#i wrote this last night when i couldn't sleep

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FROM WHEN HARRY MET SALLY *  assorted dialogue, adjust as necessary

i've been doing a lot of thinking, and the thing is, i love you.

i love that you get cold when it's 71 degrees out.

i love that it takes you an hour and a half to order a sandwich.

i love that you get a little crinkle above your nose when you're looking at me like i'm nuts.

i love that after i spend the day with you, i can still smell your perfume on my clothes.

i love that you are the last person i want to talk to before i go to sleep at night.

i came here tonight because when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.

i'll have what she's having.

would you like to have dinner?

i thought you didn't believe men and women could be friends.

when did i say that?

i mean, come on, who the hell are we kidding?

most women at one time or another have faked it.

they haven't faked it with me.

that's right. i forgot. you're a man.

what was that supposed to mean?

it is so nice when you can sit with someone and not have to talk.

marriages don't break up on account of infidelity. it's just a symptom that something else is wrong.

you realize of course that we could never be friends.

men and women can't be friends because the sex part always gets in the way.

that's not true.

i have a number of men friends and there is no sex involved.

you only think you do.

they all want to have sex with you.

no man can be friends with a woman that he finds attractive.

i guess we're not going to be friends then.

you were the only person i knew in new york.

there are two kinds of women: high maintenance and low maintenance.

which one am i?

you're the worst kind.

you're high maintenance but you think you're low maintenance.

i just want it the way i want it.

you look like a normal person, but actually you are the angel of death.

don't you have a dark side?

when i buy a new book, i read the last page first.

if you could take him back now, would you?

why didn't he want to marry me?

what's the matter with me?

you're challenging.

i'm too structured. i'm completely closed off.

i drove him away.

how do you expect me to respond to this?

i'm leaving.

i don't have to take this crap from you.

what the hell does that have to do with anything?

are you finished now?

can i say something?

i'm sorry.

everybody thinks they have good taste and a sense of humor but they couldn't possibly all have good taste.

that is just like you.

you say things like that, and you make it impossible for me to hate you.

at least i got the apartment.

the first time we met, we hated each other.

we were friends for a long time.

it only took three months.

you will never have to be out there again.

i'm not going to tell you that.

i miss her.

you know what i miss? i miss the idea of him.

when did this happen?

you don't bounce back from that right away.

doesn't what i said mean anything for you?

i hate you, [name]. i really hate you.

what can i get you?

no one has ever quoted me back to me before.

you know, i'm so glad i never got involved with you.

i am not your consolation prize.

i wrote that.

you're going to have to try and find a way of not expressing every feeling that you have, every moment that you have them.

[tozettastone]

Back in 2021, I wrote a fic that was about one way (of many) I think Kakuzu's body might work.

I think this is also basically how his body works in the Murakami Madeline OC series (otherwise known as Deadbeat).

Here's the relevant excerpt:

--

When they first partnered, Hidan had watched in unfettered delight as Kakuzu snagged a bird from its nest in one detached hand, reeled its crying and thrashing body in, and wrung its neck—crunch—before pulling parts off to eat.

He didn't really notice the sharpness of talons or hooked beak as they went down.

Kakuzu couldn't taste that much. And there was very little he could not "digest".

Kakuzu didn't have a stomach anymore.

He didn't have a liver or kidneys, and even his brainstem was full of pulsing ragdoll threads. He used to think he could feel them, coiling and uncoiling through his organs. Maybe he could, way back then, but now the pain had gone and so had the sensation of them.

Unlike Sasori's careful mechanisms and efficient, precision engineering, Kakuzu's body was built on a foundation of excess: the Earth Grudge Fear technique expected five hearts. It could get by with one for a while, two for longer—but it was only really sustainable with five. Five people's chakra, drawn throbbing into long sturdy threads, running through a grievously mutilated body. When one failed, eaten up at last by the unrelenting demands of the technique, Kakuzu simply replaced it.

It was fanciful to contemplate how many strong ninja he'd sacrificed on the altar of longevity. He didn't occupy himself with wondering about it, except late at night, when the stars wheeled in the black sky overhead and he couldn't sleep. He didn't sleep much, now, either. His brain was absent and he had a mind like a steel trap, a machine that could run forever as long as he had enough stolen fuel. He didn't tire. He didn't need to sleep.

So Kakuzu lacked a stomach, like he lacked lungs, like he lacked most of his brain and all of his spleen, and yet: he had to eat. Whatever secret Sasori had unlocked that allowed him to go hungry permanently, the cruder arts behind the Earth Grudge Fear technique weren't equal to it. He'd been made resource heavy, and he needed the fuel to burn.

"That is disgusting," Hidan said, eyes gleaming, teeth bared, overcome with glee. "I wanna try it."

--

The fic itself is "The One Where Kakuzu and Hidan Share A Meal," this one: https://archiveofourown.org/works/35983405

[aliresix]

WIP TAG GAME

Rules: In a new post, show the last line you wrote and tag as many people as there are words.

ty so much for tagging me, @spacejammie-eimmajecaps!

The exact moment he asked for the second time, he wished he had never done it.

tagging: @4mph1b10us @its-a-journal-of-ideals @nastyaex @totallymyapples @themultifandomdisaster @demolitionlovrsskk @ anyone else who wants to, really!

[melit0n]

EUCLID ANALYSIS.

Part one -> Title and meaning

Part two -> You're already here!

Part three -> Line by line analysis part two

Part four -> Musical/intrumental notes

Part five -> The Night in Sleep Token

Part six -> Conclusion

“Just run it back, give me five whole minutes” → The song itself is five minutes and 13 seconds long, but Vessel only starts singing these lyrics at the 13-second mark. As the listener, you give him five whole minutes to say what he’s gotta say, but he still asks for more time. I see it as a representation of humanity. A set lifetime to do and say so many things, to change in so many ways, but it never seems to be enough.

A realisation, a revelation almost, develops across this song; change is inevitable, and that’s okay, and that having a set lifetime, having five whole minutes, is entirely what makes people human. What makes humanity.

“Thick tar on the inside burning” → This is a vivid description that can symbolise depression. Tar is a very viscous liquid that causes physical damage (rashes, headaches etc.) by merely touching it, plus, it’s very easy to get stuck in it; to let yourself be consumed by it, like depression. It’s used in literature as a metaphor to represent the feeling of being weighed down or emotionally trapped, afterall.

It could also be in reference to the visualisers for the whole album, which ends in a black liquid pouring out of the album art creatures.

“I’ve got a ghost in the hallway grinning” → This is both a callback to ‘The Apparition’, and a symbol for the past. Ghosts are relics of the past; haunting places and people they can’t let go of because they don’t know how, which means the Ghost in the hallway grinning can either be about Sleep, the people in Vessel’s past, or about Vessel himself.

Grinning is typically associated with joy, however, in this context, it adds a much more ominous feeling to the line. It implies that The Ghost is mocking Vessel with his past, finding amusement in his suffering at recalling what he wants to leave behind.

“And a heavy head that won't stop turning” → This describes how Vessel is burdened by his past that just won't leave him alone. He’s constantly kept awake by memories that taunt him, keeping him in a state of emotional turbulence.

“If my fate is a bad collision” → Callback to Granite and its foreboding theme of car crashes. ‘Bad collision’ suggests a sense of inevitability and a negative outcome. An argument in a car that goes a little bit too far and ends badly. However, what’s interesting is the comparison of fate with collisions; it illustrates the feeling of Vessel being caught up in circumstances beyond his control. His past, present and future are controlled (by Sleep) and he can do absolutely nothing about it.

“And if my mind is an open highway” → This line flows perfectly with the previous lyric. In contrast to the presented idea of fate as a collision, this line portrays Vessel’s mind as a vast, open space symbolised by a highway. Highways are typically associated with freedom, movement, and endless possibilities, but, matched with the previous line, the freedom becomes terrifying because of the way Vessel has spent his known life following fate. It becomes predestination versus free will. Divinity versus humanity. Lore-wise, it creates a perfect representation of Vessel as a vessel; a human holding a God inside his body and having to deal with it.

“Give me the twilight two-way vision” → Yet again, lyrically, duality is brought back. Twilight is the transition zone between day and night and it symbolizes mystery and threshold between opposing states. The choice of twilight over sunset or dawn, for example, suggests a desire for a moment of transition, change, as opposed to the stark clarity of daylight or the complete darkness of night. Vessel does not want the past, daylight, but he does not want his present either (night).

Further, The term ‘two-way vision’ introduces the idea of seeing life from two different perspectives, which could be about Vessel’s past and present self, Vessel and his partner, or Vessel and Sleep. The concept of this dual vision implies the recognition of the coexistence of opposites. It could also be in reference to Higher’s “‘Cause I look for scarlet and you look for ultraviolet”.

“Give me one last ride on a sunset sky lane” → The phrase ‘one last ride’ implies a sense of finality or a farewell, which links to the theory that Euclid is a eulogy above all things. Vessel is asking for one last good thing before he leaves– changes– for good. A change between day and night is yet again brought up here; sunsets bring the night, which “comes down like Heaven”; it’s the last few minutes of time Vessel has to himself before he has to devote the Holy hours of the night to Sleep. The end of the day is a time often associated with reflection, and contemplation and is one of the transitions from day to night, which is also right before twilight.

“Call me when you get the chance” → Can either interpreted as a message from Vessel to his partner, to Sleep or vice versa. The echo-y effect placed on the lyric makes it feel almost like a voicemail as well.

“I can feel the walls around me closing in” → With this lyric, the previous line can now be interpreted as a plea for help. A ‘Please help me, but only if I’m not an inconvenience. I know we are not what we were, but I need your comfort again’.

Further, walls built up around people are typically used as symbolism for boundaries; metaphorical walls put up around a person to stop them from getting hurt. Vessels’ walls are collapsing in on him because he’s changing and learning how to trust again (which is good), but it scares him enough for him to try and go back to the past. Go back to the ghost in the hallway grinning. Overall, it creates a very claustrophobic and visceral image.

“Just running forwards, a life like wires” → Wires, robots and algorithms are referenced a multitude of times throughout the whole album, which this lyric carries on. Despite it all, the vessel is running through the complicated mess of wires that is life. To quote Genius; ‘the path taken has been inevitable. The wires will continue to carry the circuit forward, and instances of life are inevitable, similar to how some view life as being ‘written in the stars’’. Which means, again, fate and predestination are being referenced.

“As I see the past on an empty ceiling” → Vessel’s memories continue to haunt him, no matter how far he runs from them. However, Vessel is still running despite it all. He’s accepting the limited amount of time he has as well as that whatever has happened is in the past now.

Plus, an empty ceiling quite literally suggests moving out and moving on; the bare ceiling which doesn’t have all the familiar stains on it reflects what once was like a mirror for him.

[vulpinesaint]

i’m secretly in love with you

wow... beautiful world... that's crazy cause you are ma chèrie mon ange mon cœur ma vie. t'es la plus jolie femme du monde et c'est simplement la verité...

[kalashtars]

i need professors to start including their late work policies in syllabi again. i'm trying to make strategic decisions here

[bluesunsdusk]

--// Time for angry jerboa bot metas or whatever they're called.

While Setesh's faction is noted in the bio to be the resistance, this doesn't mean it is THE resistance of Operation White Dome, it just means they're affiliated with at least one of the many groups of underground omnics out there. So, maybe omnic underground would be a more suitable name.

They generally stick to the continents of Europe and Asia, but might be in North Africa at times. The locations they travel between differ wildly in how omnics are treated. They are less likely to try and conceal their unit model in places where omnics are generally treated better. Mainly, because they wouldn't be a wanted criminal (anymore...and yet) in several of those areas, but anyway...

They have never been to Numbani. They're skeptical of the peace and unity people say it has and really rather not find out whether or not it's true, because either outcome will have...results. They may go to other places on occasion, mainly to aid other omnics.

Maximilien uses Set as an escort for his weapons trades and for the occasional intimidation or elimination of rivals. Set dislikes him and how he sometimes goes into subtle prying lines of questioning.

Set still believes their omnium only acted in self defense after being deactivated by humans. Why yes I do hate the Anubis plot reveal in Ramattra's short story because it reduces the omnic crisis to mindless evil robot war. I will continue to ignore it by having Set be a conspiracy theorist who thinks the omniums are intelligent enough to register a threat and build defenses to protect themselves. Set will continue to regard their omnium as some sort of mother figure and trying to kill their mother is not okay.

After having collected the remains of several units Null Sector deployed in the London uprising, the underground now has several repurposed former Null Sector units in its ranks. The few that aren't dormant protect the units in the abandoned subway systems.

The first sets of Null Sector units the few members of the underground involved in the project successfully reactivated and changed the directives of after Set realized the units were not yet "awoken" were Slicers, because of their slightly less robust programming.

After encountering a Nulltrooper unit who was butchered and slapped back together by a local, they realized the units could be salvaged as more than mindless constructs and they went to work trying to figure it out. Some were more successful than others.

For now, those who haven't reached that same stage as other omnics have in their sentience are kept around anyway, with the only alteration being that they won't march into the streets to continue the omnic crisis when active. Most of those are kept dormant and only activate when there is a threat.

Not all omnics in the underground are as comfortable with them as others, but the patchwork Nulltrooper keeps an eye on them.

Set and that Nulltrooper have a very odd relationship. They don't always agree on everything. Null detests the thought of any unit not having free will and being used as a tool. Set sees it as an occasional necessity to use an unawaken unit for its intended purpose.

The Nulltrooper also hates Ramattra. It doesn't understand why Set would still look up to him after learning what he did. It also makes jabs at Set from time to time, but seeing as Set had a hand in repairing it and Set clearly cares deeply for the omnics down there, it's generally alright with them and would fight someone to protect them. They have fought side-by-side and both employ a hit and run tactic after Null was equipped with boosters that let it navigate like the guy in Vanquish. We gave a hero that ability before Sojourn went live. Jot that down.

One of the omnics developed a course called "Hello world!" It is intended to teach newly awakened units about the world, how to navigate society and developing their individuality.

EVE, another ally, stays with the London units and was with them when Mondatta was assassinated. Null stayed underground.

Set, Null and EVE are both in agreement regarding the difference in treatment less humanoid units get even in the more tolerant areas and would like there to be more awareness regarding this expressed from the omnic community.

There is a makeshift plaque in one of the areas of the London underground the omnics reside in listing names and/or designations of units that have passed away.

Set participated and spoken in several protests through their life, many of which turned violent. They never preached peace. Set does not believe they will achieve equity without violence. They acknowledge omnics must be careful because they have limited numbers that they cannot replenish, but having to demurely ask for common decency or preach peace and rely on the empathy of humans to finally catch up with the times is ridiculous.

Despite being a rather recognizable unit model, they have made no effort to change what they are to be less conspicuous and avoid law enforcement, regardless of the multiple offers they have been given from other omnics for a remodel.

Set will never allow someone to convince them or anyone to make their appearance more human-like either. They love what they are. ))

[smallhatlogan]

actually insane how anyone still uses ao3 with how easy it is to accidentally stumble onto actual undeniable pedophiles on that website

[whencartoonsruletheworld]

i see a post talking doom and gloom about how we'll never escape toxic masculinity. i think about back in 2017 when american girl released their first boy doll, and a review for him went viral in the collecting community. the review was written by a mom, who said they went into the store to get their daughter a doll, only to see their son's eyes light up like fire when he saw a doll that looked like him, and now every night he puts his doll in pajamas and rocks him to sleep. i think about the toddler in my daycare room a few years back who was obsessed with baby dolls, carrying them everywhere, and his mom proudly told us he uses his sisters' old baby dolls and wants to be just like them. that toddler saw another toddler crying one day and gave her the doll he had to cheer her up. i think about the eight-year-old boy i saw a few years back, excitedly waving around raya's sword in a target checkout line like all his dreams were coming true. there was a video on my instagram the other day of a little boy at disneyworld crying with joy upon meeting his hero, mulan. i think about the voice actor for bow in the she-ra reboot saying his nephews only wanted adora action figures. celebrity men are wearing dresses on tv now. last halloween i saw a little boy dressed as elsa. i went to go see spiderverse over the summer, and in the line ahead of me was a boy who couldn't be older than twelve or thirteen, bouncing and beaming, giddy with excitement over getting to see the female-led romance movie elemental. i think about the five-year-old boy at my library who breathlessly asked me where the pinkalicious books were, eyes widening when i had more on my cart, his mom explaining that he is all about pinkalicious and fancy nancy. i saw so many pictures online of boys and men dressed in pink to see barbie. teenage boys are gonna open their phones and see the man who wrote fucking game of thrones dressed in pink to see barbie. when i was a kid, a boy dressing in pink was practically a social death sentence. there are boys running around in pink on my street right now.

[mayspicer]

Mmm nothing like a good old full blown panic attack, I haven't had one in years. This time at least I have access to medication to make it stop a lot faster, but I have 6 pills left for the next 2,5 months and the recent trends in my mental state are not looking good.

[writingsbychlo]

WITHDRAWAL | theodore nott

summary; theo decides to quit smoking, but doesn't realise that his decision would affect his girlfriend, too.

word count; 3007

notes; just a cute, fluffy little piece based on something that I was tagged in about 2 months ago! unfortunately, I cannot find the original post or tagger, but if it's you, please let me know!!

If there was one thing about Theodore Nott that couldn't be denied, it was that he loved with everything he had. 

He loved his friends; he was loyal to a fault and he’d never let them down. He loved his family, he wrote over fifteen letters a week to all his aunties and cousins, and still held onto his mother’s recipe book, even to this day. 

And he loved, adored, his girlfriend with everything that he had. He’d do anything for her, crawl across hot coals if she asked, give up his magic and his money and his legacy, just to make her happy. She’d never asked as such of him, still blushed when he pulled out his wallet when they shopped and smiled brighter than the sun when he gave her a handmade card or something he’d cooked. So, to his eyes, it didn’t seem all that much when he decided to give up smoking for her. 

She hadn't asked him to, never even pulled a face when he smoked. But Theo was damn sick of trying to blow the smoke away from her when she joined him at the astronomy tower, cuddled up to his chest, because he didn’t want that poison near her. He hated watching her shiver on the colder nights, he hated waking her in the middle of the night when he got up to satiate that itch, and he hated thinking of a future where he left her too soon, running short on time, because he ruined himself.

He chucked his last box into the fireplace one impulsive morning, and thought he might go cold turkey. He’d been so moody by lunchtime that he’d almost bitten Enzo’s head off over the way he pronounced ‘tomato’. That afternoon, he’d ditched his classes and trudged through the snow to the floo connection at the Hog’s Head, and picked up enough nicotine patches from a muggle supply store to knock out a fully grown Hippogriff.

He’d torn the packaging off of one in the grimy restroom at the back of the store and slapped it onto his bicep, and almost collapsed from the relief it gave him. It wasn’t nearly as effective as picking up a packet from the newsagent’s stand he’d passed would’ve been, but as soon as his fingers had twitched to pick up a box, your face had flashed through his mind. Your face, smiling at him, your face that morning telling him how proud you were of him when he’d shared his goals in hopes of support, and it was enough to deter him from the purchase.

You were his strength, once again, as you’d always been. 

And truly, you were so proud of Theo. Changing his patches for him every evening, in time with that first one. Reading up on the muggle solutions, and making sure you were fully versed on how to help him. Keeping him busy seemed to help, when he got bored, his eyes started flicking towards the door, and the slight irritability he’d been able to keep a lid on pretty well would begin to flare up. For the most part, he’d been staying at your dorm, in an active attempt to keep away from Mattheo, who wasn’t quite ready to give up his comfortable vice just yet. 

Unfortunately, as the days went on, while Theo seemed to be handling it just fine, you were struggling. The irritability grew, even Draco’s breathing was making you want to snap pencils in half in the library, or throw Enzo off the astronomy tower if he scraped his fork on his plate one more time. You were ravenous, and nauseous, all at the same time. You wanted to eat everything but could hardly hold it down. You were dizzy, and fatigued, and your grades were going to start slipping if this continued, because it had been almost a week since you’d been able to concentrate on any thought longer than a minute, never mind a whole class. 

And now, you were lying in bed, rubbing at your eyes angrily but unable to sleep as you stared at the ceiling. Theo, for once, was sleeping soundly beside you. Since giving up smoking, his sleep patterns had been getting better, while yours were getting worse by the night. Almost a week, and you’d barely gotten nine hours of sleep put together. 

When you shuffled again, pressing yourself a little closer to Theo as you rolled onto your side, he began to surface. The arm over your midriff tightened, pulling you in until your hips were bracketed against his, and he chuckled sleepily into your neck. Burying himself in, he pressed a kiss there, and another, and another. The rough pounding of your heart settled as you clasped Theo’s hand in your own, holding them to your chest as he littered your shoulder with kisses. 

At your sigh, he rolled you over, propping himself up on his elbow and yawning. Shaking his hand free from your own, he stroked the back of a finger along your cheek, and leaned down to press a kiss to your lips. As his hand settled on the side of your neck instead, yours slipped up to cup his jaw, and you melted into the tender love he offered you in the darkest hours. 

“What’s wrong, tesoro? Why are you awake?”

“Why are you awake?” you rebuffed, fingers lifting to comb through his hair, to push it back out of his eyes as he blinked himself a little more awake.

He shrugged, “This is about the time I’d normally go for a smoke.” He murmured, and your eyes flickered to the clock. 

You knew well enough the schedule Theo used to keep while smoking. Your timetable had slowly synched to it over the time you’d been dating. He’d wake up during the night, at some point around two, and disappear for a smoke. He’d take twenty minutes, or thirty if he bumped into Mattheo, and then he’d come back to bed. 

You didn’t mind the disturbance. Not when he’d come back slightly chilled from the night air and snuggle in close to you, wrapping himself around you.

“Actually, this is the time you’d normally come back from having a smoke, and give me my midnight kisses.”

“Is that why my girl is so restless tonight? Because I owe her some kisses?” He teased, leaning down until your noses were bumping, and you could taste the mint on his breath. Normally, he tasted like smoke, not toothpaste, and the shock of his warm lips instead of cold ones made you hum. 

The languid kisses melted the time away, his hand sliding up your shirt, sitting on your ribs and squeezing softly as he lowered himself down, covering your body with his own. Theo had always been your comfort, and your happy place. Being in his arms made you feel safe, and his kisses made you feel relaxed. As he licked his way into your mouth lazily, you anticipated the hazy blur of relaxation that usually followed when he kissed you. 

But, like usual recently, it never came. Instead, when he finally pulled back, and pecked the tip of your nose, he found you frowning, instead of smiling up at him. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know.” You huffed, frustrated at yourself, at your confusion and the growing irrational irritation. “It’s not the same.”

“What’s not the same, bella?”

“Your… your kisses.” Your words trailed to a whisper, knowing he wouldn't understand, and the hurt that flickered across his face made your heartbreak. 

“They’re not?”

“No. I don’t know why.” His lips curled further at the sides, and the look on his face made you want to cry. It made you hate yourself, aggressively, and if you could tear out your own heart and give it to him just to see him smile again, you would. Just another thing you’d been suffering with lately, an overwhelm of your emotions, worse than any mood swing you got when you were on your period. “It’s not you, Teddy, it’s me. You’re still my happy place, you’ve done nothing wrong. It’s me. I’m the problem.”

“You’re not a problem, bella. But we should figure it out. I don’t want to… kiss you wrong, and see that look on your face. What’s different, tell me what’s changed?” His sweet words made tears prickle at your eyes, and you sniffed sadly as you looked at him. 

“I love you so much, Theo.”

“I know, tesoro. I love you too.” His thumb smoothed over your cheek, “Tell me.”

“I don’t know!” Your snap made his eyes widen. “You’re just… different. You don’t kiss the same way, you used to get all needy when you came back from a smoke, but you don’t anymore, and you taste different! You taste like mint right now, and it just doesn’t make me feel the same way afterwards.”

Your words were jumbled and hurried, rushed out as you smoked them and his brows furrowed as he tried to decipher what you meant. Second ticked by into silent minutes as Theo’s wonderful mind ticked and whirred, thinking the problem through, and playing with the information. Then, before you could say anything else, something clicked. You could see it in his eyes, when the gears stopped turning and the thoughts stopped flowing because he’d found the answer. 

Pulling away from you, he sat up, kicking back the covers and letting in the cold air, before moving across the room and shuffling through his gym kit left in the corner. Pulling out a nicotine packet from the box inside, he shook it out, using his teeth to tear open the packet as he made his way back to the bed. Sitting yourself up, you propped yourself in the pillows as he peeled off the plastic backing, and tried to unstick his fingers from it, holding it by the corners. 

“You’ve only had your patch on for nine hours, Teddy, it’s not time to change yet.”

He clicked his tongue, shaking his head and settling in beside you on the bed, legs folded underneath himself. “This isn’t for me, bella. Take off your shirt.” 

Slipping your arm out of your shirt, you pushed it to the side, watching as Theo brushed cotton fibres off of your shoulder, before sealing the patch onto your skin. He made sure it was properly sealed down, flattening it to your skin, before feeding your arm back through the sleeve of your shirt. He smoothed the top back down your torso, pressing a cheeky kiss to your breast over your heart as he did, and sitting back on his legs to wait. 

“Give it a second, then tell me how you feel.” He whispered, the moment feeling entirely too fragile as his hand took yours, fingers linked together. He kissed along your knuckles, his eyes locked on your face, waiting. And the moment you felt it hit, you knew he saw it too. 

It was like a cool, soothing balm over a raw, aggravated wound. It felt like running cold water on a new burn or healing a painful graze with a quick Episky. “Oh, Merlin…”

“I know, tell me about it.” He mumbled, the smile on his face at victoriously solving the problem melting away as realisation set in. “Cazzo, bella, I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You have a nicotine addiction, and it’s my fault. All that time you spent with me at the tower, and the smoke on me, and kissing you as soon as I finished smoking. All your moodiness these last few days—”

“Hey!”

“It’s true, baby. It all makes sense.” He rubbed a hand over his face, and squeezed your hand tighter in the other. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I quit because I didn’t want this to happen to you, I didn’t want my problems to poison you, but it’s too late.”

“Kiss me.”

“What?”

“Kiss me, Teddy.” You demand again, pulling him in, and his mouth collides with yours as he makes a subtle groan of surprise and pleasure. 

His hand gripped the headboard behind you, the other skimming down your side. As you leaned back into the pillows, you took him with you, his body falling over your own, slotting between your thighs as our hearts thudded together where his chest pressed to yours. Your hands slid over his shoulders, skimming down his back, and he moaned again as your fingernails scraped across his lower back as you tugged at his shirt. 

He sat up, letting you pull it off of him, before his arms were back, caging you in on either side as he fell back down against you. Pulling one of your legs up to sit on his hip, he dragged himself away from your mouth, trailing wet kisses down your jaw, to the pulse point on your neck and back up. 

“Merde, bella. What’s gotten into you? Not that I’m complaining.”

“You’re perfect, Theo.” You smiled, leaning up to steal more kisses from his lips that he was happy to reciprocate, “You’re perfect, your kisses are perfect. I knew it was me, not you. I was the problem.”

“A problem I gave you,” He groaned, his hips rolling against your own as you giggled breathlessly. 

“Yeah, whatever. Now we’re quitting together. That’s the promise we made, we do everything together, right?”

“Damn right, tesoro.” He growled, teeth nipping at the underside of your jaw, as he began to make his way down your body. Your fingers were loose in his hair, settling back in the pillows, eyes slipping closed as he kissed along the insides of your thighs, teasingly. Finally, your body could relax, no longer tense and buzzing, but the foggy comfort of the night made your muscles ease into the bed, your body feeling heavy, and you sighed in bliss. 

Theo mumbled something, and you let your legs fall a little further apart, but your grip on consciousness was falling further and further away as the nicotine coursed through your body, finally letting you ease into sleep you’d missed for days.

“Bella,” Theo said, his voice sharper, and you stirred, working hard to force your eyes open, but they’d only made it halfway. His hair was ruffled, eyes wide and lips swollen, but his smirk melted away from his face into a tender smile as he looked down at you. 

“Sorry, what’d you say, baby?” The words slurred out of you, and he chuckled. His fingers unhooked from the sides of your shorts, and he leaned over to kiss your forehead. “M’sorry, I’m so sleepy all of a sudden.”

“S’okay, bella. Never apologise. C’mere, let’s just cuddle.”

Tucking your body into his, you shuffled your hips back into him, and he threw his leg over yours as he held you tight to his body. “You’re hard.”

“It’ll go down, don’t worry.” He snickered, kissing the back of your head. “S’your fault anyway.”

“Sorry…” You whispered, again, sleepily. “I’ll make it up t’you t’morrow.”

“Go to sleep, amore.”

But you’d already drifted off.

It was just as you were closing your History of Magic book, that Theo announced his presence in the common room as he walked in alongside Mattheo. They were loud, and raucous, and thankfully, you were less inclined to bite their heads off for it today. 

In fact, alongside Enzo, you’d been able to catch up on all of the History homework you’d been missing out on for the last week or so, getting you back on track for at least one of your subjects. 

“Patch change time, bella!” Theo announced, making his way over to you as he untucked his shirt and began to undo the buttons down the front. Tugging the tie out of the way, he crashed down ungracefully onto the couch beside you, Mattheo nudging Draco to move up so he could sit down too. 

This had become a regular part of your routine now, and you pushed the edges of his half-unbuttoned shirt aside to reveal the patch sitting on the middle of his left pectoral. Picking at one corner, you peeled it away gently, careful not to tug on his skin as you did, and Theo watched on adoringly in silence as you took care of him. Unwrapping a new patch, you brushed off the spot, before sticking a new patch onto him and smoothing down the bandage. 

He patted it himself, before doing a couple of the buttons on his shirt back up for modesty, as though he hadn't already given half of the common room a show, before he leaned in to peck your lips. His fingers fell to the buttons of your shirt, and he began to undo them slowly. “Your turn.”

He undid just enough to reveal your shoulder, without letting anyone else catch a glimpse of anything underneath, and as he leaned down to begin peeling away the old patch, you caught Enzo’s confused expression. 

“Why are you wearing a patch?” He asked, and Theo laughed to himself quietly as he changed your old one out. 

“Because loverboy here got me addicted too, through kisses and secondary smoke.”

The others burst out laughing, unfettered by your glaring as they made kissy sounds and crude remarks, while Theo buttoned your shirt back up. Your glare turned to him as you caught sight of his smile, and he shrugged, a lopsided smile on his lips. “What can I say, bella? I’m just that good.”

“Oh, shut it,” You smacked his chest, and he took your hand, tugging you forward to cuddle you into his chest as he kissed your temple. 

“I happen to think it’s adorable that as a by-product of how you got addicted, that means you were addicted to me.”

“Mhmm.” Your eyes rolled, and he squeezed you even tighter. 

“You had me addicted to you without any substances at all, bella. Just you.”

“Alright,” You scoff, “Stop sweet-talking me.”

“Never.”

[white--moon]

That doesn't make him less skeptical. "Wow. That bad, huh? Well, glad you gave me a chance anyway. I guess, if we ever meet, at least you don't have to worry about competition." Ichigo hasn't really talked about his ex much, but he hasn't painted the guy in the best light.

The difference between Ichigo and most of the other people Shiro's slept with is that Ichigo could actually give him a run for his money if things got too serious and out of hand. This is a type of control and Shiro's bad at handing that over. But he's trying. It just takes him a minute to wind down. His brows pull together a little when Ichigo scoots down, but before he has time to complain, there's a hand on his dick. He pulls in a soft breath, pushing up into the pressure of that squeezing hand.

He can't really reach Ichigo's hips anymore, but he lets his hands settle on his thighs, down by his knees, moaning at the way Ichigo works his cock like it's his job. It's good, it smooths over that edge of paranoia, though he definitely wants to bury his cock inside Ichigo, not in his hand.

“No,” Well… “Inadvertently maybe. It’s a no blood flow to your nuts thing.” He eyes Ichigo suspiciously for a second. “Just in case you’re wondering, orgasm denial isn’t really my thing.” He’s pretty sure that was already obvious, if it hasn’t been outright stated already. He snorts. “Who said anyone makes it look easy? You’ve never seen me put them on. The trapeze-ing into them isn’t the attractive part.”

He takes the offered glass automatically, but hesitates for a short moment before actually taking a drink. “Is this the start of you tryin’ to get me to forget I watched you put those on?” He asks it with a smirk, amused, and sets the glass aside.

He shrugs. “You just gotta get a bigger size, like an extra large instead'a large, so there’s more fabric where you need it, and take the waist in a little.”

He wants to get his mouth on every part of Ichigo that his fingers are touching. He scoffs lightly, distracted. “Never said you wouldn’t look good in my stuff.” He finds his clothes attractive, that’s why he chose what he did, and Ichigo’s hot all on his own. Of course he’ll look good in Shiro’s clothes. It’s the sharing part he has a hard time with, but they’re building up to it.

He huffs out a little laugh. “I’m sure.” Ichigo can definitely be painful, in many ways. He’s not upset that more people didn’t notice the attractive way. He spins to keep facing Ichigo when he circles around, blinks but otherwise mostly ignoring the lightheaded quality the alcohol provides during the motion. “Yeah.” He agrees, and thinks Ichigo’s about to remedy his jeans still being on when hands slide down his ass. He eeps out a small, surprised sound and looks up at Ichigo when he, instead, finds himself on his back on the bed. Fuck, that’s hot. And dizzying, but that’s probably the three glasses of wine and two shot gunned glasses of bourbon. “Ok, you’re right, these need to come off.” He starts pushing his pants down, lifting his hips off the bed.

[brunettemoondoll]

rolling over so the sunrise can kiss the back of my neck as i try to fall asleep

[s1m0nth3swag]

Francis Mosses x GN!Reader

AUTHORS NOTE; Haven't written in a while, but thanks to Arlo, a friend (Hi Arlo, I know you're reading this), Inspiration about Francis Mosses struck (he bought me That's not my neighbor and then continued to freak out about Francis with me) so I wrote this. I have so many thoughts about Francis, so... tell me if you want more because i will deliver ngl. Enjoy (or don't, I don't dictate your feelings)

WARNINGS/ CONTENT INFO; Porn with little to no plot, Submissive Francis, a little non-consensual at the start (but not in a super weird way, imo?), Gender neutral reader (no pronouns used, tried to write as GN as possible with the compliments and thoughts about Readers appearance), not proofread nor have I thought about this much, more a drabble than an actual thoughtful story (not apologising because I had such a long break from writing anything and obviously it's gonna suck a little when I come back)

NSFW UNDER THE CUT!

The first time Francis had realised that he hadn't gotten any touch from another human being was when someone brushed up against him on his way home from work. He had felt like a creep afterwards because he hadn't stopped thinking about what could've happened if the person hadn't moved away and had just stayed pressed against him. That was a week before you started your job as a doorman.

The second time Francis had noticed was when a friend of his had spoken to him on the phone, talking about his new girlfriend. Said friend gave too much intel on their sex life. Francis had wondered if he could have someone the way his friend explained - he quickly brushed the thought off. That was two days before you started working as a doorman.

The third time, he noticed when you had smiled at him. It was your first day, and he was tired from work. You had repeated his name after reading it off of his ID, and he had looked at you for the first time since his eyes kept falling closed, and you smiled so brightly. You had told him his name was nice, and you said it again. Francis swore that the way his name rolled off your tongue was the most beautiful thing he's ever heard. Not even an angel could sound more wonderful. Suddenly, he was a lot more energised. Totally not thanks to the fact that he had immediately grown hard the second he had seen your smile. He had gone to his apartment that night and had jerked off for the first time in probably months. He had always been too tired to previously, but now he couldn't stop thinking about how you'd sound moaning his name. Maybe you were more of a groaner, or you'd whimper and whine. He came as he imagined how you'd look sucking his dick.

Since then, Francis has always looked forward to entry checks. What had normally kept him away from his bed and a good night's sleep was now the best experience of his day. He loved the way you spoke to him even though he was too nervous to respond. Sometimes, he deliberately didn't show his ID at first, just so you'd ask about it, and he could listen to you talk a little more. He felt guilty about it. He knew you had never agreed to feed into this weird little obsession of his. It was awful of him to do this - have you talk to him enough to give him more scenarios to think about that night.

A few weeks after all this had started, Francis had built up the courage to finally ask you out. Just something simple, dinner at his place. He had to cook for himself all the time. Cooking for you as well wouldn't be too different, right?

Francis was wrong. He was anxious that the food wouldn't taste good and kept tasting it just so he could make sure it hadn't mysteriously switched tastes in the last 20 seconds. When you knocked on his door, he took a minute to make sure he didn't look like a mess - though you wouldn't mind either way since he always looked like a mess when he came through during your shifts.

You looked so good when he opened the door. Your hair fell perfectly, your lips looked a little too kissable, and Francis had to stop his train of thought just so he wouldn't embarrass himself by having yet another boner caused by just the way you looked. You were a little shorter than him, smiling up as he let you inside.

"You look good." He mumbled, his cheeks flushing. He seriously had to lay off thinking like a high-schooler. His nervousness and awkwardness were getting really annoying - to him, at least. You grinned, chuckling softly as you took off your shoes. "Thank you. You do as well." His heart for sure burst at that - he knew something else would burst as well if he didn't stop thinking right this second.

Throughout the evening, ignoring his thoughts came easier and easier. The two of you had eaten, you had told him he was a good cook, he had almost excused himself to the bathroom because of it. Now you were sitting on the couch, drinking wine and talking casually.

"You know, when you first walked through, I swore I would die." You giggled, looking at him with a mischievous look. Francis was confused by that statement. "How come?" He asked, tilting his head at you in question. "I was sure you were a doppelganger. You looked too handsome to be real." You cheekily answered, cheeks slightly flushed as you downed your wine. Francis blushed heavily, looked away from you, and thought about your words for a moment. The silence was loud as he wondered what to answer. "..you think I'm handsome?" He questioned while looking at the floor. If he had looked at you, he'd have seen the way you stared at him, your own cheeks coloured a deep red. "Extremely." You muttered. It took him a minute before he could look at you, but when he did, his lips pressed against yours in a desperate kiss.

When you reciprocated, Francis groaned and pulled you closer until you sat on his lap. He was just a tiny bit embarrassed when you gasped and felt his dick press against you. In all honesty, he had held back the entire night, and he was allowed a little selfishness. "Sorry. Can't help it." He muttered between kisses. You just grinned against his lips before grinding against him. A whimper fell from his lips - that was the moment he was actually embarrassed. "That's cute.." You had mumbled, a cheeky grin on your face as you started placing kisses against his jaw and neck. One of your hands trailed down his body to rest right over his crotch, Francis unconsciously bucked his hips up against your hand, whining. He didn't notice anything else as you caught the skin of his neck with your teeth carefully, leaving the softest bite mark on him. He shuddered at the feeling and gasped before realising that you had meanwhile unzipped his pants. A groan slipped from his lips as you ran a finger over his dick, still hidden from sight by his boxers, but god knows he would cum the second you'd touch it without. "Is this okay?" You asked him, and he nodded faster than he even knew he could. "Yes. God, yes. Please, please continue.." he muttered, his breathing heavy as he watched you slide off his lap, settling in front of him and between his legs. His dick twitched at the sight, and he let out a heavy sigh. Minutes later, his pants and boxers were discarded, and the way you looked up at him, his dick so close to your face, made Francis feel the way his orgasm was approaching way too quick. The second you wrapped your hand around him he whined pathetically, bucked up into your hand and knew that he'd definitely cum too soon. Your hand was so soft, cool against his hot flesh, and you worked his dick so good he almost thought you were a professional. He looked down at you through lidded eyes, watched the way you bit your lip, and grinned knowingly. "Such a pretty boy, huh?" You chuckled, and that definitely sealed the deal for Francis. He came, probably ruining his shirt as he dirtied both it and your hand. His heart stopped for a second when you licked your hand while looking up at him. "You didn't give me enough time to taste you properly. Don't look at me like that." You huffed, rolling your eyes at him. "You should probably take off your shirt so you can clean it later." You then winked. He swiftly shed the piece of clothing, entranced by your voice and the way you looked. "Sorry, didn't mean to cum that fast.." he mutters, his voice out of breath. "Jus'.. unused to... this.." he added, clearing his throat awkwardly. You laughed and shook your head. "Don't worry about it. We have all the time in the world to make you last longer. I'm gonna give you a real reason to be tired tomorrow." You winked.

Francis didn't even mind that he was in for a long night.

Your honour I am gnawing at the bars of my enclosure.

[rosenclaws]

Stronger || Logan Howlett x Reader

summary: after failing your last mission you start to over train yourself in secret but Logan notices the bruises and cuts and wont leave you alone about it.

warnings: angst to fluff, patching up fic, the reader is very hard on themselves, injury, blood, insecurity, sweet logan, reader pushes themself too much.

a/n: I had this idea at like 1:30am last night and I wrote it when i woke up oops. I just love fluffy patching up logan fics what can I say.

There it is again. Logan's nose twitches as you walk by. You smell like dirt and sweat but most of all blood. He locks eyes with you as you walk past the kitchen door.

Theres a limp in your step. It's subtle but there. You're wearing long pants and long sleeves despite it being hot outside and you're hiding your hands in your pockets. There's bags under your eyes and the smiles you give people aren't real.

Logan narrows his eyes at you and you look at the ground. Hurrying away from his pointed gaze. He wants to go after you but he hears your door slam and lock.

No one else has picked up on this except for him. He brings it up in passing but he's brushed off every time. Something is up with you and he's going to figure out what.

You sigh as you lean against your door. Your body aches like crazy and all you want to do is collapse onto the bed and sleep. But you force yourself to the bathroom. You need to scrub off all the evidence of everything from the night before. The blood and grime washed off but the bruises stayed.

"Damn." You mumbled as you took in the injuries from this time.

The person displayed in the mirror looked like a stranger. Your eyes were sunken, bruises on your body, you looked tired and felt worse. But you had to keep going. You needed to be strong, to prove yourself and this was the only way.

At least that's what you think. You crawl into bed and pass out the moment your head hits the pillows. Unfortunately the nightmares start then too.

You're back on your last mission. The whole reason you've been pushing yourself so hard. You were weak, lost, a burden to the team. You weren't like everyone else at the mansion. You didn't come here as a kid.

In fact you were well into your adult life when Professor Xavier found you. You had no training, no experience. You got stuck into classes with kids who had already mastered their powers. You felt silly, a fool to think you could be apart of this world. You didn't belong.

So when you got the chance to go on a mission you were excited. It means they thought you were ready, that you had something in you that could help.

The mission went terribly. You were overwhelmed and could barely keep up. Tackled to the ground you cried out in pain. A sharp blade against your neck caused you to freeze. You tried to conjure your energy blasts but a foot on your wrist stopped you. It was digging into you, crushing you. You closed your eyes as you braced yourself for what was to come.

It never does.

The pressure is released all at once as Logan tackled the man who was on you. Digging his claws into him until he's limp on the ground. He runs to you, checking you injuries. You couldn't speak. You couldn't warn Logan that someone else was coming. Then it all goes black. You're too late.

You sit up, Logan's name on the tip of your tongue as you wake up. Fuck. You take in your surroundings and try to calm down. Slowly sinking back into your bed. Reminding yourself that everything fine.

That the last mission didn't really end that way. Logan is okay, you're okay. But what if things had played out different.

If you could have held your own then Logan wouldn't have had to come to your rescue. He carried you back to the jet and while everyone was nice, you knew that you disappointed them.

You haven't been asked to go on a mission since. It hurt, you wanted to go. To be apart of the team. So you took it upon yourself to train. Your powers were trained in lessons with the professor but he never lets you go past a certain limit. So instead you decided to sneak out at night to the nearby forest and train there.

Honing not only your powers but your hand to hand combat as well. Trees were your only partners but it worked. They were strong and sturdy. Every night you'd sneak out. Practice with your powers which drained you and then practiced everything else after. It left you bloody and bruised but in your mind it was worth it.

Glancing at the clock you see that you've slept through most of the day. The sun had already set. Quietly you get dressed and sneak down the hallways. Most everyone was already in bed and if they weren't they were socializing in the living room. All you had to do was sneak by and you were home free for the night.

Laughter is the perfect distraction as you sneak past the doorway. Opening the door slowly and sneaking outside, running to the safety of the woods. What you don't notice is someone following you.

Logan caught your scent the second you stepped out of your room. Whether he wants to admit it or not he's always searching for you. He smelled your shampoo wafting past the door and eyed you outside. You were quick but he could still see you. Enough of this. Whatever the hell you were doing was killing you. Slowly but surely it was ruining you physically and mentally. He slipped away from the rest of the people in the living room and followed you.

As he got deeper in the woods he became worried, just what could you be doing out here? His ears perk up as he hears you. Peaking through the trees he finds you in a small clearing. You were clearly exhausted but you kept pushing. Creating energy from your finger tips and blasting them at a tall redwood.

Logan smells the blood that trickled from your nose. You were pushing yourself too hard. He's about to reveal himself when the loud creaking of a branch stops him.

You were too wrapped up in conjuring another blast that you don't notice a large tree branch cracking from the force of your powers. Logan springs in to action.

"Watch out!" He growls as he launches himself at you. Grabbing your body and wrapping himself around you the best he can. The branch falls right onto his back. It snaps in two as it falls to either side of you.

"Logan?! What are you doing here?" You ask as you stare at the fallen branch. Kicking yourself for not noticing it fast enough forcing Logan to put himself in danger for you again.

"What am I doing here? What the fuck are you doing out here?" He yells as he lets you go. Taking in just how bad you looked.

"What the hell is wrong with you? What if I wasn't here? What if that branch fell and hit you and no one would know that you were bleeding out in the fucking woods!" Logan snarls. His fear and worry being masked by anger. How could you be so reckless? So stupid?

"I didn't ask you to fucking follow me!" You bite back. Shame creeping up as he scolds you. Logan scoffs and grabs your face firmly.

"Do you even see yourself right now?" He grabs your wrist and holds it up. Staring at your bloody knuckles. It fucking hurts. It hurts for him to see you like this and it hurts him that you were doing this to yourself.

“You're tearing yourself apart, why?" The anger starts to fade, his real feelings breaking through.

"Because I'm weak." You admit, your voice cracking as the adrenaline starts to drain. Instead being replaced but complete and utter exhaustion.

"What?" Logan asks in disbelief.

"I failed the last mission, I could have gotten you hurt, I was a liability. If I got stronger, If I was better."

"Stop. Just stop. You really think all that?" Logan has let go of you by now, his eyes are looking at all your bruises. All the damage you've done to yourself.

"You don't?" You ask, afraid of his answer.

He doesn't say a word. Instead he takes your holds your hand, you try to ignore the butterflies growing in your stomach as he leads you back to the mansion. Taking you up to his room where he pulls out a first aid kit.

He doesn't need one but every room has one, of course you had already used up all of yours. Silently he patches you up, wrapping your knuckles in bandages and wiping up the blood from your nose.

"If you wanted train you could have come to one of us, to me." He should have noticed sooner, said something. Stopped you from doing this to yourself.

"I thought I had to do it on my own."

"You don't. It took me a while to figure it out too but you don't." He would be a hypocrite to scold you for going off alone but he doesn't really care.

"I'm sorry." You mumble. Logan cups your face and to your shock kisses your forehead gently.

"Don't ever do this again do you hear me." Logan can help you, he can protect you.

"I won't." You promise him. He smiles and picks you up.

"Logan!" You yelp as he drops you into his bed.

It smells just like him and you can't deny the instant comfort that comes over you as you snuggle into his sheets.

"You're going to rest for the next week. Anything you need you just call alright?"

"But what-" He stares at you and you stop talking, he wasn't fucking around about this.

"When you're healed and rested. Then we can train together." He doesn't leave room for argument, not that you wanted to argue with him anyways but still.

"Thank you Logan...You didn't have to do this."

He could have turned his head, pretended he never saw anything. Its what you expected him to do if you were being honest. But he didn't. He saw you struggling, pushing yourself and he couldn't let you hurt yourself any longer. He cared about you, a lot.

"I know." He says simply.

"Will you stay, while I sleep. I've been getting these nightmares and well..." Logan nods his head.

He shuts off the lights and crawls into bed with you. Kind of, more like he's half hanging off the edge of the bed. But you're comfortable and that's good enough for him.

It doesn't take long for you to fall asleep. The comforting aura of Logan was enough. He hums as you curl closer to him. Logan chasing away any nightmares that threaten to hurt you and for the first time in a while your dreams are quiet.

A smile on your face as peace finally overcomes your dreams.

[reilemon]

🫧Love Don't Be Shy🫧

♡︎ pairing: Rafayel x fem!reader

｡°⚠︎°｡MINORS DNI (18+ ONLY)｡°⚠︎°｡

♡︎cw:unprotected sex (as always), there's only one bed, sex toys, pulling out

♡︎word count: 2.9k

♡︎synopsis: Rafayel finds your mini "neck massager" while going through your makeup bag.

♡︎a/n: I hope you guys like how I wrote Rafayel.

♡︎ special thanks to my beta reader ♡︎@its-de♡︎ for reading and helping me with this

banner by @cafekitsune

A defeated sigh leaves your lips. You have to share the bed with your friend (employee?) Rafayel. You just nod when Rafayel checks with you if it's okay, and of course you agree because you don't want to go around searching for another hotel.

The last time you had to share a room, and the bed, you barely got any sleep as he was tossing and turning all night, stealing the duvet in consequence. You couldn't be too mad at him as you know how messed up his sleep schedule is. Also, he was so sweet for remembering your comment how you wished to see a certain spot at that place.

This time is no different; he organized this little trip for you to make good use of your vacation days. He researched all the restaurants that you'd like, shops that he'd like, fun and interesting places to visit, and always takes the best seats in the airplane. But he always forgets to book two rooms in advance!

It's not that bad, you tell yourself. You're very comfortable around Rafayel; he makes you feel safe and he adores spending time with you. It's just that you have your own night routine. And you can't do it with him in the same room.

Oh well, the vacation will fly by quickly.

Even with this little inconvenience, you wish it won't. Not because you don't want to get back to work, but because you also adore spending time with him. And lately, with every meeting you hope to become more than just friends (more than just an artist and his bodyguard).

⋆ ˚｡⋆꒰ა 🪼 ໒꒱⋆ ˚｡⋆

After unpacking Rafayel and you go outside to grab a quick bite at the city centre. Of course that turns into an impromptu shopping spree because the two of you stumbled upon a vintage flea market.

You drag your feet as Rafayel almost skips next to you, bags with little trinkets in his hands. It's a beautiful summer afternoon, with a refreshing breeze. You'd enjoy it more if there weren't so many people around.

He glances at your 'energetic' walk. "C'mon Miss Bodyguard, we had a good time there!"

You chuckle. "Sure, if you can call 'talking you out of buying everything you see' a good time."

"But everything was so beautiful!"

"Yes, but think of the luggage!"

He shifts his bags to one hand and offers you the free one with a soft smile. "Give me your hand. I don't want to get lost."

He says that, but he's the one leading you through the crowd.

⋆ ˚｡⋆꒰ა 🪼 ໒꒱⋆ ˚｡⋆

You had to take a little nap after coming back to your room, because Rafayel had more things planned for this evening, and you needed the energy. You wanted to look and feel good because you actually looked forward to it. You might've even bought some new outfits that you thought he'd like, even though he gives you compliments no matter how much effort you put into your appearance.

While you were asleep, Rafayel took a long shower.

When you awoke, you found him in your room with nothing but a towel wrapped around his hips.

You blush and avert your gaze, opting to just not comment on it. "Are you at least wearing underwear?" You commented on it.

He looks down, like he forgot about his state of almost-undress. "I do. Wanna check?" His hand resting on the towel knot.

Your hand immediately shoots up to cover your view of whatever he's about to show you. "It's fine! I just didn't expect this to be the first thing I see after a nap!"

He laughs and strolls towards the closet. "You saw me in a bathing suit plenty of times. This towel covers more."

You can't help but sneak a peek at his toned back while he's picking out an outfit. For someone who claims to hate working out, he's more than fit. You can clearly see the way his muscles are carved under his pale still damp skin and the way they flex as he moves. As he turns around, you can’t help but crave to graze your hand over his defined abs and those veins leading down to -

"Like what you see?"

Caught red handed, you snap your head in the opposite direction, your face burning with embarrassment.

"I'll go take a shower." You mumble as you snatch your underwear and a nightdress from a drawer and escape to the bathroom, blushing even more as you catch Rafayel's mischievous laugh.

⋆ ˚｡⋆꒰ა 🪼 ໒꒱⋆ ˚｡⋆

Refreshed, and not at all embarrassed anymore, you emerge from the bathroom to get your makeup bag. You don't know whether to put the outfit on before the makeup, or the other way around...

Your brain short circuits when your eyes land on Rafayel holding your makeup bag in one hand - and your mini vibrator in the other.

He holds it up and studies it "Is this like a mini neck massager?"

You're frozen in place. Your body is discovering new levels of embarrassment.

Hearing nothing from you, his attention shifts to your figure. You don't register the way his eyes admire you in your little nightdress. "Well?" He presses the little button and the little buzzing sound hits your ears like crashing waves of sweat hitting your body.

He's teasing you. He has got to be teasing you. Like he always is. There's no way he thinks this is for his neck!

"Give it back." You croak, your throat dry.

"Why? You don't want to show me how to use it?" He's really going through with this little bit.

"Why were you even going through my makeup bag?"

He explains how he forgot to pack some cream and wanted to borrow it from you, or something like that, you barely listened because he was not letting go of the little bullet vibrator. He's put down the makeup bag, but not the toy!

The buzzing gets stronger as Rafayel's finger presses the button multiple times. "So, which setting is the best?"

He flinches as you basically hurl yourself towards him to take back what's yours. He holds it in the air, away from your reach.

"What's up with you?" his eyebrows knot, cheeks lightly red at the close proximity.

"Give it back!"

Finding your frustration confusing but at the same time cute and amusing, he continues to keep it out of your reach, letting you chase him around the room.

"Nuh - uh!" he laughs and turns to you, only for his face to be met with a white fluffy pillow.

You smacked him across the face, not too hard of course; you're still his body guard. You earn a little 'hey!' with a flushed face and to defend himself, he puts the toy in his pocket and grabs his own pillow. You didn't even notice how good his outfit looked.

The two of you end up in a brief pillow fight - mostly him taking hits while you managed to dodge most of them. But then Rafayel swiftly snatches your pillow, and pins you down on the bed, holding your wrists in his hand and resting his knees on the bed.

He asks, out of breath "Is it not a neck massager?" While you were in a pillow fight he caught on how red your face is and how that shape doesn't seem like it's for the neck.

You struggle under him, aware of how your nightdress lifted under the impact, and how your breasts are on the verge of spilling out. A small whine leaves your lips in frustration as he's so much stronger than you.

"Yes! It's my vibrator, okay?" you can't meet his gaze. You're sure you look so damn pathetic right now.

But you don't see the delight in Rafayel's eyes as he takes in your cute flushed pouting face. He can't help but take a peek of your figure under him, the way your tits are barely covered, the hem of your dress lifted to show off your plush thighs pressed together.

He releases his hold on you and sits back, still straddling you. "Is that why you were upset over one room? You could've just told me and I would've taken a walk or something. Maybe even get you a snack to replenish your energy."

You could not be more mortified. Your eyes are still fixed somewhere to the side and your lips don't move.

His fingers softly hold your chin and you muster the courage to look him in the eyes. You notice how messy his curls are. "There's nothing to be ashamed of." He reassures you with a soft smile, and hands you over the wretched thing.

And you loved that about Rafayel - he knew when to stop teasing and when it's time to give you reassurance.

Still, you needed your little revenge.

It doesn't matter that he's stronger than you, you still have your hunter skills, and in a blink of an eye, you switch positions, straddling his lap.

He opens his mouth to make some dirty joke but only a yelp gets out when you suddenly press the buzzing toy on his side while locking his wrists with your hand.

He pleads for mercy as you continue to run the vibrator on second to highest setting all over his torso.

A blush creeps up on your cheeks, and heat pools between your legs as his whimpers and gasps keep leaving his plump lips and his body squirms under you, his crotch grazing your bottom.

Flustered and out of breath, Rafayel had enough of the torture and pins you down again - pressing you in the same position you had him in, but with his knee so dangerously close to your clothed heat.

"You're being cruel, kitten." he breathes, his tone a little too calm for your liking.

He takes the toy from you and starts sliding it down the middle of your belly, the contact making you squirm and laugh a little. "I was being supportive here and you go and start torturing me."

"I was embarrassed!" you scream between laughs and pants.

He complains in his playful manner about how you attacked him while he was so confused, you can barely hear him over your involuntarily laughs. In your squirms and attempts to break free, your core grinds more than once against his knee and upper thigh.

And maybe he's inching his knee closer to you.

You open your eyes when you don't feel the tickles anymore. You're met with his soft hooded eyes.

"I want to make it up to you, darling."

He studies your face as his hand moves up and a gasp leaves your lips as it lightly grazes the underside of your breast over with the vibrating toy.

He repeats the same motion on the other breast. "Do you want me to stop?"

You sheepishly shake your head.

The grip on your wrists loosens, but you let him hold you down.

Finally, he gives attention to your already pebbled nipples, carefully rubbing circles around them. His eyes take in your flushed face - beautiful lips parted as you pant underneath him, eyes veiled with lust and desperation for more, sensitive nipples poking through the thin fabric of your nightdress.

Your panties are damp with the attention on your nipples and core grinding against his knee. And with Rafayel on top of you, with his cheeks flushed, messy hair and half lidded eyes gazing at you with adoration, you crave more.

He doesn't need to read your thoughts to know what you need. Your hips are desperately pressing against him, soaked panties leaving a wet patch on his pants.

A playful smirk stretches his lips, but he fights the urge to tease you. Instead, his hand trails down, avoiding your tummy this time, and presses the toy on your inner thigh, earning a jolt from your legs and a whimper from your lips. With his slender fingers, he lifts up the hem of your dress, exposing your panties.

You feel his knee move back, but still touching your clothed heat. Pressing the button for the lowest setting, he places the vibrating tip of the toy right between your folds, the familiar sensation of the vibrator making you moan. Only it's different now, because Rafayel is the one pressing it against you, the one making you feel so good, which makes you cream, your heart beating against your chest, your face and chest burning with need and desire.

With more confidence, Rafayel starts pressing and slowly rubbing your sensitive bud. "You like that princess? Does it feel good?"

You frantically nod, your pussy already throbbing with an impending orgasm. "Just like that!" You manage to breathe out.

His cock is painfully hard in his boxers, straining in his tight pants. He feels like he could cum just watching your beautiful face dazed with lust and listening to your sinful moans. Soft pants are leaving his lips "Fuck, you're so beautiful."

He releases your wrists to rest his elbow next to your head and he dips down, latching his lips with yours. You reciprocate immediately, wrapping your arms around his neck, relishing in the feeling of finally tasting his gorgeous pink lips.

Both of you are a panting mess, kissing sloppily, saliva dripping from the corners of your mouth as your tongue intertwines with his.

And all of this is becoming too much for you, and you already feel the coil in your stomach is about to snap any second. You snatch the collar of his shirt, probably ripping from how tight you're gripping it. "Don't stop, I'm cummin' - !"

He watches you in awe as you tremble and mewl underneath him, unable to kiss him back as the waves of your release overtake you. His lips latch onto your neck as he uses his thumb and knee to help you come down from your high. His breath is trembling as he sucks and licks the sensitive skin on your neck, his face burning and cock throbbing.

He almost whines in your ear "Please, please princess, I need to fuck you so bad..."

Your fingers interlace with his messy curls and he lifts up his head to meet your eyes. His cheeks and ears are burning red, eyes pleading and hooded with lust.

You softly whisper "I need you."

The same second he hears those words, his working hand frantically works his belt and the pants, a sigh of relief leaving his lips as his hot leaking cock is freed. He wants to take his sweet time with you, worshipping you, but he's already on the brink.

And you're so impatient; you pull your panties to the side and take his cock in your hand and tease the tip against your dripping pussy, the action making the man above you whimper.

"Fuck, princess!" He moves your hand away and squeezes the angry red tip. "Watching you got me so worked up, I don't think I'm gonna last long." He admits with a weak smile.

You pull him into a soft kiss "That's okay, you already made me cum so hard."

He kisses your lips and slowly starts sliding in, a gasp leaving both of your lips. He rests his forehead against yours, eyes squeezed shut as he eases into your sopping cunt.

You bite his delicious bottom lip as he buries himself to the hilt, your walls fluttering around his cock and you feel like you're about to cum again. You release his bottom lip and you move onto kissing his jaw and neck. Fuck, he smells so good.

He stays still as he tries to hold onto his sanity. His hot breath fans over your ear "You're squeezing me so hard, doll."

You wiggle your hips and press his lower back, urging him to start moving. Exhaling a shaky breath, his hips slowly start rolling, yours moving at the same pace. Mewls and moans are leaving your lips, as his cock keeps stroking the sweet spot inside you, glazing his length in your slick.

Rafayel needs to make you cum around his cock, but he’s already so painfully close, with your wet walls squeezing him so hard, your pretty lips on his neck and your bewitching voice in his ear.

He was so captivated by you that he almost forgot about the little toy lying next to you.

Your eyes widen when you see him snatch the toy and turns it on to a higher setting and props himself up, angling his hips to reach your swollen and twitching bundle of nerves. Intense shocks of pleasure take over your body as he starts rubbing the vibrator again, and in seconds you're a whimpering mess as his cock thrusts into you, repeatedly hitting that sensitive spot, and his hand pressing the toy on your clit.

"Raf - I -" Is all you manage to say before another orgasm overtakes you, your breath catching in your throat and for a second you think you're going to pass out. You can barely hear Rafayel's soothing and strained whispers of you how gorgeous you are and how pretty you sound.

But hear him whimper "I'm gonna cum, princess."

He tosses the drenched vibrator to the side and with a squelching sound pulls out of you, and your hips twitch as he presses the tip against your still throbbing clit as he jerks himself off, ropes of hot cum spilling all over your belly and drenched cunt. You’re thankful he pulled up your dress in the process, but you wouldn’t mind if he stained it.

After both of you take a moment to catch your breath, he puts his weight on you and you wrap your arms around his back squeezing him tight.

He peppers you with soft kisses all over your cheeks, your nose, your eyelids. His fingers caress your face.

He chuckles with that playful smirk on his lips. "I should snoop around your stuff more often."