face.

“Sweetheart, you do know that I study human behavior every day right? I know you’re lying to me, please just talk to me baby. I love you and I care and I want you to feel better”

You shake your head “nothings wrong I’m okay” you release yourself from his grasp and slip past him to the kitchen, you open the fridge and scan it “I have pasta sauce! I can make you-“ you let out a squeak as Spencer picks you up and carries you over to the couch, he sits you in his lap facing him and holds you in place.

“I have let you do this long enough. I let you isolate yourself and pretend you’re okay when you’re not but no more. I want you to come to me, I want to cheer you up honey, I will never judge you, you know that right? I’ll never make you feel stupid for feeling your feelings. I love you I want you to talk to me”

Your lip starts to tremble and tears start falling down your face “she’s- she’s so mean Spence” you hiccup, he pulls you to his chest and hugs you, his arms wrapping around your waist

“Who is? Honey who’s mean?”

“My mother” you sob out, Spencer doesn’t know the horrors of your childhood. All he knows is you grew up in Texas and you left because you wanted a change in scenery, what he doesn’t know is that you actually left for your own safety. Your mother had lost it and you left to avoid another one of her beatings.

“Oh honey” he coos, he kisses the side of your head and rubs your back gently, whispering little “it’s okay”’s and “let it all out”’s in your ear. When your crying calmed down you sat up, looking Spencer in his eyes.

“M’ sorry, I know you got home from a case and this is probably the last thing you wanted to deal with” you breath out as you wipe your eyes

“Hey hey, Nuh uh. Don’t ever apologize for feeling your feelings, I’m more than happy to do this. To be here for you always. I love you, sweetheart “

“I love you too Spence “

“Now, tell me why we hate your mother”

And you did, you told him everything, and when tears fell Spence gently caressed your back and listened intently, showing you that it was okay.

This is what love is.

[euno11a]

Tattooed Hearts

Genre: No one to someone Tattoo artist! Jungkook X Reader

Summary: What happened to us? Why did we end up like this? It was only a one time thing. Now it’s ruined us both.

Warnings: fluff, angst, smut, mentions of hookups, insults, arguing, blood, mentions of period

Edit: Hey guys, I got this idea for some reason and was thinking of making it into a series, so let me know if you enjoy it and want a part two :)

Pt II • Pt III • Pt IV • Pt V • Pt VI • Pt VII • Pt VIII

*** You weren’t one to put out, always waiting for the one person who made you feel special. But you never seemed to feel that, except for when you were with Jungkook. He made you special, he made you happy, he made you feel loved. Maybe giving yourself to him was your mistake, but how could you not? He looked so handsome with his piercings and tattoos. That’s where you should’ve known what you did was a mistake. Sleeping with him was never on your bucket list, sure you’d thought about it before, but you never intended for anything to actually happen. It felt good, it always did, but the pain of being pushed out always pained you after. Mistakes get made, but this one hurt too much.

Sobbing on the bathroom floor was something you’d never wanted to do when it came to a guy. But seeing him with that girl hurt, way too much. Why weren’t you used to this yet? It’s happened before, get used to it. “He doesn’t deserve your tears, Y/N, please stop crying…” Lindsay, your friend, pleaded. She’d been here when it first happened, the other hundred times it had happened, and now. Maybe you were the stupid one for never taking her advice. Now, you hated calling anything stupid, nothing was stupid. There was always reason for something being one way and not the other, but you were just stupid for how many times you’d fallen for his tricks. Tattoos make a story when on your skin, most of the time. The story behind your tattoo was that you’d fallen for a handsome tattoo artist, letting him sweep you off your feet, wine and dine you and then fuck you. Big mistake. It’s almost funny how many mistakes you’ve made with him. Going the day after to get your tattoo finished was not the happy ending you were expecting, instead finding a woman walk out of his office looking drunk off of sex. Just like you did. He apologized, wine and dined you, then fucked you again. The same thing happened. Something wasn’t clicking, stay away from him; he’s bad for you; he’s using you; all things you should’ve listened to, but didn’t. That was on you, you decided to keep going back and keep getting your heart broken. That was until now, countless nights of crying about him, going back to him, waiting for him to call and use you again, you were done.

Wiping your tears for the last time, you wouldn’t let this man or any man make you cry like that ever again. That was a promise. ***

“Are you ever gonna get that tattoo finished?” Lindsay asked as she placed the bowl of popcorn between you two. It was Wednesday night, your scheduled movie night. “I think it would look really cool actually completed.”

You placed some popcorn in your mouth, thinking for a moment, “I don’t know…I think it looks kinda cool now!” Placing the blanket over your legs, you looked at your shoulder, a half finished tattoo of a skeleton hand holding a rose.

“Girl, don’t lie, you need to get it finished. Please? I’ve been looking at it for so long, I can’t stand it anymore! How are you not annoyed it’s only half done?!” She was adamant about making you get it finished, partially because she wanted you to go back to rub it in Jungkook’s face how amazing you were and what he lost when he slummed it with those other women.

“Fine! Fine! I’ll get it finished, but you need to get me tteokbokki after, got it?” It was something you’d dreaded, but having the feeling inside that you’d let him win by not seeing him again was eating at you from the inside.

Lindsay squealed in joy, clapping her hands, “ I’m gonna make you so hot! He’s gonna regret sleeping with those other bitches!”

“Whoa, whoa, I’m going to get my tattoo finished, not see him. And don’t call them bitches! Women stick up for women, no matter how fucked up some might be.” Secretly, you were hoping to make him jealous or upset with how he left you. He deserved to feel like shit.

“Okay, okay, sorry…I’M GONNA GET MY HEELS!!” Lindsay yelled as she ran out of the living room to grab her heels from her room. I sighed, knowing that I couldn’t stop her.

***

A week later, you walked into the shop, seeing the familiar face of RM. He was one of the piercers that worked in the parlour, “Y/N, hey, it’s been a while!” He spoke with a big smile, happy to see you again. With the time you’d spent there before everything, you’d befriended his friends. It felt unfair leaving them behind after it all.

“Yeah, hi, how’ve you been?” Even though Jungkook was nowhere to be seen, you couldn’t help but feel a lump growing in your throat.

RM had a bright smile on his face, one that he’d always had that always managed to make your day better. “Good! I’ve been good, uh, how can I help you today?” He asked, standing up from behind the front desk.

“I want to get my tattoo finished. I think it’s finally time.” You gave him a small smile, he’d known about what happened between you and Jungkook. It was hard not to know, he was friends with him after all.

“Alright, we can do that! Let me see…V could take you.” He looked up from the computer, seeing what was open now. You nodded your head, willing to take anyone who wasn’t Jungkook.

They’d gotten you situated at a station, instructing you to take off your sweater. Your half finished tattoo was now on display, waiting to be finished. V was nice, making small talk here and there, making sure you were comfortable with everything and that nothing was too painful. Pain wasn’t your thing, yes, you had to go through a period every month and maybe one day give birth, but you had a low pain tolerance. He used to squeeze your thigh, kiss your neck, finger you to keep you calm…stop it! Don’t think about him! He’s not in your life anymore, don’t waste precious thinking space on him! Not thinking about the needle piercing your skin was abruptly stopped when you felt a prick, yelping, you moved your shoulder away. V looked at you with wide eyes, “ I’m sorry! Was that painful? Oh god, are you okay? I didn’t mean to hurt you!”

“No, no! It’s okay! I’m fine, just startled! Sorry, I zoned out for a moment…” You gave him a sheepish smile, relaxing in the chair again.

“That’s fine, just let me know if you need a break or anything, okay? Maybe I can sneak you a juice if you really want, too.” He gave you his signature boxy smile, instantly warming your heart.

You giggled, nodding your head, “That would be nice…” Smiling up at him, it felt nice to still be friendly with them even though you were nowhere close to being friendly with Jungkook.

V stood up, walking away to get you a juice from the break room. He left you in the chair, leaving you alone to listen to the music playing softly through the speakers. Quietly humming along, your thoughts were halted by hearing two voices. “Hey, RM, when’s my next client?”

“She should be here soon, it’s a touch up.” I could hear RM talk to the person. The other guy hummed, shuffling around a little.

You sat up, being faced with Jungkook. Everything seemed to go fuzzy, your thoughts, the sounds around you, even your eyesight. The lump in your throat returned, making it hard for you to breathe, V returned with your juice, “ I got you watermelon! You know? Since it’s your favourite!”

You were startled out of your trance, looking up at V who was holding your favourite juice. They still had it…? “Thanks…how do you-?”

You were cut off by V smiling sheepishly and rubbing the back of his neck. “We all thought you’d show up again…but when you didn’t, we kept the fridge stocked for whenever you decided to show up again.”

Heat rushed up to your cheeks, they’d waited for you? Why? His boxy smile came back again, looking over to Jungkook, waving “Hey, JK, lunch was good?”

“Yeah, it was fine. Pussy would’ve been better though.” Jungkook replied as if it were nothing, finally looking over to you. He faltered a little bit, quickly recovering by giving you a cocky smirk, “Glad to see you back, Y/N.”

Without another word, he walked away, back into his office. Biting the inside of your cheek, you knew this wasn’t the last time you’d see him. He was like a parasite, once you had it, it would never go away.

[mattitties]

Can you please do one where the reader dreams that Matt’s cheating and she founds out because he posts the other girl on his Instagram…So after she’s awake she’s upset and tells real Matt about her dream. Matt just cuddle her and says his sorry even tho his not dream Matt and then he orders to the house white roses for her (the note from the flowers should say something like “dream Matt it’s an idiot and I’m deeply sorry about that bae…I love you”

🥹

Bad dream - matt sturniolo

“I’m so, so sorry. It was such a mistake but I swear to God it’ll never happen again,” he pleads. “I love you so much baby, please.”

All I can do is cry. I’ve never felt so fucking betrayed in my life. We’ve been together for over a year, we’ve talked about kids and marriage and the rest of our lives together, and he didn’t even care enough. He ended it all with one stupid night. 

“You don’t care about me. You don’t love me,” I sob. “I hate you! Get the fuck out!”

He opens his mouth to say something but ultimately decides against it. I watch as he opens the door to my apartment, turns around to look at me for the last time, and leaves.

I suck in a breath as I jolt awake. My heart is pounding, and my face is wet with tears. I turn my head and see my boyfriend, Matt, sleeping soundly next to me. It was just a dream. He would never cheat on me. I know he wouldn’t. I have never had an ounce of distrust in him, but that dream just felt so real that my anxiety won’t come down. 

I quietly get out of bed and make my way to the bathroom, turning on the sink so he won’t hear my sobs. I don’t even know why I’m crying; it was a dream. It was fake. He’s literally in the room right next to me, and he never fails to prove his love to me. But there’s this annoying little voice in the back of my head screaming “What if? What if?” and it won’t shut off. 

After a few minutes of crying and trying to keep my anxiety at bay, I go back to his room and lay down next to him, but there’s just no way I’ll be able to fall back asleep anytime soon, so I pull out my phone and start silently scrolling through TikTok.

The brightness of my phone must have woken him up despite it being all the way down. “Baby?” he says, wrapping his arm around my stomach. “Why are you up?”

“Just can’t sleep. I’m sorry, go back to bed,” I say, pushing his hair out of his eyes and trying to hide my tear-covered face. But of course, he notices. He always notices.

“What’s wrong? Were you crying?” he sits up and wipes my tears, which only makes me start crying harder. “Shhhh,” he consoles, pulling me into him. “What happened?”

“It’s so stupid.”

“If it’s making you upset, it’s not stupid. Tell me.”

I take a breath. “I just had a dream. And it made me anxious and sad. That’s it.”

“What was the dream?” he urges softly. 

“You just… you cheated on me. And it was so bad because I’ve been cheated on before and it was so humiliating and it made me so upset and I just thought you’d never do that to me and I know you wouldn’t but–”

“Baby, baby, slow down,” he tilts my head so I can look up at him. “I love you. So much. And I would never, ever, ever cheat on you. You’re it for me. Okay? Dream Matt is such a fucking idiot but real Matt, the one right here, is not. I mean, I can be sometimes, but definitely not enough to cheat on you.” 

I nod and give him a little smile. “Yeah. You’re right. Sorry for freaking out.”

“Don’t apologize, you’re fine baby. I love you, okay?” he says softly before kissing me in a way that reminds me just how much he really does love me. “Go to sleep baby, I’m right here.”

I wake up the next morning in the same position we fell asleep in. I check my phone and see that it’s only 10 AM and Matt won’t be awake for at least another 3 hours, so I quietly dip out to the kitchen to make some breakfast. I always check the front door when I wake up to see if there’s any mail, and today I almost miss the large bouquet of white roses I see sitting on our front stoop. 

I pick them up and take them inside, extremely confused and slightly concerned that a fan found our address and sent roses to one of the boys. I set the vase down on the kitchen table and read the note attached.

I’m sorry dream Matt is so stupid, but your real Matt adores you and would do anything to make you happy. Dinner tonight at 7 as an apology? Love, your wonderful loving boyfriend ;)

I just about curl into a ball and start sobbing right there. How did I get so lucky?

I head back to our room and snuggle back into him, kissing his cheek softly.

“Hmmmm,” he hums, still half asleep. 

“I love you,” I whisper. “When did you order the roses?”

“I love you too, baby. Last night after you fell back asleep,” he replies, his eyes still closed and his groggy morning voice evident. 

I give him one last kiss as a thank you before we fall asleep for the rest of the morning.

[tinytennisskirt]

Hall Pass

Patrick Zweig x Art'sGirlfriend!Reader

Summary: Patrick has been wanting Art's girlfriend for too long. He's not proud of it. When you, Art, Tashi, and Patrick go to a frat party, Patrick finds himself in a compromising position alone with you and maybe... gives in.

Warnings: drinking, mentions of masturbation, slight blowjob, patrick going down, tipsy sex (consensual), yearning, cheating but it's not actually cheating...

Patrick hated wanting you. It was the worst part of his every day. Crossing paths with you, he hated every moment. Seeing you after your classes, he hated every second. Every millisecond he spent alone with you he hated with an incredible fiery passion and it was awful- because what he hated more than anything is what it would do to Art if he found out just how badly Patrick wanted his girlfriend.

It was Jessie’s Girl on the radio. Stupid fucking song, Patrick thought. You, Tashi, Art, and Patrick were sitting in your dorm room talking about tennis. Art had his arm around you, leaned up against the wall on the pink comforter of your elevated bed. Every now and then, Patrick noticed how you leaned your head toward Art and he would kiss your forehead in the sweetest of ways and it was just sickening.

Tashi snapped in Patrick’s face. “Earth to Patrick?” She said, gesturing in question. Patrick turned his head.

“Hm?”

“What did you think of Art’s backhand today?” She asked. Patrick looked at Art, then back at Tashi.

“It was fine, I mean he didn’t lunge enough on that first big one, but it was fine.” He half-assed a response. He looked at you, pretending to understand the conversation. You weren’t at Stanford for tennis, you were there for creative writing and Patrick knew just how disinterested and tired you must have been from being at the court all day and coming back just to talk about tennis. “Can we change the topic though, Tashi? We’re boring Y/N to death.” He gestured to you.

You chucked, “I’m fine, I’ll live.” You said. Art chuckled and apologized. You were sweet the way you smiled, the way your lips pulled back to reveal the prettiest teeth. Patrick fucking hated it. “I do have to ask if you guys heard about the party later?”

Everyone perked up, even Tashi, who was usually still stuck on the topic of tennis. “At the frat?” Art asked.

“Yeah,” you replied, small smile still there. “We could go to that if you guys aren’t tired. I know Patrick has been in need of an excuse to drink for ages now.” You referenced him and it took all he had not to explode. You made it so hard to breathe around Art, it practically suffocated him.

“Yeah, we can go,” Art said, sitting up. His arm removed itself from around you and Patrick hated his internal rejoice. “They start at like, nine right?”

Tashi stood up, “Nine. That’s in forty minutes, meaning we are kicking you both out and meeting you at Art’s dorm to pregame. You still have the giant vodka bottle right?”

“Under my bed,” Art grinned and stood up before kissing you goodbye. Patrick had to look away. “Sounds perfect. See you soon.”

Art pulled Patrick out of the room, leaving you and Tashi to get ready. The moment they were out of the room, both boys braced each other with excitement. Frat parties meant unbridled college drinking and quite possibly a cigarette or two as well as girls in minimal clothing. Patrick recalled the last time you all went to a party, you wore a t-shirt that looked a little too snug on you and when you were drunk you confessed to Patrick you bought it in the kids section of the thrift store. Patrick could not get the thought of you in the little shirt out of his mind for weeks after that.

“Tonight you can make a move on Tashi,” Art said, punching Patrick in the arm. It snapped him out of his trance once again. “Once the drinks get on, you know, make your move.”

“Not sure if I should yet,” You told him. Tashi was your front for liking you. It was simple- if you turned Patrick on in any way, he blamed Tashi if Art asked about it. If he blushed, if he did anything telltale, he blamed Tashi. So Art was sure Patrick was head over heels for her and not you. His cover. “I think I’d like it better if we were sober.” He reasoned. It was a fake reason.

“And let her hook up with some frat guy?”

“It’s college, she can do what she wants. It would mean more sober.” He did not care that much.

“Ah,” Art nodded. The two boys sat in Art’s room and tossed a stray tennis ball back and forth. Art spoke again, “Oh I didn’t tell you but Y/N and I had what was probably the greatest sex of my- hoping OUR lives last night. I’m telling you the ‘coconut’ thing is very real, all credit to her for it.”

Patrick felt nauseous, but the idea of it was enough to pull a pillow over his lap. “Damn, I think I read about that in a magazine. It’s that good?” He had to engage, unfortunately.

“Oh yeah,” Art nodded, raising his eyebrows. “I’ve never had a girl do that to me, it was crazy.”

The conversation went on and it was hard and Patrick was hard and overall it was just a shitty situation and Patrick hated it. He took the deepest breath to get through it. Eventually the conversation was over with a knock on the door. Art was fast to get it. Tashi was visible first.

“You guys didn’t even change,” she said.

Art shrugged, “Should we have?”

“Probably, the theme is traffic lights. You’re wearing green, buddy, that tells women you’re go to hookup.” She pointed at Art’s green shirt. Patrick peered to see if you were behind Tashi, but you weren’t. “Y/N is finishing her eyeliner she’ll be over in a second. You two, change.” Tashi said. She was wearing green, Patrick noticed before she shut the door. Art threw two red shirts on his bed from the dresser under it.

“You going green tonight?” He asked, taking off the shirt he was wearing and tossing it to Patrick.

“For sure,” Patrick grinned. Art took out the big bottle of vodka from under the bed and took a swig before pulling on a red polo shirt. Patrick pulled on Art’s green shirt and did up the buttons but not all the way. He handed Patrick the bottle and Patrick took a swig. Tasted awful with no mixer, Patrick knew you’d complain. He dug in his pockets for change and found he had enough for a bottle of Coke, which he’d get on the way there.

Art opened the door just as you approached Tashi and both of the girls walked in. Patrick’s eyes fell on you all too easily. You were wearing black, a black skirt, a square-neckline tank top. There was no red or green on you, but fuck, you looked gorgeous. Patrick noted your perfect eyeliner and the perfume you usually wore to parties and he hated the way it filled the room when you walked in.

“I don’t own any yellow,” you said, shrugging. Nobody batted an eye. You kissed Art, who was wearing the brightest of reds and Tashi grabbed ahold of the big vodka bottle and took her swig. Patrick didn’t say a word, but slipped out to the vending machine just down the hall, returning with a bottle of Coke which he knew you’d probably need now for a mixer. He put it right in your hands wordlessly, even when you said thank you.

Tashi wore a green tank too much like yours, but it didn’t look the same or as flattering. Patrick wondered if maybe he would turn Tashi into a real distraction, but even if he was drinking, would she really be worth it? He was wearing green, so he probably wouldn’t have to settle for Tashi, but at this point, looking at you in that skirt, that top, focusing on the small sliver of your waist that showed in the middle and the way your collarbones looked against the black of the shirt, he knew he would HAVE to find a distraction tonight. Especially if he was drinking heavily, which he did plan on doing.

You all decided to go around 9:40, just before girls had to pay to get in. Everyone had a decent buzz and you’d filled half of your coke bottle with vodka, so you were set. Patrick found it endearing you couldn’t drink vodka straight- kind of cute. Patrick tried to ignore how you and Art walked hand-in-hand. He took the big bottle and took another large swig.

The party was loud and pretty packed on both floors. Stuffy, too. You immediately dragged Tashi away to dance with you, a complete lightweight. Patrick decided to occupy himself by teaming up with Art at cup pong. The beer was flowing, the vodka was passed around and girls were asking Patrick to come with them downstairs, upstairs.

“I’m going to find Y/N!” Art yelled to Patrick over the music. Patrick nodded, being pulled one way by a redhead who looked nothing like you. Any distraction he could take, really. She kissed him but he hated it. She was sloppy, slobbery, and he made an excuse and walked away. He spotted you and Art, and even with the alcohol you’d had it was not easy to see how you kissed him. You were shorter than Art was, which meant you were shorter than Patrick and the kiss was strong and Patrick just couldn’t look away no matter how much it hurt to see. He hated it. Every second of it.

He turned away and shook his head, saving himself. And he walked up the stairs just for a better view of things. He opened doors to multiple people making out, but the room at the end was surprisingly empty. And Patrick entered and locked the door. He laid down on the bed on his back, the ceiling spinning and the music downstairs muffled but echoing around his head.

Why did you have to be so hot? Why did you have to be so gorgeous? Fuck, it was stupid how into you Patrick was, so head over heels and dumb over you. A million girls at a party and all he could think about was you, just you, only you, all you. You and Art, kissing, touching, the details of the sex just spun around his head. It made him hard, he hated it, he hated how guilty it made him feel. He hated thinking about your perfect waist in that top, he hated thinking about your tits in that top, he hated thinking about what you’d look like without it. It was stupid. Patrick rubbed his eyes and swore at himself. “Fuck.” And tried to put you out of his head. He waited for the boner to die down before going back out to the party to hopefully find a distraction and keep it so that he kept away, but the second he opened the door, there you were. Outside of it. “Y/N,” he said.

“Patrick!” You greeted him. “I’ve been waiting for the bathroom for like ten minutes.”

You were drunk. Patrick peered back into the master bedroom he was in, “There’s one in here?” He suggested. You slipped past him in seconds, your scent wafting. He shut the door behind you. He waited until you came back out, guarding the door just in case.

“Thank you,” you said, fixing your skirt as you came out of the bathroom. “Have you seen Art, by any chance? He said he was going to play cup pong but I didn’t see him.”

“I haven’t,” Patrick answered, eyes lingering on your frame.

“That’s fine,” you nodded, walking over to Patrick. You stood in front of him, looking up. “Have you seen Tashi?” You asked. Patrick stepped back. “Okay, are you afraid of me, what’s that about?”

He didn’t think you’d notice. “I haven’t seen… Tashi and no, not afraid.” Patrick chuckled, even through the alcohol. He hardly had it in himself to laugh, he was going through every possibility right now. He hated that he was alone with you, he wanted you to leave, he actually was quite afraid at the moment.

“You stepped back,” you said. “Do I smell bad or something?"

“Not at all, you smell good,” Patrick spoke faster than he could think. “I’m just- maybe we should find Art.”

“Or we could just stay here and let him find us. It’s so much quieter in here.” You stepped toward him again and brushed your hair behind your ears. “You’re tall. I never noticed just how tall you are.” You told him. He almost laughed, he would have if you were anyone else. “What is your problem?” You asked, sounding almost offended.

“Nothing, nothing,” Patrick said. He hated how close you were to him. He hated how good you smelled, he hated how he was above you and could see you all too clearly. “Nothing is my… problem.” He swallowed hard. He had too much to drink for this.

“I’m surprised you’re in green,” you said, changing the topic again. Drunk you was all too believing, at least you wouldn’t catch on. “I thought maybe you’d have yellow because of things with Tashi. But Tashi is also in green.”

“Tashi isn’t my type,” Patrick let slip. You looked at him curiously- he hoped you wouldn’t remember. “And you’re in black, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Means I don’t own anything yellow,” you reminded him, stepping closer when Patrick took another step back. Patrick was about to start sweating even in the air conditioning of this one specific room. You looked at Patrick through your eyelashes and he fought all the blood in his body from moving downwards. He debated running, he debated leaping out the window, anything. He didn’t even want to meet your eyes. “Patrick.” You said his name and he was throbbing. He hated you, he hated this, he hated this room, this bed, this lighting, your stupid lack of yellow.

Yellow?

“You were going to wear yellow?”

“Mhm,” drunk you nodded. “I like red but it’s not me.”

“Yeah…” Patrick said. He stepped back and you stepped forward. He was truthfully very afraid of this version of you.

“Art likes red, he used to be green, but now he likes red. And I’ve never been a red kind of girl.” You continued. He stepped back, and you stepped forward. Patrick was a lot bigger than you, but he was being backed into a corner. “I like yellow a lot more.”

“Yeah but Art likes red, so there’s that and…you…” Patrick said with almost a panic to his voice. His heart beat fast in his chest, he couldn’t finish his sentence the way you were looking at him. “Fuck, Y/N, I’m so confused.”

You grinned and put your hands on your hips, you were so gorgeous when you smiled like that. Patrick’s insides did a backflip. You shook your head, your perfect hair flowing. “Art is red, I am yellow. Art knows I’m yellow.” You said. Patrick shook his head. There was silence and you blinked hard before speaking in the flattest tone.

“Patrick, I know you want to fuck me.”

He went cold. His whole body went cold. He wondered if he was hearing things, he wondered if she really just called him out here, drunk, in a room alone. He must have been dreaming of having a nightmare but it was something for sure. All he could choke out was, “H-hm?” You looked at him knowingly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He said.

“So you’re going to pretend like you haven’t been thinking about it all night?” You prodded. Fuck, Patrick thought, I’m losing my mind. He was thinking maybe he had alcohol poisoning because you were sweet and you were cute and what you just said was... hot.

Patrick played dumb. “Thinking about what?”

“What it would feel like to fuck me.” You answered, too bluntly. Maybe he was dead and this was an afterlife. “I know you think about it. I know when you want it. I know you’re not that into Tashi.” You called him out. His skin burned red hot. You were reading his mind. He had no idea you, so sweet, could talk like this. Could even revolve around this.

“Y/N, I- you can’t be saying shit like that,” as if he wasn’t hard. As if you didn’t notice every time you’d made him hard before.

“Like it’s not true, Patrick. Tell me it’s not true.”

He blinked. He couldn’t. “I-“

“Fuck me.” You said. You didn’t ask.

“Whatttt the fuckkk,” Patrick dragged out. This wasn’t real. This was some wet dream. He wanted to say yes, he wanted to say no. He never hated you more than he did in this very moment. “I can’t.”

“You can, I know you can,” you said, stepping closer. “I want you to.”

This was scripted. This was a test. This was evil. All the possibilities ran through your head. “Why?” That is all he could choke out.

“Art likes sharing with you, does he not?” You gestured to Art’s shirt he was wearing. “Patrick, I know you want to. I’m not asking.”

“Fuck, I-“ he would consent. He would consent a thousand times if it wasn’t his best friend's goddamn girlfriend. You looked at him with those eyes, those eyes he absolutely hated. You were perfect and you were asking for it, and you were still Art's. You were Art's.

Fuck, this was awful. And there was nobody Patrick hated more than himself when he kissed you.

Full force, so hard you stumbled backward. His large hands cupped your face. You tasted sweet like cherry coke and kissing you was everything he’d wanted and fucking more. You kissed back with more than he had even been able to imagine, hands gripping his shirt tight. Art's shirt. You were Art's. You were everything.

Patrick didn’t waste a fucking second, his hands traveled smoothly down from your jaw to your chest, your waist-god your perfect fucking waist- your hips, your ass. You wrapped your arms around his neck and there was nothing more guilt-bringing than the way your lips grazed along his jaw and neck, kissing a trail so easily.

You weren’t sloppy, despite the alcohol, it felt calculated, it felt fucking good. He wondered still if he was dreaming but the crude awakening was that this was wrong. It might have been everything, but it was wrong and it was shady and it was fucking dirty but you were here and you were kissing him and you were locking the door, and fuck, you were too perfect.

From the second he met you, Patrick wanted you. You’d kept him up at night, distracted him during the day, you threw his tennis game and for all of that he hated you. He hated your perfect fucking lips, how soft they were, how they felt when you got on your knees, undid his fly, pulled away boxers and put them over his dick. He hated your soft hands and how they assisted. He hated your perfect eyes, your perfect eyelashes that you looked up at him through. He hated the noise you were forcing out of him as your head bobbed. It took all he had not to push your head down, but he wasn’t an asshole despite how desperate he was to feel more of you.

“Fuck,” Patrick groaned. The sight was too much. The guilt set in the more he looked at you, perfect, on your knees for him. You were Art's. He stopped you, though. But only to kiss you again. The bed was right there but he dropped to his knees on the fluffy carpet and kissed your neck, down your neck. You raised your arms and he practically ripped your shirt off to reveal you in the most perfect bra he’d ever seen. God, you were so beautiful. You arched your back and Patrick didn’t miss a beat unclipping your bra with one hand. You threw it across the room.

His mouth traveled down your chest, taking a nipple in his mouth. The small whine you made was fucking intoxicating and there was something to be said about the way it made his cock twitch. Kissing down your stomach, Patrick unzipped your skirt. It was all too easy.

This was so wrong, he thought, looking at the lace of your underwear. No shirt, no skirt, and shoes already gone. O,h it was so crude, the way you slipped your underwear down right then and there, leaving yourself entirely bare for him on the floor. He discarded his pants and boxers, pulling off Art’s shirt. It landed with the lightest thud and there was nothing left there shared by Patrick and Art but you.

Patrick kissed down your stomach, sick as he imagined Art doing the very same. But he wondered how good Art was as Patrick gently opened your legs to reveal just how soaked you were. Practically dripping. There was nothing, no morals going to stop him from burying his face in you. And he did just that.

“Fuck!” You cried out as heat spread throughout your whole body. “Patrick!” You squealed as he licked gently over your clit. He’d barely done anything- but Patrick took pride in his tongue skills, so it wasn’t too surprising. And you tasted perfect- better than he had imagined. Sweet, but the way someone should. And it was more intoxicating than anything alcoholic present. He pushed his face into your cunt, licking as deep into you as he could, licking stripes all the way up and all the way down and drawing circles on your clit with his tongue. You squirmed at all of it, breathing heavily, unable to control the noises you were making. He seemed to have found a sweet spot not on, but near your clit and he tongued a pattern into it and snuck his fingers over, gently rubbing above your entrance before slipping his pointer and middle finger into you. Your back arched, bringing him closer as he simultaneously pumped his fingers into you and licked.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you moaned. “Oh god.” You pulled his hair, and you gripped the carpet. Patrick, who was untouched, finished right then and there. As he let out a strained groan, he didn’t stop either action. His fingers pumped in and out of you, wet, soaked, tongue tasting you without end. “I’m going to-“ you moaned and breathed heavily, “Fuck, Patrick, don’t stop!” You ordered. Feeling you tighten, he only worsened his pace and in seconds you came undone on his hand and face.

Your chest heaved, your eyes shut. Patrick was drunk on you, he was dazed- he was so fucked. But you were a slut, apparently. His at the moment, turning around where you lay on the carpet and climbing onto the bed. Patrick was so fucking glad he had two condoms in his pocket that he dug into there was nothing that could stop him from fucking you absolutely senseless at the moment. He was frenzied, out of control and this was so fucking wrong, but with your taste still on his lips how could he not?

He got up, rolling the condom on as you situated yourself on the bed, ass facing him. He was dreaming, this was not real. You weren't real, but you were Art's. Patrick couldn't help himself. “This is okay?” He asked, just making sure. He itched for it, he had itched for it for what felt like forever, and at this point, his desperation and the situation were too much. All of his morals were fucking destroyed.

“Yes.” You said with enough enthusiasm that Patrick had no problem fucking into you from behind. You cried out in pain, not used to something so thick, but you were so wet, it slipped in like nothing. And Patrick grabbed your hips hard enough that tomorrow you’d be bruised. And he fucked you shamelessly as if Art wasn’t even a factor in this equation. It was so wrong, but back arched and stomach against the bed, you were his at the moment. His to fuck. Who cared about the aftermath when you felt so good?

You were perfect and tight and wet and the noise of skin on skin was like music. You cried out every time Patrick thrust into you, feeling him absolutely fill you every single time. He wondered if Art ever fucked you this hard, filled you so well. He wondered if you sounded like this with him, a moaning mess.

“Fuck!” You cried out, “Harder!” As if you weren’t already taking it hard and fast. Patrick had no problem slamming into you, rough as if this had been months in the making. As if he didn’t picture this every time he was alone in bed. As if he didn’t dream about this. You grabbed onto the bed for dear life and Patrick was nearing his end.

“I’m so close, you feel s- you feel so good,” Patrick choked out. It was too easy, but he didn’t want it to be over. The warning was good enough for you apparently because you purposefully tightened around him, pulling him dangerously close to the edge. “Fuck, you feel amazing.” Patrick groaned.

“Fuck me harder,” you begged. And Patrick used all of the force he had to fuck you, the headboard slamming against the wall so hard it put a small dent in it. You moaned so loudly, Patrick swore to never let that sound go and saved it like an audio file to his memory. “I’m so-“

“Fuck, I’m going to come,” Patrick said.

“Yes,” you moaned. “Fuck, Patrick.”

He gripped your ass and waist and pulled you back onto him as he fucked you harder than ever and you almost shrieked from how good it felt to be so filled, so fucked as Patrick spilled into you. Your mouth hung a little open as you followed suit, letting out every noise you felt and breathing heavily. Patrick swore as he finished that he saw a flash of light, something of the sort, maybe he saw God. His orgasm was long, leaving him practically twitching and he filled the condom with everything he didn’t know he had.

You were a sweet girl, no wonder you liked it rough. Patrick was sweaty, fucked out, and pulled out, pulling off the condom and collapsing flat on his back. You sighed and laid there, absolutely ruined. Your mascara streaked down your face from how good you were fucked.

“Oh my god.” This post-nut clarity was the worst. It hit Patrick that he just fucked the living daylights out of his best friend’s girlfriend. The guilt came at him like a semi-truck. Patrick had just fucked up majorly, he was starting to think up ways to disappear. “Fuck.”

“Hm?” You mumbled, absolutely whipped.

Patrick rubbed his face, trying to get rid of the feeling, but it settled in. Fuck, he had just fucked the girl he was completely obsessed with but at what fucking cost? She was drinking, he was drinking, what the fuck would they do about this? How would they get out of this?

“I’m fucking awful,” Patrick groaned and not in the good way. He cleaned up with a nearby tissue and put his boxers and pants back on. His heart beat fast in his chest, he wasn’t rested enough from the sex so it all came like a headrush.

“Why?” You asked, still laying perfectly naked on the bed

“The fuck do you mean why?” Patrick said a bit more harshly than he intended. “I just fucked my best friend’s girlfriend.”

“Oh relax,” you said, sitting up. You were so perfect, Patrick couldn’t hate anything about you. “He’s fine with it.”

Patrick choked on absolutely nothing and it turned into a cough. “He’s what?”

“He said I could,” you replied, pulling your bra back on, then your shirt. Patrick stood there, dumbfounded, putting his shirt back on. “Patrick, it’s okay.” You chuckled.

“How? Why?” He put his hands behind his head, just dumbfounded.

You slipped into the bathroom and Patrick waited for your reply. What the fuck- what the fuck? Part of Art knowing was so fucking embarrassing but at the same time confusing? You slipped back out, “I’m yellow tonight, remember? Art knows. And he likes that it’s you and not some stranger.”

“He let you? He knows?”

“Oh yeah. And I wouldn't go for anyone else anyways. You grinned, putting your underwear and skirt back on. “That was… I’m… you were.” He didn’t expect to face you stuttering. “I’ve never been eaten out like that before.”

Patrick laughed and you giggled. Somehow, in some fucked up way, he was in the clear? He guessed it was Art-like to share his girlfriend. But there was no way- “Really?”

“Never. You're good.” You smiled your winning smile and both of you fixed yourselves up again without talking about it. Patrick was more than satisfied and satiated. All of that was crazy, but so good. He'd finally have to stop using his imagination late at night now. He wondered how much Art actually knew... Like clockwork, there was a knock on the door. Patrick's heart still skipped. You hopped over and answered the door.

"Found you," Art grinned. You smiled and kissed him, wrapping your arms around his neck, and for once, it didn't make Patrick feel sick. He'd kissed you too now, it was easier to self-insert. He almost laughed at the thought. "You guys okay?"

"Oh, yeah," You nodded. "I'm gonna go find Tashi and we can go in a bit!"

"Sounds good," Art said. Patrick silently wished you wouldn't go, but you were gone. Art came in and shut the door. "You guys..." He lead on. Patrick's heart raced. But Art just laughed, "Did she do the coconut thing?"

Patrick rubbed his eyes, still a little shellshocked at the situation. Art knew his best friend, "You're her hall pass. I already took mine when we started dating." Art continued. "We both had one for our college eras. Plus, I don't really mind all that much. Thought I would, but it's you, so."

His heart slowed just a little, "Hall pass." he repeated like it was foreign. Art walked over and clapped Patrick on the back, their faces close.

"Yeah. It kept things interesting." Art said with a grin. "So are you going to tell me about it or are you just going to stand there looking like you've seen a ghost?"

Patrick couldn't help the grin that came with that true relief. He hadn't fucked himself over, Art was asking about it like you were something shared. Laughing over it, even and answering all his questions, asking your own. You were now, hall pass wearer of the year, with the door between two best friends. As bad as Patrick was feeling about it still- he knew he'd be satisfied from now on. The relief was also that he couldn't hate you so much now. It would be easier for sure.

As far as this went, it was rarely referenced from that point on. Things moved forward like nothing even happened. It was easy and natural and done with. But nobody truly forgot, not Patrick, for sure. Something to go down in your college-era lore and nothing more.