#if you like it though anon that’s fine don’t take me as a reference

[arieslost]

ok i don’t know if it’s just me who gets really giggly when it’s late at night but imagine laying in bed with lando and you’re just rambling about smth so stupid that it ends with you two just giggling at nothing. like getting full on stomach cramps from laughing but there wasn’t even anything funny to begin with

anon u and i are the SAME! once its past midnight i always end up becoming a victim of the late night sillies 💔

© arieslost 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

1:30 am | ln4

you knew you were up too late when you nearly tripped over the loose edge of the blanket you and lando had been sharing on your way back to the couch, and when he had caught you before you could hit your head or anything, you started laughing.

“oh, no,” he’d groaned dramatically. “got the late night giggles already, huh?”

“uh-uh,” you shook your head, even though him saying the words “late night giggles” was enough to make laughter start bubbling up in your throat again.

something always shifted in you when the clock struck a certain hour at night, and lando had only been witness to it a handful of times before you moved in together.

now, you’d managed to get through the rest of the movie the two of you were watching without laughing, even if it meant biting your lip hard and refusing to make eye contact with your boyfriend. it was bad enough feeling his eyes on you every time he wanted to see your reaction to something that happened on the tv. making eye contact would just take you out entirely for no reason whatsoever.

which is why you think you’ve successfully avoided making a fool of yourself when you’re both finally laying in bed with the lights out at the fine hour of 1:30 in the morning.

“you’re so far away,” lando grumbles, dragging your body into his so his one arm is around your shoulders and your face is nestled in his neck.

“better?” you ask, smiling when he shivers as your lips brush his skin.

“mhmm.” he’s quiet for a moment, running his fingers up and down your arm. “you’re gonna come to miami, right?”

“yeah, if you want me to.”

“what kind of question is that, babe?” he cranes his neck in a way that tells you he’s fixing you with a judgy look even though you can’t see each other.

you shrug, feeling the giggles building up again for no reason whatsoever. “i dunno.”

“obviously i want you there, why wouldn’t i?”

“i dunno,” you repeat. “it’s miami. maybe you just wanna party with all your homies.” and just like that, you’re laughing again.

“oh dear god, here we go,” he sighs, pressing his lips together to repress his own laughter as your body shakes against his. “my homies? when have i ever referred to any of my mates as my ‘homie’?”

he sounds so incredulous that you laugh even harder. “oh, you’re so british! i can’t call them your mates, lan. it sounds too weird.”

“so homies is the word you went with? why can’t you be normal and just say my friends?”

“why can’t you be normal and say your friends?” you shoot back, and that does lando in.

“it’s not funny,” he tries to admonish, and it’s entirely true, but it’s a moot point when you can barely understand him through his laughter.

“stop laughing then!”

“you stop!”

naturally, that makes you both laugh harder still, to the point where you have to roll away from him, clutching your stomach from how badly all the laughing is making it hurt.

“i can’t breathe,” lando gasps from behind you.

“stop laughing,” you repeat. “you’re killing me.”

“i think i’m dying,” he continues like he didn’t hear you, and he honestly might not have because your face is half shoved into your pillow in your attempts to stifle yourself.

a few more minutes go by of the two of you absolutely losing your minds before you’re finally able to catch your breath.

“ow,” you whine, holding your stomach. “i think i just grew a six pack.”

“i think mine just became ten times more defined,” lando says, voice raspy from all the exertion on his vocal chords.

“ooh, lemme feel.”

“absolutely not, because you’re going to tickle me,” he grabs your wrist out of thin air. “i know your tricks, baby. i’ve laughed more than enough tonight thanks to you.”

“not my fault you’re weird and british.”

“i love you,” he says sweetly, pulling you back towards him and kissing your forehead. “now’s where you say, ‘i love you too.’”

“i love you too,” you reply dutifully, blindly reaching for his face so you can kiss him properly. “even though you’re weird and british.”

he kisses you again. “i thought it was especially because i’m weird and british.”

you snuggle into his side, now thoroughly exhausted. “please don’t make me laugh more, lan.”

you both know he’s right, of course, but you usually need to have the last word, so he lets you get away with it. he does love you, after all, even though you had him in stitches over nothing at 1:30 in the morning.

word count: 790

masterlist — join my tag list here!

note: this was sooo self indulgent, like i was laughing as i wrote this because the term “homies” is so silly to me for some reason. also helped me test my dialogue skills!! n e wayz…

requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation!

reblogs are greatly appreciated <33

dividers by @/saradika

tags: @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @c-losur3 @papayatori @ssprayberrythings @namgification @maih23 @evlkking @witchycarmen @ilovethispookie @maxverstappenfan79 @sya-skies @sweatrevenge5436-blog @kimis-gloves @mia-rrrs @decafmickey @customsbyjcg-blog @bigheartsthings @tania2748 @scuderiadevils @iloveyou3000morgan @ctrlyomomma @hiireadstuff @daemyratwst @arian-directioner @evelyn-ny @avg-golden-retriever @likedbygaslyy @vintagefucksstuff @piastorys @jisungstuff @personwhoisther @bernelflo

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Kicking

Summary: The past few weeks of your pregnancy, Baby Peña number 2 has been kicking you non-stop. Javi tries his best to help you relax and give you some relief.

Word Count: 3.4K

Pairing: Dad!Javier Peña x Wife!reader (Reader's nickname is Osita, no use of y/n)

Warnings: SMUT (18+) unprotected p in v sex, pregnancy sex, vaginal fingering, oral (f receiving) creampie, praise kink, breeding kink (give this man a football team), pregnancy hormones, Javi being the best dad/husband (idk what to tell you guys, he is truly the best)

A/N: This was inspired by an ask I got from an anon a while back, and the Dad!Javi brainrot has been unstoppable the past few days and I missed our sweet little family so here we are again 🤪 I love the Peña's more than life itself!!! Thank you @endlessthxxghts for proofreading and letting me harass you with my endless Dad!Javi thots ILY 😩💕

Series Masterlist Never Too Late Masterlist

“Ouch, that one hurt. You are relentless, aren’t you?” You whispered down to your belly, setting down the dishes you were washing down next to the sink as you rubbed at your slowly swelling stomach. While you had very quickly remembered all the strange and painful sensations of growing a tiny human inside you throughout your second pregnancy, baby number two was definitely giving you a run for your money. Lucy had been easy- The occasional kick or bump, her movement enough to make you feel relieved and excited, but never enough to make you feel miserable. Even though you were still only 6 months pregnant, you were convinced that Baby Two was going to come out as a triple threat soccer star, football kicker and boxer, because their movement day in and day out for the last few weeks had been constant. 

“You okay, Hermosa?” With your daughter Lucy hoisted on his hip, Javi paused from helping you to put away the rest of the dishes to turn around towards you, his brow scrunching in concern at the pained look growing across your face as you rested your hand on your stomach. 

“Otay Mommy?” Lucy asked, mimicking Javi, making the two of you let out a little laugh, enough to ease you back to washing the dishes you had set down before Baby Peña had started their 15th boxing round of the day in your stomach. 

“I’m okay.” You smiled up at Javi, who had made his way behind you, wrapping his free arm around your waist as you stood at the sink, still holding Lucy in the other. “Baby Tutu really likes to kick Mommy’s belly a lot.” You sighed, responding to your daughter, even though the comment was more intended for Javi. 

“Baby Tutu!” Lucy beamed at the new nickname she had given her baby sibling, after you and Javi had been referring to them as “Baby Two”, which had quickly turned into “Baby Tutu”, after Lucy had begun babbling it around the house. 

Javi frowned, rubbing his hand along the small of your back before leaning down to kiss you on the forehead, feeling guilty at how uncomfortable you had been recently, despite how hard you had tried to power through it. “Mama and Baby Tutu are gonna go lay down and me and you are gonna finish the dishes and get ready for bed, Lil Miss.” It was now Javi’s turn to reply, talking to you through Lucy to try and insist that you go take a break before you pushed yourself too hard and felt even worse. 

“Jav, it’s fine, you made dinner and I-” 

“Lucy Goosey and I are more than capable of cleaning up and getting ready for bedtime while Mommy gets some well deserved relaxing time, aren’t we, Lucy?” Javi smiled, giving Lucy a little raspberry on her belly, making her squeal and grin in delight as she flapped her arms in Javi’s grasp. “I’ve got her, don’t worry.” Giving your hip a little squeeze, Javi gave you a reassuring nod, almost insisting that you go give yourself a break to at least soothe Baby Two’s fight club antics in the comfort of your bed. 

“Thank you, Jav.” You smiled, letting out a relieved sigh, your pregnancy hormones causing your eyes to well with thankful tears for your amazing and understanding husband. 

“Of course, Osita. We’re gonna say goodnight to Momma, okay Lucy? Can you say, goodnight Momma, we love you?” Javi cooed at Lucy, prompting her to give you a little wave goodbye as you reached up to pepper a few kisses across her rosy cheeks as she giggled. 

“Night night, Momma. Wuv you!” Lucy babbled, reaching out towards you for a hug as you sandwiched her between you and Javi, giving her and Javi one last kiss before you trudged your way across the house and up the stairs towards your bedroom. 

Even though you were thankful for Javi taking care of Lucy’s bedtime routine for the night, it hadn’t eased Baby Peña’s soccer tournament in your stomach in the slightest. Even after slipping on one of Javi’s oversized shirts and your pajama shorts, tucking yourself into bed and throwing on the TV to watch the Dallas Stars game that had just started, you could not get anywhere close to comfortable, tossing and turning in your bed, trying your best not to curse in frustration at your incredibly active baby. 

“How ya doin’, Momma?” Javi asked, gently closing the bedroom door behind him seemingly finished with putting Lucy down for bed as he began to strip out of his work clothes and into his cotton sleep shorts, tossing the dirty items in the hamper before crawling into bed next to you. 

“Your child better grow up to be the next David Beckham.” You groaned, sitting up on your pillows to look over at Javi, with a sympathetic smile spread across his face. 

“My kid, huh?” Javi chuckled, laying his hand over your stomach, gently rubbing circles with his thumb against the worn fabric of his shirt you were wearing. “If my kid grows up to be the next David Beckham, I will gladly take all the credit.” 

The two of you laughed as you gave Javi a playful shove, rolling your eyes at his joke only to be interrupted by another sharp kick to your side, making you wince uncomfortably. “Ugh, yes, you can get all the credit if you can convince your child to stop bruising my internal organs.” You half grumbled, half laughed, as you readjusted yourself to lay down on your side, now face to face with Javi. “Lucy was never this active, especially this early. I have a feeling we’re gonna have our hands full with this one.” 

“A handful just like her Momma.” Javi smiled, snaking his hand under the hem of your shirt to rest his palm against your skin, running his hand back and forth over your belly. 

“I don’t know, Jav. I really think this one is a boy.” You huffed, bracing yourself again as another punch landed underneath Javi’s hand, making his face light up, always enamored to feel the baby moving in your stomach, even though you weren’t quite feeling the same. 

“I’ll be happy with whatever they are, but I’ll be even happier if they stop trying to hurt their mamá, huh bebito (little baby)?” Javi cooed, leaning over to press a soft kiss on your stomach. “Déjela relajarse, por favor mi amorcito (Let her relax, please my little love).” 

Even though this pregnancy didn’t have as much in common with your first one as you would have hoped, if there was one similarity they shared, it was that something about hearing Javi’s voice made your babies relax instantly. Not only did it make your heart absolutely melt every single time, but you also couldn’t have been more thankful that Javi’s sweet sounds were able to bring you some much needed relief.  

“Nosotros te amamos mucho Chiquitita, pero su papá necesito ayudar a su mamá relajarse también. (We love you so much, little one, but your dad needs to help your mom relax too). And I would prefer it if you weren’t kicking her while I did it.” Javi smirked, slowly trailing his hands and kisses down your stomach, shooting you a quick wink. 

“Javi!” You playfully scolded, giving him a little shove as he scooted his body down the bed, coming face to face with your heat as he ran his hands up and down the soft skin of your thighs, his fingers tugging at the waistband of your sleep shorts. 

“You gonna let me help you relax, Hermosa?” Javi mewled, placing languid kisses along the inside of your legs, carefully helping to raise your hips to pull your shorts and underwear off your hips, tossing them to the floor. You let out a content sigh as you leaned your head back against your pillow, feeling Javi’s fingers slide through your folds, collecting the arousal that had already been pooling between your legs since the moment Javi had laid down next to you. 

You had gotten to the point in your pregnancy where you were insatiably horny all the time and much to Javi’s delight, he was more than happy to help you with your problem however and whenever he could, even though you had to be a little more strategic (and quiet) this time around with Lucy in the house. Despite the constant kicking that had quite literally been a pain in your side the past few weeks, it was almost like Javi could sense how worked up and needy you were and couldn’t help but feel a little satisfied that he was the only thing that could cure the constant ache between your legs. 

Javi nudged your knees open, letting them fall to the sides as he pressed the pads of his fingers against your clit, the sensation making you let out a whimper you tried your best to silence by biting down on your lip. “So wet for me, sweet girl. Gonna take good care of you, Momma. You deserve it. Gotta keep quiet for me though, okay?” 

You nodded frantically as Javi easily slid two fingers into your dripping heat, slowly pumping in and out of you as you felt the heat of his breath hovering over your cunt before he licked a long, broad strip through your folds, already making you instinctively buck your hips towards his face. 

Javi hooked his free arm around one of your thighs, holding you in place as he began to lap you up, each stroke of his tongue slow and methodical as his fingers began to curl inside you, pressing into the sweet spot that he knew all too well would make you fall apart around him. 

You couldn’t help but feel your bottom half squirm against your sheets, reaching down to tug at the dark curls of Javi’s hair, trying to find any sort of relief to keep from being a loud, moaning and whimpering mess as his tongue worked along your cunt, lapping you up like a man starved. His mouth latched along your clit, sucking at your sensitive bundle of nerves as his fingers pumped inside you, making the tingle at the base of your spine already begin to build in a needy desperation. 

“Javi, holy fuck- oh my god baby, don’t stop, please don’t stop.” You whimpered, somehow managing to keep your voice just above a whisper as Javi pulled away to respond, still keeping a steady pace with his hand as he felt your pussy start to flutter around his fingers. 

“I won’t stop baby, you can let go for me, Osita. I’ve got you.” 

With that, he was back between your legs, relentlessly working along your heat with his mouth as the the coil in your belly wound so tightly, you were on the brink of snapping. 

“Javi, Javi, Javi, oh shit- Fuck, fuck, I’m gonnaahhhhhhhhh.” 

With that, your orgasm flooded through your body, pleasure spreading through every inch of you as you clenched around Javi’s fingers, soaking his hand and face with your arousal as you came, using every fiber of your being to keep from screaming out his name as you reached your high. 

“Shhhhhh, that’s it, Hermosa.” Javi smirked, squeezing his fingers into the meat of your thigh as you rode out your orgasm, trying to help you keep quiet. Javi peeked his head back up as your breathing began to even out, your chest rising and falling in satisfaction as his kisses began to travel back up your body, stopping at your neck to take extra time to nip along your jawline, his teeth tugging at your earlobe as his voice rasped against your skin. 

“Such a good girl for me, Osita. So fucking wet. Fuck, I need to feel you, baby. Can I?” 

You nodded rapidly, feeling how hard he already was under his sleep shorts, his erection tenting the cotton fabric and staining it with his precum. “Yes, oh my god, please.” You moaned under your breath, pulling him in for an electric kiss, your mouths meeting with a passionate intensity. 

“How do you want me, Hermosa?” He asked, breaking from your kiss. You had gotten to the point in your pregnancy that you were limited on options, which was never a problem since Javi had no problem making you feel incredible however the two of you fucked. Even with how horny you were, and any position would have been fine, Javi was always adamant that you being comfortable was the most important, and would let you call the shots. 

“Can you spoon me? I’m not gonna lie, being punched in the gut all day has me exhausted, I’m too tired to get on top. Sorry, that is like, the most unsexy thing to say but-” 

“Hey, I’ll do whatever you want, Osita. And it is fucking sexy because you’re growing our future soccer star.” He teased, cradling your face in his hand, pressing a soft kiss on your lips as you laughed, rolling your eyes. 

“They better be a star after all the grief they’ve caused me.” 

“I’m being serious though, baby. You know I think you are the most beautiful woman on the face of this earth, but seeing you all gorgeous and pregnant? Carrying our baby again? Fuck me, that’s the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.” Javi beamed, peppering kisses down your body as he helped you to lay down on your side, gently lifting your legs to put one of his pillows under your knees to prop them up. Javi shuffled his shorts down his legs, kicking them off the side of the bed before scooting behind you on his side, reaching down to stroke himself a few times as he lined up with your entrance, running his cock through your folds and collecting your slick as he caged his chest against your back. “You gonna let me prove to you how fucking perfect you are? Show you how much I love my beautiful fucking wife?” 

You could feel his tip begin to slowly press inside your heat, easily sliding in from how wet you were, working his way deeper, taking his time as he buried himself in your cunt inch by inch until he bottomed out, the sweet sting of his fullness making you moan with no regard for your volume. 

“Shhhhhhh, I know baby, I know. You gotta keep quiet for me. Don’t wanna wake up Lucy.” Javi rasped in your ear, draping his arm over your body, letting his hand run up and down your side to try and soothe you before he kept going. “Promise you’re gonna be a good girl and keep quiet?” 

“Mhhmmmm, please, I promise, I need you Javi.” You whimpered, grinding your bottom half back into Javi, desperate for him to keep going. 

“Jesus Christ- fuck, I need you too, Hermosa.” Javi grunted through gritted teeth, slowly pulling out before pressing back into your pussy, taking his sweet time as he savored every stroke. “So fucking wet for me, Osita.” 

So wet, that all you could hear in your room was the lewd noises of Javi thrusting in and out of you over your muted moans you were trying to keep contained as you bit down on your tongue. 

Each snap of his hips felt deeper than the last, the sweet sting of his stretch making you absolutely lose your mind as he punched against your g-spot at a slow and savory pace, pressing languid kisses along your neck and shoulder as the hot breath of his words hit your skin. 

“I love you so fucking much, Osita. I’m so fucking lucky. You’re so perfect. Perfect wife, perfect mom to our daughter, perfect all pregnant and carrying our baby. Can’t wait until I can fuck another baby into you.” As if him whispering into your ear as he fucked into with an intensity and passion that had you reeling, Javi reached his hand around your front, the pads of his fingers meeting your throbbing clit, making you lose all control as a ragged moan escaped from your lips. 

Javi’s hand immediately shot up to your mouth, carefully covering it before you got any louder, now trying his best to keep from groaning as he tried to keep you quiet. “I know Hermosa, fuck- fuck, we gotta stay quiet, baby.” Javi convincing himself just as much as he was convincing you, his grunts becoming louder and louder as they rumbled in his chest, feeling your cunt beginning to clench tighter around his cock. 

You knew that despite how hard you tried, with how good you felt, and how quickly the heat in your belly was starting to bloom once again, there was no way you were going to be able to stop yourself from keeping quiet. Giving in to the fact that Javi was going to have no choice but to cover your mouth, you wrapped your hand over his, pushing his thumb into your mouth, letting your tongue swirl and suck over it as Javi continued to thrust into you, his pace now starting to quicken as he felt your pussy fluttering around him. 

“Fuck- oh fuck me.” Javi groaned, punching deeper and harder against the spot inside you that made you crumble, needing to make you cum again before he fell apart just as quickly as you were. “Touch yourself, baby. I’m not gonna- shit- I’m not gonna last much longer. Need you to cum again. Need you to- fuck- soak my cock before I fuck you full of me.” 

You let your hands drop down, reaching between your legs to rub your clit, barely needing any pressure at all before your second orgasm came crashing through you, moaning into Javi’s broad palm wrapped over your mouth as pleasure radiated through every inch of your body. 

As Javi felt you fall apart, his thrusts became faster and sloppier, quickly following suit,  spilling deep inside you after only a few more pumps, groaning through gritted teeth as he milked himself of every last drop. Resting his forehead against the back of your shoulder, you could feel Javi’s damp curls sticking to your skin as both your chests heaved deeply, trying to catch your breath as you came down from your highs. As Javi lifted his head up, you could feel his lips pressing soft kisses against your back, his fingertips tracing gentle circles on your skin, keeping his chest pressed to yours. 

“You okay, Hermosa?” Javi cooed, letting the tips of his fingers dance along your soft skin as he let out a soft hiss, pulling out of your heat, feeling the mix of your spend dripping down your thighs, planting one more kiss on your shoulder before heading off to the bathroom, returning with a warm washcloth. 

“Okay? I’m amazing. You finally got the munchkin to stop kicking and you made me cum so hard, holy shit, this is the best I have felt all day.” You laughed, shaking your head in blissed out satisfaction as Javi gently wiped you up, tossing the washcloth into the hamper as you turned over to face him, cupping his face as your lips met in a tender kiss, a soft smile peeking out the corners of both of your lips. “Thank you.” 

“For what, Osita?” Javi questioned, his brow slightly scrunching in confusion as his sweet brown eyes stared back at you, brushing a stray piece of hair from your face. 

“For being so amazing. For taking such good care of me, for being such a great dad, I don’t know, I’m so lucky to have you, Javi. I love you.” You smiled, letting tears flow down your cheeks, quickly trying to wipe them away in embarrassment. “Sorry, hormones.” You shrugged, letting out a little laugh as Javi’s thumb gently swiped across your wet face, drying your tears. 

“You deserve everything, Osita. Eres mi amor, mi vida, mi todo. Te amo mucho. (You are my love, my life, my everything. I love you so much.)” Javi beamed, pulling you closer to lay against his chest, resting his hand on your stomach, gently rubbing it back and forth. “Mi familia es perfecto. Mi hermosa esposa, mi hermosa mija, mi hermosa futbolista (My family is perfect. My beautiful wife, my beautiful daughter, my beautiful soccer player)." The two of you laughed, looking down at your belly for a moment before letting out a little “oof” as you felt a tiny kick underneath where Javi’s hand was placed. 

“Tell your little soccer star they can wait to practice until the morning.” 

Taglist:

@cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @messinadress @milly-louise @jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled @pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog @hopplessilse @mxtokko

[ranhaitanisgf]

heyy congrats on 2k! can i request delinquent & class president + stuck together with baji? thanks and congrats again

—baji keisuke // delinquent & student council president // stuck together

☆ ˎˊ˗ i went. soooo . overboard . this was too good though once i got going i couldn't stoppp omg. all this is lowk inspired by that one scene from the webtoon a reason to die, so iykyk :3 thank you for requesting anon, and i hope youre still around 2 years later to read this! enjoyyy xoxo

☆ ˎˊ˗ warning! small references from the 'a letter from baji keisuke' prequel series!

☆ ˎˊ˗ fem!reader

☆ ˎˊ˗ wc ; 2.5k+

masterlist || 2k masterlist

the breeze of the early evening wind was doing wonders for you at the moment; it was nice to take a moment for yourself amongst all your responsibilities and just relax. 

it was even nicer that you were able to enjoy a cold beverage after completing all your student council duties; the vending machine on the rooftop was a great investment, (you’d been against it when someone pitched the idea, but you’re so glad you approved it). all of this paired with your favorite music playing through your earbuds from your iPod? 

yeah, this was a perfect moment. 

you perked up a bit when you heard the door to the rooftop open, looking to see who was there. 

“hm? oh, baji-kun!” the boy looked over to you at the call of his name, the corners of his lips turning up when he recognized you. “what’re you still doing here? i thought you would be home already.” you asked, pulling an earbud out of your ear. 

“chifuyu and ryusei were helping me with some stuff after school and we just finished up. how ‘bout you? it’s getting pretty late.” you sighed at his query, the stress coming back to you just thinking about all the things you have left to do. 

“there was a lot of club budgeting to finish because a lot of the clubs are requesting more budget. all the presidents are getting mad at me for choosing another club over them, but it’s like, maybe if you were more productive with your club, i would allot more budget, y’know? gah, just thinking about it gives me a headache…i haven’t even finished the revised budgeting for half of them…” you shook your head, sighing at the predicament. when you looked back up, you saw baji adjusting his glasses awkwardly, as if he didn’t know what to say.

“sorry about that, baji-kun. i just came up here for a small break from it and ended up complaining about it to you.”

“nah, it’s fine. ‘m kinda like that with studying too.” 

“oh, right! how has the studying been going for you-? wait, hm…” noticing that he was still standing, you paused, slipping your school blazer off and laying it down next to you, patting it. “here, come sit down! you don’t have to keep standing, y’know. i’m not gonna bite!” you teased, feeling satisfied when he came and sat down next to you. 

“anyways! how has the studying been? have your test scores been alright lately?” 

“yeah, they’ve been alright. enough to pass.” 

“i’m glad to hear it! you’re improving so much, it’s so impressive! oh, you can also always ask me for a tutoring session or if you need anything. that’s what i’m here for!” you offered, smiling at him. “i admire your diligence, so i’m happy to help with anything!” 

baji nodded at your words, a small smile on his lips. “yeah, thanks.” 

after a few moments of silence, you offered one of your earbuds to baji, who accepted. you weren’t sure if the two of you had the same music taste, but you figured it was worth a try, and surprisingly, he didn’t seem to complain at all. in fact, he even complimented your song choice, which made you feel a very normal amount of happy. a very normal amount. 

˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗

you were scared awake by a sudden yell, jerking as you immediately sat up, wondering what was going on. 

“hey!! open this door right now!!” the banging on the door drew your attention to baji, who was no longer by your side and was yelling at the door. “hello?! shit…” he walked away from it, sighing a bit. 

now that you were a bit more awake and coherent, you realized that it was dark outside. 

oh shit…

“ohhh my god, i’m gonna be in so much trouble, ohhhh my god…” you mumbled, scrambling for your phone to check what time it was. when you finally found it and flipped it open, the only thing that popped up on the screen was the dead battery symbol, making you groan. 

“uh…” baji started, seeming a bit awkward. “the door…is locked.” 

“what?!” you exclaimed, shooting up and walking towards the door. you tried the doorknob to no avail, proving baji’s words to be true. “oh my god…dude, i’m so dead. school administration might actually kill me if they find out about this…” 

baji was running a hand through his hair, also seeming to be very stressed. “my mom’s gonna kick my ass…” 

now that you were looking more closely, you realized that baji had ditched his glasses and that his ponytail was gone, making him seem almost unrecognizable. in fact, you might not have recognized him if you’d passed by him on the street looking this way. 

in all honesty, he actually looked so much better without the thick lenses of his glasses blocking the view of his amber eyes, and you thought that his dark hair being free from a hair tie suits him a lot better. you’re curious to see how he dresses outside of school now; he would probably fit streetwear pretty good-

wait, you have to focus. there are more important things to be thinking about right now. 

right, right. 

focus. 

“baji-kun, does your phone have any battery?” 

“no…” he mumbled, his hands shoved into his pockets as he looked at the sky. you sighed, trying to think of something. in the midst of your thinking, a chilly breeze blew by, making you shiver a bit. 

“ahh, i can’t believe this is happening.” you murmured, laughing a bit at the ridiculousness of the situation. “actually though, i’m sorry about this, baji-kun. you wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for me.” you said, feeling a bit guilty. after all, you had been the one who had offered for him to sit down with you, and from what you remember, you were the one who fell asleep. 

“it’s fine, i fell asleep too.” he said, leaning down to grab your school blazer off of the floor. “here, put this back on. it’s cold.” he tossed it over to you and you gladly accepted it, brushing some of the dust off before slipping it on. it helped a bit against the cold, but you supposed you underestimated how chilly the nights get in the spring. 

baji sat back down, taking his school blazer off and setting it beside him, loosening his lie. he leaned his head back against the wall and shoved his hands into his pockets. he seemed to have given up in trying to get someone’s attention, instead accepting the situation. you were about to sit down again and do the same, but you suddenly got an idea, shuffling around in your pockets for some spare change. 

“yes! 500 yen!” you whispered excitedly, walking up to the vending machine. “hey, baji-kun, do you like red bean?” 

“huh? yeah, why?”

“one sec…” you answered, putting the coins in the machine. you picked out two red bean buns, watching as they slowly dispensed and fell into the bottom compartment. reaching into the bottom, you grabbed both of them, walking a few steps and sitting next to baji. 

“i mean, it isn’t exactly dinner, but it’s something!” you said, offering one of the buns to baji. he accepted it, saying something about paying you back as he opened the wrapper, immediately taking a huge bite. you did the same, not realizing how hungry you were until you started eating it. 

“i’m actually such a genius for this!” you exclaimed, continuing to munch on the bread. “it’s so lucky that i ended up approving the budget for this vending machine!” silence fell over the two of you as you continued eating, but you felt more content than awkward. you’re glad that you ended up stuck here with someone nice like baji. 

speaking of baji, you were still a bit caught off guard by how different he looked without his glasses and ponytail. of course, you’d noticed how cute he was even before, but the word you would go with now is more like…attractive? 

really attractive, but still cute. 

“what?” 

“huh?” 

“you were lookin’ at me.” you felt your cheeks flush, a bit embarrassed at the fact that he caught you looking at him. 

“oh, i was just thinking, you look a lot different without your glasses. do you actually need them?” baji seemed to think for a moment before he spoke again. 

“nah, i jus’ don’t want people gettin’ the wrong idea about me.” he ended up saying. “i’m trying to get better with school, so if i go around lookin’ the way i do…” 

“girls will be attracted to you?” baji sputtered at your words, almost spitting out the bread that was in his mouth. 

“hah?! no!! it’s ‘cause i don’t want people knowing i’m in a gang!!” your jaw dropped at his words, and he subsequently smacked his hand over his face. 

the information was a huge shock to you. of course, you’d heard the rumors, but you’d chalked them up to just that; rumors. after all, even though baji wasn’t someone with perfect grades, you always saw him trying his best to get his grades up, and you really admired that. 

“you…pff…you’re in a gang?! riiight…” you managed to get out, giggles starting to overtake your words. “baji-kun, you literally dressed in a sailor school uniform to get extra tutoring-!” 

“hey! that was one time!” he grumbled, his ears turning pink. you finished laughing, wiping some tears from your eyes as you calmed down. 

“okay okay, sorry. i mean, are you being serious though?” you asked, feeling a bit curious.

“yeah. only losers lie about stuff like that.” 

“okay, which one then?” 

“toman.” again, your mouth dropped at his answer, but you recovered quicker than before. 

“t-toman, like tokyo manji gang…right. yes. wait, would you get arrested if people found out you were in a gang? why can’t anybody know?”

“it’s ‘cause then random dudes start showin’ up at school to fight, and then i get in trouble for fighting.”

“ohh, i guess that makes sense. why would they bother you at school though? school isn’t the place for that stuff…”

“dunno. it just gets annoying to deal with after a while, and my mom always kicked my ass when the school called her, so it was kinda crap.” you nodded thoughtfully at his words. 

“well, your secret’s safe with me, baji-kun! pinky promise i won’t say a word to anyone!” you held your pinky out, but he just looked away from you. 

“i believe you, you don’t have to-”

“c��mon!! it’s not a pinky promise if you don’t lock pinkies, y’know.” 

“...fine.” you cheered as baji relented, gently wrapping his pinky around yours. you shook your crossed pinkies and let go, feeling satisfied, (why did that small contact with him make your heart skip a beat?) 

“there! and you can beat me up or something if i break it.” you joked, leaning your head back against the wall.

“i’m not gonna beat you up.” 

“eh? why not?” 

“i don’t hit girls.” he said matter of factly, his tone quite serious. “only assholes hit girls.” you stared at him for a moment, seeing the dead serious look on his face before you smiled, closing your eyes. 

“y’know, you’re a pretty stand up guy, baji-kun. i like that about you.” you hadn’t meant to say the last part, but you were hoping he would just ignore it. 

“...thanks.” after that, there was a comfortable silence between the two of you, the only light source being the moon. you enjoyed living in tokyo, but if there was one thing you didn’t like, it was the fact that you couldn’t see the stars at all. 

“this wall is so uncomfortable…” you muttered, trying to get comfortable enough to sleep again. you’d long since given up on trying to get off the rooftop, so you figured that you might as well get some sleep since you were sure tomorrow was going to be interesting, (you weren’t looking forward to having that conversation with the principal). 

abruptly, you felt baji’s arm across your chest, pushing the side of your head to land on his shoulder. 

“better?” he asked, seeming to have no reaction. 

“uh, yeah…isn’t this uncomfortable for you though?” 

“nah.” 

“o-okay…” you said hesitantly. if you weren’t so tired, you probably wouldn’t have been able to sleep from how flustered you were right now; after all, you’ve never had a boy offer you his shoulder to sleep on, so why wouldn’t you be flustered?

it definitely wasn’t because it was baji. 

definitely not….

it was definitely because it was baji. 

˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗

bonus: 

chifuyu and ryusei both looked down at the sight in front of them, shock filling their bodies. 

they’d been worried when baji had skipped the toman meeting yesterday evening, and they had been even more worried when his phone had been switched off, spending the rest of the night trying to find out what happened to him. however, now that they knew what had happened, they were about to burst their seams from laughter. 

“pff…do, hah, do we wake them up?” chifuyu whispered, his cell phone out and snapping pictures. 

“n-nah, haha, they look pretty cozy…pfff…” ryusei whispered back, his cell phone also out and snapping pictures from every angle. 

in front of them was baji and you, your head resting on his shoulder and his head resting on top of your head, dozing off without a care in the world. he had draped his blazer over the both of you as a blanket, and if one didn’t know any better, they might think that the two of you were a couple. 

“pff…this is some good blackmail stuff,” ryusei chuckled, exuding a proud aura. “look at toman’s little keisuke, all grown up now and sleeping with his crush! that’s what dreams are made.” chifuyu spluttered at ryusei’s words, a shocked expression on his face. 

“baji-san has a crush on (y/n)-san?! isn’t she the student council president?!” he whisper-yelled. ryusei nodded and shrugged. 

“the heart wants what the heart wants, or something.” 

“both of you, shut the fuck up.” 

“eek!” 

“gah!” 

baji glared at the two boys in front of him, holding up a finger to his lips, telling them to shush. 

“what’re you still doin’ here? scram.” they both immediately made a beeline for the door, fearful of baji’s wrath after being woken up from sleep. 

baji rubbed his eyes, yawning a bit as he looked around. he’s not sure what time it is, but he’s glad that it was only those two idiots who saw the two of you and nobody else. 

we should probably get up and get to class before someone else comes up here. 

he turned to the side to wake you up, but he stopped, looking at your sleeping form. he chuckled a bit when he saw your messed up hair, wondering how it got so messed up when the two of you were sleeping sitting up. he leaned back against the wall, staring up at the clouds passing by. 

just five more minutes. 

[baby-bearie]

the incident - ajax petropolus x reader

requested by anon: omg 🙊 ajax x reader where he accidentally stones her and he gets self conscious and avoids reader but it ends with fluff???

pairing: ajax petropolus x fem!reader (referred to as girl/girlfriend)

warnings: swearing, implications of smut, but obvi not actual smut, mentions of a cut/blood

genre: angst with fluff (nobody is shocked), 1.1k words

tags: @sunflowermotel @maraseavey @tinylatina01 @obx-direction-sos @stfukie @voguesir @morgansmoreid @yunhosleftpinky @adoreyou976

The “incident” is not to be invoked. Not by word, not by glance, not by touch.

It seems that is what Ajax decided a week ago after the “incident” occurred. Not a word, not a glance, not a touch has been thrown your way since his beanie slipped off his head when you were sleeping in his dorm, and he woke up next to a statue.

It almost feels as if he never noticed you turned back into flesh. As if everytime he sees you, all he sees is that statue, and not the girl he fell asleep next to that night. As if he can’t talk to a statue.

You try to catch him on several occasions. Leaving class, out in the quad, walking in the hallways. He makes eye contact with you, makes a face like a deer in headlights and immediately turns the other way.

But deer can be trapped. And you have a plan. All it takes is a well-placed fencing saber and a well-timed hiss.

You drop the saber in mock surprise, gripping your hand to cover the palm. You force your face to crumple up as if in pain and take some shaky breaths to deliver the final blow. And then you freeze and wait for the inevitable.

Here it comes. The drop of a book bag and the running footsteps.

“You’re hurt? What happened? Let m’see, let m’see.” Ajax rushes out. He avoids your eyes but pulls at your hands, trying to glimpse at your palm.

“Come with me. Let me clean it. C’mon.” He turns and stalks off towards the botany room nearby. You follow him into it, turning and clicking the lock shut behind you. The deer falls for the bait every time.

Ajax turns on a faucet and, with his back to you, mutters, “C’mere, you should rinse it off.”

“Jax,” You start.

“Just rinse it off, Y/n.”

“Jax.” Your voice is stronger this time and for the first time in a whole week, Ajax turns and deliberately looks at you.

You grin sheepishly and uncurl your hands, revealing a clean, very much intact palm. Ajax frowns. “What? I thought you cut yourself.”

“No. Perfectly fine, Jax.” You shrug, slowly creeping closer to him.

“You’re alright?”

You breathe out. “Not entirely.”

He stands up straighter. “What’s wrong?”

“You.”

He slumps back down, covering his face in his hands. “Y/n, don’t do that. I thought you were hurt. I have to go, we have class.” He tries to move around you, but you catch him.

“Doors locked. I have the key. You’re not going anywhere.” You push him back towards the counter and he leans into it. “Talk.”

He huffs and stares at the ground. He says nothing.

“It was not your fault,” You start when he remains silent. “It was temporary. I am fine, Ajax.” He looks up at the use of his full name. Your glare is intense.

“It sort of was my fault though. It wouldn’t have happened if you were dating a guy who didn’t, you know, have reptiles on his head.”

“I love the reptiles on your head! You know that! I don’t want to date someone who’s not you, Ajax.” You shake your head.

“But you should. It’s safer. And it’s not fair that you’re in danger every time I want to see you.” He folds his hands over his torso, putting a barrier between you.

“I’ve never felt like I was in danger around you.” “Okay, then you have no fight or flight and should get that checked out.” “Stop it.”

“Why have you been ignoring me?” You throw it in his face. The reason you are having this conversation in the first place.

“I woke up in the infirmary, Ajax. I was scared. I didn’t know what happened. Fucking Xavier came when I woke up. I asked for you. He told me you didn’t want to see me.”

“I was busy.” He shrugs. “Bullshit,” You call. “That is bullshit. Why didn’t you come and see me?”

“I had just fucking stoned you, Y/n. I thought you wouldn’t want to see me!” “No! I tried to talk to you so many times this week, and you shut me out every time! Why?” Your voice raises.

“Because I was scared, too!” He snaps. “Is that what you want to hear? I was terrified. I wake up in the morning and my girlfriend is basically a fucking statue next to me and it’s my fault. It’s my fault that I can’t sleep next to my own girlfriend because I can’t control my own snakes. And you were stone, Y/n. You might’ve been scared in the infirmary but I woke up next to you. You didn’t see it. It was the worst moment of my life, and I won’t put you through it again. It’s not fair. It’s not safe. I won’t do it.”

His breath is heavy, chest rising and falling.

“No. You’re wrong. You can’t just decide it’s not safe for me. I understand, you were scared. It was a horrible experience. But it was temporary, Ajax. I am perfectly fine now. And I understand that it might happen again, but I am ready to accept that. It’s my consequence. Not yours.”

You manage to get within a few feet of him, and he stares at your arm instead of your face. He tentatively reaches out for your shoulder. And when his hand finds warm skin and not frigid stone like that morning, he collapses into you. Arms wrapping around your torso, head rested on your shoulder, practically whimpering into your shirt.

“I was so scared.” He whispers. “I thought you would hate me. I thought I hurt you.”

“I’d never hate you. I know you wouldn’t hurt a fly. It’s okay. We’re okay.” You run a hand over his back and he nods into your shoulder. “You’re okay,” He repeats.

He lifts his head off your shoulder but keeps his arms around your back loosely. “You don’t make a half-bad statue, by the way.” He tucks a piece of hair behind your ear and gives you a quick kiss.  

You grin. “Yeah?”

He nods. “You’re a work of art, pretty girl,” He runs a piece of your hair between his fingers.

“Why are you being so nice?” You narrow your eyes at him.

He smiles. “Well, I haven’t seen you in a week, and we’re here now. In a room. Door is locked. You look really beautiful. And I’ve missed you.”

You push your palms onto his chest, pushing yourself off of him. “Absolutely not, perv. We have class.”

“Oh, so now we have class?” “You know, you were so much more tolerable when you were not talking to me.”

[atomicami]

omg HIII. could you maybe like- write abt like abby and reader at school (in college obvi) and abby pulls reader into a bathroom and like makes sure it’s empty and locks the door, and things get uh.. hot and heavy?🤭

U DONT HAVE TO IF U DONT WANNA BUT THIS IDEA POPPED INTO MY HEAD AND IM A SHIT WRITER AND HAVE SHIT GRAMMER.

btw, ur awesome.

hi anon! i hope you don’t mind, i changed the setting to a college/frat party instead, but i hope you like it though! tysm for the love 🤍

all clear

abby anderson x fem!reader (college au)

- summary: it’s halloweekend, and after a lot of convincing, you reluctantly agree to be dina’s plus one to a costume party that’s being hosted at her boyfriend’s frat house. the night flies by slow for you, until an encounter with a certain classmate changes that.

- content: smut MDNI, no outbreak/modern au, reader and abby are in college (as stem majors), reader is a little introverted, frat house setting, college partying, some alcohol consumption, bathroom hookup, kinda softdom!abby, oral & fingering (r!receiving), reader is wearing heels, and abby tells you to keep them on, nicknames instead of y/n (mostly angel), and i think that’s it but lmk if i missed anything else

- author’s note: happy halloween everyone! i’ve been having a bit of writer’s block with my bfm!abby fic lately, so i have to admit the timing for this request was perfect since it gave me the inspiration to write out this fic. i hope you guys like it!

“I still don’t get why you won’t come join me.”

You let out a sigh, taking your eyes off of your laptop and looking over at Dina, who was currently getting ready.

“Because, Dina, I’ve told you a million times that parties are not my thing,” you reply. “Especially if it’s in one of those awful frat houses.”

For the past week now, Dina’s been trying to get you to come to a costume party that’s being hosted at her boyfriend’s fraternity, Sigma Chi. It’s known to be one of the biggest fraternities at your university, and it’s also known for throwing the biggest parties.

The thing is, unlike Dina, you could honestly care less about college parties. What was the point of drinking and partying all night long when you’d just end up passing out and forgetting everything the next morning? You didn’t see the fun in it. If anything, you’d rather be spending a Saturday night curled up in your bed with a movie than getting blackout drunk and waking up hungover on some random person’s couch.

Dina finishes zipping up her skirt before turning around to face you. “But it’s Halloweekend…Don’t you wanna get out of here for a bit, and have some fun?” she asks. “I seriously don’t get how our dorm doesn’t give you any claustrophobia.”

You let out a chuckle and roll your eyes. “I think I’ll be fine, Dee. Besides, I need to study for my chemistry midterm next week.”

Dina lets out a groan in response. “You’re seriously going to spend this night locked up in our dorm studying?” You watch as she walks over to your bed with her black over-the-knee boots in hand and sits down next to you to put them on. “I truly love you babe, but you have got to let loose a little.”

You look over to your side as Dina goes on while she zips up her boots. “Besides…” she continues, zipping up her second boot. “There’s a possibility that a certain classmate of yours might be there…” she says with a wink as she nudges your shoulder with hers.

The ‘certain classmate’ that Dina was referring to was Abigail Anderson. She was also a STEM major just like you, but particularly majoring more towards the engineering field instead. You’d be lying if you said that you didn’t find her attractive, but you never found the desire to go for her simply because you felt like she was out of your league. You figured that she only saw you as nothing more than a classmate who would always sit in the back row during every lecture.

You shake your head and roll your eyes at Dina. “Just because Abby and I have the same chemistry class doesn’t mean we have actual chemistry, you know.”

“Okay, but she’ll probably still be there…maybe this party could be an opportunity for you to create some of that chemistry…” she replies back, nudging your shoulder once again.

Dina was most likely right about that. Abby didn’t seem like much of a party person either, but her best friend Manny sure was. Coincidentally, both Manny and Jesse just happened to be in the same fraternity together, which created a mutual connection between the two of you. And given that both Abby and Manny were on the market right now, chances are that she was going to be at that party too.

But as much as Dina was trying to convince you to go right now, you were trying your best to hold back.

“Well even if I did want to go…I still have a midterm to study for, so I still can’t come,” you said, pointing toward your laptop screen.

Once you turned around, you didn’t see the smirk that was growing on Dina’s face. She was so close to getting you to give in and join this party with her.

You felt the weight of your bed shift as Dina got up and walked around to where she was now standing in front of you. “You can study tomorrow,” she says, closing your laptop shut. “Come on, we’re going to the frat house.”

“But I don’t have a—”

“You can find something in my closet.” she interrupts back, pointing towards her closet. “Now start getting ready, I'm gonna go fix up my hair so we can leave.”

You watch as Dina picks up the set of bunny ears off her bed and walks to the bathroom, the sound of her clicking boots following along with her. After a moment of hesitation, you finally muster up the energy to get off of your bed and walk over to Dina’s closet to pick something out.

Your eyes meet with a crammed closet of clothes once you open the doors of her closet. As a roommate, Dina was one to keep her things organized, but when it came to her clothes, it was like an addiction. Her closet was so packed that if one more hanger were to go inside, you’re convinced that it would probably burst.

Taking a deep breath, you dive into her closet and dig around for her past party costumes, praying you’ll find a good candidate to wear for the party. You’ll have to admit that it's definitely not gonna be an easy task, given that Dina is obsessed with all things tight and revealing when it comes to going out, especially with costumes.

You fish out a few costumes from her closet and bring them over to your bed, spreading them all out to get a good look. At first glimpse of the costumes, you realize that none of these options are a good fit for you, so you try your best to pick the best option through the process of elimination:

Schoolgirl? No…

Nurse? Not really…

Cowgirl? Perhaps…

Mermaid? Absolutely not.

Eventually, you’ve narrowed your choices until there was just one option left: an angel costume.

You pick up the costume off of your bed and take a look at it. The outfit consisted of a white tie front corset top, paired with a white skirt and thigh highs, and topped off with a halo and large feathered wings. Out of all the costumes that Dina had in her collection, you figured that this one would be the most suitable for you.

The bathroom door opens, and you look up to see Dina now fully ready in her Playboy bunny costume. She smiles once she sees the costume in your hands. “That’s a perfect choice, and I even have the shoes to match with it,” she says, pointing at it. You then feel her hands on your hips, motioning you towards the bathroom. “Now go get ready! I don’t wanna miss the party!”

Yeah, this was going to be a long night for you.

🕸 ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩🕸 .𖥔 ݁ ˖🕷️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 🕸 ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩🕸

The two of you arrive at the Sigma Chi frat house, and you can already tell how packed it is just by looking at it. Music was blasting, multicolor lights flashing through the windows, and even a group of guys chugging a keg on the front lawn. The sight of it alone was already making you start to feel sick. You’re starting to wish you were back at your dorm now, studying as you were before Dina dragged you to this party. But it was too late to back out now.

You both approach the front door of the house, and Dina rings the bell. A smile soon appears on her face once she sees Jesse answering the door.

“Hey you!” she exclaims, leaning in to give her boyfriend a hug and kiss before pulling away to adjust his hat. Based on the red velvet robe, anchor chain, and captain’s hat, it's clear that Jesse was dressed up as Hugh Hefner to match up with his girlfriend.

Jesse smiles back at her before looking over to you, his eyes slightly widening in surprise. “Wow, I did not expect you to be here too,” he says to you.

Dina looks back at you before looking back at Jesse. “Believe me, you have no idea how much convincing it took me to get her to come join me,” she says to him.

Jesse simply nods in response, his eyes now on the both of you. “Well in that case, welcome to Sigma Chi,” he says, stepping towards the side to allow you two to come in. “Make yourselves at home, there are drinks and food in the kitchen, and whatever you guys do, please don’t fuck with the thermostat…the electric bills in this house are already fucking expensive as it is. But other than that, knock yourselves out.”

As soon as you enter the house, you realize that it is just as chaotic as you saw it from the outside. The night’s just getting started, and you truly have no idea when it’s gonna end.

Before you know it, 20 minutes have passed by, but to you, it feels more like a decade. You were upstairs, sitting on a couch, watching Dina and Jesse play beer pong with another couple. You’ve drank less than half of the Twisted Tea that’s in your hand, simply because you had thought at the time that it was just a regular iced tea when you picked it out of the cooler. The music and lighting were overbearing, and the corset and heels were practically suffocating your chest and feet by now. You wanted nothing more than to leave the frat house and head back to your dorm to rid yourself of this feeling.

But instead, you stand up from the couch, deciding to opt for a different drink from the kitchen downstairs. Before leaving you walk over to Dina and tap her on the shoulder to let her know. “I’m gonna get another drink,” you tell her loudly, hoping she can hear you over the music. Dina looks down at your drink and nods. “Get something stronger next time! I think Jesse has a bottle of Smirnoff in the liquor cabinet!” she shouts back at you.

You simply sigh and walk out of the room, the hard iced tea still in your hand. You look down and watch the liquid sloshing around in the small hole of the can until you bump yourself into a familiar figure.

“Shit!” you mutter quietly, almost spilling your drink. “I’m so sorry, I—“ your words get cut off as soon as you look up to see who you have just run into. “Abby?”

“Hey there,” she said with a smile, looking back down at you. “I didn’t expect to see you at this party…what brings you here?”

“Oh, I um…” you stammer, looking back into the room you had just walked out of before turning back to her. “Dina wouldn’t stop begging me to come so…I’m here.” You tell her.

Abby nodded in response, finally putting the pieces together. “Makes sense, I definitely figured you wouldn’t be a party person, not that it’s a bad thing though.” she tells you. You can’t help but notice her checking you out, her eyes trailing over the angel costume that was tightly hugging your figure. “This costume looks pretty on you,” she says, running her thumb and pointer finger through the large feathered wings that were on your back.

You try your best not to get flustered over her compliment. “Thank you, um…” you take a moment to look at what she was wearing. She had on her usual clothes, dark wash jeans, and a muscle tank, except she had on a backward snapback hat with the fraternity’s emblem printed on it. “Are you…supposed to be a Sigma Chi member?” you ask.

You hear the blonde let out a chuckle before nodding again. “Yeah, um…costumes are never really my thing, so this is really all I can come up with,” she tells you. “Besides, Manny dragged me into coming to this party anyway, so I figured I’d steal something out of it.”

You smile back at her response before letting out a chuckle as well. “Well, it suits you, Abs…” you let out a sigh before continuing. “If I’m being honest, I’m so glad I ran into you…This night has been flying by so slow for me,” you admit to her, briefly looking down at the ground.

That’s when an idea passed through Abby’s mind. However, she needed to know if you were up for it. “I can help it fly by faster, if you'd like…”

You looked back up at her, and you truly couldn’t hide the smirk that was appearing on your face. “Is that so?” you ask her. “What do you have in mind, exactly?”

She doesn’t respond right away, but instead reaches a hand out to you. “How about you come with me?” she offers, smirking back at you.

You hesitate for a moment before soon giving in, leaving your drink at the nearest surface you can find before grabbing her hand and following her. She walks you down the crowded hall before stopping at a door that was on her left, assuming that it might be a bedroom or bathroom. She opens the door with no hesitation, only to be greeted with an angry couple protesting from inside.

“Shit! Sorry!” she exclaimed, quickly closing the door again. She then turns to you and you can’t help but let out a laugh, leading her to shake her head at her poor decision to do that. “Come on, I think there’s another bathroom downstairs.

With your hand still being held by hers, you walk down the stairs with her until you get back to the first level of the frat house. You then feel her hand letting go only to snake itself around your waist, holding you close to her broad build as you both walk through the partying crowds of people. Abby soon stopped at a door that was on her right, this time knocking twice before slowly turning the doorknob to take a peek inside.

You also try to take a look inside to see if it is empty. “All clear?” you ask her.

She nods in response. “All clear.”

You then feel her hand moving over your wings down to the small of your back, motioning you to go inside first before entering herself, closing the door shut, and locking it.

The last bit of patience you had left was now gone the moment you stepped into the bathroom. Once Abby had turned around after locking the door and switching the light on, you grabbed her by her muscle tank and pulled her toward you in a kiss. As soon as the contact hits her, you can feel her lips smirking against yours in the kiss. One of her large hands rests at your waist while the other runs through your hair, causing the plastic halo on your head to fall and clatter on the ground.

You try your best not to trip on your heels as she slowly walks you backward toward the bathroom counter that was by the sink. Her hands that were on your waist and in your hair soon moved down to the back of your thighs, giving you a boost to lift you and sit you down on the counter.

Abby pulls her lips away from yours to get a good look at you, smiling as she does so. Your lips were plump from kissing her, your hair slightly messy from when she was running her hands through it, and your eyes were blown out with lust and desperation for her. “Look at you, my angel…” she murmurs, running a thumb through your lower lip line. “So beautiful for me.

Her hand trails down to the front of your corset top, fingertips landing on the silk ribbon that held it all together. “Is it okay if I untie this?” she asks, holding her eye contact with you.

You nod.

“Words, angel.”

“Please, Abby…” you whisper out to her. To Abby, that response was more than enough for her to start undressing you. The ribbon from your corset begins to loosen, and you instantly feel a wave of relief wash through you. Once the ribbon was undone, Abby then uses both of her hands to loosen the rest of it, just enough to free your tits out.

A whimper escapes from your mouth once you feel Abby’s hands on your breasts, your nipples instantly hardening from her touch alone. “God…such pretty tits…” she murmurs out to you, leaning in to quickly kiss down from your neck to your tits, her mouth latching onto one of them and gently sucking while her hand is gently squeezing the other.

More whimpers and whines escape from your mouth at the contact, followed by your thighs rubbing and clenching together. Abby was quick to notice that, removing her mouth and hands from your tits as a result. She takes off her snapback and tosses it to the ground next to your halo before getting down on her knees in front of you.

Once Abby was kneeling on the ground, that’s when you decide to remove your heels, desperate to get them off of your feet. Abby notices this as well, and catches one of your heels before it fals to the ground. “Leave them on, angel.” she tells you, slipping the heel back on your foot. “You look so fucking sexy in these.”

Normally, you’d just protest about how much they were bothering you and take them off anyway. But you simply oblige to keep them on for Abby’s sake. You were willing to go through it a little longer to stay on her good side. You wanted to be good for her. You wanted to be her angel.

Her hands are now making their way up your thighs, stopping at the bottom hem of your skirt. She then bunches the tight fabric that was hugging your hips before pushing it up, allowing more space for you to spread your legs open for her. Her eyes were now met with your clothed cunt, along with a visible patch seeping out of your white thong. She soon hooks a finger underneath the fabric and shifts it to the side, revealing your wet pussy from underneath it.

The sight of your pussy alone already had her mouth watering. Your slick was glistening under the dim, incandescent light of the bathroom and your tight hole was visibly clenching around nothing, desperate to be filled.

“Fuck…” she groaned out quietly as she gently ran two of her fingers over the surface of your cunt, collecting a bit of your slick in the process. “Is this all for me, angel?” she asks, looking up at you.

“M-Mhm…” you whimpered back, nodding quickly. “It’s all for you, Abby, please…”

Abby averts her gaze back down to your pussy, watching as your slick trails itself down to the bathroom counter. She was soon quick to dive her head in and lick an experimental stripe up your pussy to collect your slick on her tongue, achieving the taste of you as she did so.

“My god, angel…you even taste just as heavenly as you look right now,” she mutters out quietly.

Abby wasn’t lying about that. From her perspective, you were truly a sight for sore eyes right now. Legs spread out for her, head thrown back in pleasure with the material of your costume bunched up around your waist and hips to show the parts of you she wanted to see the most, all while your wings remained steady on your back, surrounding your precious figure. You truly looked heavenly in her eyes, and the sounds you were making from her touch sounded just as angelic as you looked right now.

Without delaying any longer, Abby inserts two of her fingers into your pussy, The sudden movement startles you for a bit, before your cunt soon begins to relax around her fingers.

“Look at that, angel…she’s taking my fingers so well…” she murmurs to you, watching as your pussy greedily sucks her fingers further inside. “This pussy is already doing so good for me, baby…I bet you’ve been wanting this for a while now, haven’t you?”

You nod quickly once again. “G-God, yes, Abs…I need you so bad..” you whimper back to her biting your lip to keep yourself from moaning any louder.

Abby notices once again, and brings her free hand up to your bottom lip to free it from the grasp of your teeth. “There’s no need for that, angel…I need to hear those pretty sounds of yours.”

With her fingers still nestling inside your cunt, she brings her mouth to your throbbing clit, gently sucking on it as she slowly pumps her fingers in and out of you.

It didn’t take long for the speed of her fingers to increase. The faster her two fingers pounded into your pussy, the harder her lips would wrap around on your clit, taking away all of the space in between as she continued to suck on it.

As a result of her fast movements, the sounds your body was making in that bathroom were absolutely obscene. Between the wet squelching noises of your pussy and the moans and whimpers that were escaping from your mouth, Abby can’t help but feel so turned on from it, practically rubbing her own thighs together for some relief as she continued to devour your pussy.

Your orgasm quickly began to build itself up inside you, and based on the way your cunt was squeezing Abby’s fingers right now, she could tell you were getting close too.

“A-Abby…I-I think I’m gonna cum…” you whine out to her, both of your hands gripping onto the bathroom counter while your hips begin to involuntarily grind against her face.

“Let it out for me, angel…” she murmurs into your pussy, her movements still refusing to quit. “Take it out on me, baby…fuck my face until you finish, just like that…”

Your hips rut against your mouth a few more times, along with the involuntary movements of your pussy tightly clenching around her fingers and your clit pulsing in her mouth.

You instantly finish into her mouth and onto her fingers with a loud moan of her name, followed by your thighs trembling right after your climax. Thank God that the party’s music from outside was loud enough to keep anyone else from hearing what was going on inside.

Abby soon removed her mouth from your pussy while slowing the pace of her fingers, fucking you through it as you progessively recover from your orgasm. You hear a quiet groan escape from her mouth as she pulls her fingers out of you, watching as your cunt pushes out your thick white release and let it drip its way down to the counter. You watch her do the same movement from before, licking another stripe up your pussy to collect the rest of your release onto her tongue.

Once you were clean, Abby removes each of your legs off of her shoulders and pulls herself away from your pussy, wiping whatever that was smeared on her face with the back of her hand.

Abby then picks herself up off the floor and stands in between your legs to fix up your costume. Once you were all good, she helps you get off of the counter and back on your feet.

You reach over to pick up your halo off of the ground, Abby also doing the same with her snapback. “Thank you again for that, Abby…This definitely made my night.” you tell her, biting your lip again to hide back your smile.

The blonde smiles at you in response. “Of course, angel, its no problem…” she takes a quick breath before continuing. “You know…you can spend the night at my place, if you’d like..” she offers to you, nervously rubbing the back of her head as she does so.

You smile back at her and nod, your eyes beaming at her blue ones. “I would love that, actually.”

Abby then turns the knob and opens the door, revealing the chaotic atmosphere of the party once again. “Come on, let’s get out of here.” she tells you, keeping her hand back around your waist and by her side.

From that point forward, it was safe to say that the rest of that night was anything but slow for the both of you.

- a/n: i’m so sorry if this looks rushed, i really wanted to have this out by today! @ anon if you’re out there i hope you enjoyed it 🙏🏻

happy halloween y’all, stay safe for me tonight 🤍

tags 🏷️: @ourautumn86 @abbyscherry @whore4abby @zombholic @catfern

2023 © atomicami | all rights reserved. do not copy, modify, or translate any of my works.

[lizdive]

Heyy!! May i request father figure gallagher with a teenager reader who gets bullied and is stuck in a toxic friendship. For example how would he help reader out of the toxic friendship? And what would he do against the bullying?

(sorry my english sucks)

Gn or F reader n' platonic ofc

Don’t worry anon you’re english is amazing <33 To anyone who’s in a toxic friendship, please know it’s important to always think about yourself first. Cut off anyone who brings negativity in your life because you’ll find those who will bring positivity in your life one day and it’ll be worth it !! Thank you for requesting and if you’re unsatisfied tell me and I’ll redo it <33

notes 𐙚 gender-neutral reader — "you" used to refer to reader ,, reader is a teenager ,, bullying and toxic behavior from others ,, platonic relationships ,, it’s implied Gallagher only exists in the dreamscape snd reader is in both reality and dreamscape ,, idk if penacony has school ?? ,, hopefully i did this right ,, not proofread ignore typos

⭑ Taking you in as his own was probably GALLAGHER’s best choice in life. You were a good kid — at least around him — and you didn’t cause much trouble around the bar as you helped him out.

⭑ GALLAGHER wasn’t too involved in your social and school life if you have one. Do as you please as long as you get decent grades (he cared more for your health than some numbers) and be friends with whoever you want to he as long as they do you no harm. If you’re happy and content, he’s happy and content.

⭑ So when you begin to return to the bar looking a bit upset, he got worried. "Hey kid, you okay?" He’ll ask, but when you dodge the question and change the subject or tell him you’re fine he’ll get even more worried. He won’f push but he’ll be more attentive to your behavior.

⭑ GALLAGHER will notice how your confidence dims with every time you enter the bar. He’ll notice how you’re more attentive to your phone as if waiting for a specific notification and how you get even more upset when it never comes.

⭑ How you tell him you’ll be hanging out with your 'friends' only for you to show up at the bar to help out, telling him that they canceled or forgot to tell you the time or some other dumb excuse that has him irritated and annoyed with your so called 'friends'.

⭑ As states above, he isn’t too involved with your social life. However he can see how your 'friends' are just using you and discarding you and how they doesn’t even try to hide their blatant lack of care. They don’t appreciate what you do for them and do not reciprocate it.

⭑ It’s when you bring your 'friends' to hang out at the bar that he watched firsthand as they disrespect you — be it by violating your physical boundaries, making mean jokes at your expense, making you get their drinks, etc.

⭑ Whenever you try to call them out they guilt trip you and gaslight you, painting you as the one in the wrong even though you’re as innocent as an angel.

⭑ GALLAGHER will step in the second he sees their unacceptable behavior. He might be a bit petty and purposefully make their drinks wrong or bad. He’ll keep a close eye on them which will make them quiet down since he’s giving them a mean glare whenever they say something mean. However if it gets too bad that they’re hitting you as a so called 'joke' then he’ll confront them face to face.

⭑ He’ll try not to cause a scene, especially if you’re present (he’d confront them if you were somewhere else like in the restroom or smth), but if they’re being difficult he won’t hesitate to just kick them out. He has experience as a security officer.

⭑ If you get upset, he’ll try to comfort you and make you understand why he kicked them out / made them leave.

⭑ If they try to curse you out via calls or messages they won’t be able to do so. GALLAGHER will encourage you to block them and deleting their numbers from your phone. He might even do it himself.

⭑ "Their number was deleted off your phone? Huh, that’s weird," He says, knowing damn well he was the one who deleted their numbers from your phone while you were in the back room getting some ingredients.

⭑ If you’re scared because they might do something bad to you, he’ll make sure you’ll stay safe so don’t worry. He has his ways. Also if you don’t know how to fight he’ll teach you so you can defend yourself should they try to gang up on you.

⭑ They were your only friends? Hey, don’t be upset. Penacony is a big place with a huge hotel filled with so many different people that would be blessed to be your friend. You’ll find the right people, and he’ll help you if you’re not a social person!

⭑ GALLAGHER will also scare off any bullies that you tell him about.

⭑ If their words get to you and you feel insecure, GALLAGHER will be there to comfort you and reassure you that you’re handsome/beautiful/pretty/etc. just the way you are. You don’t need to change anything. Those people are just jealous of how talented you are.

⭑ The people at the bar will probably also protect and comfort you. A friend (or in this case kid) of GALLAGHER is a friend of theirs. They’ll compliment you on your looks, your personality, your skills — trust that you’re confidence will be built back up pretty quickly.

[prettyboykatsuki]

take it from me | barou shouei ft. isagi yoichi

✮ tags ; gender neutral / fem!reader + afab!reader (reader is referred to as girlfriend but uses they/them pronouns), cucking, petnames (baby, beautiful), fingering, dry-humping, breeding (mentions of getting someone pregnant and kids etc.), 18+ 

✮ wc ; 2.7k 

✮ synopsis ; barou doesn’t like anything isagi has planned for him, but he never backs down from a fight either. 

✮ a/n ; a fic a beloved anon commissioner has allowed me to post! also... if i had a nickel for every time i wrote a fic with isagi cucking someone... i'd have two nickels which isn't a lot but it's weird that it happened twice right

It’s easy to get on Barou’s nerves. 

But it’s hard to get under his skin. 

Very hard. Harder than most people actually understand, because people get a kick out of riling him up. They often get upset when he realizes and stops being mad at all. Surface level frustration is commonplace for Barou, but that skin deep stuff is hard to come by.  And whatever does get him truly angry is usually justifiable, understandable. Strangers don’t make this distinction about him but he knows it to be true. 

It’s rare, unusual - to get under his skin so fucking consistently. 

But Isagi always does. 

That shitty little egoist has a talent for bothering him with his antics. Every person who’s ever told Barou off for being egotistical doesn’t know shit about shit. They don’t know the kind of egoism Isagi bears, the kind that’s subtle until it isn’t. Until it’s in your face at your lowest, opportunistic and evil. 

He’s fine off the field. Almost innocent when they sit around together for a drink. Off the field, he blushes when he gets any advances and doesn’t carry that same energy. But Barou knows better, can’t let his guard down because when everyone is distracted it slips. Barou sees the way Isagi looks. Plans. Manipulates for what he wants. He should’ve been able to guess that Isagi’s bet on their last match was a ploy to get something he wanted. 

But Isagi knows in what way he can push Barou’s buttons. So after carefully placed insults and pushes, a bet was made. 

If Isagi’s team won their next match, he got to fuck Barou’s girlfriend. In front of him. 

Of course his first answer was fuck no. Barou’s not stupid, wasn’t planning on giving that shitty little brat an inch because Barou knew he’d take a mile. Isagi, though, got under his skin. Pushed and pushed, making digs about Barou being worried about you. Isagi knows that Barou is confident in his soccer, as much as he is in his feelings - but Barou can’t let up to that kind of push. Can’t allow Isagi to think for even a minute he can’t satisfy you. In a fit of anger, Barou says he’ll agree if you do. 

And to his surprise, you do - but you’re demure about it. Not that you need anyone but Barou, you assure, but you do want to support his confidence in himself. Sweet thing like you always are, gentle with batted lashes and a hand on his chest. 

Barou loves you, would’ve said fuck no again if you showed even the slightest bit of hesitation. Instead, you looked up at him with clear eyes and a gentle smile. 

Fine. Barou agrees to play Isagi’s shitty game. He’ll win the next match and it’ll be over.

Except, he doesn’t win.

It’s a close match, but Isagi’s team manages to get one goal in - Isagi himself striking it into the net. As soon as it’s called, only seconds before the last buzzer goes off, Isagi looks at Barou directly. Grins as he scores, smiles like Japan’s sweetheart when everything is over. 

Barou wouldn’t go as far as describing his feelings as dread. Dread implies that he’s lacking confidence. It’s more like he was pissed. Pissed that Isagi got his way, pissed that the match was so fucking close, pissed as he was relaying the news to you on the way home. A nightmare of a situation - ultimately. 

But Barou is a man of his word. 

And as man of his word, Barou puts you three in a groupchat with Isagi. There’s some hoopla about getting to know each other. Barou can appreciate Isagi’s efforts to make you comfortable, despite knowing it’s bare minimum. There’s something real about his approach, his desire. Isagi wants to fuck you as you, as much as he does because you’re Barou’s girlfriend. He just wants you, and Barou isn’t entirely sure what to make of that. 

He isn’t sure if that makes his fuck-up worse or better. But he’s here now, and there’s nothing he can do. 

He doesn’t really know what to do with his hands. He’s supposed to just watch, and he has some qualms about jacking off while you’re being fucked by someone else. It’s weirder to be in his position though, to just sit and look on as Isagi lays hands on you. 

Barou loathes knowing Isagi’s preferences, loathes even more that they have similar tastes. You’re wearing white lace and thin straps and mascara that isn’t waterproof per request. You're beautiful in a way that Barou knows to be normal for you, but still feels impressed by. 

And Isagi is there. 

While Barou is looking at you, eyes fixated on your silhouette - your expression is turned to Isagi. Bright eyes, fluttery lashes, lips that are parted and pouty. Your hands are clamped up at your sides, thighs trembling. You’re nervous, it’s written all over your face. Isagi is hovering over you - speaking in quiet whispers until you smile or laugh. He gets you comfortable with the way he talks, much faster than Barou could’ve in a situation like this. He’s a people person, notably. Barou can’t hear what Isagi is telling you so secretively. 

But it must have something to do with him, given the way you glance over at him and Isagi turns your face gently back his way. He’s not a participant here, not playing on the field. He’s a fly on the wall, a watcher - a passive one, and he isn’t sure if it’s too early or not to be pissed. 

“Shouei,” You whisper despite Isagi’s efforts to make you forget him. Barou stills “It'll be okay.” 

Barou breathes out at you, softening his features. Isagi’s touch on your body doesn’t make him lunge out of his seat this time. 

Isagi kisses you when Barou is looking. From where he’s sitting, he can see it clearly. You crane your neck up like you usually do when you kiss, and Isagi has a hand around the side of your face. He doesn’t know what to think, what to feel - so he focuses on you. 

Your lips part, and Isagi puts his tongue in your mouth. Puts his tongue in and nips, laps at the gloss of your mouth until you give in. Your hands clasp around the end of Isagi’s shirt, a flash of innocence. 

It’s an explicit way to kiss, lewd. Suggestive. Barou thinks this is intentional. He can’t wrap his head around why Isagi would want to fuck you dirty other than his own preferences. But there’s more to it. So much more underneath the surface of his desire that makes Barou want to get up and punch his lights out. 

But he doesn’t. He keeps his hands tucked at his side, and watches as you squirm. There’s something dirty about the desperation in your every gesture. Isagi keeps kissing you as he slowly undoes you. 

He starts with kissing your jaw after thoroughly making your head blank. Isagi lets his lips trail over the corner of your mouth, the angle of your jaw, the space where your shoulder meets your neck. There’s no romance laced in it, only lust. Your face twists with each bite and his hands make quick work out of touching you in every place other than where you need. He breaks you apart in careful, calculated moves. Exploits all your sensitivities. His hands squeeze the softness of your chest, groaning at the way it feels in between his fingers. 

He teases your nipples, flicking and rubbing them until you’re wiggling away from the feeling. He licks and bites at the tender flesh, sucking harsh enough to make a wet sound. 

Barou busies himself with counting all the differences, and measures his own touch up to it. How different it is. The way Isagi is touching you lacks delicacy, finesse. 

There are a few moments where you pause, glancing at him to say something. But when Isagi touches you, you can’t get the words out. His groping isn’t very romantic. 

But you like it, don’t you? You do.  It’s in your face. In your blissed out eyes, and the subtle flutters of your tummy and the legs wrapped around Isagi’s waist when he humps you. Ruts the hard shape of his cock against your clothed, wet cunt and makes you whimper like you’ve been hit. He’s groping you like he’s only known sex from dirty magazines or porn on DVD, but you like it. You’re so engrossed in the feeling that every word you have for him dies in your mouth, gets washed away by your desire. 

Isagi makes a show out of humping you, once you both get into it. The two of you break apart only briefly. He peels his shirt back as he sits up on his knees, pulls his pants down enough to just be in his boxers. He lets his hard cock rest against your pussy, still in his boxers. Gripping your thighs, he thrusts - slow and deliberate until the tip pushes into your swollen clit. You cry out, your hands still fisted and trembling around your size. Isagi narrates this time, loud enough for Barou to hear. The sound of his voice grates on Barou’s nerves. 

“You’re so fucking wet,” He punctuates, laughing - harshly at that “Do you like when I’m a little mean?” 

Your hands curl, and you clam up - but Isagi doesn’t let you shy away. Instead he keeps thrusting his hips over and over, gripping your jaw to make you look up at him. Your eyes are blown so wide, wetness pooling at your lashes as the sensation drives you over. Barou would’ve touched you by now, but Isagi does not. 

“That brute is a gentleman to you, huh. I’m a little surprised.”  Isagi says conversationally, making Barou’s whole body tense. “But you look like you need to be fucked a little mean. I almost want to make you cry.” 

Barou goes to interject, he wants too - but you moan. And Isagi laughs at you again. 

“Is that what you want? Hm? Want me to fuck you?” 

“Hngh, please.” Your voice nearly breaks as you whimper “Wan’ you to fuck me.” 

Shit. Barou is hard. 

Isagi grins “That’s what I like to hear,” 

Isagi moves, pulling himself away from you. He lifts your legs to take your panties off, and tosses them somewhere carelessly before sitting back. He spreads your legs, coating his middle fingers with saliva before positioning himself. 

He hovers over as he lets his fingers dip down to your cunt, brushing over your swollen clit. He ignores your cry out from neglect. You wrap your arms around his neck as he keeps himself upright with free hand, kissing you softly as he starts to finger you. He doesn’t give you room to breathe, doesn’t let you pull away as his fingers start to stretch you open. You mewl at his ministrations, paw at him and kiss him desperately. There’s such a whiny quality to your moaning, one that Barou has only ever heard in bits and pieces before this.  

He watches as one finger scissors you open then another. You take it well, don’t complain even Isagi takes his sweet time pressing up against your soft spot. Once you’re all stretched and light headed, he kisses the corner of your mouth. 

“Now you’re ready for me,” Isagi mumbles, looking you over “Gonna fuck you nice and full, yeah? Wanna let him see you?” 

Dazed, you nod. Barou goes to ask what he fucking means by that, but the words never make it out. He watches instead, as Isagi maneuvers you to roll onto your side. 

While Isagi comes to lay behind you. The angle you’re at gives Barou a perfect front view of your body, down the smallest details. He can see the traces of saliva left on your skin, the soft indents of marks. Everything stops, his breath hitching as he gets an eye full of your face. Sheer bliss on your features, shining with a sheen of sweat. Your eyes are glossed over, glassy. 

Before Barou can think at all, he finds a hand at his waist - rubbing his cock through the fabric of his pants. Isagi’s arm circles around your middle as his chin rests on your shoulder. You pick your leg up to give him easier access to you. 

Barou watches intently as Isagi’s cock pushes against your entrance. Your tight hole stretches around the swollen tip as your voice starts to tremble. Isagi curses behind you, quiet as he eases himself inside. He fills you up deliberately, inch by inch pushing into your hot cunt until he’s all the way bottomed out. Your eyes are nearly rolled back into your head from bliss, mouth agape and drooling. Isagi lets his hand travel down to your clit, his middle finger rubbing soft circles into the bundle of nerves. He bottoms out with a deep sigh. 

“Fuck, that feels so good,” Isagi groans, pulling out before pushing in again in one thrust “Makes me wanna cum in you so bad, fuck.” 

Barou can see how much the words affect you. Isagi must feel it. 

“Shit, you want that, huh?” He laughs, breathless and entertained by your desire. He fucks up into you now, starts his pace off slow - the sound of your pussy filling up the room “Want me to cum in you instead of pull out? Give you a baby?”

You gasp, shudder at the prospect. Isagi is fucking you raw, where Barou is almost always using condoms. He should be pissed beyond what he thought possible, and some part of him is. But another part of him, even quieter, is fixated on the pure pleasure you’re getting out of it. Out of being fucked raw by someone who’s basically a stranger. 

Isagi, ever the egoist, sees the opportunity and runs with it. He fucks into you harder, gives it to you deeper with a vicious smile. 

“I’ll knock you up, beautiful. Want it so bad, of course I’ll fuck it right into you,” Isagi croons, his voice edging on sadistic but mostly saccharine sweet “Hear that, Barou? Aren’t you lucky, ‘m giving your girlfriend a winner's baby. Maybe you could teach ‘em to play soccer.” 

Barou feels his own irritation bubble into his throat - but he can’t be fully angry when you look the way you do. When your whole body tenses and trembles every time Isagi thrusts his cock into you, like you’re practically begging for him to breed you full. No matter what Isagi does, it’s not like Barou could ever be agitated with you, and god - you look like you feel good. 

Your voice is choked out as Barou watches you get tipped over the edge. He feels his own cock twitch from neglect, but refuses to let himself go any further. Despite how painful it is to not touch himself. You reach for the sheets as your eyes go wide, fluttering back into your skull. 

“Gonna cum, Isagi, Isagi” Your voice is hoarse and trembling “S-somethin’ gonna come out.” 

Isagi keeps pace, fucking you how you need. 

“Let’s cum together, yeah? Cum with me so your pussy can swallow up all of it, make sure you’re bred nice and full.” 

You nod dumbly and hold it in despite yourself, and Barou watches you as you make a mess. Watches all of your arousal drip and stain the sheets as Isagi fucks you, how you’re so wet you nearly push him out. You bite your lip and take his cock like it’s nothing, his grip on your waist nearly bruising. Your shoulders sag with relief as he finally gets close. 

“Shit, I’m gonna cum,” He warns, then a little softer “Let’s cum together? Cum with beautiful.” 

Barou watches you as you. You cum and you cum hard, hard enough that your eyes squeeze shut and your whole body tightens before breaking out into trembles. You’re convulsing as you pull away from his cock, a wet rush spilling as you finish. Isagi groans as you squirt all over him and the sheets, the mess of his seed mixing as you lay down. 

You nearly collapse into the bed beneath you, trembling as Isagi kisses your shoulder. Then for the first time, he looks over to acknowledge him. 

“It’d be rude to give them just one right?” Isagi says, giving Barou a cocky glance “Don’t hold it in so much.” 

“Fuck you,” Barou curses, groaning. 

It’s gonna be a long, long night. 

[nikethestatue]

A Match Baked In Heaven

Well, here we are--at the end of the road (though there will be a sizeable Epilogue coming up in the future).

But I want to thank everyone who stuck with me since October 2023, when I first got the bizarre idea to write a story about a London Matchmaker and an Arsenal footballer. I hope you all enjoyed the journey and I hope that the conclusion is satisfying.

TW: EXPLICIT (there is a long sex scene in this one)

Also, it's a long chapter.

Please let me know, Anon or not, what you thought of what came to be known as 'Matchy'.

Thanks again!

-

Chapter XVIII

I Got Mine

“Fine. It’s all a lie.”

Elain sighed and hung her head dejectedly.

She was tired. So very tired. She rubbed at her throat, which was aching from all the rough treatment that Azriel inflicted on her neck. He’s been unusually rough today. He wasn’t very gentle to begin with, his grip on her typically tight and firm. But today, he was almost vicious. 

“You happy now?” she walked to the door. “You’ve lied. And I believed you. I am a stupid naive woman who fell for a playboy’s lies. Tale as old as time,” she shrugged.

She fiddled with the handle, not realising that he’d locked the door with a key.

“This was a mistake,” she said with some finality in her voice.

“Is that what you think?” Azriel asked in turn. “That we were a mistake?”

“Seems kind of obvious now,” she pointed out to him. 

“I don’t think so,” he argued. “Actually, I don’t think so at all.”

“Please open the door,” she begged him, with tears in her eyes.

“No.”

“Azriel,” she hissed. “I am tired. I want to go home. I want to take Piglet and I want to go home. Open the damn door right now!”

“Or what?” he was curious, “You’ll start screaming?”

“If I have to.”

She turned to face him and said clearly, “Listen, all I want is my fee and I will be out of your hair and you can live happily ever after.”

He seemed to think about her words, and then crossed his arms and said, “Hmmm. That's going to be a problem.”

“What will?”

“The fee,” he explained calmly. 

“Why is that?” she hissed with indignation.

“Because you are fired.”

He said it in a bland tone, like it didn’t mean anything. If she wasn’t listening closely, she probably would’ve missed his words. But she heard him, and her eyes popped wildly.

How dare he?

Fired?

FIRED?

He was firing her?

“You can’t possibly!” she cried. “You wouldn’t dare!”

“Oh, I would. And I am,” he assured her dryly.

Fuming, she exclaimed, “why?! What did I do? How could you?!”

“Your services were lacking,” he shrugged callously.

Elain’s hand flew to her neck, and she glowered at him in utter shock, her breaths jerky and short. Say what he will, but she was good. She was excellent at her job. Her services never ‘lacked’ anything. Even with him and their complicated relationship, she still fulfilled the terms of their contract and introduced him to viable matches. Not only that but he was getting married! To one of the matches. And now he was claiming that she didn’t do a good job and that she was lacking.

“My services do not lack anything, sir!” she snarled at him angrily. 

The corner of his mouth lifted in a tiny smirk. 

“Sir?” he repeated. “I like it.”

She didn’t even understand what he was referring to for a moment, but then it dawned on her and she just about growled in her throat. All he ever thought of was sex! Or something juvenile or utterly daft.

“You want to call me ‘daddy’, baby?” he offered, smiling that nasty smile. “Oh, wait, you already do! In fact, you called me that today.”

“No I didn’t!”

“Oh yes you did. When you told that fat mongrel to stop biting me,” he reminded her.

“My dog isn't a mongrel! He is purebred,”

Azriel scoffed and asked, “what are the breeds? Pug, asshole and psycho?”

“Shut up,” she snapped. “I now wish I didn’t pull him off of you.”

“And what? Have him bite my dick off?” he mused.

“I don’t care! It’s of no use to me,” she waved her hand dismissively. 

“Are you sure, sweetness?” he snorted a laugh. “Might as well use it to get yourself off a few times.”

She gasped and reddened adorably.

“Or,” he continued, but she begged him, 

“Please stop talking!”

“Remember when I walked in on you?” his voice lost its sharpness and his expression seemed to soften a smidge. Though Elain had no idea what he was referring to and what he’d walked on. 

“You remember,” he pressed, stepping closer to her.

“No, I have no idea.”

“When I walked in on you,” he repeated. “And you had my sweatshirt rolled up into a ball, and you tucked it under your dress,”

She blushed violently, remembering it. Oh god. Why now? What was he bringing this up now?

He was so close to her now, and then his hand was on her face, cupping her cheek, the scars so familiar and so beautiful, that she wanted to cry again. She wanted to bury her face in his hands and have that rough, scarred skin scrape over her cheeks, over her eyes…She wanted his fingers touching her lips, the way he always enjoyed it. 

“You stood in front of the mirror,” he whispered, his chin landing on her head, and his arms wrapping around her. “And you didn’t know that I was there, watching you. You were looking at yourself, with a big round belly under your dress, thinking how you would look with my baby inside of you.”

“I…i,” she attempted to argue, but there was no reason. It did happen. She’d imagined it. Many times. What she’d look like pregnant, what it would feel like to have his baby inside of her, what their family would look like.

She couldn’t stifle a sob, which ripped out from her throat. It was a loud, choking, dry heave–a cry for the future she’d never have.

His hand migrated to her head, and he stroked her gently, his chin still resting atop the satin band. He was huge, his body even bigger and more muscular than she’d remembered. 

“Shhh,” he cooed quietly. “Don’t cry, lassie.”

That only made Elain sob harder. When he called her ‘lassie’, she could barely function on a good day. Today wasn’t a good day. 

“I have to fire you, sweetheart,” he told her again, calmly, almost soothingly.

“What are you talking about?” she sniffled, still perplexed by what he was trying to convey with this. She pulled away from his chest and looked up at him through her tears.

“The problem is,” he explained, as he moved his hand back to her face, and stroked his knuckles over her cheeks, “is that you are very unprofessional,”

Elain sucked in a breath and readied herself for an argument, but he didn’t pay her any heed and just continued talking, 

“Because you made your client fall madly, irreversibly in love with you. And he adores you insatiably. Every longing he’s ever had is just his desire to possess you with every word and every action. You’ve consumed every thought in his head. You quieted the demons inside of him. You made him like himself more than he ever thought possible.”

Elain blinked rapidly, staring at him with incomprehension. She wasn’t sure what he was saying exactly, but it sounded an awful like a love confession. 

“So you understand why I must fire you,” he pressed his lips to her forehead.

“Nooo,” she whimpered.

“Conflict of interest, my love,” Azriel smiled at her. “You are my conflict. My conundrum.”

“But…” she reached up and squeezed his neck. “Azriel. What are you saying?”

He sighed. 

At that moment, someone banged on the doors, rapping on it impatiently and they heard an unfamiliar voice, saying, “Mr. Night. This is highly irregular. The ceremony is to be held in 30 minutes. Mr. Night…”

Azriel tilted Elain’s head the way he wanted to, ignoring the irate attendant. 

“You can’t hate me for this,” he said firmly. There was something mischievous in his gaze, but also devious and unrepentant. Elain gulped down on some air, frightened of what was about to come out of his mouth.

“Or Feyre,” he added.

At the mention of her sister, she shuddered visibly. She didn’t expect him to bring her up. Whatever this was, it was bad. She couldn’t even begin to imagine what he was referring to.

“What did you do?” she asked, her voice trembling. Despite the general heaviness of her elaborate dress, she was shivering against Azriel’s broad chest, her palms cold and sweaty at the same time.

“You want to sit down?” he offered thoughtfully, gently rubbing her bare arms up and down, warming her up.

“What did you do?” she repeated.

“Lied to you.”

There was a beat of silence between the two of them, which stretched into an uncomfortably long pause.

At last, Elain managed a tiny, “how?”

She felt small and wounded, like a hunted animal under the scrutiny of his gaze. 

“I needed to make you suffer,” he said cruelly. 

“Why?”

“So I’d know that you loved me,” he squeezed her chin almost painfully in his hand. His eyes bore into hers, and his mouth turned into a straight, angry line. “So you would know what it’s like to be without me. So you’d feel it. The way I felt it. I don’t think that you knew that this was real until you’d lost me.”

“What the hell are you saying?” she pushed at him, but he held her steady, squeezing her arms and her face in his huge hands. “I always knew that this was real!”

“Yeah…no, I don’t think so. Like I said, Elain, you needed to be humbled,” he reminded her with that same cruel glint in his eyes, “you needed to understand that I was your man. You needed to cry and you needed to beg for forgiveness, knowing that you’d lost me.”

“I am not going to beg you!” she shoved at him, cheeks red. “Not for anything!”

“Oh, you will,” he assured her. “Because I hold your happiness in my hands.”

“So hooking up with Gwyn was your way of making me beg?” she huffed a hysterical laugh.

He released her so suddenly, she almost fell. 

“No.”

“No, what?”

“No, I lied about that,” he announced blandly. 

Her brow furrowed and she stared at him, fearful, annoyed, and hopelessly hopeful. What she was hoping for, she wasn’t even sure.

“You lied about…” she began saying, but was interrupted by his vigorous nodding.

“Told you, you were threepence short of a shilling,” he scoffed. 

“Stop insulting me!” she yelled.

“Then stop being daft!” he yelled back.

Composing himself instantly, he let go of her and circled the room, looking agitated. She was still waiting for more–for an actual explanation of what he meant when he said that he’d lied. Frankly, right this moment, she didn’t care about the logistics or complete comprehension of what had occurred. She just stood in the middle of the room, trembling. 

“You…you aren’t with her?” she whispered pathetically. “You aren’t with Gwyn? You broke up?”

He ceased his pacing and looked out the window.

It was a lovely, sunny day outside. The birds were loud–he could hear them even from here, and the greenery outside was pregnant with life. It was bursting and flowering, blackthorn trees were already heavy with pink and white flowers, and cherry plums began blooming as well. It was unusually beautiful for this early in the spring. 

“I was never with her.”

Elain’s head snapped towards him and she stared intently, looking for any sign of dishonesty.

“What do you mean?” she whispered brokenly.

“You know what I mean,” he turned to look at her. “You know exactly what I mean. I am firing you because I am in love with you. And it would be a conflict of interest to continue to employ you. I’ve never loved anyone but you,” he added quietly. “Only you.”

“So,” she was shaking so violently, she grabbed the back of the chair, to hold herself upright. “This…this whole thing? What is this…what of Gwyn?” 

A look of complete bewilderment flickered over her flushed face.

“Like I said, a ruse,” Azriel didn’t look at her, as he inspected her forearm, carefully pulling the drying paper towel off. “I asked Gwyn to play along and she is a romantic at heart, apparently,”

Elain wiped her face, feeling faint. 

“Don’t worry,” he glanced at her, though he sounded frighteningly rational. “I know it’s fucked up. But you wouldn’t fucking listen. So drastic measures needed to be employed,”

“You are grotesque,” she moaned, staring at him in horror.

“I’d call it ‘crafty’,” he argued. “I find solutions, you see. I always win. I wanted you, and I was going to have you by any means possible.”

“You…you…” she choked out, “you will not have me!”

“No, I will,” he assured her.

“You did all this,” she made a wide swipe with her hand. “You…what…” she was feeling so out of sorts, so discombobulated that she was actually afraid that she was either losing her mind or experiencing some kind of an episode. She scrambled to recall stroke symptoms–was that numbness in her left arm? Was her face drooping? Could she still speak and make sense? Because if she thought about this objectively, nothing made sense. 

“Are you alright?” he asked, his tone concerned, as he noted her confusion, and her sweaty pallor. “Do you want some water?” 

The good thing was that the antechamber had been set up with champagne, water, whiskey, truffles, and biscuits. Azriel poured her some water and came to where she was standing.

“Sit down, sweetness,” she urged her gently, wrapping his arm around her waist and carefully pushing her down on the chair. She all but collapsed, without even arguing, and sat on the chair, while he brought the glass to her lips and held the back of her head, so she could drink.

“Drink,” he cooed, stroking her head. “That’s my girl.” 

He put his palm on her abdomen and whispered, “breathe, Ellie. I know it’s a lot to take in.”

“Azriel,” she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, not even caring what that looked like, “you need to be honest with me now. Are you marrying Gwyn?”

“No,” he answered, shaking his head. “No, I am not. I am hoping to marry you, actually.”

“Then what is all this?” she insisted, looking around. She was very well familiar with this venue–it was popular with well-off brides, who could afford the exorbitant prices. Lots of celebrities were married here as well–Judy Garland, Patsy Kensit and Jim Kerr, Prince Pavlos of Greece, Irving Penn and Lisa Fonssagrives, Wallis Simpson, Patrick Vieira, Marco Pierre White and others. This venue required deposits and arrangements and advance notices. This was not a walk-in. 

He went to the refreshments table, poured himself a whiskey, pulled up a chair and sat facing her. 

“Listen,” he said, taking her hand in his. “I was really pissed at you, especially after that day at the Ivy.”

She tried to remember, but came up empty handed. What happened at the Ivy?

Azriel didn’t expand on it though. He continued, ignoring her confusion.

“It was a combination of bad advice and my own personal anger. And frankly, I am still pissed at you, but whatever. I am over it. I got your sister to help me,” he said, and it dawned on Elain that he meant Feyre.

“What did she do?”

“Well, I couldn’t go to Nesta because she’d rip my cock off and I am fond of the thing,” he confessed. “Though it’s withering and dying as we speak, due to disuse,” he sighed dramatically and Elain couldn’t help but chuckle. “You don’t understand,” he pressed, “I’ve not been inside a pussy since early September. We are in March now.”

“Oh!” she scowled, “however are you surviving?!! Poor lad,”

“I am! I am a fucking poor lad!” he agreed vehemently. 

“What did you rope my sister into?” she asked instead, taking his tumbler and throwing back the rest of his whiskey. He snorted a laugh at her, his brow raised in amusement.

“Got her to find an appropriate venue–this was her choice, but I think she did well,” he said, looking around. “And then of course, she designed the invitation,” he told her sheepishly. 

Elain’s mouth popped open.

The invitation.

Mr. Azriel Singer-Night and Miss Gwyneth Berdara request the pleasure of your company at their nuptials…

“Jesus Christ,” Elain moaned softly.

“Okay, before you freak out,” he said quickly, but she cut him off,

“Before? BEFORE I freak out? I am freaking out, Azriel. I am so past freaking out, you have no idea!”

“Okay, I understand,” he nodded, caressing her arm soothingly, like it made it okay. “But don’t blame her. I bribed her,”

“With what?!!”

He winced and said quietly,

“Unlimited hugs from Pink?” rubbing the back of his neck, he added quickly, “so you’ll need to sort that out with him, because I can’t. I would–I absolutely would–but he hates me. So I am not sure he’ll listen. So you should probably get on that sharpish.”

“So you are bribing my sister with my dog to create a fake invite to your fake wedding with another woman? And I have to be the one to make good on your promise?” 

He considered it and then acknowledged, “Well, when you say it like that, it doesn’t sound good.”

“It doesn’t sound good,” she concurred.

She couldn’t even comprehend the depth of his deception. It was truly unhinged. Diabolical.

And yet…

To go to these lengths was truly inexplicable behaviour, unless Azriel was genuinely…in love. 

“But,” he continued, “on the other hand–,”

“There is more?” she groaned, needing more whiskey. Sharpish.

“I planned a wedding for us,” he said, trying to look innocent. 

She let out a hysterical laugh. 

“You actually think that I would marry you after all this?”

Azriel opened his mouth, but there was a forceful knock on the door and they heard Rhysand’s voice,

“I brought your trousers and a new jacket.”

“How long is this going to take?” Nesta echoed. “If it takes you over 45 minutes to convince someone to marry you, then maybe they are not that into you,” she shouted. “And you should take the hint! She can do much better than you!”

Azriel winced and murmured, “fuck she is brutal”.

Elain took the interruption as an opportunity–she jumped from her chair and rushed to the door, hissing at Azriel “open it!”

He sighed, but did not argue and walked to open the door.

Nesta was standing there with a sneer on her face, arms crossed on her chest.

“You knew too?!” Elain cried out, not believing that her sister would do this to her.

Nesta rolled her eyes slightly,

“I didn’t. But I guessed,”

“How?” Explain!” Elain exclaimed. “How did you know?”

“Know what?” Cassian piped in, looking a tad lost in this conversation.

Rhys meanwhile wrinkled his nose, looking at Azriel’s paper-toweled arms, and his torn trousers, ordering him, “You need to change.”

Fenris and Feyre were minding the snarling Piglet, and Feyre had the good sense to look guilty and avoid Elain’s blazing glare.

“Is there always this much drama with these families?” Fenris wondered out loud, smirking at the ridiculousness of the situation. 

“How did you know?” Elain insisted, while Azriel wrapped his fingers over her upper arm and held her close to him.

Nesta pursed her lips, giving him an unamused look and then said, “I didn’t believe that he left you. Not for a second. He loves you too much. Always have.”

Elain stared at her sister, eyes wide, expression shuttered. 

“Told you,” Azriel breathed into her ear. 

“Leave me alone!” she tried to wrestle her arm out of his hold, but to no avail. 

Rhys handed Azriel a garment bag, saying, “if we could make this happen some time today, it would be wonderful.”

“You knew it too?” Elain asked accusingly.

Rhys shrugged innocently.

“I am married to Feyre darling, you know. It certainly didn’t take an hour to convince her to marry me, did it, Fey?”

Elain pointed her finger at her sister, and growled at her, “I will have a very serious talk with you later.”

Cassian stepped forth, looking puzzled.

“Wait. You aren’t marrying Gwyn?” he confirmed.

Nesta groaned.

Azriel said ‘no’.

Cassian exhaled loudly and exclaimed, “oh thank God! But are you marrying Elain? I am so confused.”

“Clearly,” Nesta sniped under her breath.

“He is not marrying me!!” Elain howled desperately. “He made his bed and,”

“You’ll be in it,” Azriel told her with mad confidence.

“Ha! Dream on. Never. You are a liar! And a cheat. And a manipulator.”

Azriel’s facial expression did not change, though his eyes turned colder and lines bracketed his mouth. His huge hand squeezed the back of her neck and he pulled her roughly to him.

“Apparently,” he gritted out, “we have more to discuss.”

All the other men straightened and made themselves known, watching how he rough handled her, but before anyone could say anything, he half-dragged her back into the room and slammed the door closed. 

“Ow,” Elain attempted to twist out of his hold, but he gripped her tightly and even as she tried to unlatch his hand from her neck, he just held her, though he did not squeeze.

“Clearly, we are not on the same page yet,” he grunted with displeasure. “And you, beautiful, seem to not understand your position,”

“My position?!?! What is my position?! Let go!” she attempted to slap his hands away, but wasn’t successful.

“No. Your position is to understand that this is happening.”

“Nothing is happening. You didn’t even ask for forgiveness!”

“And I won’t,” he warned her. “Don’t expect it.”

He finally released his brutal hold on her arms and she noticed faint purple marks on her skin. Wonderful…

“I know what you want from me,” he said with a sigh.

“And what do I want from you?” she asked, her voice shaking, adrenaline pumping through her and making her feel like she was on drugs. She’d done a couple of lines of cocaine in uni. This felt even worse. 

He scowled and explained, “You want me to tell you that I will be okay. That time will pass and I will grow comfortable being without you. You want me to tell you that I wouldn’t need you like I do right now. That I wouldn’t want you. You want me to tell you that time heals all wounds and that I would move on.”

She was blinking at him, watching his beautiful, devastated face, and how he was shaking his head.

“But the truth is, beautiful,” he gnawed on the inside of his cheek, still shaking his head, as if imagining what that would look like for him–the reality of her not being there. “The truth is that, no, it won’t be okay. Because frankly, I love you too much. And I know that I am a fuck up who probably fucked up any and all chances of actually being with you. Now I see how stupid it was, but I can’t go back and change it. It is what it is. But you need to understand that I wouldn't be okay at all. Because you, Elain, well, you are my endgame. My soulmate. Really the only possible ‘happily ever after’ that there is for me. I am not an easy man to love. I am dick to everyone, or almost everyone. A real twat. And not a simple option for any woman to like, let alone love. Birds have been throwing themselves at me for a decade and I think that screwed things up for me in my head. Not an excuse, I know, but I also know that from the moment I saw you–and I saw your legs first, without even seeing your face–I somehow knew this was it. No more birds for me after I’ve met you. Haven’t even thought of anyone. Haven’t paid attention to a female. When I saw you, I knew that I was going to become a nutter for you and my world would begin and end with you. And to this day, I am absolutely convinced that you are entirely too good for me. I am punching so above my weight I can’t even wrap my mind around it. But you are my person. My only fucking love. The only love I want,” he sounded exhausted and absolutely defeated, as he wiped his eyes and his forehead. “And no, I will not be okay without you, Elain.”

“But you lied to me, and you manipulated me,” she began whispering, “and,”

“And I’d fucking do it again,” he told her, his tone stern, his voice rough. “You want me to beg and grovel? Is that what you want?” he shrugged. “Sure, I’ll do it! If it makes you feel better, I’ll do it. But it’s a waste of time,”

“Why?!” she exclaimed, “are you not sorry for putting me through this?!”

“I’ve put myself through worse,” he argued. “And no, I am not fucking sorry. And yeah, I’ll grovel if that will make you happy, but don’t expect any kind of bullshit of us ‘taking it slow,” he made quotation marks with his fingers, “or me giving you ‘time to decide’ or get ‘in touch with your feelings’, none of that shite,”

“Excuse me?!” she cried out incredulously. 

He stepped closer to her and before she could pull away, he cupped her face between his hands.

“What it means, beautiful,” he said severely, his face grim and intense, “is that the only way you are leaving this building today is as my wife.”

She attempted to step back and get out of his hold, but he squeezed her cheeks tighter and pressed on, “You are marrying me today, Elain.”

“You are insane! I am not,” she screeched, but he shook his head in a firm NO.

“Yes you are. You are becoming Mrs. Night. Today. I am done playing fucking games with you.”

“I am not marrying you!”

“Yes, you are,” he insisted. “And if you aren’t, then it’s me kidnapping you and keeping you in a cage. Like, your choice, baby.” He shrugged nonchalantly. 

“You are completely insane!” she gasped.

“Maybe. But I also love you more than life. Love you more than anything. Yeah, call me obsessed, unhinged, deranged–I’ll accept it. Because I am all those things. Because of you and how I feel about you. And I am sorry, Elain, but I love you selfishly. I love you too much to let you go. So I am not,”

“And if I say ‘no’?” she demanded.

“It would be better if you said yes,” he suggested. “Because then I’d have to do something drastic, and I don’t want to. But I will steal you,” he warned. “I don’t care what it makes me and I don’t care if you think that I am an obsessed freak.”

“You are!”

“So I am.”

Suddenly, he dropped down in front of her to his knees and wrapped his heavy, strong arms around her thighs, burying his face in her belly. She stood still, her arms hanging awkwardly at her sides, a desperate need to touch him and comfort him clawing at her. Unable to help herself, she threaded her fingers through his thick black hair and whispered, “what do you want, Azriel?”

He didn’t answer right away. Just kneeled in front of her, and held her, inhaling the scent of her, his palms gently stroking her bottom. 

“You,” he said at last. “Only you. I only want one thing, Elain. And it’s you.”

She didn’t know what to say, so she didn’t say anything. But then, Azriel looked up at her and asked the same question, “What about you? What do you want?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted.

“I do.”

“Of course you do,” she rolled her eyes at his confidence.

“You want the same thing you’ve wanted for a long time now–me. Deny it or not, it won’t make a difference. We both know that it’s true. You want to be married to me.”

She choked and attempted to say something, but the next moment he shocked her by pulling out a small box and shifting to one knee.

“Always wanted to do this, never thought I’d get the chance,” he muttered under his breath. “Okay, here it goes,” he looked up at her and asked, “marry me, beautiful. Today. Right now. And I promise to be the best husband to you. I will love you and I will be loyal. I’ll respect you. I’ll take care of you. You’ll never want for anything in your life. I’ll make you laugh. I’ll save you, if you need saving. I’ll pick up Pinky’s turds. I’ll participate in all your high society crap with you. I’ll dedicate every goal to you. I’ll fuck all your holes and you’ll love it,”

“Jesus Christ,” Elain gasped, her whole body shaking. 

“I’ll get you pregnant and I’ll be a good father to our children. I’ll cook and I’ll wash dishes…No, we have a dishwasher, so that’s a moot point.”

She couldn’t help but snort a laugh.

“Same for laundry. Also, we can just hire maids and housekeepers because we’re rich. I am not paying you your fee,” he warned. “Your services leave much to be desired, frankly. But the 230 mil–you get that, along with me, because you’ll be my wife. And we are together for life. Maybe we’ll take some longevity shots and live forever! These are my terms. I suggest you accept them.”

Elain scrubbed her face and muttered, 

“This is the worst proposal ever.”

“No it’s not!” he exclaimed, scandalised. 

“It is. It actually included the words ‘fuck all your holes’ and ‘turds’.”

“Practical things,” he shrugged, opening up the little box. Inside, Elain found a lovely ring–not ostentatious or enormous–but a gorgeous pale pink oval diamond set in a flower-like setting. There were little emeralds surrounding it, resembling leaves and tiny pearls for flower buds. 

It was a perfect ring.

Of course.

But then, Azriel knew her. Knew how she was and what she liked and what she wanted. He always knew, without her even telling him.

“The only acceptable answer, Ellie, is a ‘yes’,” he reminded her. 

She bit her lips, looking at him, at the ring, her mind scrambling. 

Finally she asked, “you’ll be honest and true with me, always?”

“Yes,” he nodded.

“And you love me like you say you do?”

“I do. Even more than that.”

She traced his cheekbone with her finger and whispered,

“I love you too. I love you so much that even if parts of me tell me to say ‘no’, I cannot. “

“Your heart won’t allow you to say no to me,” he told her confidently. “It knows you better than your brain does.”

He waited for her and she murmured, “I am scared.”

“Don’t be.”

“Will it be okay? Will we make it?”

“We’ll make it, baby. We were written in the stars a long time ago. Also, I asked your father for your hand as well,”

She gasped, “you did?”

“Of course. I am not a neanderthal.”

That was questionable, but okay.

“Asked him a long time ago,”

“What’s a ‘long time ago’?” she wondered. “We’ve only known each other for a little bit of time.”

Azriel sighed and admitted, “I asked him over Christmas.” 

Elain stuttered. Christmas??

“You asked him and then you broke up with me?!” she cried.

“I never broke up with you,” he corrected her. “I gave you ‘time’,” he scoffed at that. “Something you kept saying you need. So you had your ‘time’ and you were miserable. And now, I am not giving you any more time. By the way, your father gave me his permission to ask you. He told me that I am an ‘unorthodox choice’ for you, but a good choice nevertheless.”

He took her hand and brought it to his lips.

“So tell me?” he asked, “what’s your answer?”

Elain swallowed hard.

What was her answer?

“Yes,” she said clearly. 

Because there was only one answer for them. 

Elain Archeron loved Azriel Night. 

Loved him from the first time he showed up in her office, full of swagger and contempt. She loved him when he was rude to her. She loved him when he was kind. She loved him when he told her the names of the children he was going to have. The children that she’d give him. She loved him because he was loyal and true and good and no matter what, she knew that he’d love her with the same deranged passion until her dying days.

“Alright then,” he grinned. “Let’s get fucking married!”

He placed the ring on her finger and rose to his full height.

“Now, I have to change, pretty girl. I suggest you get your swollen puffy face under control–you don’t want to regret those wedding pictures later on.”

Elain stared at him.

“Are we really doing this now?” she whispered.

“Fuck yeah we are. But before anything happens, I need to talk to my pug.”

Elain straightened her dress, her hands shaking. 

“You gonna hyperventilate and freak out?” he asked seriously, unbuttoning his shirt.

Elain shook her head and then said, “No. Are you really going to marry me?”

He smiled and said,

“You know it, baby.”

She walked to the doors and opened them.

Everyone was there. Were they listening? She wouldn’t put it past them.

“Az!” Cassian yelled loudly. “May I remind you that you said that you wanted to marry a girl who knew how to bake. And Ellie knows how to bake! So technically, yours is a match baked in heaven!”

“For the love of god,” Nesta groaned.

Azriel was laughing.

“You are right! That’s why I am marrying her!”

Cassian’s roughly beautiful face broke into a wide smile.

“Ellie, you said yes?”

Elain extended her arm forward and showed off her new ring to everyone.

“I am happy for you, pumpkin,” her father stepped forward and threw herself in his arms with a sob.

“Now, don’t cry, sweetheart,” he stroked her head. “Rhysand has been kind enough to let me know that the thing is done. And here, I brought your mother’s veil, in case you wanted to wear it. Feyre didn’t get the chance, so I thought that maybe you’d like to.”

-

It's a light relief from a bad habit

It's my mother's cookin' when I can't have it

It's the last train home from the day trippin'

It's the place I know when I start slippin'

Darling, won't you take me home?

Send me shivers somewhere I used to go

Wrap my name across your mouth

When I let my feelings down

Darling, won't you take me home?

Yeah, won't you take me

Tell me, does your mother know? Oh

I still love you, head to toe, yeah

Like the back of my car on a sunny day

You're the song on the radio I never play

You're the words in my soul that I wanna say, yeah, I wanna say

So won't you make me stay?

‘Home’ was the song that Elain Archeron walked down the aisle to the man she loved.

He stood there, grinning, his arms thrown over the shoulders of his brother and his cousin, waiting for her at the end of the road.

She held her sisters’ hands, because for better or worse, they were there for her, come rain or shine. And there were no better people to bring her to her Azriel. 

Her father and Fenris walked ahead of the three sisters, with Piglet between them. 

If there was one creature who was giving Elain away, and trusting her to Azriel, it was Piglet. Her faithful companion. Her friend. Her protector. The one who had saved her just as much as she’d saved him. 

Elain was blinded by tears of happiness, but she’d noticed Lord and Lady Darling, and Dev, and some rough looking men, who she’d assumed were Azriel’s mates from days long gone, and there were his teammates in attendance as well. Her friends were there too, and somehow, she realised that she was always a foregone conclusion, and Azriel knew it. So he chanced inviting everyone to their wedding, because he knew that Elain belonged to him and would become his wife on this day. 

-

Every song that they had danced to was called ‘Home’. 

Their wedding song was ‘Home’ by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros.

“Home is wherever I'm with you,” Azriel whispered in her ear, holding her close to him. He kissed her head and added, “you haven’t stopped crying, you know.”

Elain craned her neck to look up at him and demanded, “kiss me right now!”

He laughed and pressed his lips to hers. It was a slow kiss, relaxed and leisurely. Like he had all the time in the world. And maybe he did.

“I am too happy,” she admitted, her hands wrapped tightly around his neck. “I am overwhelmed and I am too happy.”

“So I guess you did want to marry me?” he teased. 

“Pfff, not even a little!” she argued.

“Obviously.”

Feyre was dancing with Piglet and Fenris. And Dev, much to Cassian’s chagrin, somehow snatched Nesta into a dance. Rhysand had smooth, hip-thrusting moves which caught the eyes of every woman at the party. Too bad he only had eyes for Feyre. 

At that moment, Piglet jumped out of Feyre’s arms and trotted to the newlyweds.

He got up on his hind legs, swaying to the beat and asking to be picked up. Which is what Azriel did. He picked the pug up and pulled Elain closer, so the dog was between them.

“One minute you are asking for her number,” he muttered, “and then next minute, you are a dad to a spoiled dog you never asked for. And you are married.”

The gorgeous black-haired woman who bore a striking resemblance to Azriel and Cassian was introduced to Elain as their mother. 

“Ohmygod,” Elain murmured, watching her father and her new mother-in-law dance rather affably, before they went to drink champagne and giggle.

“Ohmygod,” Azriel echoed, his eyes wide. 

“Are they,”

“Into each other?” he finished her thought. “Looks like it!”

Cassian descended upon the two of them, wrapping his massive arms around their shoulders and grinning like an idiot.

“Ma and your dad are getting it on!”

“They are not getting it on!” Elain gasped. 

“Ha! Looks like there will be a coupla wedding nights tonight,” he winked at them, and then rushed to sweep Nesta off her feet in a dance. She pushed him away a little, but then wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned into him. Cassian smiled and caged her in his embrace, holding her close.

“Treat my elske well, yeah, mate?” Fenris, tall and imposing, appeared at their side, and gave Azriel a measured look which hid a bit of a warning in it. “You got my first love to fall for you and marry you. But she will always be my first love.”

Instead of arguing or protesting, Azriel pulled Elain close to him, his hand resting on her hip, and extended his other hand to the blond man.

“I promise,” he said seriously.

“Good man. Now, did she tell you that you gotta take her surname now?” Fenris laughed, shaking Azriel’s hand and clapping him on the shoulder.

This was news to Azriel, who turned to look at Elain, confusion written on his face.

“Beautiful?”

She bit her lip and mumbled, “Ummm…well, yes. You have to. It’s, well,”

“I have to become a Mr. Archeron now? Since when?”

“Well, in my family, if a man is of lower rank, he takes the Archeron name…” she explained lamely.

“Well, newlyweds, I’ll let you sort it all out. Welcome to the family, Azriel,” Fenris smiled. “See you at Ascot! Oh yeah, did she tell you? You’ll need to participate in all the fun social events now. She used to drag me when her ginger wasn’t available. Now she has you, Mr. Azriel Archeron.”

“We have to discuss this Archeron thing,” Azriel said, as he watched Fenris greet a stunning woman with striking green eyes. “Can I hyphenate it at least?”

Elain nodded, “Yes. That's alright.”

“Well thank god for that.”

The wedding venue

-

By the end of the day, when Azriel and Elain left the Old Chelsea Town Hall, showered with flower petals, he not only had a new wife at his side, but also a new name.

And somehow, he didn’t mind it one bit. Especially because he shared the name with his son, and his wife. He figured he’d drop the surname of his hateful father, Singer, because he wasn't sure why he was still keeping it, and would make it official:

Azriel Archeron-Night

Elain Archeron-Night

Piglet Pinky Archeron-Night

Only Piglet was staying behind. He wasn’t thrilled. However, Azriel was pretty firm on this–Piglet needed to sit a few days out, while Azriel was going to make his new wife truly his. The things he was going to do to her did not include catering to Piglet’s many whims or waking up at 6:30 in the morning to take him out.

So Piglet was staying behind. 

At first, Feyre volunteered to take him, to which Rhys made horror eyes. His helpless and terrified gaze was caught by Sir Charles, and he beckoned Piglet to him.

“Do you want to stay with grandpa, big boy?”

Piglet considered and then gave an affirmative bark. Yes, he would stay with grandpa. He would like that very much. Because that meant pretty much unlimited snacks, running around in grandpa’s big house, long walks in the park behind the house, and he knew they’d be going to the Connaught Bar where grandpa liked to go every night for a drink, and where Piglet was allowed to sit quietly–which he did. 

“We’ll take care of him,” the lady told Azriel. 

The lady seemed nice, at least at first glance. Piglet would need to do more bonding and see how she was with snacks. But it looked like grandpa liked the lady, so Piglet was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt.

“Ma,” Azriel began, but Sir Charles interrupted him and said, “don’t worry about us, son. We’ll take care of the pooch. You take care of my girl.”

We.

Apparently, Sir Charles and Azriel’s mother were going to take care of Piglet together. Azriel wasn’t sure what was happening, but he overheard the man inviting her to Scott’s tomorrow night for dinner. Scott’s was on Sir Charler’s street–only a block away from where he lived. Would there be a…nightcap afterwards? Azriel shuddered. Life was stressful enough: he just got married, he was on the verge of winning the Premier League title with Arsenal, he needed to move house, and he likely was going to be selected for England’s National Team for the Euros in Germany come June. He really couldn’t think of his mother and his father-in-law getting hot-n-heavy in Sir Charles’s mansion. That was too much to take even for Azriel. He already felt like he was a walking heart attack waiting to happen. 

But at least Piglet was sorted out, even though Feyre promised (threatened) to take him to the park tomorrow for a ‘long walk’. Chances were that Feyre would be carrying Piglet through Kensington Palace Gardens herself on her ‘long walk’, but Azriel figured that that was between Piglet and Feyre.

-

Azriel helped Elain into the car, folded her train carefully onto the floor and then got in himself.

He’d left Dev to party and there was one of Lord Darling’s drivers waiting for them.

“Congratulations on your wedding Mr. and Mrs. Night,” the driver greeted them pleasantly. “Where to?”

Elain glanced at Azriel with gentle hope shining in her eyes and he said, “We live in Bloomsbury. Near Russell Square and the British Museum.”

“Certainly, sir,” the driver nodded and pulled away into traffic.

Elain threaded her arm through his and put her head on his shoulder.

“Alright, beautiful?” he asked.

She nodded wordlessly.

“Still happy?”

She nodded again and buried her face in his shoulder. Azriel reached and cupped her cheek in his hand, stroking her gently, before dropping lower and pulling her hair out of its bun. A thick lock curled around his finger and Elain sighed with relief, once the tightness in her scalp lightened. 

Azriel pulled his phone out, and then smiled to himself.

“What?” Elain finally asked, noticing his little smirk.

“Oh, I don’t know…it’s nothing,” he shrugged, but she knew that it wasn’t ‘nothing’.

“Tell meeee,” she whined and he laughed.

“Look,” he showed her the phone. “It started off with Crazy Pug Lady, then I changed it to Pretty Matchmaker,” he explained, as she watched him thumb through his contacts. “By November, it was Az’s Girl,” he chuckled, “and finally, the much maligned Mrs. Night,”

She blushed at that, but he tsked and muttered, 

“Time for one last change?”

She glanced at him quizzically, and then watched his fingers delete Mrs. Night. In turn, he typed a new contact: Wife.

Azriel had all kinds of plans for his wedding night. To say that he hadn’t thought about it–a lot–would be a gigantic lie. He thought about his wedding, and his wedding night all the time. Constantly. Because somehow, he knew that as bizarre as it was at this day and age, he’d have to marry Elain first, before having sex with her. And he was correct. Here he was, married. To the love of his life. His beautiful girl. His proper soulmate. 

What he didn’t expect was for Elain to take charge. 

Once the car pulled to the house and the driver opened the doors for Elain, Azriel rounded the boot and shushed the man to step aside. The driver wasn’t put off, but only smiled and let Azriel scoop Elain into his arms. He threw ‘’night’ to the driver and headed toward the white steps, bounding up pretty quickly. Good thing he thought to grab Elain’s purse on the way out, because otherwise, they’d be locked out right now and that didn’t bode well for the sucking and the fucking that was currently on his mind.

As soon as he opened the door and carried Elain across the threshold, she gently wrapped her arms around his neck and coaxed his face lower, so she could kiss him. Her little eager tongue slipped easily into his mouth and she kissed him hard, impatient hands tugging on his shirt.

None of that virginal, shy, timid behaviour that Azriel came to expect from Elain. He figured that he’d have to cajole and gently sway her into it, and he was prepared to do that. He was prepared to be slow and careful and romantic. He was prepared to worship her, lovingly lick her pussy and make sure that she was comfortable and cared for throughout.

But now, he was reconsidering things. Quickly.

Elain wasn’t acting timid or shy.

The way she was kissing him–possessively, hungrily, deeply, swiping her tongue into his mouth was anything but bashful.

Heat and sweat broke out all over his body, and he grew boiling hot under his suit and his famed self-control all but slipped and disintegrated right then, just as Elain pushed her hand under his shirt, pulling it out from under his trousers with feverish ferocity. 

“I need to see you,” she breathed heavily, “I need to see your body,” she demanded, touching him tentatively, and pressing her palm to his firm abdomen, her flesh hot against his own.

He smiled a smug sort of smile, watching her desperation, and how she trembled against his body.

“And you haven’t seen me naked yet,” he murmured into her panting, soft mouth. Elain stilled mid-kiss and then snorted a laugh. 

“Of course you would say that,” she dragged her nails over the back of his neck. “Is it an implication of the size of your cock?”

“Oh, baby, you know my cock is big,” he winked. “You had copped a feel a time or two,” he reminded her, before wrapping his fingers around her hand and whispering, “care to take this inside the house and not stand in the foyer?”

“So impatient, Mr. Archeron,” she stroked his stomach again, before proceeding to unbutton his shirt slowly. 

“Mrs. Night,” he said casually, watching her long lashes flutter against her cheeks, as she watched his body reveal itself to her, and his thumb skimmed over her bare collarbones. “You have no idea the kind of impatient I am right now. However, the kind of sex I want to have with you isn’t done against the wall of the house entrance next to the coat closet.”

To demonstrate, he leaned against her, pressing his pelvis into her belly, and showing her exactly how desperate he was for her.

“Impressed, sweetness?” he whispered into her ear, before nipping on the earlobe and flicking it with his tongue. 

She swallowed hard and looked up at him. A bit of her bravado had disappeared once she felt the heat of him and the overwhelming size of his 6”5 foot frame and the jumble of muscles that covered his body.

“I want to show you how good sex with a man can actually be. Sex with your husband,” he reminded her heatedly, as if she would forget. “Your Fenris was impressive and I am sure that he is hung like a stallion,”

Elain gasped and blushed profusely, which made Azriel smile. “But,” he continued, “you were young and inexperienced. And your subsequent blokes probably didn’t rock your world. But I am eager to show you, baby,” he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her to him.

She licked her lips and moaned, “show me then.”

“I will, sweetness. I will.”

Under her long skirt, Elain’s thighs fell apart around his own and he decided to offer her just a taste of what was about to come. So he shifted his leg until the upper part of his thigh pressed into her warmth. Grabbing her hands in his big one, he lifted her arms over her head and pinned her to the wall, and then lifted her skirt up and over her legs, so he could slot his leg in at a better angle.

Elain groaned, her eyes falling shut, her neck arching backwards.

She was hot and damp and he felt her through the material of his trouser, the soft folds parting for him, as he ground her down on his thigh. He dragged his tongue against the flushed skin of her throat, while he moved her hips against him, bucking her down and pushing hard. 

“That’s my girl,” he encouraged. “Rub that pussy over me. Get yourself nice and soaked for me.”

Unable to touch him, she writhed and moaned a long throaty moan, her hips gyrating on his leg, scooting in a way that allowed for the most amount of friction for her clit. 

“Oh god,” she cried out, “I am going to come.”

He nodded, urging her on, strangely proud of the fact that the first act that they experienced as husband and wife in their house was her orgasm. The thought was delicious.

“Two minutes of a bit of rubbing and you are coming already?” he teased. “I fucking can’t wait to do all the things to you.”

“You want my first orgasm to be in the foyer?” she moaned.

He shrugged. 

“I am not denying my wife any orgasms. Take what you need, my love. There are numerous ways that I can make you come. This is just an amuse bouche.”

He didn’t touch her with his fingers yet, but found the plain cotton knickers that she favoured and tugged them upwards, wedging them into her pussy. He sawed them back and forth over her clit, making her shudder and plead for relief. Her hips jerked and she stretched her arms tightly, trying to break free from his grip, which was impossible. But her breasts popped from under her dress and looked down at her, wantonly beautiful and on the edge of orgasm, Azriel couldn’t help but wince at the ache in his cock. He bit her neck sharply, his teeth skimming her pulsing vein.

“I’ve not seen your stunning orgasm face since December. I can’t wait to watch you again,” he grunted into her neck, “and I can’t wait to get inside of you and watch you as you clench my dick.”

Shaking and panting, she came quietly, but powerfully over his leg, her slim fingers squeezing his. 

“That’s my girl,” he kissed her cheeks, her nose, her mouth, “keep coming. You are so beautiful, it’s fucking with my head.”

“I…I’ve never seen you,” she breathed, riding out her climax, “never seen you come,”

“Well you will today,” he promised with a laugh and kissed her again.

“Please,” she murmured, voice almost pleading, her eyes hooded and warm, her cheeks hot. “I want to…”

Azriel felt his cock stir, scenting the heady whiff of her orgasm wafting between the two of them. Releasing her hands, he squeezed her jaw in his fingers and kissed her savagely, his other hand tangling with her unbound hair, and he couldn’t help but imagine what it would feel like to grip all that gorgeous hair while he fucked her mouth and buried himself fully between those pink lips. He’d make her love it and she’d ask for more.

When he pulled away from her at last, panting for breath, she grunted, “we need to get upstairs”.

He nosed into her neck, murmuring, “you want to get fucked, baby?”

She nodded, clutching at his shoulders, while he caressed her thighs and then hoisted her up, grabbing her ass and giving it a hearty squeeze. Anal. Maybe not today, but eventually. Definitely. Though, considering how things were progressing so far, he wasn’t sure what the night would bring.

“Do you need a drink?” he asked, though he was heading upstairs as he spoke.

She smiled and shook her head. She didn’t need liquid courage. She needed him.

Looking at her, he couldn’t miss the heated look and the flushed cheeks and her messy hair that hung down his forearm.

“Yeah, no drink,” he muttered and she laughed.

“Maybe later,” she offered. “Once you’ve had your way with me.”

“Once I’ve had my way with you,” he promised savagely, “there won’t be any walking for you. For a while.”

“Okay, but please don’t cripple me with your dick,” she requested.

“I won’t, if you are going to be a good girl for me.”

She bit her lip prettily, looking sexy and fetching, and nodded, “I’ll be a good girl”.

He smiled, nodding to himself. 

Elain liked to submit. She was feisty enough in real life, successful, and in control. But she relinquished control when he was around–and he wasn’t sure whether she realised that or not. 

“And I will make you feel wonderful,” he promised, opening the door to her bedroom. Their bedroom, he supposed. Now, it was their bedroom. “And you will fall in love with me even more!”

“You are awfully sure of your magnificent prowess in the sheets,” she chuckled, but he kissed her along the jaw and smiled.

“I’ve got some experience,” he shrugged modestly. “And,” he set her down on the floor, and then reached behind her body, and tugged on the laces that kept her dress in place, “I am in love with you. Which makes me want to outperform myself. But now, I need to get you naked for me.”

He shifted the dress, loosening it around her body, and then pulled it down, and once it pooled around her feet, he offered her his hand in a most chivalrous manner and helped her step out of it. 

True to herself, she was wearing stockings with wide lace bands around her plump thighs and there was no way in hell that he was going to remove them. The knickers were plain white, with lace inserts and even from here, he could see that she was wet for him. Her full, round breasts were stuffed into a strapless bra, which he unclasped in one quick move, tossing it on the floor. It was a shame to watch her generous cleavage disappear, however, once he weighed the soft globes in his palms, he couldn’t think of anything else but watching how they swayed and moved with every touch, and how his thick brown fingers dug into the pale skin. He squeezed them, not gently, unable to help himself. Filling his hands with all that softness felt better than any drug–it was mesmerising to watch how he moulded her flesh to his liking, roughly thumbing her pink nipples, until she moaned a pathetic little ‘Azzzz…” She trembled with pleasure, her skin covered in goosebumps, her heart beating rapidly and loudly–he could see the blood rushing to the surface of her skin and colouring it a pretty pink.

He pulled her nipples hard, twisting them between his fingers, squeezing tightly until she whimpered in pain and gasped, balling her hands at her sides. 

“Oh, it hurts,” she breathed.

“I know,” he told her simply, twisting and pinching her nipples harder, watching them redden between his thumb and forefinger. “You can take it, sweetheart,”

She nodded, licking her lips again. 

After he nearly fisted her the first time, and he only stopped short of cramming his whole hand inside of her up to the wrist, Azriel learned that Elain liked some pain with her pleasure. She liked the discomfort. She wasn’t as vanilla as everyone'd assumed she was. And truthfully, after meeting Fenris, Azriel wasn’t surprised. The huge blond bloke was pretty as fuck, but there was something sordid lurking beneath the handsome visage. The man was into something hard, and Azriel was going to discover what it was later on. But Fenris took Elain’s virginity, and no matter what, he couldn’t have been all gentle and accommodating. It just wasn’t in him, because in Azriel’s case, it took one to know one. 

So, instead of easing his grip on her tits, he asked “more?”

And his good girl nodded and mouthed, “more”.

He pushed her against the wall, so there would be some support for her, and then squeezed her breasts together and dropped to his knees in front of her, bringing them to his mouth. He pulled her swollen nipples deep inside and gave them a rough, hearty suck. He watched her wince, when he worked his tongue and his lips over the puckered buds, biting them, and sucking ferociously, but she only whispered, “Oh, that’s good…Please, my love…”

Yeah she fucking loved it. 

“Hold them for me and feed me,” he grumbled an order and she hurried to squeeze her breasts together and hold them for him as an offering. He palmed her ample behind in his hands, massaging it slowly, enjoying the feel of her skin, the heaviness of her tits in his mouth, the nearness of her body. He dipped his fingertips into her crack and pulled her cheeks apart, slowly at first, and then harder, until he felt around her tiny hole and pressed his fingers around it, feeling how it stretched. 

He pulled his face away from her breasts and her wet nipples glistened next to his cheek. The breasts bounced, and he licked them, until they were wet with his saliva. 

“Baby, anybody fucked your ass?” he asked, knowing the answer in advance.

“Nooo,” she shook her head, glassy-eyed and perfect, panting softly, while he played with her little hole. 

“I’ll have to fuck it, you know that, right?” he said plainly. 

“Yes,” she agreed simply. “Today?”

“We’ll see how your pussy fares,” he rose to his feet, but didn’t release her ass from his grip. “If you can’t take anymore dick in there, you might have to take it in the bum.”

Her eyes lit up with some sort of unholy excitement at his proposal, and she whispered, “I want to be yours.”

“You are mine.”

“You said you’ll fuck all my holes,” she reminded him. “During your god awful proposal.”

He slapped her right ass cheek hard and warned, “keep on talking like that, and I’ll tear your pussy and you asshole.”

She laughed and then stood on her toes and kissed his mouth. 

“I want to see your cock,” she whispered into his lips, kissing him all over his face.

He grabbed her hand and brought it to his groin, letting her feel how hard he was for her.

She squeezed him through his trousers, running her hand up and down his length a few times, before he ordered, “On your knees, beautiful.”

She didn’t question the command, but lowered herself on her knees in front of him. Her knees were on the rug, but he stepped away from her, unbuttoning his trousers, while he grabbed a decorative pillow from the armchair. 

“I am not a monster,” he told her and tossed the pillow down on the floor. 

She sighed with relief and climbed on top of it, her posture relaxing instantly. 

He wasn’t a monster, but he also wanted her to spend a decent amount of time on her knees in front of him, and didn’t want her thinking of anything but his dick, and least of all not about knee pain. 

“Hands on your lap,” he instructed, and she obliged, placing her hands on her lap compliantly and waiting. He knew how to undress quickly, and therefore got rid of everything that he was wearing in less than a minute. Less than 30 seconds more like. 

His massive hand was squeezing the base of his shaft, and still, his cock loomed hard and proud at his navel.

Other than Fen’s, Elain had never found penises attractive. They were utilitarian at best, but mostly ugly and weird looking. 

Her husband’s cock literally made her mouth water.

She swallowed the excess of saliva, unable to tear her eyes from the huge pole that stood tall and thick, the cut of his V a visual guide to all that glory. 6”5, with a glorious dick. She was one absurdly lucky woman. Though the size of him gave her pause for a second. 

He must have noticed a flicker of trepidation on her face, when he came closer and lovingly stroked her head, and then her cheeks. 

“Do you like it, sweetness?”

“It’s beautiful,” she admitted. “But…will it,”

“Fit?”

She nodded, nervously chewing the inside of her cheek.

Azriel scrunched his nose with annoyance. The idea that her previous lovers didn’t wait until she was ready and didn’t take their time to prepare her sufficiently kind of made him rage inside. Well endowed or no, she shouldn’t be concerned, or worse, frightened. He’d have to remedy that. A little pain with her pleasure was one thing, but this wouldn’t do.

“Ellie, who is made for me?” he asked, caressing her mouth with his fingers.

She blinked at him and whispered, “I am.”

“That’s right, pretty girl. You are. So you know I will fit like it’s my god given right. Because we were made for each other.”

“You are such a romantic,” she teased, relaxing in front of him.

“You wouldn’t be saying that when I am fucking your face,” he warned playfully.

“Still a romantic. I know you, Azriel. A man after my own heart.”

Before he could say anything, she opened her mouth for him.

God damn, his wife was perfect.

“No touching, unless I tell you,” he warned, and then rubbed the thick, smooth, pink head of his cock over her lips.

She didn’t move, remaining in the same position, hands folded on her lap.

But the moment he touched her face and her lips with his dick, she lurched to lick at it. 

He slapped her lips lightly, cautioning her, but she licked again, and he whacked his meaty shaft on her face again.

“I want it,” she whined, bouncing on her knees. 

“You are that hungry for cock?” he smirked, his chest expanding from sheer male pride that he was feeling right this moment.

“Please, Az,” she begged, eagerly lapping on the head, pushing the tip of her tongue into the little slit, smearing her lips with precum.

“Please, Az, what?”

“I need it in my mouth,” she pleaded. “I want to suck.”

He placed his hand on the back of her head and then urged his shaft inside her mouth.

“Since you asked so nicely, baby. Show your husband how sorry you are for being bad,” he pushed against her tongue, making her swallow him down. Her brows knitted in defiance, because she still didn’t think that she'd done anything wrong, but he wasn’t going to have this argument with her anymore. Today, his cock is not going to be loving. Today, it was going to be punishing. And maybe, once she learned her lesson, he’d give her loving.

He propped his hand against the wall, holding the back of her head with his other hand and pushed his cock deeper, not allowing her to pull back.

“Watch me as I fuck this bratty little mouth,” he said. “And remember every time you rejected me, turned me away, and argued with me.”

She glared at him, but took him without complaint, her heavy tits swaying with every shove of his cock. Her mouth felt heavenly–warm and wet, and she sucked him noisily and deeply, swallowing a little more with every push of his hips.

He stroked her hollowed cheeks, murmuring, “finally, my ornery girl, with a ring on her finger, my name next to hers, at my feet, her mouth full of my cock. Are you feeling contrite?”

She shook her head no, watching him brazenly with her watery eyes.

He sighed a heavy sigh and said, “Okay. I guess I’ll have to fuck you until you cry.”

And he did. 

He was merciless. 

Tears leaked out of her eyes, and she panted and dug her nails into her knees, moaning over his dick loudly. 

God. There was so much. He was so fucking big. She was feeling lightheaded from the lack of oxygen, her mouth absolutely ravaged by the girth of him. Her throat hurt, because while he didn’t force himself down into her, he pushed steadily, deeper and deeper. 

“Good fucking girl,” he praised. “Are you tired?”

She was, but she wasn’t going to stop. So she shook her head no. She was going to suck for as long as he wanted her to. Because perhaps, she was feeling contrite. Maybe she was sorry. But she wasn’t going to tell him that.

He tsked in warning when she grabbed onto his thighs, squeezing them for purchase. 

“Did I say you can touch?” he gave her a disappointed look, and then pressed his cock deeper. She panicked and cried out, but he stroked her head and whispered, “you are okay. Breathe, breathe,” which she did, panting nervously through her nose. “It feels really good when you gag, sweetness. So I am going to choke you, but hold on to me, so I can feel how you are doing.”

He pulled her head back, holding it tightly in his palm and then stepped over her and pushed his shaft deep. She gagged desperately, but it didn’t feel unpleasant, especially when she looked at his blissed out expression and heard him muttering, “fuck it’s good…oh fuck, fuck…” She loved him and wanted to give him pleasure, and if this is what he enjoyed, then she was going to accommodate him. 

She stroked his firm, muscular ass–the thing could probably crack a handful of walnuts all at once. While he continued to fuck her mouth, she gently tiptoed her fingers closer to his hole and pressed on it. He stiffened between her lips and looked down. She looked for approval and he smiled at her, “Fuck, you look gorgeous. My dick in your mouth is exactly where it belongs.” He wiped her tears and told her, “suck me off, sweetness. Show me how hard you’ll work for me.”

The pressure on her skull finally eased and she was able to swallow him deeply and began sucking, bobbing her head on him. He grunted above her with enjoyment, and rasped quietly, “dip your pretty fingers in your pussy.”

She scrambled to obey, and smeared her fingers with her wetness.

“You know what to do,” he said then, waiting. She did. She wasn’t sure if he was into it, but apparently he was. Without breaking her steady rhythm, she parted his cheeks and carefully pressed her wet fingers inside of him. He tensed, as she worked them deeper inside and she noticed the whiteness of his knuckles. He was holding on by a thread. And Elain was very pleased. Because she did this. She drove him to the brink and it was clear that he was just about losing his mind. She pumped him firmly, sucking on his cock, and finding the spot inside of him which made him shudder and moan. He wasn’t particularly vocal in bed, but this stimulation unleashed him and his hips buckled against her. He wanted to last longer, but he knew that the future was bright and he could indulge in this play as frequently as he wanted. Thank fuck.

So he thrust hard down her throat and ground out, “choke”. The added vibrations inside her gurgling throat brought him over the edge and he came so hard, he was afraid he was going to black out. His new wife with his dick in her mouth, and he, unconscious on the floor. Whatta wedding night…afternoon.

He watched her suck on him, her throat contracting as she swallowed. “Show me,” he asked and she opened her mouth and showed him her cum-stained tongue. 

“My good girl. Swallow everything,” he urged unnecessarily. Of course she was going to swallow everything. “Holy shit, you are brilliant,” he vowed, caressing and stroking her. 

She smiled at him and he gave her his arm, lifting her off the floor.

“This was the best blowjob I’ve ever gotten,” he admitted.

She wiped her lips with the back of her hand and smirked, “I am glad you liked it, husband.”

He wrapped his arms tightly around her and pressed his lips to hers.

“Say it again,” he hissed, almost crushing her against his chest. 

“I am glad,”

“No not that!”

“That you liked it?” she teased.

“Wife!”

“Yes, husband?”

“That’s better.”

He pushed her towards the bed and then tossed her on it unceremoniously.

“I need to eat your pussy, or I will die,” he declared dramatically.

“Die?”

“Do you want to be a widow?”

She frowned at his words and then smacked his shoulder. 

“If you don’t stop saying stupid things, I will kick you in the dick!” she threatened.

“Sorry baby,” 

He lay her on the bed and kissed her belly.

“See, this is me being contrite,” he told her, sliding her damp panties down her legs and leaving her naked except for her stockings. He placed an open mouth kiss right on her bare slit and dragged his tongue from her back hole to her clit. “Do you want to try it?” he offered. “It’s easy.”

“I am not sorry!” she told him stubbornly, grabbing the plush duvet in her fists and arching her back for him.

He pushed her knees apart, almost pressing them to the bed and kissed her pussy again.

“Spread yourself for me,” he requested, his breath fanning over her damp skin.

She blushed, which was kind of silly, because she was laid out in front of him bare and spread, but this somehow, was too much.

“You just spent twenty minutes being gagged with my dick in your throat, and now you are shy?” he cocked his brow at her.

She bit her lip, but wordlessly spread herself, pulling her folds far apart and exposing herself completely.

“That’s right, beautiful,” he moaned, “that’s perfect. No secrets between us. Nothing unsaid. Nothing unseen. You are mine and I am yours. The way it should be.”

“Az,” she breathed, feeling vulnerable and uncovered, and yet, trusting him for some reason. He might not deserve her trust, not yet, not everything that he’s pulled, but she couldn’t help it. At the end of the day, he did right by her. Married her. Trusted her. 

He tongued her clit steadily and it felt amazing, but she looked down at him and whispered, 

“Az, I know you will die if you don’t eat my pussy,” she laughed softly.

“Yeah,” he concurred, slurping her down.

“But I need you inside of me. Please. I want to be your wife in every sense of the word. I’ve waited for so long for you. And now you are here. And I can’t wait anymore.”

He sat back on his hunches and his thumb replaced his tongue, as he looked at her from between her legs.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she nodded. 

“You think you are ready?”

“I’ve been ready since before Halloween,” she chuckled.

He grabbed his cock and gave it a few long, leisurely strokes, while she watched him with desperate hunger in her eyes.

“I want you inside of me,” she begged softly. He crawled over her and squeezed her throat gently, before kissing her deeply.

“Anything you want, my love. Anything for my wife.”

He licked her soft breasts and then lightly slapped them with his dick, poking her nipple with its blunt head. He lifted her breast up and said, “suck” and she licked on her own nipple, craning her head down. He pushed the cockhead inside, and closed his hand over her chin, making her suck both her nipple and the tip of his cock. 

“Good girl,” was all he said, watching her with a blazing gaze of absolute devotion. “The things we’ll do together,” he added dreamily. His imagination had no bounds when he thought of his wife and their sex life.

She popped her nipple and his cock out of her mouth and kissed the tip, saying, “take me, husband”.

It was an invitation that Azriel couldn’t resist.

He rubbed himself briefly and then kissed her lips slowly.

“I will go slow, beautiful. You are probably tight as fuck, so I want to make this count, and I want to make this last, alright?”

“Yes, Az, I want you so much I feel like I am going to burst,” she complained.

He pressed against her, rubbing his shaft in her slick, before sliding slowly inside.

“Oh fuck,” he groaned, almost in surprise? “Oh…tight…”

Tight didn’t even begin to describe how incredible she felt. 

He seriously considered the possibility that he was going to blow his load before he was even fully inside of her. And that’s despite having come only ten minutes ago. Jesus fuck.

The blissful tightness was indescribable, and he shuddered like a dog, trying to pace himself.

Her nose was scrunched and she scowled adorably, before he stopped, allowing her time to get acquainted with the sensation and kissed her lovingly.

“You are amazing, Ellie. How are you doing?”

“You are huge!” she blurted out and he couldn’t help but laugh.

“Sorry, sweetness. Nothing I can do about that. Does it hurt?”

“It’s so fucking tight!”

“You are telling me!” he smiled, but then lay his palm on her stomach and stroked her lightly.

“Look at me,” he ordered, “and relax. You are tensing up. I am yours, beautiful. No need to be nervous.”

She exhaled heavily, following his instruction, and attempting to ease against him. He was insanely hot and thick, and despite the pressure, he felt mind-numbingly good. Her walls stretched, as he pushed his way in, and when he pushed his hand onto her mound and pressed his thumb to her clit, she moaned with pleasure.

“That’s right, sweetness,” he urged her on. “Pussy was made to please me.”

He sank deeper and deeper, pressing forward firmly, but without aggression. “Open up for me, Ellie.”

She helped him out, lowering her hips down onto him, panting loudly, while he rubbed her clit and finally bottomed out. His balls pressed to her ass and the entirety of his enormous shaft was lodged inside. 

She closed her eyes, and expelled a tortured, deep moan of pleasure.

“Finally in you, my Elain,” he breathed, cupping her face in his hand. “My god.”

“Finally in me,” she echoed him. “I love it. I love it so much.”

He fucked her then. Not fast, but driving each thrust hard into her. His hand was on her face, the scarred, uneven surface of his fingers tracing the hollow of her cheek. He touched her face, her lips, until he wrapped his arm around her head, holding her in the crook of his elbow. He watched her let go then, and become focussed only on that moment. The heaviness of him, the weight of his muscles and bones, and the heat of his skin, the pressure of his fingers on her hip, as he dug deep into her skin, and the sensation of his shaft filling her seemed to be the only things that mattered to her in that moment. 

“Make me feel like you’ll never let me go,” she moaned.

“I will never let you go,” he promised.

Shifting her hips on his cock, he made her groan, as she clawed at his bicep, because he hit that spot. And it seemed like no one else’s done this before, judging by the awed expression on her face. 

“You like that?” he smiled, kissing her and thrusting hard. 

“You are so deep,” she gushed. “The deepest.”

“I should hope so. I do have a long dick.”

But he looked prideful and satisfied by her comment. 

He picked up the pace then, driving into her smoothly and with single-minded intent. Her stocking-clad legs wanted to wrap around him, but he preferred to keep her open, so he could watch his dark shaft slide in and out of her pinkiness. He threw her knees over his elbows, keeping her nice and pliant and loose. 

It felt good. 

Just fucking her like this. Nice and deep and steady. 

He could enjoy the moment, watching her beautiful face, her messy hair, her breasts which jumped and bounced steadily from his thrusts. 

Their bodies slapped and rubbed together, and he loved the sexual sounds that they were making together. She bowed beneath him, arms thrown above her head, grabbing the edge of the pillow, eyes closed. 

“Do you want me to play with your clit?” he offered but she shook her head and said, 

“No. Just keep going like this. It’s too good. I never want it to stop.”

Ditto.

Azriel. Her husband. Her love. Her dream. Her forever. 

She didn’t want to come, but she couldn't stop the tidal wave of pleasure engulfing her.

He caught on to that and pulled himself higher, grabbing the padded headboard with his left hand, and gaining more leverage. His hips drove into her with increased speed, though he didn’t break his rhythm. 

“Az,” she whispered his name and he tucked his face against her cheek, listening to her laboured breathing, wanting to hear her say it again. And again. 

“My Az,” she repeated softly, worshipfully. “My husband.”

“Yours, Elain. Always yours.”

He felt when she came for him, her tightness squeezing over him, drinking from him, pulling him deeper. Her arm fell over his shoulders, holding him to her. 

Her muscles were still quaking, when he released a pleasured moan, enjoying her complete disintegration beneath him, while he found his own climax and came hard and deep inside of her. They were both bare to each other–soul and cock and cunt. 

He wasn’t ready to think about children yet, but he wouldn’t have minded if the outcome would result in a baby. If his seed found the way, then so be it.

He kissed her slowly, still spasming inside of her, his pelvis nestled next to hers. 

“I love you, beautiful,” he whispered, throwing her leg over his hip and keeping his spent cock inside.

When he looked at her, he saw that she was in tears.

“Oh my god, Ellie, what’s wrong? Are you hurt?” he asked in a panic.

She held onto him and said, tears rolling down her cheeks,

“I am in love with you.”

Relief flooded him, but he only stroked her face and said, “I am in love with you too.”

-

Behind the windows, the sun was setting.

London.

A black pearl of a city surrounded by the brightest green of emeralds, cut in half by the cobalt ribbon of the Thames. 

London.

Not agreeable. Not easy. Not forgettable. Always magnificent.

London. Where a bad day is still better than most good days anywhere else.

London. Where dreams are made and crushed, where surprising matches are made in the convoluted and circuitous corners, where a footballer and a Lady can find their own heaven.

London was home.

-

“You. It was always you. Even before I knew you. It was you when I first heard your voice. It was you when I saw your face. It was you that I had asked about, when I asked the eternal question–is this love? And the answer was yes. It’s love. And the one that I love is you.”

[queer-ragnelle]

I hope you don't mind me asking. But how do you create PDF files that you can search through them? Your method is so unique, so I'm curious.

Hi anon!

After I scan a book and have a PDF saved, it can’t be searched. It has to be edited and made that way. So I open it up in Adobe Acrobat. There’s a tool called “Optimize PDF” which has a lot of different features you can fine tune the settings of but essentially what it does is:

Straighten out the text to be perfectly horizontal and level (I try to scan two pages at a time then crop, so raw scans can be a little wonky)

Recognizes the text on the page (which allows key word search, highlighting, commenting, everything you can do with a word document)

Reduces file size (I scan at 300 or 400 dpi, which makes a sharp image, but a huge file, so this compresses it to be easier to store and share)

I find this aspect of scanning to be very valuable, personally, as it can make researching and referring back much easier. Even though I’ve already read these books, searching through for a specific scene is vastly more efficient when you can pinpoint the exact sentence based on a remembered phrase. It’s also nice to be able to highlight those to emphasize a point. Furthermore by reducing the file size it’s much easier to share the information with others. I’m able to attach files to messages without going over limits and I can open the books right from the google drive mobile app wherever I go.

Like if I’m out and about wondering just how much Cherith Baldry loves Kay, I can crack open Exiled From Camelot and do this

2,387 mentions of Kay? Yeah. He’s kind of a big deal. ;^)

But real talk accessibility is an important aspect of my archival work. I try to provide the best version of a scan I can with my limited resources because I don’t know that the book will survive otherwise. Ruth PM Lehmann has passed away, so scanning Blessed Bastard, which only had a limited printing to begin with and now lacks a beneficiary, felt significant to me. The same goes for Peter Hanratty’s The Book of Mordred, which is an English translation of a German story and hasn’t been in print for decades. As for medlit, La Tavola Ritonda and my janky scanner tested my will to live but it ended up being so worth it to see everyone’s thoughts on it! I couldn’t find PDFs of these texts available anywhere, so I wanted to make sure they were preserved in the most accessible state possible for everyone to enjoy.

Anyway I hope that answers your question. I’ve got two books on the way I’m going to scan next and looking forward to sharing! :^) Take care.<3

[luwritesomething]

hey!! i saw what you wrote about mickey, billy and stu taking care of the sick reader. so i was wondering if i could request something with billy and stu x the reader? basically, stu ends up catching the world’s WORST cold. we’re talking the poor love can barely get through a sentence because he keeps sneezing, shivering, and my god it is tissues galore up in this house.. SO, billy and the reader step up and insist on taking care of him! (sick stu would be so fucking adorable)

(also it’s up to you if you want to include billy or not!!) i don’t mind at all!)

ps: your work is absolutely AMAZING!! :)

Stu Macher Heacanons: Him catching a cold would include...

Warnings: Swearing lol, probably typos or bad constructed english, poly!ghostface (aka poly relationship between reader and billy/stu. not a warning in reality)

Edited?: Like always, no.

Reader's pronouns: Not stated, gender neautral (reader gets called 'angel' once)

Summary: Stu catching a terrible cold!!!!

Author's note: THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING FOR STU, I LOVE YOU. he gives me so much comfort <3 i made this in the form of headcanons, hope you don't mind. also, anon is referring to THESE headcanons, so you should go and check them out. also thank you so much for the compliment, you're lovely <3 here's my billy and stu playlist because why not.

criticism, comments and reblogs are always appreciated! requests are open, especially for scream! hit that anon button and tell me your ideas. in the scream fandom, i write for billy loomis, stu macher, randy meeks, tatum riley, sidney prescott, mickey altieri, kirby reid, chad meeks martin, mindy meeks martin, tara carpenter, anika kayoko and laura crane.

i feel like you wouldn't find out about him actually catching a very bad cold until billy appeared on your doorstep with the news.

it would literally go like this,,,

"billy?"

"we're going to stu's. he's sick."

"oh, hell."

it wasn't often that stu got sick, but you knew the eternal annoyance journey a sick stu would put you through.

you still love him, he's always so adorable, but oh sick stu...

the firsts days are the worse for him, because those are the days in which he really feels sick and he's shivering and coughing and covering himself up in blankets.

but once those days pass... he becomes a menace.

billy is the bad cop, you're the good one. neither of you had really realized the reality of that dynamic until a bedridden, fiverish stu called you out.

you two have learned to take advantage of that, though

"i said put the fucking thermometer!"

"NO!"

"stop yelling, you two! stu, please, put it on."

"...fine."

billy makes him soup, and during the few times you don't stay by stu's side, you help billy with whatever he's doing in the kitchen.

first time, stu accidentally poured the soup over himself because of his hands shaking so much and the three of you panicked.

constantly checking for fever, by putting either your hand or lips to his forehead.

billy can take a lot of things, but not snots. he gets really grossed out at the amount of tissues in stu's room, so if stu is too sick or tired to throw them out, you do it for him.

the amount of attention he receives from the two of you is worth the cold for stu.

"i'm sick of the soup."

"c'mon, stuwie. billy made it for you. have one more spoon?"

if billy loses his patience with stu, you're there to ease him and ground him.

and it works the other way around, because stu may call you angel, but everyone can lose their patience.

when billy starts getting tired of stu's sickness, he locks himself somewhere else and copies homework and the notes that stu has missed from school. it helps him stop being so cranky.

"you can't smoke when you're sick."

"...please?"

"... i can't say no to you. if billy finds out we're dead, so make it quick."

watching movies with him !!! even if he keeps sneezing !!!

y'all can't cuddle like you use to, but billy sits on the floor, you sit on a chair and stu sits on his bed as you all watch the movie on his bedroom's tv.

okay, listen !!

reading to him so he falls asleep. hell yeah,,,

billy would read him stephen king or some of his scary books, and you read him whatever he wants --- even if it's just comics.

he's just so happy about having you two taking acre of him.

[crashimminent]

Hello! Might I request transmasc Anya headcanons if you do those things? Anything is fine, I just want my daily dose of transgender. Yum!

YESSSS YES YES YES ANON YOUR BRAIN

I will be referring to Anya by He/Him pronouns on this post- if this isn’t what you had in mind, please correct me!

The big question is always “is he on hormones?” and honestly? No, I don’t think so.

T can be a lot! Gel can feel gross, shots can be scary and painful, patches may slip, etc etc etc.

Not to mention costly. He’s already struggling with nursing school, damn it. A prescription is just another hassle.

Top surgery is definitely on the plans up there. He’s still anxious about the idea, but knows he won’t really regret it.

Until then, his binder will do. He takes extra precaution to follow the safety rules, especially while in space.

Pony Express hired him, at the very least. Even if they’re a corporate who’s likely deeply transphobic at their core, they want money, damn it!

It’s sort of illegal to ask about that anyways. So it’s fine.

He prefers to wear bigger, baggier clothes. Nurse scrubs tend to be unisex, so it’s not like his clothes options are limited…

But sweaters and turtlenecks seem to be big favorites.

He likes his long hair too. It’s easy to tie back into a ponytail. Frames his face nicely.

The socks and sandals were deliberate though. That was a specific euphoria producing thing. People groan and call him an old man.

It’s just a nice idea to think he’d get there. To grow old as himself.

It’s not really poorly received though. The crew has other worries than the personal lives of the others.

Jimmy himself isn’t really… transphobic. Just sort of… anti-Anya. He makes lots of remarks to make Anya feel self conscious or dysphoric.

Mainly about his body. A lot about his body. It’s hard to determine whether he’s trying to help Anya “pass”, or if he just wants to jab at insecurities.

Curly… is trying! He doesn’t quiiite get it, but he’s accepted Anya as “one of the boys”, and tries to engage in almost frat style humor.

And you know what? If there’s a different name he prefers, the name “Anya” is getting nigh erased from the ship. Curly sure likes his paperwork to be accurate, it it’ll be accurate!

Swansea doesn’t care. Really, why would he? He’s not thrilled to be on a ship full of guys, but it doesn’t change anything.

( He does chat up Anya though, compares him to his own sons every now and then. He’s an oldtimer, but that’s no excuse to be a bigot. )

Daisuke takes this as an invitation. Whenever Swansea isn’t working him like a dog, he’s down in medbay, talking about girls and sports and video games and whatever he can think of that Anya might have an interest in.

Like, Anya’s a guy, right? He’s GOT to be interested in girls. What do you MEAN that’s not how it works? Daisuke knows everything there is to know about the ladies, and he’s gotta tell the guy!

He seems to forget Anya used to have hands on experience.

It’s… a bit of a relief that the restrooms on the ship aren’t separated by gender.

The crew tries to give him space, even if he doesn’t entirely mind that much. They don’t go in the showers if they know he’s there.

Swansea once came in while he was showering. They didn’t really say anything.

What’s he meant to care? They’re in different stalls, and…

Well. Swansea has a bigger rack than him. If anyone’s staring, it’s Anya. (Which of course, he didn’t- he’s got priorities.)

It’s still a little awkward navigating the social environment as a trans guy- a lot of effort is put into making him fit in when he really just wants to be treated normally.

But it’s nice to be seen and heard about one thing.

[usmsgutterson]

hi! Could I request a Kaz or platonic!crows x reader with a reader who has some kind of facial scar/s and is feeling a bit insecure about them,like they wear a mask to hide them but around the crows they don’t but lately they have been again maybe because of looks they’ve been getting from people or stuff people have said and so their feeling insecure bout them again (Hurt/Comfort)

If not that’s perfectly fine too! Have a wonderful day :] -🍒Anon

Five Bells- K.B + platonic! crows x gn! reader

Okay! Hi! Thank you for sending this in, I've been planning a lot of stuff lately and using writing to take breathers and still be productive, and I've been writing a good bit of angst in the past few days which has been absolutely lovely. All of your requests have also generally just been pretty fun and relaxing to write so thank you so much for sending them in and I'm terribly sorry about how late they're coming out!

I was just going to do platonic! crows but then the romance thing with Kaz came reflexively so I did both! It's most platonic crows but there's an element of kazzle dazzle romance there, which I hope is all good!

Fic type-hurt/comfort

Warnings- mentions of death by stabbing, slitting of throat, gunfire, bombs, and an illusion to heart attacks (nina calls it "heartrender magic" but that's what I was trying to reference), mention of a mask feeling like a "second skin", mention of daggers being pushed into the side of the head (it's nondescriptive), mention of being stabbed in the jugular, mention of itching powder, mention and depiction of people being dickheads about a facial scar (glaring at the reader when they have their mask off, which the reader illudes to having been a long-time occurrence) if I missed anything, I apologize and please don't hesitate to let me know!

Jesper was the first to notice it, the fact that you'd taken to wearing your mask again.

It was black, a little reminiscent of the medical masks that doctors wore, though it'd been made from Fabrikator altered fabrics and according to you, felt like wearing a second skin.

You wore that mask even in the worst conditions--hell, Jesper had seen you only adjust the mask rather than take it off completely after climbing six stories in the incinerator shaft at the Ice Court--but you never wore it around the crows.

Jesper had grown used to the sight of the scar, idly ghosting a finger along it whenever he would wrap an arm around your shoulders in a booth at the Crow Club after a terribly long job that everyone had risked their lives in.

But, Jesper noticed quickly that you'd taken to wearing the mask again.

Nina, Matthias, and Inej noticed it after him. You wore it day in and day out, just like you used to and like you still did on every single job.

Nina began counting the days she'd see you with it on in a row where Inej began looking at the people around, trying to see if there was any particular glowering set of eyes that was making you as insecure about it as you used to be.

A couple of weeks had passed, and if those who'd made you insecure were still around, they were good at shooting you disgusted looks when she didn't notice.

Matthias was more subtle. He would do as Inej did, as Wylan would later do when he noticed, glaring at the people who were unafraid of him and liked to make you insecure over a scar, a sign of a battle fought and a battle won. He was a calm, still guy who had the stature of a bolder. He was a guy who was quick to anger very rarely, but it seemed he was quick to anger, in that instance.

Wylan and Kaz noticed last. You'd brought the mask to Jesper, hoping he'd be able to repair the significant damage it'd taken in a job you'd done, and nobody heard from you in the two days that it took Jesper to fix it.

It'd been as though you disappeared.

Kaz, a man who'd accidentally become aware of where you were, able to sense you and seek you out since even before your relationship began, resented those two days.

Two days of seeking out the familiar feeling of your presence, two days of not finding it. Two very hellish days, if Kaz was to be honest with himself.

Wylan was less subtle then Matthias in his anger; he'd begun observing just like Inej had, his eyes roving the crowds the two of you found yourselves in like a lion sought out its prey.

He was ready and willing to throw blast powder at those behind your frequent wearing of the mask again, and whenever he threw out a seemingly empty threat, you couldn't help but notice that his voice raised an octave or two, like he was talking to someone who might've been a good distance away.

Nina and Matthias caught a very specific set of eyes one night in the Crow Club at the same time you did. You went to pull your mask up and Nina stopped you, giving you a grin.

"I know the fabric is designed to be breathable, but you really should let your skin have a break," she said. "And besides, you look ethereal tonight. Kaz is going to lose it when he sees you, especially considering the fact that he loves your scar."

You gave Nina an uneasy smile. "I'll be fine if I wear the mask."

"When was the last time you washed it?" Matthias asked with a pointed look. "We've done a lot for the job today, so even if you washed it yesterday, that may as well be pointless now. Let your face breathe in the two hours we have to break, wear the mask for the rest of the missions duration. You can wash it and then wear it again tomorrow."

You looked to the people who were glaring at you; their eyes felt like daggers being pushed into the side of your head. You found that Inej was also glaring at them, her glower fixed and unmoving

They couldn't see her, had yet to do anything other then stare at you, but she'd been visible in your line of sight. Just visible enough, really, and with the intensity that she glowered at them, it was a miracle they'd not felt her gaze.

Wylan and Jesper walked in, the two of them sensing an air of intensity the moment they passed through the doors.

Jesper approached the table instantly. Wylan fell back a bit, trailing Jesper after allowing his line of sight to fall in the same as Inej's. It allowed Wylan to effectively spot the fools who'd been staring you down over your scar, allowed him to glare at them briefly in turn.

"Fools," Jesper said as Kaz approached from a game he'd been manning that was close to the bar. He slid into the U-shaped booth beside you, passed you a glass of iced red wine. "The mask. They've been glaring at you til you've put it back on, eh?"

"A couple weeks now, yep," you admitted. "I thought I was secure. I thought I'd stopped hating the scar and started loving it, but now I don't even feel comfortable going without around you lot. My mask is more of a crutch then it normally is."

"Itching powder will do the trick with them, then," Wylan said determinedly.

"Or a gun to the head," Jesper offered.

"Knife to the throat," suggested Inej.

"A bit of heartrender magic would do it silently and from enough distance so as not to be on the Stadwatches list of persons of interest," Nina said pointedly.

"Fjerdan might would risk a trip to Hellgate, but you love me enough that Brekker would break me out," Matthias countered. "...Again."

"I would not," Kaz said.

"You would if I asked," you said pointedly, finger ghosting over the scar that you'd gradually grown to feel insecure about. Kaz only shrugged as you took a sip of your iced wine, refusing to admit that you were right.

"The scar makes you look wonderful," Jesper said. "I mean--of course you looked wonderful without it, but you look wonderful with it, too. Those people can get stabbed in the jugular, honestly."

"It makes you look intimidating," Nina said. "Especially in the right lighting. I mean that as a compliment, of course. Being intimidating in the Barrel is necessity but nobody ever really looks it lately."

"It's a sign," Matthias said. "For Fjerdans, a scar is a point of pride. It means you fought against someone and you won against them."

"I'll kill them if you'd like me to," Inej offered. "Or let Kaz do it. He looks like he wants to, anyway."

"No murder for tonight," you said.

"Three bells hits and all bets are off," Wylan said. "We'll be done with the job at half past two."

"Sounds good enough to me," Kaz said. "I'll get Anika and Pim to get them drunk and gambling. Drunkards stumble and fall over quick, but with Inej's and Jespers combined skills and some of Wylans itching powder, we'll be set."

"Why the gambling?" Nina asked.

"They've made Y/N self conscious. They're dying anyway, and I'll make a point of stealing their wallets beforehand. More loot for us to split in the end."

"So the demjin remains demonic," Matthias said.

"His demonic tendencies are being put to good use in this case," Nina said. "Y/N, we'll grab tea while the rest of them do their killing. Wylan, you'll come with us. We need you to start a rumor."

"What rumor?"

"That to think ill of Y/N and their scar, to express that through glaring or doing anything verbosely that might make them feel insecure, is to die. Kaz, Jesper, Inej, and I will be the ones doing the killing if Y/N doesn't want to do it themself."

"Work my bombs into that and I'll do it," Wylan agreed as Kaz checked his watch.

The time flew past easily, and before you knew it, you were getting up to finish the job.

In the end, between Kaz's ruthlessness, Jespers impeccable aim and Inejs skill with her knives, those who'd glared at you were unrecognizable by five bells that morning.

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

ARIIIII HI HELLO HEY !!! i got a bit busy (i hate assessments) but I'm back and I will soon read all the things I added to my tbr that you posted !! soooo excited hehe :3 I wanted to ask how you guys are playing phanpara.... i also want to see all the fun stuff and play.. ☹☹ manifesting the banners for you so you get them easily <333 - ❄ anon

❄️ ANON MY LOVE !! welcome back!!!! :3 i hope your assessments went well…. i’m proud of you for working hard 🫂🫂🫂 AND PLS don’t feel any pressure w the tbr, my fics will always be here when you have the time !!! <3333

BUT YES . phanpara ….. i’m not gonna lie to you anon getting it downloaded on ios was a whole trial of will but 😭😭 it’s actually. fairly simple. it’s easier on android (you just need to download a bunch of apps to emulate it!!) but on ios you need to manually change your appstore region to japan. and then download a vpn app. the biggest downside w ios is that there aren’t really any good translator apps!! :(( on android you can get bubble translate which lets you translate on screen text really easily…. but you won’t get anything like that on ios. so you won’t understand what the characters are saying (unless you take screenshots and throw them into an image translator)….

buuut if you’re still fine with that!! (assuming you have ios and not android)…. then i’ll leave the instructions down below :33 i’ll try to make them as clear as possible but just ask if you have any more questions!! i’d love to help!!! phanpara is sm fun…

ok so . here are all the steps !!

1) make a new appstore account!!

this step is easy :3 … i don’t. remember how i did it tho. pretty sure you just go to the appstore browser page?? or something.., and then you obv just need to add a name and a functional email address!

when you’ve made a new account, make sure that your ios is logged into it . just go to settings -> click your profile -> click on the appstore icon -> log out from your usual account and log in on the new one!! then you just need to press ”show account” to go to the next step.

2) change your region to japan!!

this is the complicated step. it’s not really that complicated though it just took me a while to figure it out 😭😭 you can use this site for reference if my descriptions confuse you lol

when you try to change your region to japan, you’ll be forced to add your name and your address. you can use your normal name (assuming it’s made up of english letters), but you’ll need to generate a jp address!! it’s actually kinda easy. this is the website i used!! it lists all the information you need in the correct order, so just . copy and paste into the settings . (i believe you’ll need to choose the prefecture manually, so just look at the prefecture name on the website and match it with the options ios gives you!!) street name, prefecture, city, zip code, phone number… etcetc. this may or may not be an illegal process but if you’re a gacha enjoyer i’m assuming you like living life on the edge.

you’ll also get the option to add a payment method, but you should be able to skip it by choosing the option at the bottom. this is important because otherwise it won’t let you change your region (unless you happen to have a japanese credit card hanging around)….

when you’ve entered all the necessary information, click the blue text in the top right corner to move on!! if you’ve done everything correctly you should be taken to the jp appstore :3

3) download phanpara + ovpnspider!!

now you’re almost done!!! downloading phanpara should be easy, just search for it in the appstore and. well. download it. when i did this i had to click through some ios popup page..??? but just . click your way through it. trial and error. until it lets you download the app <33

while phanpara is loading, download ovpnspider!! this one is super easy and doesn’t take up much space at all. when it’s finished downloading, just go into the app, go to the ”jp” folder and connect to one of the vpns!! the status has to be ”alive”, but any of them should work :3

4) play phanpara !!

now you should be good to go <33 the only issue is that the vpn can be a little difficult sometimes. phanpara might take a bit to load, and throw you out if the vpn disconnects, but as long as you just exit the app and change the vpn there shouldn’t be any issues. could be a little bothersome sometimes but you get used to it quickly!! just make sure that you’re connected to a vpn, enter phanpara, and play :33 for me it takes up roughly 5gbs of space, so make sure your phone can handle it!!

aaaaand that’s it <333 i’m sorry if this is just. gibberish 😭😭 or if i’m making it sound more complicated than it is …. and pls let me know if it works for you!!! i’d love to be friends in game if you make an account :33 then you’ll be able to use my gojo in battle … hehehe ……..

[this-is-krikkit]

Hii! If you're taking prompts then can you plz do some levihan on this:

'I've been born in the wrong timeline and the wrong gender!'

'And you realized that after sixteen years?'

hello! you're the first anon i don't feel i have to apologize to for taking too long to reply to a prompt lmao, hope you'll enjoy this!

of swords and crushes (1.4k words)

tags: levihan, modern AU (coffee shop AU if you squint), game of thrones references but you don't need to be a big fan to get em, GOT-typical violence mentioned

divider source

“I’m telling you, I was born in the wrong timeline and the wrong sex!” Hange exclaims, trading their branded apron for their civilian coat and giving a last minute check to the coffee shop for any obvious task they might have forgotten.

Levi clicks his tongue at them, not for the first time that day, and gestures for them to leave out the front door with him.

“And you only realized that after sixteen years, while watching a blockbuster series about sword fights and magic?”

“Yes! No? I don’t know, I just know I want to be a knight!” they whine, using the tone they know their coworker can hardly stand.

“You want to be a knight, or you want to do one of them?”

“Levi! How dare you put your dirty thoughts into my pure and innocent mind!”

“I may not watch that shit show myself, shitty glasses, but I’ve seen enough screen caps and memes to know no one innocent watches it. Not with those casting choices anyway.”

Hange’s glasses reflect the setting sun and hide their eyes even as they grin devilishly at him, and he groans at his own slip up.

“Oh, you’ve seen enough screen caps to have an opinion then? Tell me, which one strikes your fancy, Neat Freak? The sadist bastard who tortures people into becoming his slaves, or the annoyingly rich golden boy who had three kids with his own sister?”

He just stares at them for a minute, then shakes his head as he locks the front door.

“I swear this show gets worse every time I hear about it,” he mumbles under his breath. “Either way, the one I like best has green eyes, and I think his father was in Lord of The Rings or something?”

“Oh… You mean, Robb Stark?”

Levi glares their way, because how the fuck would he know, again? But Hange, as always immune to his stink eye, just pulls their phone out and hands it over after a quick search.

“Here, is that him? Oh my God, you’re blushing, it’s totally him!” they squeal before Levi can even confirm it with words.

“Shut up and help me pull this down,” he requests, gesturing to the iron shutter they have to secure before leaving. “He is cute,” he still feels the need to argue defensively as Hange complies.

They chuckle and bump their shoulder to his when they squat down to help him with the heavy padlock that secures the system in place.

“He is,” they agree with a reassuring smile, before letting a sigh out. “Shame that he dies in season three though.”

“What? I thought he was, like, the main character!”

“Well, he is, until, you know... he gets his throat slit at his cousin’s wedding, right after he sees his pregnant wife getting stabbed straight into her belly.”

Levi picks up his jaw from the floor and turns to face his coworker, waiting to see if there’s any chance they could be trying to pull one on him —they don’t usually have a strong enough poker face to actually trick him, but they’ve surprised him before in the year they’ve been sharing shifts on this shitty part time job.

“She dies too, of course! Along with everyone who was with them then,” Hange adds right away, like that’s somehow reassuring.

“Why the fuck do you watch this shit, Four Eyes?” he asks, genuinely confused about it all.

“Ah, sorry, I know you’re weird about this stuff. We can talk about something else if you want,” they offer with a sheepish smile, scratching the back of their neck in discomfort.

“I’m not weird about it,” Levi corrects, dismissing their concern with a wave of his hand, “and it’s fine to discuss. I just don’t like violence for the sake of violence, or for shock value. Feels lazy to me.”

“That’s not all there is to it!”

He gives them a pointed glance, and Hange has the decency to blush a little.

“Okay, it’s probably a big part of it… But the plot does justify it most of the time so far, and some characters are really interesting and fun to try to figure out, I think you’d enjoy it! Besides, the fighting scenes are so badass, Levi!”

They launch into a mock choreography of what he can only assume is one of those scenes, and Levi doesn’t bother holding back a chuckle as he walks alongside them. He ignores the puzzled looks from people who pass them by, throwing a glare or two whenever someone dares to stare for too long with judging eyes.

“How do you have so much energy after the shift you just pulled on top of a day in class, for fuck's sake? I really feel like I’m the older one here sometimes.”

And alright, Levi does have another, early and demanding job to go to while other kids his age are in school, which might explain his own state of tiredness. But Hange truly is something else, stamina-wise.

“That’s because you’re an old soul, Levi, whereas I’m brand new and enthusiastic about what the world has to offer! And about swords!”

“Yeah, right. Why don’t you sign up to fencing lessons and get it out of your system for good?”

“Sure, let me give up this side job I only took for the fun of it, ask my imaginary butler to fetch my thousand dollars allowance from my billionaire parents and I’ll do just that!”

He bites the inside of his cheek to prevent his smile from stretching too wide, even though he knows Hange will be able to tell they got him with that one anyway.

“Point taken,” he gives in.

The walk back to their subway station is silent, a little less comfortable than usual when they’re both painfully aware that Hange’s now thinking about their own financial issues —the unfortunate reason they even took this job and met Levi in the first place.

He looks around the industrial neighborhood they’re walking, and spots two long rusty metal pipes hanging out from a bin nearby. In a fit of renewed energy he didn’t suspect he could have, he rushes over there, grabs them —heavier than they look, but he knows they can both handle it— and throws one at Hange’s feet.

“Here you go, Sir Hange Zoë,” he declares, feeling absolutely ridiculous as he stands in what he hopes looks like a sword fighting position —he sure hopes Hange will give him a break, it’s not like he has a wide frame of reference for this. “Fight me.”

They chortle, the sound immediately brightening the mood —and Levi’s day.

“You don’t have to do this, Levi. You were right, it’s kind of childish.”

He frowns and charges, hitting their shin lightly with his shabby weapon. Hange’s eyebrows shoot up on their forehead, and he can tell they’re slowly giving in.

“Levi! You can’t attack a defenseless maiden, that’s not gentleman-y at all!”

“You’re not a maiden, dumbass. And who said I’m a gentleman?”

Next time he lunges, they block the blow thanks to their own pipe and send him stumbling back —with a force that would surprise anyone else considering how lanky they look in their baggy clothes, and a fire in their eyes that would no doubt freak them out too. Levi, however, has known for months now that the tall nerdy weirdo look is only a mask hiding a fierce, passionate kid who might just be the strongest person he’s ever met —in more ways than one.

Sadly, they’re also much more —how did they put it again? Oh, right— enthusiastic about the whole fighting thing than he’d foreseen, and he soon finds himself having an actual hard time holding them off. One of their well placed hits shatters the pipe he was holding in his hold, and he thanks his lucky star that the combat has to end as he puts both hands up.

“Alright, I yield! You’re right, Four Eyes, you would have made a great knight.”

“Thank you!” they reply with a wink and a graceless curtsy.

Hange throws their pipe back into the trash can, before holding out their hand to ask for the some of the hand gel Levi’s already rubbing on his palms. He throws them a disapproving look, more for show than anything else, and gives them some —really, he’s kind of excited that they’re finally getting some of his neat freak habits, as they always call them.

“So, I won, right?” they ask him when they start walking again.

“Tch, I guess you did,” he grants them, not up to point out how questionable that statement is when really, breaking your opponent’s weapon has to be against the rules, right?

“Then my prize is... that you have to watch the next season with me!”

He spends the rest of the walk and the three subway stations they share trying to get out of that commitment.

(He fails.)

[dearweirdme]

“which is basically proven by AYS where all Jm and Jk do is just eat and talk about how much they love to eat. "

Ok but Tae was in AYS too. How interesting were his interactions with Jk in AYS? Wasn’t he basically always on his phone? Wasn’t he the one going to bed earlier than everyone and was mostly quiet or on his phone while they had meals while Jimin and Jungkook interacted? Atleast Jimin and Jungkook actually spoke about something and laughed about silly things unlike Tae who looked like he would have preffered to be anywhere else. This isn’t me hating btw, just stating what I saw. If taekook were to have their own show who is to say it wouldn’t be the same way things were in AYS with Tae either spending all his time on his phone, going to bed earlier or just not participating much in conversations?

Hi anon!

I think Tae’s presence in AYS was actually a last minute insert, and him being there did not change that the focus of the series was Jm and Jk. All throughout Tae is referred to as a guest, his presence in it was also guest like. I think he himself also went into this as being a guest and also being able to do his own thing a bit. As a Tkkr, I believe he came along to be with Jk during their busy schedules.

But, you are not wrong. I think if Tae and Jk were to act naturally as if they actually were on holiday, we’d see a lot of sleeping, eating, relaxing, cuddling etc. Though they went skydiving in Hawaii, I don’t feel they go out of their way to be active all the time when traveling. Having said that, I don’t think we saw Jk and Jm act completely naturally as well. I think they were very aware of this being made for content and they acted accordingly. Had this been a Tae and Jk show, they would also have acted with the purpose of making content.

My point is basically that the content doesn’t really have to be that great for army to watch it. I enjoyed AYS a lot, but that’s mainly because I miss them and would watch anything they put out. Contentwise, I feel AYS wasn’t great. It was spread out a lot with many long takes of just them eating. If you are not an army, I don’t think AYS is entertaining. I don’t feel Jm and Jk had that many interesting conversations and it really shows that especially for Jk this was ill timed at times. Aside from some situations, I think it was too low on action and not informative enough to keep people entertained outside of army fandom. Which is fine! This was made for army knowing army just wants to see them.

I think ultimately this is due to it mostly being two people interacting. The Jeju episodes were a bit more fast paced because of there being three people and therefore more interactions to work with. Had they reduced the Sapporo and Ny episodes to one less, I think those would also have been more entertaining to watch.

[music-orthemisery]

Hi! While we somewhat on the subject of Patrick’s solo project, can we talk about the hidden track on SP? Like… your thoughts, feelings, theories? What do you see when you listen to it? What feelings are you experiencing when you’re listening to the sounds at the end of the track???

Of courseeee we can talk about Cryptozoology, anon! I’m assuming that’s what you’re referring to, at least.

First, I’ll punt over to this ask @earlgreytea68 answered about this song because I think both she and anon made some great points! I especially love EGT’s comment re: naming a hidden song “cryptozoology.” It’s just so clever!

In terms of my own thoughts, this song definitely presents a few layers to me. The most obvious being him speaking to the music industry and the public/fans in response to him being out on his own. In general, I think Patrick is generally lying out his ass when he says that SP is all metaphorical commentary on the industry/society/etc., but this is one place where I do think that’s accurate. Patrick was in a place where he was desperate to be seen as his own artist - someone who could work magic without Pete and no longer be limited by the confines of FOB.

In terms of the visuals (the cryptozoology of it all), in my head this is Patrick being self-deprecating in a tongue-in-cheek way. He spent years being the guy in Pete Wentz’s shadow, and the ways he’d be described were rarely kind. You’d see nerdy, fat, unattractive, shy, etc. - which would then be paired with commentary on how he’s the primary songwriter and how “despite his looks” he’s essentially the hit factory.

So, now we have this guy emerging from the shadows. This guy who, compared to Pete, was less known, kinda weird looking, and, therefore, more mysterious…what could he bring to the table by himself? Who is Patrick Stump without Pete Wentz? Them being apart practically makes him a Cryptid because it just didn’t exist untold then. It was always at least the two of them.

There’s also the lyrics, “They got the search party looking for the ghost of the child/But what if he grew up? He never died.” Which is….ugh…basically pariah before pariah. I think his perspective here was more defiant (compared to pariah’s defeat), though. Like, ok, I’m being told that the only good I’ve created is shit I created when I was 18, but fuck that. I grew up and I’m here whether you like it or not and I’m not going to keep trying to please you. I’m going to create what I want to create. I don’t need to prove myself to you!

And, yes, that second part is also being spoken to Pete IMO. EGT’s ask that I linked to above echos my general thoughts on that aspect so I won’t go into it much more here.

Of course I need to acknowledge some p2-ness of it, tough, so I’ll focus on the source of Patrick’s bitterness here.

First off, I do not think Patrick was jealous of Pete’s attention. There is not a single thing about Patrick Stump that points to him wanting to be on the same level of fame and attention as Pete was back then.

In fact, going back to my earlier point about him emerging from Pete’s shadow - I’d argue that he was totally fine being in Pete’s “shadow” before, because I don’t think that’s how he saw it. Maybe he didn’t have words for it yet, but it goes back to what they still do now, which is protect each other. He wasn’t in Pete’s shadow. He was the reason he was able to put it all out there musically. They were doing it TOGETHER.

So, in my eyes, Patrick’s bitterness toward Pete, stemmed primarily from abandonment. His creative (and general life, ofc) soulmate had been punted into a completely different reality. Gone were the days where the two of them would spend hours writing and bickering and creating. Even starting in IOH era, there was tension building between them due to Pete’s obligations were taking him away from the studio. They weren’t doing this thing together anymore. Patrick was having to forge on “alone.” Not literally, of course, but I think you get where I’m going with this.

Additionally, referring back to the beloved Zane Lowe interview, Pete’s lyrics give Patrick purpose. Their creative energy is what gets him up in the morning. So, in Patrick’s words, not only was he losing Pete, he was losing his purpose.

(In my delusion p2 brain, IOH is also when the tensions of “what the fuck are we?” And Pete having to live up to the “Hollywood hottie” persona began. That’s a whooooole other post in itself that I’ve talked about a few times before but just had to throw that in there of course.)

So, this is both processing his emergence as his own person to the media and public, but also to Pete. I don’t need to prove myself to you. I don’t need you. I can do this all on my own.

In terms of feelings I experience, what I see, etc…I admittedly tend to intellectualize those things rather than fully acknowledge and experience them, so honestly the above answer probably best captures that as well, haha. Oh, and no clue about the outro sounds. I’m sure someone smarter than me may have some thoughts on that, but in my head Patrick is just playing into the Cryptid/hidden element with some sounds 🤷‍♀️

Anyway, I could yap forever about this but I’ll leave it there. Great question, anon! Thank you! Definitely gave me something to ponder during work today, haha!