#in my feels questioning if I’m a bad friend or not

[bsturnzmtts]

Friends? - Matt Sturniolo

Re uploaded because my account bsturnzmtt got deactivated :( Please follow and let me know if you want to be in my tag list !

(A/n: on my last account I posted this in two parts here it’s all in one part)

Paring: bsf!Matt x bsf! Reader

Contains/warnings: p in v, use of vibrator, oral, fingering, teasing, pet names

Summary: Your best friend Matt finds your vibrator...

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

Your best friend Matt is staying over at your place for a sleepover, this is very common in your friendship. Another thing that’s common is flirting and teasing, but you two decided that it was platonic although sometimes it doesn’t look like it…

Right now you two are laying in your bed already in pjs exchanging weird questions and thoughts.

“Matt ass or tits?” You ask him as you laugh.

Laughs mischievously, turning to face you “Oh, real mature...” he smirks “Well, if we're playing that game...” Looks at you up and down briefly teasing you before continuing “I'd have to sayyyy tits”

You nod as you hear his answer. “Hm yeah, I had a feeling” you say as you chuckle.

Giggles mischievously “Oh really?...” He leans in a bit closer, the room dimly lit “So you think about my preferences like that, huh?”

You roll your eyes “Ughh nope, never said that”

“Mhm...” He pokes your side playfully “Liar...” His grin widens, teeth glinting in the low light. “But for real, if we're asking personal questions...” He pauses, tilts his head slightly. “What's your biggest turn-on?”

You laugh at his question. “Yeah I’m not answering that” you sit up on the bed. “I’m going to the bathroom” you say before getting up and going to the bathroom.

Matt only smirks as you exit the room because it means he has time to snoop around your stuff.

As soon as you leave the room, Matt's curiosity gets the better of him. He quietly gets out of bed and starts searching your room. He opens your drawers, at the third drawer his eyes immediately land on a medium sized box. His eyes glint with curiosity and he decides to open it… As he opens it the box reveals a very intimate object, a vibrator.

Matt's eyebrows shoot up in surprise as he sees the vibrator. A mischievous grin spreads across his face. He picks it up, examining it with a playful smirk. Then he decides to tease you about it but not yet, so he puts it in his pocket for now.

You exit the bathroom and go back to your bed, sitting and resting your back in the headboard.

Matt jumps back into bed, acting nonchalant. He grins mischievously at you. "Took you long enough, I was getting bored without you."

“Yeah yeah, I know you can’t live without me” you answer.

He leans against the headboard next to you, mirroring your posture. "Well, not completely untrue..." He drags out the last word, then playfully nudges your shoulder with his. "So... Where were we before you so rudely left me?"

“Hmmmm” you pretend to think “I don’t remember”

He chuckles and shakes his head, reaching out to gently tug on your hair. "Liar," he says softly, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "You know exactly what we were talking about before you left." He pauses, his gaze lingering on yours. "The biggest turn-on question, remember?"

“Ohhh yeah now I remember, and I also remember telling you that I’m not answering that” you respond.

Matt laughs, leaning in closer. "Come on, it's just me." He playfully nudges your arm. "I promise I won't judge... Unless it's something really weird, like feet or something."

“Ewww noo, I don’t even know my answer”

He raises an eyebrow skeptically. "Oh really? You mean to tell me the great Y/n doesn't know what gets her all hot and bothered?" He smirks, his voice lowering teasingly. "I find that hard to believe."

“Why’d you wanna know so bad anyways?” You ask raising your eyebrows teasingly.

Matt's grin widens, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Oh, you know... Just trying to learn more about my favorite person." He reaches out to boop your nose playfully. "Plus, it's fun to get under your skin a little." He winks.

“Well next question, cause I’m not answering that one”

He chuckles, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright, I get it. You're a closed book." He leans back, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm”

“Wait why don’t you answer your own question”

Matt's eyes light up with a playful challenge. "Oh ho! Trying to turn the tables on me, are you?" He grins, considering for a moment. "But that’s not how it works, I’ll only answer if you answer"

“Yeah, cause yours is probably some weird shit” You laugh and nudge him.

Matt laughs, feigning offense. "Hey, hey! I'll have you know my turn-ons are perfectly normal!" He smirks, his gaze flicking down to your lips briefly. "Mostly..." His eyes glint mischievously as he looks back up at you.

You turn your head to face him, your faces are now close. “uh huh… sure they are” you smirk.

Matt's smirk grows wider, his face inches from yours. He reaches out to gently brush a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingertips grazing your skin. "Let's just say I have a thing for smart mouths and stubborn personalities," he murmurs, his breath whispering against your lips.

Your faces are now really close and the tension is definitely there. “Yeah?” You ask teasingly.

Matt's eyes lock onto yours, his gaze intense. He leans in closer, his lips almost touching yours. "Yeah," he breathes, his voice low and husky. Just as he's about to kiss you, he pauses, a playful glint in his eye.

Your eyes roam down to his lips before facing away.

Matt chuckles softly, noticing your gaze. "Tease," he murmurs, but there's no real annoyance in his tone. He then reaches into his pocket pulling out the vibrator, dangling it in front of you teasingly. He chuckles mischievously. “I must admit, I’m quite curious how you use this…”

Your eyes turn to look at him and they immediately widen in shock seeing the object in Matts hands.

Matt grins wickedly, clearly enjoying your shocked expression. "What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" He dangles the vibrator playfully, his eyes never leaving yours. "I found this in your nightstand earlier. Quite the interesting discovery, wouldn't you say?"

“Ugh how did you find that? But it back” you as you try to reach for it.

Matt holds it out of reach, laughing at your futile attempt. "Ah, ah, ah," he teases, holding the vibrator just out of your grasp. "You're going to have to do better than that." His gaze drops to your chest, appreciatively.

“Maaaatt come on” you try harder to reach it.

Matt takes a step back, easily keeping the toy out of reach. "Not until you answer my question," he says, grinning mischievously. "I mean, I'm curious. How do you like to use it? Slow and gentle, or hard and fast?"

“Ugh” you lean back giving up. “I-… I haven’t used it, it’s new”

Matt's grin widens, clearly pleased with himself for getting you to admit it. "New, huh?" He pockets the vibrator, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Well, since it's new, I think it's only fair that I show you how to use it properly."

“Ha ha funny” you roll your eyes at his words “now give it back”

Matt ignores your demand, instead wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close. "Oh, I am dead serious," he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. "In fact, I think we should try it out right now." His hand slowly slides down your side, his touch gentle.

“Matt-“ you try your say something be he doesn’t let you.

“Shhhhh” He leans in, pressing soft kisses along your neck and collarbone. His hands explore your body slowly, learning every curve.

His touch is gentle yet firm, leaving goosebumps in its wake. His hands gradually move towards the bottom of your shirt slowly, playing with the hem of your shirt. His kisses trailing downwards. He looks up at you, his eyes filled with desire. "Tell me to stop if you want me to," he whispers, his voice hoarse.

You could feel your body heating up in desire. “Don’t stop” you shyly respond with a whisper.

Matt smiles against your skin, his hands slipping under your shirt and caressing your bare stomach. He continues his explorations, his hands gliding up your sides and cupping your breasts through your bra. He looks up at you, seeking approval, his fingers tracing the lace edge of your bra. You give him a small nod of approval.

Matt takes that as permission, unhooking your bra with expert fingers. He slides the straps down your shoulders, his touch reverent as he bares you to him. He leans down, capturing one hard peak in his mouth. He sucks gently, his tongue swirling around the bud.

You bite and close your eyes as you feel his tongue flicking the sensitive bud. ���Mmhh”.

Matt hums against your skin, the vibrations adding to the sensation. He switches to the other breast, giving it the same attention. His hands continue to explore, caressing down your sides and slipping into the waistband of your silk pijama shorts. He looks up at you, his eyes filled with desire. Your eyes full of lust and desire meets his.

Matt's hands slide further into your shorts, his fingers brushing against your warm core. He looks at you, seeking permission, which you approve, his fingers gently parting your folds. He bites his lip as he feels how wet you are, his thumb rubbing gentle circles against your clit. "So wet for me already,"

You let out small whimpers as you feel his fingers.

Matt grins wickedly, his fingers slipping inside of you. "Let's see how you take this shall we?" He pulls his hand out from your shorts and takes them off along with you panties leaving you exposed. Then he retrieves the vibrator from his pocket. He turns it on, the hum of the toy filling the room.

He runs the vibrator along your inner thighs, the cool surface sending shivers down your spine. He presses it against your clit, the vibrations making you jerk in surprise. "Oh fuck, look at you," he whispers, his eyes glued to the toy as it buzzes against your sensitive nub.

You whimper and moan as your body squirm. “Mmh fuck Matt”

Matt smirks at your reaction, pressing the vibrator harder against you. His other hand slides down, two fingers slipping inside your tight heat. "That's it baby, let me hear you," he growls, his fingers pumping in and out of you.

“Oh fuck” you moan loudly as you feel his fingers stretching you out.

Matt's fingers curl up, finding that sweet spot inside of you. He presses the vibrator harder against you, increasing the speed. His eyes flick up to your face, taking in your flushed cheeks and dilated pupils. "Look at you, taking it so well,"

“Mh Matt I’m so close” you whine and whimper pathetically.

Matt's grin widens, his fingers and the vibrator working in perfect harmony. "Come on baby, let it happen," he encourages, his voice low and husky. He adds a third finger, scissoring them inside of you as he increases the speed of the vibrator.

“Fuck Matt” you moan as you cum.

Matt holds you steady as your orgasm rips through you, the vibrator still buzzing against your clit. He keeps his fingers pumping inside of you, milking out every last drop of your climax. As you slowly come down, he turns off the vibrator and gently pulls his fingers out of your trembling pussy.

He leans up and captures your mouth in a searing kiss. "You're so responsive," he whispers against your lips, nuzzling your neck. "I'm not done with you yet." He starts unbuckling his belt, his eyes filled with determination. "I need to be inside you."

Matt finishes unbuckling his belt and unbuttons his pants, shoving them down along with his boxers. He steps out of them, standing naked before you. His hard length juts out, curving slightly upwards. He steps back between your spread thighs, wrapping his hands around your hips.

Your eyes widen at his length. “Fuck Matt… I don’t think it’s going to fit”

Matt chuckles, positioning himself at your entrance. "Oh, it'll fit. I'll make sure of that." He rubs the tip of his cock up and down your slit, coating himself in your wetness.

He slowly pushes into you, his hands gripping your hips. He looks into your eyes, his own filled with concentration. "You're so tight," he grinds out, inching deeper and deeper. He pauses halfway, letting you adjust to his size. "Okay?" he asks, his voice strained.

“Mmh mhm hurts a bit, but it’s okay” you reassure him.

Matt nods, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. He starts to move, slowly at first. He pulls out almost all the way before sliding back in, stretching you deliciously. His hips set a steady rhythm, each thrust pushing him deeper.

Then quickly the pain turned into pure pleasure. “Mmh fuck Matt”.

Matt's pace quickens as he feels your body relax around him. He hooks your legs over his shoulders, allowing him to go even deeper. The new angle has him hitting your g-spot with each thrust. "Fuck, you feel amazing," he groans, his hips snapping against yours.

“Ohhh god Matt” you keep moaning and whimpering.

Matt leans down, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. His tongue delves into your mouth, tangling with yours. He swallows your moans as he continues his relentless pace. His free hand slides between your bodies, finding your clit and rubbing it in tight circles.

Your back arches in pleasure “mmh I’m close”

Matt breaks the kiss, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "Come on, baby," he urges, his fingers rubbing your clit furiously. "Cum all over my cock." He thrusts deep one last time, grinding against your g-spot as he hits your sweet spot.

“Fuuuuccckk” you moan loudly as you cum and your body shudders.

Matt lets out a low groan, feeling your walls spasm around him. He grinds against you, drawing out your release. He can feel his own release building, his body tensing as he nears the edge. With one final, deep thrust, Matt buries himself inside you and explodes, his hot seed filling your pussy. He collapses on top of you, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath. He wraps his arms around you, holding you close as he stays buried inside you. "Fuck,"

Matt nuzzles into your neck, pressing soft kisses to your sweat-slicked skin. "You okay?" he murmurs, his voice low and slightly hoarse. He slowly pulls out of you, his softened cock slipping free.

Your still breathless but you still give him a reassuring nod. “Mhm”

Matt rolls to the side, pulling you into his arms. He brushes a strand of hair from your face, his fingers trailing down your cheek. "That was incredible," he says with a satisfied grin. He leans in, capturing your lips in a tender kiss.

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

Taglist: @blahbel668 @bernardsbendystraws @sturnzsblog @deffonotjae @suyqa

@mattsturniololover1@mattsturniolosgf

@mattsturnihoe @annsx03

@imjusthereforthesturniolosmut

@strnzzvsp@|34n@mattsfavbitchhh

@chr1sgirl4life

@yourenogoodforme-blog@mattshighway

@lauren-222 @sivtformatts @megamorgan44

@sturnsxbith @pixiespax @xaristhings

@slutforsturnioloss @ariestrxsh

@sucretwin @tisiablack @sturniololover69

@lianomer @wakeupitschrizz

@jessie-essie @freshlov3 @sturniolofreakk @lydi2718 @chrisstvrns

@le4hsblog @pip4444chris@chris-hallelujah @esioleren @namelesssav

@ilovemenwithlonghairr @ribreadO3 @valkatriee

@sturniolofreakk @izzylovesmatt

@lolastrniolo @pip4444chris @idrk2292

@strnilolover @2prcntmilkluvr @chrisslvtxx

@madifilipowiczslvt @strvnolin

@nelxoxo14

[rafeskai]

Soft Spot — Rafe Cameron

Requested by @a-j-stuffs

Summary: One wild summer night, a bonfire turns intense, shaking up the dynamic between you and your lifelong friend, Rafe Cameron. When things get out of hand, emotions spill over, and the bond you’ve always shared starts to feel… different. As you deal with the fallout, layers you didn’t know existed start peeling back, showing a side of Rafe you hadn’t fully seen before. It’s a mix of fear, loyalty, and something deeper brewing under the surface. What happens next makes you question everything about where the two of you really stand.

Pairings: Rafe Cameron x Kook!Reader

Warnings: profanities, violence, implied smut

The rivalry between the Kooks and Pogues was just part of life on the Outer Banks, but you had always thought it was ridiculous. Growing up as part of the Figure Eight elite came with its own perks and pressures, but you never saw yourself as better than anyone else. That mindset earned you side-eyes from both Kooks and Pogues, though you didn’t care much—especially now that Sarah Cameron’s relationship with John B had brought you closer to the so-called enemy.

Still, your longest friendships were with the boys you grew up with—Rafe Cameron, Topper Thornton, and Kelce. The trio had been a constant in your life since childhood. Even with their egos and bad decisions, you knew they had your back. Rafe especially had always been different with you. Your families were close, and that bond extended to the two of you. Beneath his rough edges and impulsive nature, Rafe was someone you trusted—a boy who seemed to turn into a better version of himself when you were around.

Tonight’s bonfire was supposed to be a distraction. The kind of wild, chaotic gathering where the lines between Kooks and Pogues blurred just enough for everyone to coexist. Sarah had convinced you to come, promising she’d stick by your side.

“Just an hour,” she’d said, grinning as she grabbed your hand and led you toward the glowing fire.

But Sarah had a habit of getting caught up in her own world, and the moment John B arrived, she was gone. You didn’t mind at first. The air was warm, the music loud, and the fire crackled against the night sky. It was the kind of summer night that should have felt perfect.

Until he showed up.

The man wasn’t someone you recognized—tall, with a rough edge to his features and a sloppiness to his movements that screamed drunk. His clothes were Kook-preppy, but his demeanor was far from charming.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he slurred, his grin too wide as he stepped into your space. “Why’re you standing here all alone?”

You took a small step back, clutching your red Solo cup tighter. “I’m not alone,” you said evenly. “Just waiting for someone.”

“Oh, yeah? Who?” he asked, swaying slightly but still managing to block your path.

You glanced around the crowd, hoping to spot someone—anyone—familiar. “My friends,” you lied.

His grin twisted, and he leaned closer, the smell of alcohol heavy on his breath. “C’mon, don’t play hard to get. You don’t have to pretend.”

“I’m not interested,” you said firmly, trying to step around him, but he grabbed your arm before you could.

His grip was rough, and it made your stomach drop. “Don’t be like that,” he said, his voice darkening. “You’re too pretty to be so cold.”

Your chest tightened. “Let go of me.”

The man didn’t listen. Instead, he tightened his grip and pulled you closer, his other hand brushing against your shoulder. “Relax, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

The lie shattered the moment he yanked you hard, his fingers digging into your arm. You stumbled, the pain sharp enough to make you cry out.

“Stop!” you said, your voice cracking, but he ignored you.

The panic surged like a tidal wave, your breaths coming in short, shallow gasps. You tried to twist out of his grip, but he was too strong. His hand moved to your waist, and fear turned your legs to jelly.

“HEY!”

The shout came from behind you, and the man froze. You turned your head just enough to see Topper running toward you, his face a mix of shock and fury.

“Get your hands off her!” Topper bellowed, closing the distance in seconds.

The man released you abruptly, his grip leaving your arm throbbing. You stumbled backward, nearly falling before Topper caught you.

“Stay here,” Topper said, his voice tight with anger as he turned and bolted back toward the fire.

Moments later, Rafe appeared, his eyes scanning the scene. When they landed on you, his expression changed. The anger in his face turned cold, deadly.

“Who?” he demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

You didn’t have to say anything. Rafe’s gaze shifted to the man, who was already trying to slink back into the crowd. Without another word, Rafe stormed toward him, his entire body radiating fury.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Rafe growled, shoving the man hard.

The stranger stumbled, muttering something incoherent before straightening up. “It’s not a big deal, man,” he slurred. “She’s just being a prude.”

The words barely left his mouth before Rafe swung. His fist connected with the man’s jaw, the force sending him to the ground.

“Rafe, stop!” you screamed, your voice breaking, but he didn’t hear you.

Rafe was on top of him, fists flying in a blur of rage. Each punch landed with a sickening crack, blood splattering against the sand.

“She said no!” Rafe roared, his voice shaking with fury.

It took both Topper and Kelce to pull him off. Even then, Rafe fought against their grip, his chest heaving and his knuckles coated in blood.

The man groaned, clutching his face as he lay motionless in the sand.

“Let’s get out of here,” Topper muttered, pulling Rafe back as Kelce threw an arm around your shoulders protectively.

The four of you left the bonfire behind, the chaos fading as you walked toward the quieter part of the beach.

Rafe finally turned to you, his expression softening as he saw the tears in your eyes. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice low and rough.

You nodded, but the truth was written all over your face. Your hands were still shaking, your arm throbbing where the man had grabbed you. “You didn’t have to do that,” you whispered.

Rafe’s jaw tightened. “Yes, I did. He hurt you. He scared you.”

You didn’t have the energy to argue. Instead, you reached for his hand, wincing at the sight of his split knuckles. “You’re hurt,” you murmured, your voice trembling.

“It’s nothing,” he muttered, but he didn’t pull away as you dabbed at the blood with a tissue.

“Let’s go.” He intertwines his hand with yours and leads you to your car.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The walk back to your car was silent, tension weaving itself between you and Rafe. Topper and Kelce had disappeared somewhere along the way, leaving just the two of you under the soft glow of the moon. The waves crashed gently in the background, but the sound did little to calm your nerves.

Rafe had barely spoken since leaving the bonfire, his knuckles still bloodied from the fight. Every few steps, you stole a glance at him, the hard line of his jaw and the storm brewing behind his blue eyes making your stomach twist.

You reached your car and hesitated, fumbling with your keys. “Rafe, let me drive you home,” you offered softly.

He shook his head. “Not yet.”

“What do you mean, ‘not yet’?” you asked, glancing up at him.

“I’m not leaving you alone tonight,” he said firmly, his voice low but resolute.

You didn’t have the energy to argue. Nodding, you unlocked the car, and the two of you climbed in. The silence followed you the whole drive to your house, broken only by the occasional deep breath Rafe took to calm himself.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The drive to your house was quiet, the tension between you and Rafe thick enough to cut with a knife. His hands, bloodied and bruised, rested on his lap as he stared out the window, his jaw clenched tight. You wanted to say something, but the words caught in your throat every time you opened your mouth.

When you finally reached your place, you parked the car and turned to him. “Come inside,” you said softly.

Rafe hesitated, his gaze flicking to you before nodding. “Okay.”

The house was dark and still, the only sound the faint creak of the floorboards as you led him to the living room. You flicked on a small lamp, casting a warm glow over the room, and gestured for him to sit on the couch.

“I’m fine,” he muttered, but you gave him a look that stopped him in his tracks.

“Sit,” you repeated, your tone leaving no room for argument.

With a reluctant sigh, Rafe sat down, leaning back against the cushions as you disappeared into the bathroom. When you returned with the first aid kit, his eyes softened just a little, the hard edges of his expression giving way to something gentler.

You knelt in front of him, taking his hand carefully in yours. His knuckles were split and raw, and blood smeared across his skin like war paint. “This is going to sting,” you warned, dabbing a cotton pad soaked in antiseptic against the wounds.

Rafe flinched slightly but said nothing, his eyes fixed on you as you worked. The silence between you was heavy, but it wasn’t uncomfortable.

“Why do you always do this?” you asked quietly, breaking the stillness.

“Do what?”

“Fight. Lose your temper. Get yourself hurt.” Your voice trembled slightly, betraying the emotions you were trying to keep in check.

Rafe exhaled slowly, his shoulders slumping. “Because I have to,” he said finally, his voice low.

“You don’t have to,” you argued, meeting his gaze. “You choose to. But why?”

His jaw clenched, and for a moment, you thought he wouldn’t answer. Then he sighed, his eyes softening as they locked with yours.

“Because it’s you,” he said simply. “You’re the only one who makes me feel like I’m not completely fucked up.”

Your breath hitched at his words, your chest tightening as you tried to process them. “Rafe…”

“You’re the only good thing in my life,” he continued, his voice raw. “And I can’t stand the thought of anyone hurting you. Not ever.”

The vulnerability in his voice broke something in you. For years, you’d seen glimpses of the real Rafe—the one who hid behind bravado and anger—but hearing him lay it all out like this was overwhelming.

“I don’t know what to say,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he murmured, his hand reaching up to cup your face. “Just let me…”

He didn’t finish the sentence, but you didn’t need him to. His lips brushed against yours, soft and tentative at first, as if he was giving you time to pull away. But you didn’t. Instead, you leaned into him, your hands finding their way to his chest as the kiss deepened.

The air between you crackled with a tension that had been building for years, a mix of desire, anger, and unspoken emotions. Rafe’s hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice husky as he pulled back just enough to look into your eyes.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you nodded. “Yeah,” you whispered, your voice steady despite the nerves buzzing under your skin.

Rafe’s lips curved into a small, almost shy smile before he kissed you again, his hands tightening around you as he guided you onto the couch. The world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you tangled together in the soft glow of the lamplight, the unspoken promise of something more lingering in the air.

© 2024 rafeskai | All rights reserved. This fanfiction is a work of fiction inspired by characters from Outer Banks, and no part of it may be reproduced or distributed without permission.

[vvinirl]

bucky. b

bucky called you up to his apartment because he had a bad day at work so you were expecting to be hanging out with him, that’s what you thought

but when you got there he was basically helpless and laying on his bed

he swear he was so tired and couldn’t get up cause everything was sore

you just rolled your eyes and offered to help him clean off some of his wounds and bruises he got from today’s mission

you then led him to the bathroom and began to help him out of the rest of his clothes

“what’re you doing?”

“you said you needed help right? so i’m helping you”

“you’re gonna help me.. shower?”

“yep. now stop asking questions”

you rolled your eyes as you helped him out of his clothes, you were a little nervous, cause i mean it’s not everyday you help your best friend shower

after undressing him you tried to not look down cause you didn’t wanna be disrespectful or make it seem like you were trying to take a peek at his privates

you tried keeping eye contact with him as you begin to undress too

he caught onto your drift and reached out to help you, “here let me” he murmured as he helped you slip your shirt off and your pants

he then tugged at the hem of your panties as you let them drop to your ankles before stepping out of them

the tension between the two of you was thick as you both made heavy and unbreakable eye contact

he moved closer to you, his fingers ghosting over your collarbones as he reached behind you to unclasp your bra

he was trying so hard to be respectful and not look or just give them one little squeeze

you grabbed his hand as you led him into the shower

it was one of those fancy showers that had the thick glass sliding doors and multiple water settings and sensors

it’s been quiet the last few minutes, the only thing in the bathroom was you and bucky’s breathing. turning on the shower, you turned back around to face him as the hot water hits your back

you didn't mean to but your eyes went straight down to bucky’s erection, you looked up quickly before he caught you staring

bucky grabs the lofa and puts soap on it, rubbing it together so it can get soapy and foamy before he starts to gently and slowly rub your body with the lofa, only this time he wasn't hiding the fact that he was definitely admiring your body

"i should be the one taking care of you" you chuckled slightly

"i don't mind, i wanna take care of you right now", bucky replies back and gives you a reassuring smile as he steps closer to you, grabbing your waist after putting the lofa away

when he whispers your name you couldn't wait any longer, you leaned in and your smashed your lips against his

he wastes no time in kissing you back hungrily as he pulled you closer, leaving no space between you too

you moan into the kiss as he’s inserting his tongue into your mouth, licking and sucking on your tongue, sloppily kissing you

you moan in between kisses as he picks you up and you wrap your legs around him instantly

he puts you up against the shower glass, his cock easily slipping inside you with ease

"fuck bucky", you whimpered as he’s already starting to slowly move inside you, his cock slipping in and out of you with ease as he stretches your walls out

"keep saying my name like that” his lips attaching to your neck to leave kisses and bite marks

you throw your head back in pleasure, one arm around his neck as you held onto him while the other claws as his back

your toes curl due to the pleasure as your back arches off the shower glass

"you feel so good" bucky moans against your neck and then bites down on your shoulder, trying to stifle his own moans as his cock fills you up repeatedly

he leans his head down to look down at the way his cock is moving in and out of you, smirking to himself as he sees the outline of his cock inside you

he thrusts starts to speed up as it creates squelching noises, the sound overtaking the sound from the shower, along with the sound of your moans

your walls squeeze around him as he hits that sweet spot inside you repeatedly, “shit she’s squeezing me so good, gonna me cum just from it”

your only responses to him were broken moans as he praised you, kissing all over your neck and leaving a few hickeys on your breasts

“m’gonna cum buck” your legs wrap around him tightly as you pulled him flush against you, your cunt sucking him in even more

“fuck doll if you keep holding onto me like this i won’t be able to pull out”

you didn’t care if he pulled out or not, hell you wanted him to fill you up even more

a few sloppy thrusts from bucky and your kissing him as you come undone in his arms, creaming all over his cock as he soon follows you too

pushing in deeper as his warm seed fills you up, delivering a few more thrusts as he fucks his cum into you

he just holds you there as you both continued to kiss, not wanting to pull away from the kiss or out of you

[yourstarstruckbeloved]

kriti; an ode to devotion

dr. ratio x fem!reader, in which ratio finds himself absolutely smitten for a musician from earth.

content/warnings: 1.4k words, reader is very very feminine, referred to with she/her, reader is also indian and a maestro at indian classical music, i made this purely as a self-indulgent self-insert piece, religious imagery/writing, good ol’ potential ooc dr. ratio warning, he does not know ANYTHING about indian classical music or hindu culture, a few sanskrit terms used

author’s note: aaaah i can’t stop thinking about how dr. ratio would absolutely just fall in love with people passionate for their lines of work. i know this is pretty much just a self insert of my own but the thought of ratio with an s/o devoted to music or dance is so... <3

ratio feels like he’s sighed for the millionth time today. “didn’t you find someone else to do your bidding, gambler?” his question is met with a resounding and joyful nope! from aventurine, who drags him into the crowded theatre. “i had two tickets for this show because my friend was very kind. but no one else could make it on such short notice,” the blonde says, the smile never leaving his face. “so, i’m glad you came with me, doctor. ah! two empty seats! lucky us, eh?”

“whatever.”

ratio can’t say he’s the biggest fan of music— he dabbles in it from time to time, but nothing too much. it it weren’t for the gambler’s insistence, he would currently have been home and indulging in a relaxing bath; but alas, aventurine always gets what he wants. “i’m surprised you even have friends with a personality as repulsive as yours.”

“that hurt, you know,” aventurine says, clutching at his chest and forcing a pained expression onto his face. “do you really think i’m that bad?”

“no, i just think you are an idiot. or that the friends you have are equally as repulsive as you.”

the chatter around him turns into static white noise and he stares emptily at the blank stage, numbers and letters going left and right and center in his brain. the frustrating proof that the doctor had been trying to work on for weeks now is making a resurgence in his head. well, on second thought, maybe it’s not so bad that he got dragged out… perhaps, the doctor could make use of this opportunity to unplug and relax a bit. maybe the gambler isn’t so much of an idiot after all (aventurine knows, but he won’t let up).

ratio is snapped out of his daze as the curtains draw to a close, the stage now hidden behind them. a good portion of the crowd silences, in anticipation of the performance that was about to begin any second now. he heaves a sigh when the curtains reopen, a subconsciously bated breath being released.

in the middle of the stage sits a woman wearing a rich blue… robe? stole? no, it’s probably a saree, he surmises. “that’s her!” aventurine says excitedly with a gasp. “do you see her, doctor?” the soft light falling on the woman seems to reflect off of her in a subtle shine. almost like an ethereal goddess... “yes, i do, aventurine, i am not blind. i’m actually surprised you have friends from earth, of all planets.”

and ratio truly was genuinely surprised— not because he truly believed that aventurine’s personality would be an obstacle between him and his friendships, but because as far as he knew, earth was one of those tiny planets in a remote arm of the milky way galaxy. the people of earth tended to have their own cultures and gods that they worshipped instead of the aeons, and all of this differed widely between major regions on the planet. the… earthlings? well, in any case, they rarely ever travelled outside of their home planet— the maximum they usually ever went was within their planetary system. maybe they’re finally beginning to get out of their comfort zone? no one knows for sure.

the chatter of the crowd gradually dies down as three others assemble next to the woman with their instruments. she takes a sip from the bottle that lay next to her, and ratio notices the slight motion she makes with her hand. he assumes this was to get the show going, because the instrumentalists began playing their parts. they start with a monotonous and constant drone, after which the other stringed instrumentalist joins along with the harmonium player— and finally, you. ratio finds his interest piqued— he does not know much about earth and its customs and cultures.

you take a breath and you start singing. you start off slow and mellow, but ratio can feel the intensity and tempo of the performance gradually increasing— and with it, the intricacies of phrases that you’re singing. he finds it infuriatingly captivating, the way you jump through the chromatic scale with ease, like a deer prancing about in the forest. he wonders if you speak in melody.

ratio swears it’s the most masterful thing he’s ever listened to. he’s never listened to this kind of music ever in his life before, he knows nothing. it’s not as big as a choir or orchestra— and yet, he finds it amazing, the ease with which you conduct everyone with a flick of your hand. no… it’s not conducting. it seemed too unauthoritative to be. honestly, he has a lot of questions but for now he lets himself think of it simply for what it probably was— a well coordinated performance (and he would not be wrong to think of it that way either).

the skillful gliding of your voice has ratio enamoured. he finds it impressive, how easily you seem to be gliding over three octaves of notes without breaking out into as much as a sweat. he can only imagine the years and years of practice that must have gone into gaining such mastery— you make it look as easy as breathing. he would be lying if he said he didn’t find it attractive to some degree at the very least.

it takes him completely by surprise when you look in his direction and shoot your biggest most saccharine smile ever. and then he remembers about your supposed friendship with the man next to him and realises that it wasn’t for him. the gambler wasn’t lying, eh? who was ratio kidding, you didn’t even know him.

but he’s starting to become far gone. ratio isn’t a sapiosexual or whatever, by any means, even if he comes off as such. he knows that people think he would only be willing to date someone who has more phds than he does, but that’s not true at all. ratio believes that one must be passionate about anything that they choose to do. ultimately, that’s really what gets him hooked. he’s absolutely taking delight in looking at the fruits of your years of devotion to your art. and you, your performance is so enchanting it almost hurts. he feels like a dazed sailor drawn to a siren.

heh, it wouldn’t be so bad if the siren was you, he thinks, but immediately cringes at the thought afterward, discarding it into some corner of his brain he hopes to never see again.

oh, aventurine isn’t blind to any of this. he looks at the doctor’s eyes glued onto the stage with hyperfocus, and laughs. he doesn’t miss the way his grip on the armrests grow tighter and tighter, the flexing and tensing of his muscles obvious. who would’ve thought that his musician friend from earth of all people would’ve had the doctor whipped? he supposes it wasn’t a bad decision to bring ratio along, after all.

the audience bursts into thunderous clapping once you hit the end of your performance. ratio almost thought there was going to be no end to it— not that he’d complain though, it would’ve given him more time to study your performance, your art, more time to study you. “that was… that was a splendid performance. i wasn’t expecting to find myself hooked onto a musical of all things, seems like you aren’t completely bad, gambler.” ratio is completely candid with his compliment.

“oh, i know how much you enjoyed this,” aventurine says rather suggestively, catching the doctor off-guard. “hey, i’m going into the backstage to meet her— would you like to tag along?”

ratio is elated at the offer. of course he’d want to meet you, he’s got so many questions and— “sure…” his expression remains as stoic as ever. he’s always been able to count on himself but now? he hopes his deadpan image isn’t betrayed by his feelings, and he finds it so impossibly difficult to fight back the smile that’s slowly creeping onto his features as he watches you and aventurine converse like you were best friends reunited.

“this is my friend, doctor ratio!”

“oh, so you’re the doctor that everyone talks about! nice to meet you, i’m _____.”

you knew him already? well, it’s no big deal, you must have heard about him from aventurine. fuck, you look so much more heavenly up close. you’re like the manifestation of a goddess, with the way you seem to literally radiate a glow and everything. shit, if he didn’t know any better, he’d think you were an emanator of beauty, or an incarnation of devi saraswati (he hopes he isn’t thinking of the wrong goddess with his limited knowledge of hindu culture).

“likewise. just veritas is fine, too. that was an absolutely phenomenal performance, back then.”

veritas doesn’t know the first thing about the gods you sung the praises of during your performance, but he does think that your devotion to the art must be unmatched. he feels like you are a personification of the heavens, and he’s blind to everything that isn’t your divine beauty. there’s something so ancient about your art, and you’re almost like an envoy of the gods— aeons, you’re slowly getting him wrapped around your damn finger, and he doesn’t think he’s going to do anything to stop it.

“thank you, veritas,” you smile at him, and he feels a slight warmth. “i’ll be performing again at the grand theatre soon. you’ll be there, right?”

[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

Imagine being kidnapped by Tom Ludlow.

Hi anon. This got out of hand. I’m sorry. CW: mentions of child abuse/dark humor concerning it, rape/noncon fantasies and details. I write from a place of my own trauma, and it gets a little fucked up. If you don’t like dark fics, or are triggered easily, DO NOT READ THIS. Violence, bad cops, SA. Tom Ludlow is not the bad guy in this, though.

If you’re a big girl, a tall girl, a girl with a lot of muscle or fat, you probably haven’t been picked up off the ground since you were very young.

You question your femininity because of it, along with a whole lot of other shit that society decides to push on you for not having a traditional feminine figure…whatever the hell that is.

You often take on a more protective, mothering or masculine roll with your smaller or daintier or gentler friends. You don’t look down on them at all—or envy them too often. Some people just carry a unique tenderness that you wish the world had more of. But every little rainbow or sunbeam needs their strong protective cloud, and you mostly gladly, sometimes reluctantly take on this role.

You will never be a meek, kind, delicate person. It’s just not going to happen. You don’t want it to happen. You’re pretty comfortable with your role in life. It’s just…sometimes…and this is probably something that everyone craves in vulnerable moments…you want to be the one getting protected.

It’s just kind of exhausting, always being there for everyone else. As much as you love it, and you do, it can also really drain you.

The duality of man is that we can be more than one type of person, and want different things. You know this. But…it’s hard as hell to admit you want to be taken care of. Because doesn’t that ruin your tough facade? Your strength and independence? Doesn’t that let everyone know that you’re just putting on an act to cover up who you really are—a weak, sniveling girl?

That’s why you bottle up, keep things to yourself, regard the world cynically and humorously with a lazy shrug of your shoulder. You act like nothing gets to you, like you are a stoic guard at the queen’s gate, like a big mastiff on patrol of your sheep.

When you do wear an emotion, more often than not it’s either sarcasm or…anger. Like tonight, when some guy won’t leave your friend alone at the bar.

She’s visibly uncomfortable and attempting escape from the creep following her around. She’s too nice to tell him to go away, but you’re not, and you have had to put yourself between them way, way too many times.

“She’s not interested,” you tell him.

He sneers at you. “Yeah, yeah I know.”

Except he fucking doesn’t, because ten seconds later he’s smacking her ass when she stands up, and you’re punching him in the mouth.

He hits you back, and it feels like a slap from a two year old, but it startles your fight or flight, and before you know it, your vision is blurry with rage and your fists are flying.

The security guards have to pull you off of one another and haul you outside to where the police are waiting with cuffs.

“He was harassing my friend,” you tell the guy who’s chaperoning you.

“Her ugly ass is just jealous cuz nobody wants her!” Screams scumbag from down the sidewalk.

Wow, you’ve never heard that one before.

One of the cops grabs him by the collar and says something that appears to be stern with his finger pointed at his face.

The guy looks visibly shaken after that, and he specifically avoids looking in your direction again.

The ballsy officer, probably in some sort of supervising position by the looks of it, gets to you next, and you have to crane your neck up to look at him.

You expect anger, but his face is neutral as he pulls a pen and paper from his utility belt. “Hello, ma’am, my name is officer Ludlow with the LAPD. You mind telling me what went on here tonight?”

You tick through the list of events as best you can, trying not to paint yourself as innocent (because with the way you beat on him, you’re definitely not), but making sure he knows what a fucking reprobate you were up against, and he scribbles it all down diligently.

After you’re done, he flicks his chin at the officer standing next to you. “Reed, let her go.”

They uncuff you, and you roll your arms, testing the circulation and rubbing out the raw red marks on your wrists. “Thanks,” you tell the lead officer. “You mind if I go back in and get my friends? There’s only three of us and I’m worried about them…”

“I can’t let you go back in,” officer Ludlow says, “but give us their names and descriptions, and I’ll send Reed in for them, alright?”

You nod, comply, and a few tense moments later Abby is running out to wrap her arms around your shoulders, smearing her glittery tears and pink blush on your jacket.

You hug her back, picking her up a little bit off the ground with the ferocity of your relief, and look at officer Ludlow over her head. “Thanks,” you tell him.

Tye, arriving from the thicket of people at the entrance a few moments later, immediately wants to know what happened.

She, however, is interrupted, by the asshole down the sidewalk, still in cuffs. “Hope you think of me when you see that handprint on your cute little ass tomorrow!” He calls, and Abby turns away, choking on a sob.

You’ve always had anger issues. Usually, in adulthood, they’re pretty easy to tame down. Not in this circumstance, not when you see Abby shaking and crying, looking as defenseless as a baby mouse.

Unbeknownst to you, because your sight and sound have been marginally narrowed to one person who needs his face bludgeoned in so hard that he finally shuts the fuck up, the head officer has already signaled for them to haul this guy into the back of a police car.

You’re not sure how you cross the distance between you and him so fast—you’re built for endurance, not speed—but suddenly your fists are connecting with his flesh again, and there’s a lot of yelling and pulling and finally your feet leave the ground and your knuckles leave his face.

It takes you a minute to realize you are being carried away—that your feet are not on land—and you look up at the person whose arms are currently wrapped around you.

Like mentioned before, it’s been a long, long time since someone has picked you up and you’ve lost your center of gravity so quickly and so thoroughly. Like a startled animal, you fight to try and get back to the ground, more out of shock and adrenalized fear than anything.

You don’t mean to scratch or bite the nice officer, you really don’t.

Ludlow just sighs at your resistance, like he could be doing something much more important right now rather than manhandling you into the back of a squad car like you’re an ornery kitten rather than a formidable opponent.

You are silenced into shock the whole way to the police station.

They put you in the waiting room sans cuffs, and you’re not sure how much time passes until a heavy presence plops down on the plastic chair next to you.

“Fuck,” is the first thing you say to Ludlow. “My friends…”

“They’re safe. I’m giving them an escort back home.”

He gives you some room temp water, and after the fear wears off, grants you enough time to come back to your good senses. You look at him sheepishly, with your head tucked down. “Sorry, he was a fucking creep.”

Ludlow nods. “I get it, hopefully I can get you out of it with a slap on the wrist.” He hands you some tissues from his breast pocket. “Wipe that blood off your face.”

You didn’t realize you were bleeding, so it’s a shock to finally feel the ache of a bloody lip and bruised cheek and see the paper come back crimson streaked.

After a few long moments of silence, you say, “I feel like an asshole.”

He shrugs, leans back, grins over at you. You fight the urge to flush at his crooked smile. He’s a handsome man. Sometimes you like those. “Asshole, no. Dumb, maybe. He could have really fucked you up.”

“I handled myself just fine.”

“Your split lip will disagree tomorrow morning. Lemme see.” He holds out his hand, as if for you to rest your chin in, and you’re not sure what brain malfunction gets you to comply. You are not a good listener by any means, especially for men in positions of authority or power.

Maybe it’s sexist, maybe it’s unfair. Spend your whole childhood getting the shit taken out of you by a man that’s supposed to love and care for and protect you, and then decide what’s fair and what’s not.

He whistles low, turning you this way and that with a tenderness you don’t expect from calloused, bear paw hands with knuckles like golf balls. “I’ll give it to you, you’ve got balls. Bigger than most men I’ve met.”

Your mouth betrays your tough girl facade, and lets a tiny smile hike up the edge despite the stinging pain that follows.

Officer Ludlow gets you out with a slap on the wrist—aka a misdemeanor—just like he said he was going to. You tell him thank you about ten million times for saving your ass, and for offering to give you a ride back to the bar to get your car.

“I’ve already put you out too much tonight,” you tell him. “I’ll get a Taxi or something.”

“It’s a Saturday night,” he says, jangling the keys in his beater pocket. “By the time you get to the bar, you’re gonna be towed. C’mon.”

You open the back door of his charger, but he shakes his head and, instead, opens up his passenger seat for you to slide in.

It’s about now you’re starting to get a funny feeling in the pit of your stomach, like something is off about this interaction. You’re not one to trust easily, and getting in the car with a complete stranger, although one in uniform, is out of character to say the least.

Your radar has really been fucked up tonight. By the alcohol, the scumbag, the being arrested, the bruising and tearing of your knuckles. What a way to end it, you think, if Ludlow is a bad guy.

The funny feeling in your guts that you decide to ignore this one time? It turns out to be right. And as Tom Ludlow starts driving up through the deserted hills, in the opposite direction of the bar your car is at, you almost want to burst out laughing at how stupid you are.

Asshole, no. Dumb? Fucking definitely.

You test his door handle and he snorts at you; like he’s saying, you think I’m that stupid?

“Doesn’t hurt to try,” you grumble, sizing him up from the corner of your eye, deciding whether to fight or flight or just give up now. He’s thin, but he’s broad. Tall. Not lanky. He won’t be easy to push over. You’ll have to bite, claw eyes out, rip his hair from his head. Make sure he doesn’t pull that shiny pistol out of his belt before you can jump on him.

You could do it right here in the car and risk barreling over the steep hillside on your right. You could—

“Hey,” he says, calmly, capturing you too easily from your violent thoughts, “it’s alright, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

A part of you wants to believe him, or maybe just believe there’s still some good in the world—some good in men. Hell, maybe leprechauns exist, too. You never know.

He looks sideways at you when you giggle in response to these reassuring words, as if you’re the one who’s fucking psycho. “I’ve heard that one before.”

He makes a pensive sound, air puffing from his nostrils, switches gears as the incline increases. “Daddy beat you up?”

Well, fuck it, might as well share all your sob stories if this is really happening tonight. “Uncle, actually.”

“Sorry,” he says, and you hazard a glance over to see if his face matches his empathetic tone—it, surprisingly, does. “He still alive?”

“No.”

You must be violently shaking to compensate for the repression of a panic attack, because his still, steady hand on your shoulder pauses the tremors. “It’s okay,” he assures, like he’s trying to soothe a crying kid. You have to admit, his voice is a cool ointment for hot nerves, even if he’s the reason for them in the first place.

The brain has a funny way of dealing with things like this. There’s about a 30% chance his intentions are raping you, because with his looks he could get any lady in the city of lights for free, but rapists and molesters rarely think about physical attractiveness when it actually comes down to the act. Psychologists say it’s more about the power trip for them. And, at least, if he is going to fuck you, he’s not exactly the worst man that you could pick to do it.

At least he’s hot, is what it boils down to. Because you’re a disgusting degenerate. Because your coping skills are a ticking time bomb, a broken record, stuck back at the part of your life where you had to start liking the way uncle Eddy touched you to deal with the shame and the despair of it.

Officer Ludlow’s gonna pick you right up off the ground again, slam you into his backseat, tug your pants and underwear down in one go. He’ll make you beg him to fuck your pussy instead of your unprepared and untainted ass, use his spit as lube, rub his meaty fingers over your puffy lips and taunt you when his saliva encounters your slippery cum. He’ll smack your ass for liking this, leave big red handprints, whisper in your ear that you’re gonna remember him, not just tomorrow, but for weeks after he gets done working your cunt. That he should kill you and leave your body out for the flies, but he wants you to live just so you can feel the way he destroyed your pussy.

The charger slows to a halt out in the sticks, and you have no idea where the fuck you are or how long you’ve been driving. The night is thick black soup in a boiling pot, and his headlights cut through it meagerly. It’s enough light to see what’s happening ahead, though, and when you look over at him curiously, he is grinning at you.

The man from the bar who assaulted your friend is in cuffs, an officer on each arm holding him in place. You don’t feel bad at all when you notice his swollen lip and purple temple, but you do wish you would have gotten more hits in.

Lucky for you, Officer Ludlow has you covered.

“Do you want to hit him?” He asks, unclipping his seat belt. “Or do you wanna watch?”

You blink a few times in response, not sure what to say to this brutally kind gesture. This man who barely knows you is helping you exact revenge against his own brethren. You’ve never been so…flattered.

“Don’t tell me you’re attempting to grow a conscience?” He teases.

“I wanna hit him.”

To your disappointment, Ludlow is not a total savage. He lets you get 3 or 4—it’s hard to remember the exact number—good hits on this dirtbag, and even wraps your knuckles up in a cushiony flannel from his back seat beforehand. His only rule is, “stay away from his ugly ass face. I don’t need him coming back to the station more fucked up than it already is.”

You get him in the stomach, the ribs, kick him so hard in his dick that you feel the hard pelvic bone underneath. Maybe it’s only a couple hits, but you make them count. And when you start to ache, or get tired, all you have to do is remember the tears smearing Abbie’s pretty glitter eyeliner down her face.

If he does say anything to you, you don’t hear it. Or maybe he really doesn’t, because Ludlow stands behind you like a watchful wolfhound the entire time, and then escorts you back to his car with a heavy arm over your shaking shoulders.

“Good job,” he praises, seeming very amused and unaffected by this whole ordeal while you are trembling, soaked with sweat, panting like a hooker in a fur coat. “It’s alright, he had it coming. Hey, hey, hey, look at me.”

You do as he says, momentarily escaping your fury in favor of his calming voice and soft black eyes.

“You did amazing. Lemme see the knuckles.”

He takes your hand in his, and you notice the size difference first, and then the warm, damp, pleasant heat second.

There’s been a lot of firsts tonight: someone’s hands being larger than your own (big lady hands should’ve been your nickname in highschool), being picked up off the ground past the age of 7, a man going out of his way to do something nice for you—because your brain decides that’s how it’s going to frame this scenario whether you like it or not, as some fucked up little date on Tom Ludlow’s dime.

You feel safe with your hand tucked into his and the heat of his skin and the cozy intimacy of being belted into his vehicle. You feel grateful that good men still exist. You feel…tight, twisted up in some deprived box of longing you’ve made permanent home in.

You leave the sanctuary of your comfort zone, and have another first, as you cross his center console and kiss a man on his mouth.

For a moment where you feel like your heart is suspended on the edge of a very tall cliff, he freezes. This stiff resistance immediately makes you want to pull away, but, before you can, he wraps his hand around your chin and pulls you deep into his mouth.

Arthur from college, Monica from New Orleans…Hell, even Uncle Eddie—they have nothing on Officer Tom Ludlow with his big, slick tongue and muscular lips.

It’s so good you can almost ignore the fresh sting of your split lip.

He sucks your bottom lip between his teeth, and murmurs a laugh when you give him a low groan for the effort, then takes your angry little grumble and dampens it with his renewed fervor. His hands remain gentle and chaste on your face, your neck, your shoulders, even though there is nothing gentlemanly about the way he devours your mouth. He does not push for more, does not hold you down with those big hands that absolutely could if they wanted to.

You set the pace, you pull him closer, you push him back when you need to gasp for air.

He licks the taste of you from his tilted, beautiful lips. “You have to breathe through your nose, honey.”

“Sorry,” you say, crossing your arms over yourself, pressing back against the door, away from him.

His lazy smile droops. “Are you alright?”

”I just…Can you take me to my car? If not I can—“

The thick start of his engine cuts you off.

The car ride back is silent. You think about turning on the radio a few times, but don’t want to cross more boundaries than you already have. Luckily, he flips it on for the both of you and you’ve never, ever been so happy to hear Metallica.

When he parks, cutting the engine off in the nearly deserted garage, the tension between you immediately peaks, sizzling like vinegar on baking soda. He wraps a long limb over the back of your seat, looks confused—vulnerable for such a big, scary man, and he makes your heart twang a lonely cord.

He seems almost boyish, when he asks if he can take you out sometime.

And you want to say yes. Every feral primordial part of you does, anyway. But then there’s the rational part, the one that should and does win most of the time. You’ve already snubbed that part too much tonight, so you politely decline Ludlow’s offer, and with your traitorous heart padlocked and chained back into your breast cavity, you say goodbye to the nice officer.

[jjenthusee]

A Part Of The Family

Roy Harper and Lian Harper Drabble!!! (feat. Jason Todd and Dick Grayson)

A/N: if you’ve kept up with me, you might have noticed that I’ve started to stan Roy YAY 😫 it was a crazy deep dive and I got attached to his character lol one of the main reasons i wanted to write for him was because of his Native American/Indigenous upbringing. I was shocked when I found out because (i don’t normally try to share too much about myself cause this is a public space) but i’m indigenous too ✨😌✨ i have to rep my people for Native American Heritage Month *confetti* but i thought i would have to share this to give context on how i plan to write and explore Roy’s character. At least from my research (sorry if this is wrong) but he did grow up on the reservation in some of the backstories and it’s not explored very much :( it explains his tattoo, knowing the language, and frankly, a lot of native rep is kinda bad, but i thought leaving out a major part of his childhood didn’t help reflect who he was. As someone who has experience and lives as a member of the tribe it’s based on, I wanted to share some silly thoughts :) ofc remember all people with cultural backgrounds have different experiences so read this or don’t but i’ll see how this turns out so ENJOY 💐 and comment, like, reblog

Summary: Roy shares a part of his past with Jason and now he’s determined to share an important moment of Lian’s life.

Word Count: 1.2k

“I don’t think she’s going to budge anytime soon.” Roy rested himself on the couch, overlooking his best friend and daughter. They were both on the floor, a soft blanket laid for Lian’s designated tummy time.

Lian blankly watched Jason hold toys, making noises as she followed the sounds, glancing up to look at his excited face as he talked to her.

“Don’t listen to him, Lian. Just over three months of life and we are already best friends.” Jason’s words kept Lian’s attention.

She would give the tiniest smile in return. No laughter yet, but she expressed her enjoyment of Jason’s presence, nonetheless.

Roy was grinning watching the two, a much clearer expression, but remarkably like Lian’s smile. He had been lacking some sleep, but Jason’s frequent visits were helping him get a couple extra minutes of rest.

To Roy’s surprise, Jason had been over almost everyday this week.

The company was fine, better even according to Roy, but he didn’t mean for this to happen. It had been a small slip, a tiny mistake, just a sleepy mumble of his brain when he watched Jason clumsily hold Lian for the first time.

Roy corrected Jason’s hands to be comfortable for him and Lian. In the movement, he had unconsciously spoken.

“This reminds me of way back, when there was a new baby in the community, all the kids would crowd around trying to make funny faces, trying to make the baby laugh.” Roy lulled along to Jason’s slight sway, more confident in holding Lian in his arms. “Then we would hear all the elders yell out to us that we would have to cook if we got the baby to laugh.”

Roy chuckled to himself, remembering the days back on the reservation, feeling the hot sun on his skin.

Jason set his gaze on Roy, never moving his head away from Lian’s tiny body, but focused on the man’s sudden reminiscent tone.

It wasn’t often that Roy mentioned the past, he didn’t discourage it directly, but he also didn’t freely talk about it either.

So, Jason took a chance.

“Cook?” Jason harmlessly questioned, smoothing out the tiny hairs on Lian’s forehead as she stared at his face again.

“Well, it’s a big deal when a baby laughs for the first time. We celebrate and it’s planned by the person who makes the baby laugh.” Roy got up from his spot once he heard the washer finish. “Almost costed my entire savings when one of my friends and I tripped trying to run to the baby first, luckily all we got was a big sneeze.”

Roy threw the damp clothes into the dryer, chuckling to himself.

“I wonder when Lian’s going to laugh.” Roy smiled at the thought. “I hope it’s soon. Wouldn’t mind a lil’ party.”

Roy should have been careful about his words that afternoon.

Now Jason felt determined to be the first person to make Lian laugh.

At this rate, Roy wouldn’t be surprised if he already had the decorations planned out and stashed away somewhere.

It was nice to have company. Roy had usually expected Jason to be there next to Lian, giving laidback greetings.

Then there was another Bat sitting before his daughter.

Dick had unknowingly found out about Jason’s frequent visits and Jason was very pissed about it. Despite his very noticeable apprehension to Dick’s presence, he bit his tongue in favor of Lian finding the new addition intriguing.

Too intriguing. Uncomfortably intriguing and an annoyance to Jason.

“Fu—Get lost, Dickface.” Jason spoke with slight venom in his voice, but it quickly disappeared as he held out his fingers to Lian’s tiny hands.

“But Lian wants me here. Isn’t that right, Lian?” Dick cooed, a twinkle in his eyes as he spoke. Making noises to get her attention.

“Don’t you have other red heads to bother?” Jason scooted closer to Lian, trying to nudge Dick away.

“You’ve been here five days in a row and you expect me to ignore that?” Dick stood up to make faces at Lian from above Jason’s head.

“A man can’t visit a friend?” Jason stood up blocking Dick.

“Then I’m visiting a friend too.” Dick maneuvered his way to Lian’s side in her bouncer.

“Just fucking leave—“ Jason threw Lian’s rattle at the back of Dick’s head.

The tiny sounds bounced off Dick’s back as it collided to his feet.

There was a brief moment of silence before Dick slowly looked back at Jason. A smile was on his face, but the vein in his head was bulging slowly.

“Dinner’s ready—“ Roy called out, making eye contact with the two men wrestling with a baby blanket as Jason tried to somehow twist the fabric to trap his brother.

Dick on the other hand was flexible enough to lessen the hold and pushed the side of Jason’s face with his free hand.

They murmured insults back and forth as calmly as they could, but the strained smiles on their faces couldn’t mask their current wrestling match.

“Stop pushing me—“ Jason grumbled.

“Then stop twisting my arm—“ Dick pressed back.

“Hehehe.”

Three necks snapped to the quiet sound from the ground, almost lost in the commotion, but there was little Lian.

She laid on her back in her bouncer, completely enamored by the noise and movements around her.

She made small movements in her arms in her excitement, a wide gummy smile on her face.

“I made her laugh.” Jason smiled confidently while tightening the baby blanket around his brother.

“I made her laugh.” Dick challenged, trying to kick back.

Roy walked around the two men to pick up Lian, cuddling her in his arms, and unbelievably happy to witness the delightful sounds from his daughter for the first time.

“Nuh uh, Dickwad, it’s my party.” Jason threatened.

“Jaybird, she was looking at me too! Wait, what party?” Dick finally asked.

“Why are you even here?!” Jason groaned.

Roy couldn’t even focus on the two bickering behind him, he was busy kissing the side of his daughter's head.

He tenderly kept her in his arms, seeing her gaze back up at him.

His smile was met with a smaller copy of his own.

Roy had seen and heard of the A’wee Chi’deedloh, the First Laugh Ceremony, in his time living on the reservation. As a kid, it was just a time for him to eat and play with his friends, but it also welcomed a new family member.

He remembers one of the elder women talking to him as a young boy who stood watching from the distance.

“We welcome the baby into our present world from the Spirit World, it’s a time that we share with everyone. It’s the first sign of a baby showing us they want to be a part of the family, to show and give love.” Roy heard the elder talk to him. “Don’t forget to eat and get salt from the baby, it’s their offering to us, to encourage them to be generous as they grow.”

At the time, Roy was involving himself more with the tribe, asking questions and participating. He remembers the look on the baby’s face as he received salt and a bag of goods.

He remembered how content he felt that day eating his sweets and now he would finally experience the perspective of a parent helping their child in the ceremony.

“Welcome, she’awéé’, my Lian.” Roy affectionately whispered to his daughter. “I’m happy you want to be here.”

—

Translations:

She’awéé’ — my baby

A’wee Chi’deedloh — First Laugh Ceremony

Roy Tag List: (temporary) @soysaurus @janybabyy @simpingforheros

[dixons-sunshine]

Crushes Are For School Girls | Quarters Of The Undead

Summary: Crushes—the innocent little glances. The blushing. The butterflies. We all get them. For Georgianna, it was much more than that. The crush in question had those same butterflies, though, stealing the same innocent glances. And everyone seemed to notice…except for her.

Era: Quarry.

Warnings: Swearing, allusions to sex, one sexual comment (from Merle).

Word count: 4k.

Pairings: Georgie x Daryl (unestablished); Vec x Scud (established)

A/N: Thank you, @thevegandarkelf, for helping me with the summary. You’re amazing. Anyways, I hope y’all like this!

“Why am I like this?”

“You have a crush, Ginny. It’s natural to feel this way.”

“Yeah, well crushes suck. Crushes are for school girls, not for women of my grown ass age.”

Vec chuckled as she gingerly rubbed Georgianna’s back, the woman in question being face planted into her pillow on her sleeping bag. “There, there, Gin. It’s okay. You’ll survive this.”

Despite the reassurance, Georgianna still groaned into the pillow, feeling utterly stupid about the turmoil of emotions whirring around in her being. However, the most prominent feeling was the one in her stomach, one which could only be described as butterflies. Butterflies because of something so simple. Butterflies because her hair got tucked behind her ear. Butterflies because of the man that wielded a crossbow and had become the starring attraction in her nightly dreams.

A man named Daryl Dixon.

Georgianna did not even fully understand how she had started spending time with the archer in the first place. Her tent—that she shared with both her best friend, Vec, and Vec’s boyfriend, Scud—had been set up on the outskirts of the camp, right next to those of the Dixon brothers’, so it was only natural that they would have had to converse with one another.

However, the friendship that had bloomed—and surprisingly, rather quickly, too—between Georgianna and Daryl was something completely unexpected. And the crush that Georgianna harboured on the man was also, completely, one hundred percent unexpected—to her more than anyone.

And now Vec—and sometimes Scud—had to put up with her yammering on about Daryl, and she felt rather guilty about it, because she was talking about him a lot.

The sound of the tent flap opening caught both Georgianna and Vec’s attention. Vec stood up from the ground and Georgianna rolled over and sat back up, Georgianna sent a nod in Scud’s direction, which instantly confused the man.

“Woah, what’s up with you?” he asked, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Where’s the eye roll? The scoff? The ‘oh great, it’s you’? Where’s the Marianne I know and don’t love?”

Vec laughed lightly at that, before shaking her head. “She’s too lovesick to insult you today.”

Georgianna sent a glare in Vec’s direction. “Traitor,” she mouthed to her, only earning a falsely innocent smile in return.

“Ooh, okay,” Scud replied to Vec’s statement, his lips contorting up into a smirk. “So what is it about this time? His arms? His shoulders? His hands? His as—”

“Okay!” Georgianna cut him off, rolling her eyes at the laughter that tumbled out of his mouth, before shifting her attention back to Vec. “I don’t talk about him that much, do I?”

Vec hummed and shook her head. “No. Nope, not really. You pretty much talk about him the same amount I did back when I first started dating Josh.”

“Jesus, I’m that bad?” Georgianna whispered to herself, mildly horrified at that admission. “Fucking hell, I need to be put down.”

“You talked about me a lot?” Scud mused in a sickeningly lovestruck tone of voice, coming up to stand next to Vec, his eyes sparkling as he looked at her.

Vec rolled her eyes and lightly shoved him, not enough to do any damage. “Don’t let it go to your head,” she told him, trying to calm the heat that formed in her cheeks.

“Never,” Scud chuckled. He wrapped his arm around Vec’s shoulders and pulled her into him, before pressing a kiss to her temple. “You’re so cute when you blush, y’know that?”

“Yeah? Well—”

“If you two wanna get down and dirty tonight, just let me know so that I can move my sleeping bag to someone else’s tent,” Georgianna chimed in, drawing the couple’s attention back to reality.

Scud rolled his eyes, but made no effort to remove his arm from its position around Vec. “Who would you even stay with? I thought Vec was your only friend.”

“Very funny,” Georgianna replied in a monotone voice.

“I know who would willingly offer to let her stay with them,” Vec voiced, a small, teasing smirk on her face. “I’ll give you a tip. Their name rhymes with ‘Meryl’.”

“Wow, you’re super subtle about that,” Georgianna scoffed, pushing herself up from her sleeping bag. She grabbed her pencil and sketchbook from her bag, before sending Vec a small smile. “I can offer up an hour of me being away from the tent. I’m gonna be out by the main campfire. Just stay away from my sleeping bag. I would highly prefer not to sleep next to Scud’s jizz stains tonight, thank you very much.”

The blush that coated Vec’s cheeks was bright enough to make tomatoes jealous. However, she simply nodded at her. “Thanks.”

Whether something would happen between her and Scud in that one hour, she did not know. What she did know, however, was that the younger Dixon brother was fixing up his crossbow by the campfire, with nobody else around for the time being, meaning that Georgianna and Daryl would be completely alone… It was the perfect set up.

Closing the tent flap behind her, Georgianna let out a small sigh, before making good on her words and trudging forward towards the campfire. The Hawkins woman was surprised by the lack of chatter that night. Usually, most of the adults in the camp would talk away until they absolutely had to go back to their tents. Those late night talks was something unofficially instituted to attempt to regain some semblance of normalcy in a crazy world run by the undead. However, that night, there was absolutely nobody around. It seemed like everyone had decided to turn in early that night. Well, everyone except a certain blue-eyed archer.

Georgianna did not even notice Daryl until she was standing a mere few feet away from him. Admittedly, she was so deep in thought that, had he not cleared his throat, she probably would have gone and sat right on his lap, completely unaware that the seat was otherwise occupied.

Georgianna’s eyes widened in surprise, before she schooled her expression to one of nonchalance, a friendly smile on her face. “Daryl, hi.”

The archer nudged his nose up in a half nod. “Hey, Georgie.”

The way he said her name, the gruffness that laced his tone, but mixed with a softness that was reserved purely for her—at least, if she chose to believe what Vec told her—had her weak in the knees. However, she forced herself to remain upright, refusing to make a complete fool of herself in front of the man she so desperately wished she did not have a crush on.

“Uh, mind if I sit?” she asked softly, motioning over to the chair next to him.

Daryl shrugged. “Go ahead.”

Georgianna nodded and sat down in the seat. Although this was not the first time that she had spent time with the archer, this time around, it just felt… different. She could not fully explain it.

Daryl shifted his attention back to his crossbow, fiddling with the strings as Georgianna opted to occupy her mind with her drawing. Free time became a luxury, and she truly treasured just being able to sit down and draw. She used to be able to sketch whenever, but with the world in shambles, she found herself lucky if she were able to even glance at her sketchbook once a week.

As she went about drawing, her legs curled up beneath her on the chair, Daryl took the opportunity to steal glances at her. In his mind, she truly looked ethereal in that moment. Her hair was tied up into a loose ponytail, but a few stray pieces of hair fell in wispy, curly strands in her face, acting as a curtain between her and the real world. Her brown, chocolate eyes were lightened by the glow of the campfire, giving them a more amber-like tone, and her cheeks were slightly pink, a colour that Daryl thought suited her.

God, she is gorgeous, Daryl thought to himself.

Daryl did not know exactly when he started developing feelings for the woman next to him, but he did know that his feelings were completely justified. She was damn near perfect in his eyes. She was so kind, so nice, and so goddamn considerate. She could be such a chatterbox, but whenever it came to him, she did not talk his ear off. It was like she could read his cues like the back of her hand, and she knew exactly when to back off and give him his space.

She was such a genuine person, and he could not help but feel drawn to her. Despite many attempts to put some distance between them, to withdraw himself from her until she got the hint, he just could not help it. He kept going back. She made him feel like less of a piece of garbage. She actually treated him like a human being, which is more than could be said for ninety nine percent of the other members of the group.

Realizing that he was staring at her for a beat too long, he ducked his head, instead focusing back on his crossbow. He just thanked whatever god was out there that she was too occupied with her drawing to realize his slip up.

“So,” Daryl began, surprisingly being the first one to strike up a conversation, “how long have ya been doin’ that? Drawin’, I mean.”

Georgianna looked up at him, a bright smile on her face, one that had his stomach doing somersaults. “Not long, actually. I didn’t pick up the hobby until I was twenty-five. One of my students told me once that they bet I couldn’t recreate the Mona Lisa, and I proved them wrong.”

“I bet it looked great,” Daryl replied, placing his crossbow down on the ground next to him.

“Oh, no. It looked like dog shit,” Georgianna laughed, glancing between her drawing and the man next to her. “But it was a fun challenge. It made me realize that I wanted to be able to do that, you know? Create pictures from my mind alone. So I bought myself a bunch of supplies and every nigh, before bed, I’d draw anything and everything just to get some practice in. My TV, my coffee mug, my stuffed rabbit—”

“You had a stuffed rabbit? At twenty-five?” Daryl mused, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. That little piece of information was actually rather adorable.

Georgianna rolled her eyes with a smile. “Yes, I did. It was a gift from my dad when I turned nine. He…” she trailed off, her smile dimming at the thought of that awful time in her life. “He bought it for me as a way to help me cope with what happened with my—my mother.”

Daryl frowned slightly at the clear shift in the mood. The small, curious part of him wanted to ask what she was talking about, about what had happened with her mother, but the other, more logical side of him told him not to. She never pressed him for answers on anything he revealed of his life before, so he would respect that kindness she had showed him by reciprocating the sentiment.

“Yeah, I get that. The thing holds sentimental value or some bullshit like that, right?” Daryl said, attempting to lighten the mood.

Georgianna smiled and nodded. “Yeah. Some bullshit like that.” She sighed and leaned back in her chair, closing her sketchbook and letting it rest on her lap. “I wish I could have grabbed it before we left the city. It’s the one thing that can’t be replaced for me.”

Daryl hummed in acknowledgement. Not really knowing how to go about the situation, and clearly sensing that Georgianna needed a pick-me-up, he opted to change the topic. “What were ya drawin’?”

“The landscape,” Georgianna replied, motioning over to the treeline just beyond the array of tents. “The scenery is beautiful. I could get into what exactly I find beautiful, but something tells me that you’re not really into the whole “nature is a wonder” thing.”

“You’d be right ‘bout that,” Daryl chuckled. He looked back over to Georgianna, right in time to see her pull up the sleeves of her shirt, revealing something he had somehow never noticed until that point. “You have a tattoo?”

“Oh! Yes, I do,” she confirmed, twisting her body slightly to extend her arm and show him the picture permanently ingrained in her skin. “It’s a bunny tattoo.”

“From what ya told me jus’ a few moments ago, it seems pretty fittin’,” Daryl told her, leaning back in his chair. “When did ya get that?”

“About two years ago,” Georgianna replied after a moment of thinking. “I’ve always wanted to get a tattoo of an animal, and what better one to get than the one that holds the most sentimental value to me, right?”

“Right,” Daryl agreed with a light hum. “Ya really seem to like rabbits. So how much do ya cry when I bring dead ones back from my hunts?”

That made Georgianna laugh. The sound was like music to the archer’s ears, and Daryl felt a sense of pride knowing that he was the one that had caused it. It made him feel good about himself.

“Yes, I like rabbits, but I don’t cry when you bring dead ones back. I know that it’s vital for our survival. Their meat feeds us, but most importantly, they feed the kids. Carl, Sophia… The rabbits’ meat ensure that the kiddos don’t go to bed hungry. To me, that means that their sacrifices don’t go in vain.”

“That’s a nice way’a thinkin’ ‘bout it,” Daryl told her.

“Yeah.” She leaned back in her own chair, her chocolate eyes sparkling with amusement as she gazed at Daryl. “I guess rabbits just really mean a lot to me. As a kid, my dad would take me and my brother out camping, and he’d always take us to this place in the woods where the rabbits were just about everywhere. They did not fear humans at all. I even woke up and found a baby bunny sleeping on my legs once. It was the cutest thing ever.”

“So ya really like rabbits.” It was more of a statement than a question, but he got an answer anyway.

“I do. They bring a sense of joy to me. They remind me of some of the happiest times in my life. I know, it’s weird.”

Daryl shook his head. “Nah, ain’t nothin’ weird ‘bout that. It brings ya comfort. Nothin’ wrong with that.”

Georgianna smiled at him, a soft, genuine one. “Thank you,” she thanked him softly.

“’Course.”

The silence that fell between them was not one of discomfort. That was one thing that Daryl appreciated about the woman; the ability to sit with her in complete silence, and not have it be awkward. She knew exactly when to initiate a conversation with him, she knew exactly when Daryl preferred to sit in relative silence, and she knew exactly when he wanted to be left alone. That alone had been one of the many things that had drawn him to the woman in the first place, and he deeply appreciated her ability to read his social cues—or, well, lack thereof.

However, the silence did not last long at all. It got interrupted, and if looks could kill, Merle Dixon would be six feet under due to the glare Daryl was throwing his way.

“Holy shit, would ya look at this?” Merle laughed loudly, stumbling almost drunkenly towards the pair.

Georgianna instantly felt uncomfortable. She was a people person, but there were a select few people that she just could not bring herself to like, no matter how hard she tried; Shane Walsh, Ed Peletier, and Merle Dixon. And now the latter was ruining the serene moment that Daryl and Georgianna was having.

Wonderful, Georgianna thought to herself, pursing her lips together.

“Fuck off, Merle,” Daryl grumbled, shooting his brother a furious look. “M’not in the mood for your bullshit.”

“Now s’that any way to address me in front of this hot piece’a ass, boy? Don’ embarrass me like that, lil’ brother. Not unless you want me to kick your teeth in.”

Georgianna inhaled deeply, held her breath for four seconds, before exhaling again. She was trying really hard not to lash out at the man and his vulgar comments. Despite everything, Georgianna knew how important Merle was to Daryl, and she did not want to risk losing his friendship because she had a fight with his brother, even if said brother was a complete jackass.

“I think I’m gonna call it a night,” Georgianna declared. She picked up her sketchbook and pencil, before getting up. “Good night, guys. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She gently gripped Daryl’s shoulder in greeting, sending him one last smile, before she began stalking back towards her tent. Whether or not Vec and Scud were done doing the devil’s tango, she did not care. She wanted to faceplant into her pillow and throw the towel in for the day.

Daryl watched Georgianna’s retreating figure, his hand gingerly touching where her’s had gripped his shoulder not even ten seconds ago. Unwillingly, a small smile played on his lips, and his heart was galloping in his chest. Her touch felt so nice. Her hand was so soft, so warm. He definitely wanted to feel that again. That thought alone was rather terrifying.

Daryl got snapped from his thoughts by the sound of Merle’s loud, obnoxious voice, and he seriously wanted to punch his brother in that moment. “Jus’ shut up, Merle,” he mumbled, getting up from the chair, picking up his crossbow, and making his way over to his tent.

When Georgianna got back to the tent, she was surprised to find the tent flap already open. When she stepped into the material shelter, she was even more surprised to see Vec sitting upright in her sleeping bag, Scud laying on his back next to her, both pairs of eyes looking at her expectantly.

“So, how’d it go?” Vec asked in a sing-song voice, pushing her glasses up her nose when they slipped off a bit.

Georgianna, choosing to play dumb, frowned at her. “How’d what go?”

Vec scoffed at her. “Babe, please. We’ve been friends since before we could even talk. I know that look. Now spill.”

Georgianna rolled her eyes and sighed over dramatically. “Fine, fine.” She dropped her sketchbook and pencil onto her bag on the floor, kicked her shoes off and dropped down onto her sleeping bag, before sitting up and facing her best friend. “Before you ask, no. Nothing romantic happened. We just talked.”

“You hear that, Vee? They just talked,” Scud chimed in. He pushed himself to sit upright so that he could properly see Georgianna, a smirk on his face. “We,” he began, motioning between him and Vec, “started off just talking, too. Look at us today.”

“Well, Joshua, I’m not Vec, and Daryl most certainly isn’t you, thank god.”

Scud scoffed at that. “Yeah, thank god. Wouldn’t want two completely awesome me’s runnin’ around.”

“Then the camp would descend into complete and utter chaos. Then Deputy Dick would really hate us,” Georgianna quipped, before sighing. “Nothing happened between us, guys. I swear, we just talked. He asked me about my drawing, and then we talked about my love of rabbits. That’s all. Merle cut us off after that.”

“Oh, Jesus Christ!” Vec exclaimed, a groan leaving her. “Fucking idiot. Just had to go and ruin the build up to the first kiss. God, I hate him.”

“Woah, woah, woah. You just skipped a million chapters ahead. Even if he didn’t interrupt, there most definitely would not have been a first kiss.” Georgianna looked down at her hands, a frown tugging at her eyebrows. “I doubt there ever will be a first kiss. I doubt Daryl even likes me like that.”

That made Vec spring into motion. She got up from her sleeping bag—after a bit of protest from Scud, but she quickly shushed him—and plopped herself down next to her best friend. She took Georgianna’s face into her hands and gently forced her chocolate brown eyes to meet her ocean-coloured ones, a serious, no nonsense look in their depths.

“Georgianna Marianne Hawkins, I’m gonna need you to listen to me very closely. I know you didn’t say it outright, but I know what’s whirring around in that pretty head of yours. There is absolutely, positively, one hundred percent, fuck all wrong with you. You’re an ethereal, amazing, goddamn goddess, and he would be lucky to have you. Anyone would be lucky to have you. In fact, I would be surprised if he didn’t want you. I wish you could see what I do. Daryl Dixon is down bad for you.”

“She’s right, y’know,” Scud chipped in. “His eyes follow you when you’re not looking. He thinks he’s being discreet, but the Scudster is amazin’ at pickin’ up stuff like that. That’s a look of enamour if I ever saw one.”

“See?” Vec asked. “He likes likes you, Babe. I promise.”

Georgianna really wanted to believe them. She really did. However, she just couldn’t. The friendship, albeit a relatively new one—barely over two months—she shared with Daryl was just too precious to risk. The crossbow-wielding archer was not particularly known for his openess towards befriending people in the camp. Georgianna had been the only outlier, and if she decided to make a move and it ended up being something he did not want, the friendship could potentially be ruined.

No, she did not want to risk that.

She gingerly removed Vec’s hands from her face, a rather sad smile gracing her features. “Maybe y’all are right. I’ll… I’ll think about it, okay?”

That answer seemed to satisfy Scud, the man in question laying back down, but Vec knew better. She frowned at Georgianna, and lowered her voice to a whisper.

“That didn’t make you feel better, did it?”

Georgianna glanced at Scud, before looking back at Vec. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay? Give you the whole run down on my emotions and shit.”

Vec slowly nodded. “I’m keeping you to that.”

Vec lightly ruffled Georgianna’s hair, laughing lightly when the woman swatted her hand away, before crawling back over to her sleeping bag a few feet away from her best friend’s.

The three inhabitants of the dark blue tent started settling in for the night. Vec cuddled up next to Scud after exchanging one last kiss with him for the night, before taking her glasses off and setting them down on the makeshift table. Scud’s eyes were already closed by the time Vec was completely settled down.

Despite the little fire in the lamp that illuminated the tent being turned off, sleep did not come instantly for Georgianna. Her thoughts were running free in her head. Georgianna hated crushes. On the rare occasions that she got them, she always got them hard. She wished that she had the ability to keep her feelings under control. She wished that she was not so insecure about relationships. She wished that she felt confident enough to make a move and see where everything went from there. And above all else, she wished that she could suppress her growing feelings towards the younger Dixon brother.

As she slowly drifted off into the welcoming depths of slumber, those thoughts drifted from her mind, instead being replaced by a dream her brain had carefully crafted to bring her some release from her inner turmoil. As sleep finally overcame her, Georgianna laid completely still, blissfully unaware of the fact that in the tent closest to theirs, Daryl Dixon was still wide awake, fighting a losing battle against his own steadily growing feelings, his mind being plagued by images of the woman he cared for more than he had wanted to.

Georgie belongs to me.

Vec belongs to @thevegandarkelf.

Quarters Of The Undead Taglist: @holdmytesseract @weirdoneattheparty @ripleyswife @gothic-pumpkin

You can reach out to me or Taylor to be added/removed from the taglist. We’ll let the other one know about it so that both taglists stay one in the same.

©dixons-sunshine and thevegandarkelf 2024. We do not give permission for our works for this AU to be copied, modified, adapted or translated to any other site or platform without evidence of our given consent.

[cherryrikis]

LAST LOVERS ON THE MIDNIGHT TRAIN - 003 ! lipstick marks and coffee stains

PAIRING : producer riki x baker fem reader

SYNOPSIS: if it weren't for the two being on that last midnight train together, you would've never met. but when one person is wearing a white shirt while the other is holding a coffee cup without a lid, an accident is bound to happen. another 142 accidents later, and maybe riki would consider being your last love.

authors note - i keep inserting baseball into my works sorry

previous | masterlist | next

“just leave your shoes at the door.” you instructed riki, before allowing him to enter your apartment.

“cool, cool.” he replied with a nod.

you watched as he examined your home, glancing over every last picture frame and decorative throw pillow.

“it’s nice.” riki assured, as if he knew what you’re thinking. “very cozy. small, but cozy nonetheless. this definitely feels like a home.”

“do you.. do you not have a home?” you asked him hesitantly as he took a seat on the couch. “it sounds silly, i know. but the way you said it just had me thinking.”

riki smiled, letting out a soft laugh as he watched you struggle to find an excuse. “sorry, i know i kinda made it seem that way. its not that i don’t have a home, im just never home. most of the time i end up crashing at a friends place, or falling asleep in the studio.”

“this could be your home. i know it’s probably a little far, and even though we just met, you’re welcome anytime.” you comforted him with a small pat on the back. “now let me get that stain out.”

riki was sat on your bed, facing you with his legs crossed as you scrubbed at the stain.

“why are you scrubbing it before you wash it?” he asked curiously.

“pre-treating it. sometimes the washer doesn’t do a good enough job because it can set the stain in more.” you answered, briefly looking up.

you didn’t see it, but you felt and heard his presence slightly drift as riki got up to walk around your room.

he scanned the walls, and noticed a white shirt hanging by the bed. on one side, it had now faint lipstick marks in a small heart.

“what’s this?” riki questioned, pointing to it.

“oh that? it’s, uh.. old valentines gift for an ex. i was never able to give it to him, but it was too cute for me to throw away. so now its mine.” you explained with a shrug. not much too it.

“y/n?” “yeah?”

“can i spend the night? just ‘cause, you know. it’s late, and i’m sure we’re both tired. for the sake of convenience.”

you stared at him with your lips slightly apart, before they curled into a grin.

“what? what’s so funny?” riki pouted.

“of course you can spend the night you dummy. you probably won’t be getting this sweater back until tomorrow by the earliest anyway.” you rolled your eyes.

“i wouldn’t mind if you kept it.” he joked, before walking back to his original seat in front of you. riki watched as you continued scrubbing at the deep brown stain, until it eventually faded to a lighter shade.

“throw this into the washer for me, and you can sleep in my bed. i’ll take the couch.” you pointed your head in the direction of the laundry appliances.

“wait-” he paused. “why would you take the couch? it’s your house. you take the bed.”

“you’re my guest. unless you wanna share the bed?” you raised a brow teasingly, but he knew you were kidding.

“oh shut up, you’re just dying to make me look bad. how ‘bout i just sleep on the floor next to you?” riki pointed to the floor beneath you two.

“okay. but don’t complain if your back is hurting by the morning.” you joked as riki let out an annoyed sigh.

taglist ! @pshbites @r1kification @tasnemluvs @stvrriki @sirens-dreams @heartheejake @t0asterexe @ilovbeshotaro @prettiestgirlontheplanet @yourmyst4r @jiiyen @vixialuvs @ariluvssssss100 @mmurazz @sol3chu @who-tf-soddhi @domfikeluva @blvengene @tinyteezer @anqelkoz @theothernads @strawberrieswithchocolateo3o @lanaonlydaughter

[st4rfckerz]

you and sarah reminisce on some old memories

Sarah’s room felt like a time capsule, its soft baby blue walls still dotted with the glow-in-the-dark stars she stuck up years ago. The same faintly floral scent of her favorite candles lingered in the air, and her bed— its mismatched blankets piled high, it felt just as warm and familiar as ever. You laid together side by side, staring up at the ceiling as if the answers to life’s biggest questions might appear there.

Sarah rolled onto her side, propping her head up with her hand as she looked at you with that familiar spark in her eyes. “Do you remember how we used to have sleepovers almost every weekend?” she said, her voice soft and tinged with nostalgia. “It didn’t even matter what was going on, we’d beg our parents to let us stay over, and we’d just spend the whole night talking about the most random stuff.” She let out a small laugh, her gaze drifting toward the ceiling. “Half the time, we didn’t even sleep. We’d just stay up giggling until one of us got in trouble for being too loud.”

You smiled, the memories flooding back like they’d happened yesterday. “And how we always ended up sharing the same bed?” you continued, a grin spreading across your face.

Sarah nods. “Mhm, we definitely got cozy back then.” A mischievous glint appears in her eye as she recalls one specific memory, one you hoped she’d never bring up again. Your heart immediately started racing, and you felt your cheeks flush a deep red. “Oh my God, Sarah.” you started, already flustered.

“What?” she asked innocently, though her smirk said otherwise. “I’m just saying, someone got all shy after-”

“You kissed me first!” you blurted out, your voice louder than you intended. Sarah rolls her eyes playfully at your wide-eyed expression. “Oh come on, don't look so shocked! Girls kiss each other all the time.” She sits up, crossing her legs and leaning towards your body conspiratorially. You groaned in mortification and pulled a pillow over your face, hoping to disappear into the fabric and never come out.

Gently, her hands tugged at the pillow, moving it from your face entirely. She smiled, leaning closer until her lips brushed yours in a soft, deliberate kiss. “See? It’s not so bad.” she whispered before kissing you again.

Sarah smiles against your lips as the kiss deepens. Her hands slide up your sides, fingers grazing the soft skin beneath your tank top. She presses closer, pinning you to the mattress as your tongues tangle together. Her hips grind slowly against yours, the friction sending tingles through her body. Sarah breaks the kiss, panting softly as she gazes down at your flushed face. “We can keep going if you want.” You nod eagerly.

She gently takes your hand and guides it beneath the waistband of her shorts, letting you feel how wet she’s gotten. “You feel that?” Sarah purrs, subtly grinding her hips against your hand.

“Wait,” Sarah stands up abruptly, her eyes sparkling like a lightbulb had just gone off in her head. Before you could ask what she was doing, she slipped off her shorts and panties, tossing them aside with zero hesitation. “Take these off,” your heart raced, unsure of what exactly she had in mind. Sarah’s eyes hungrily roam over your body as you remove your own shorts. “You’re gonna love this, just follow me.”

Sarah grins wickedly as she spreads your legs wider, exposing your glistening pussy. “Look at you, so needy already," she coos, circling your clit with a feather-light touch, relishing the way you squirm and gasp beneath her ministrations.

Sarah positions herself over your lower half, your slick folds pressing together. She begins to move her hips, sliding her aching pussy against yours in a slow, sensual grind. “Oh fuck…” she moans, relishing the delicious friction.

“That's it, just like that,” she exhales shakily. “Wanna make you cum so bad," Sarah growls as she starts grinding harder, faster. “Been such a good friend all these years, you deserve it.” Her hands roam your body, tweaking your nipples and kneading your tits as you rock together. Sarah leans down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, all tongue and teeth and desperate need.

Your hips buck wildly, chasing your impending release. “So close- don't stop," you pant, voice ragged with pleasure. Her fingers dig into your hips, holding you tight as she keeps the frenzied rhythm of her pelvis.

“Cum with me, I wanna feel it.” she commands. Sarah throws her head back with a guttural moan, hips jerking erratically as her orgasm crashes over her. As you both come down from your highs, she collapses onto you, your sweaty bodies tangled together.

“See? I knew you’d like it.” Sarah murmurs, pressing soft kisses along your jawline. After a moment, Sarah lifts her head to gaze at you with another mischievous glint in her eye.

“So...you think this means we're gonna start having sleepovers again?”

[thesmutfactory]

“I can’t promise that, Aurora,” Isaac answered, honestly, even though it hurt. “I can promise, though, that I’ll be honest with you, the whole time, about what I’m feeling, about what I want--and I think that, if you do that, too, we’ll be okay. Either we find a way for this to work, or we stop before it becomes too weird.

“You’re my best friend, but not just because we spend the most time together: I can be myself with you. I can ask you a wild question like that, because I know that, even if you rejected it, I wouldn’t feel bad. I know this is a risky idea, but this is me we’re talking about: I’ve built an impenetrable fortress around my comfort zone, I avoid risk like the plague, but I think this would be worth it.

“Sorry, am I coming on strong? I don’t mean to try to sell this to you so hard. You can still say ‘no’, obviously: it just felt important that you understand my reasoning.”

Aurora was really trying not to laugh at her friend "You know.... If I wasn't so nice I'd let you keep rambling. It's cute," she said with a soft smile. "Might be the sweetest way anyone has ever asked me for casual sex honestly," she mused half to herself.

She considered a moment "I mean... You know me Isaac, I'm not usually the short to go for casual these days. Want to be wooed you know." She looked her friend over slowly "But... you're my friend. You care about me. So it's not exactly the same as just some random hook up." She bit her lip "You have to promise this won't make things weird between us," she finally proclaimed.

[a-dragons-journal]

hey, i know you’re na’vi link so i wanted to ask something. i’m questioning na’vi kin right now but can’t talk about it on my main blog because one of my friends follows me. they know about my alterhumanity and i post about it on that blog. however, i am white. very white. i’ve seen some people say that na’vi kin is cultural appropriation? i’m worried my alterhuman friends will try to accuse me of cultural appropriation if i confirm this kintype. any advice?

Okay, well, first off, I'm also white, so let's get that out of the way. However I have had this conversation with and have heard the opinions of Native American people with both opinions, so I can pass on my conclusions from that conversation, and if other people have opinions they want to add I welcome them to, especially Indigenous folks of course.

Thing number one: if it's not a choice, it can't be morally wrong. End of. You can't apply morality to things that aren't choices. You can engage with it in moral vs immoral ways, but simply having an identity that you didn't choose cannot be immoral.

Now obviously that doesn't apply to me, and it may or may not apply to you, so here's the rest of it:

Someone who's Na'vikin/link isn't claiming to be Indigenous here and now. We're not claiming to have direct experience with those struggles or the same amount of voice as Indigenous people do with regards to them. Na'vi are similar to and based on Indigenous people, but they aren't actually Indigenous people.

The Na'vi aren't based on any one Indigenous culture - although the Metkayina are much more heavily based on the Maori than anything else, the other clans we've seen aren't as specific, and are intentionally a mish-mash of dozens of Indigenous cultures. So... who is allowed to be Na'vikin/link, exactly? If the answer is "only people from the culture they're based on," then the real answer is no one. And about that:

This is really just a variant on the old "is kinning outside your race problematic" argument, and we came to a community-agreed-upon conclusion on that years ago: no. For a lot of reasons, including the above, and also the fact that if you're saying it's okay to identify as a wolf but not as a character of a different ethnicity than you... does that not imply that it's easier for a white person to connect that deeply with an animal than with a person of color? Is that not pretty damn problematic itself?

As a bonus round, if your answer then becomes "well, I guess you can be Na'vikin/link, but you shouldn't talk about it/engage with it in public": we know that suppressing kintypes is bad for you. We have learned this the hard way - how many stories are out there about how incredibly unhealthy that is for most people? You're now advocating for a known harm in order to avoid a hypothetical one. I don't think that's fair to anyone.

For what it's worth, I do think there are probably ways to engage with being a Na'vi that are appropriative, racist, and weird toward Indigenous people - just like there are plenty of ways to be a fan of the Na'vi that are appropriative, racist, and weird toward Indigenous people. But I don't think being a Na'vi is inherently that way. I don't think it's that hard to be Na'vi and be respectful of real-world Indigenous cultures that the Na'vi have parallels to. As long as you're not claiming to be Indigenous here and now, or have some ~special connection~ to Indigenous cultures because of your Na'vi 'type, or appropriating Indigenous things because they have Na'vi vibes, then I think you're fine.

But, as I said, I'm more than willing to hear other opinions if people have them! Please, add on in the notes. (I also feel like I'm forgetting a major point in my argument as to why it's fine for some reason, but can't get my hands around it, so hopefully I'm wrong and if not you might see an update to this post in the future when I remember. I've got a bit of a headache right now, so I'm a little bleary.)

[nuzipilled]

Hello! I have a question about your writing (since it's so SOSOSOS GOOD (and to be honest It got me to start writing))- how did you manage to write a character like J or V? (Characters who very much keep their emotions to themselves) I've been having trouble writing J personally, and was wondering if you had any tips? If not, thank you for your time anyways! ^^ I can't wait to see more of your art! -- Nervous Writer anon

hey!

so actually, V i’ve found to be probably one of the hardest characters to write for me personally because she’s a little more…subdued when it comes to her feelings compared to J who i think has slightly less emotional regulation but with the same intensity of reaction, if that makes sense.

i put alot of myself into J when i write her, not so much in the present day, but looking back on a particular point of my life where i was grieving the loss of a friend, had unchecked mental illness and was just generally not a very good person to myself or the people around me, even if i didn’t feel that way at the time. my best advice is let your characters when you write them feel ugly. dont sugarcoat the bad stuff, give them intrusive thoughts, make them act in ways they can’t quite wrap their head around. play with mental gymnastics, have them try and justify their actions to themselves, or to other characters—have said other characters call them out on it and either make the character you’re writing from the POV of either concede or double down depending on how stubborn they are.

conflict is good in fanfic. conflict breeds resentment or resolution, conflict makes you feel things. people tend to shy away from it which ends up watering down the scene for me as a reader and makes the payoff less enjoyable or satisfying for me to read. i’m really not the best at articulating myself but i hope this helped somehow!

[sturnswrites]

the couples menu

Chris Sturniolo x Fem!Reader

⤳ fluff

⤳ you and chris have been best friends for forever, but after an unexpected comment at your favorite diner, you both start to question how you really feel for each other.

---------------------------------------------

The diner buzzed with its usual evening crowd, the clinking of utensils and hum of conversation creating a comforting background noise. You and Chris had been coming here for years, ever since high school. There was something safe about this place—the worn vinyl booths, the sticky tabletops, the flickering neon sign outside that read “Best Pie in Town.”

Chris sat across from you, lazily stirring his Pepsi with his straw, his head tilted as he listened to you recount the latest chaos from your day.

“And then,” you said, waving your hands for emphasis, “he just walked away! Like he didn’t just spill an entire coffee on me. No apology, no offer to help. Just gone.”

Chris leaned back in the booth, shaking his head. “That’s wild. Honestly, I think you scare people sometimes. Maybe he thought you were gonna yell at him.”

“I do not scare people,” you protested, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Oh, you definitely do.” He smirked, a teasing glint in his eye.

“Chris!”

“Hey, I’m just saying. You’ve got that whole fiery thing going on. It’s intimidating.”

You huffed, crossing your arms, but the corners of your mouth betrayed you as they twitched upward.

“Anyway,” he said, leaning forward, “did you at least get a new coffee?”

“Of course. I wasn’t about to let him ruin my day and deprive me of caffeine.”

“That’s my girl.”

Your heart stuttered at the casual endearment, but you quickly brushed it off. Chris had always been like this—teasing, affectionate, comfortable. You had been best friends for, well, forever. It didn’t mean anything… right? 

Before you could spiral too much, the waitress appeared at your table with a laminated menu. She was probably in her forties, with kind eyes and a warm smile that felt like an invitation to trust her.

“You two are just the cutest,” she said, placing the menu between you.

You blinked, glancing at Chris, who looked equally confused. “Uh, thanks?”

“I thought you might like to see our Couples Special,” she continued, gesturing to the menu. “It’s perfect for lovebirds like you.”

Your jaw dropped. “Oh, we’re not—”

“Couple,” Chris finished quickly, holding up his hands. “We’re not a couple.”

The waitress looked between the two of you, clearly unconvinced, but she just smiled knowingly. “Well, if you change your mind, let me know.”

She walked away, leaving you both sitting there in stunned silence.

Chris was the first to break it, a laugh escaping his lips. “Well, that was… something.”

“She thought we were a couple,” you said, your voice tinged with disbelief.

He shrugged, leaning back in his seat. “Can you blame her? We’re here all the time, we’re laughing, having a great time. We probably do look like a couple.”

You stared at him, your heart doing that annoying flutter thing it had been doing lately whenever he was around. “You’re not seriously saying we should just go along with it.”

“I’m saying,” he said, picking up the menu, “ten bucks off dessert isn’t a bad deal.”

“Chris!”

“What? It’s practical. Plus, free dessert.”

You groaned, but you couldn’t help laughing. He always had a way of making things light, even when your stomach was doing anxious flips.

The rest of the meal went on mostly as usual, though you couldn’t shake the lingering tension from the waitress’s assumption. Every so often, Chris would catch your eye, a small smile tugging at his lips, like he was amused by the whole situation.

When the bill came, the waitress gave you another warm smile, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Hope you two have a lovely night.”

Chris thanked her, his voice smooth and easy, but you felt like your face might catch fire.

Outside, the evening air was cool against your flushed skin. You walked side by side toward Chris’s car, the silence between you heavy but not uncomfortable.

“Hey,” he said suddenly, stopping just short of the car.

You turned to face him, your pulse quickening at the serious look on his face. “What’s up?”

He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, his gaze flicking to the ground before meeting yours. “Can we talk about tonight? The whole ‘couple menu’ thing?”

Your stomach twisted, heart beating faster and faster. “What about it?”

“I don’t know,” he said, letting out a small laugh. “It just… it got me thinking. About us.”

Your heart was pounding now, but you tried to keep your voice steady. “What about us?”

He hesitated, running a hand through his hair. “I mean, don’t you think it’s weird? Like, why does everyone always assume we’re together?”

You shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “I guess we spend a lot of time together. People just assume.”

“Yeah, but I mean, I think it’s more than that,” he said, stepping closer. “It’s the way we are around each other. We laugh, we tease, we’re comfortable. I don’t blame people for thinking we’re a couple because… sometimes, I think about it too.”

You froze, his words hitting you like a tidal wave. Your voice came down to a whisper from the shock you were feeling. “You… what?” 

He sighed, his breath visible in the chilly air. “Y/N, I’ve been thinking about it for a while now. Years actually. And tonight just made me realize I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel something for you. I’m in love with you. I have been for a long time.”

Your breath caught, your heart hammering in your chest. “Chris…”

“I get it if you don’t feel the same way,” he rushed on, his voice tinged with nervousness. “I just… I had to tell you. Even if it messes things up, I couldn’t keep it in anymore. I can’t keep moving on wondering what could be between us.”

You stared at him, your emotions swirling in a confusing mess of shock, joy, and fear. Finally, you took a shaky step forward. “Chris, I’ve been trying to ignore it, but I feel the same way. I think I’ve been in love with you for years, and I was just too scared to admit it. I’ve tried so hard to move past it because I never wanted it to be the reason that I… lost you.” as you swallowed hard unsure of what he was going to say next. 

His eyes widened, hope flickering across his face. “You mean that?”

You nodded, a small laugh escaping your lips. “Yeah. I mean that.”

Relief washed over him, and before you could say anything else, he pulled you into a tight hug, his arms wrapping around you like he never wanted to let go.

“I was so scared I’d ruin everything,” he murmured into your hair, placing a soft kiss on top of your head.

“You didn’t ruin anything,” you said softly, pulling back just enough to look at him. “If anything, you made it better.”

He smiled, his eyes shining as he leaned his forehead against yours. “So… are we a couple now?”

You grinned, your heart feeling lighter than it had in years. “I guess we are.”

“Good,” he said, his voice steady. “Because I don’t think I could ever let you go.”

And just like that, everything between you and Chris fell into place, as if it had been waiting for this moment all along.

---------------------------------------------

still don’t really know what I’m doing but this was fun to write 😛

⭒ margot

[chuusheartattck]

HAUNTED

Chapter 5: Purely platonic

You barely got finished getting ready when you heard a knock at your door. You opened it to see Xiao standing in the hallway. He looked nicely put together and you can smell a faint scent of his signature cologne. It wasn’t anything too overpowering and it smelled nice.

At least it wasn’t the Dior Sauvage that Heizou always wears.

“See? You got ready in time,” Xiao commented in an amused tone.

You shut the door behind you, “Yeah whatever. Where is this place anyways?”

“It’s down the street. We can walk there,” He stated as you both began walking down the hall.

It was a silent walk to the elevator and the ride down. Every time you were with Xiao, there was always a lingering silence. It wasn’t anything awkward but rather comforting. He wasn’t one with many words and you were okay with that.

As you both made your ways outdoors, you winced at the bright sunlight. You do go outside but you spent most of last night silently crying in your bed. The sun didn’t do any good for your puffy eyes.

“I’m pretty sure it’s this way,” Xiao pointed straight ahead of you guys.

He began to cross the street and you followed after him.

“Do you even know where you’re going?” You looked at him strangely.

“Yes.”

“Right. Well have you been to this place before?”

“No but I heard some girls talk about it in my class.”

The two of you looked at each other and stifled a laugh.

“If the place doesn’t exist then what?” You questioned.

“It does because we’re already here.”

You looked up and saw an ice cream parlor in front of you. You were surprised you haven’t noticed it earlier. Considering it’s right in front of the university.

“Did you know it was an ice cream shop?” You glanced over at Xiao.

“Yup,” He muttered as he opened the door for you. He didn’t sound too convincing.

From the moment you two entered, you were hit with the sweet scents. It was occupied by mostly students so you didn’t feel out of place. The soft music playing made it feel cozy. You and Xiao stood in line and looked at all the ice cream on display.

The two of you ordered and paid. You then found a small corner where you two could sit.

Once you sat down, Xiao began to talk, “How are your classes?”

“They’re alright. Psychology is a cool subject and Professor Lisa is a good teacher,” You took a bite of your ice cream. “What about you?”

“Classes are fine but I don’t think I’ll do much with a computer science degree,” Xiao lightly chuckled. “My classmates are a bit weird. I never thought I’d see a guy pull up to class with an anime girl body pillow.”

You almost choked, “I’m sorry what?”

Xiao nodded and leaned back in his seat, “He kinda smells bad too.”

“Yeah I wonder why,” You giggled.

Xiao smiled softly at you. Despite being in the same friend group, the two of you never hung out one on one like this. You mostly stuck by your close friends in the group and he stuck by his.

You also never realized how good looking he is. You didn’t think he was ugly but you never appreciated his good looks. His parents definitely high five every time they see him.

It’s a pity you two are in the same friend group. You think it’d ruin the dynamic if you and Xiao became a thing.

“Y/n are you okay?” Xiao waved his hand in front of your face.

However, it’s not a bad thing to secretly admire him.

“Huh?” You snapped out of your thoughts.

“You’ve been zoning out a lot lately. Are you sure everything is fine?” He looked at you with concern in his eyes.

Of course he’s concerned. He is your friend after all.

So why do you feel flustered?

“I guess I still feel guilty about everything but you already know that,” You waved off his concerns. “Why did you choose computer science anyways? I always thought you’d choose economics like Hu Tao.” You tried changing the subject.

Xiao shrugged before responding, “Because Professor Zhongli teaches the class.”

“You don’t like him?”

“It’s not that. He’s a family friend. It’d feel weird to be in his class because he knew me since I was a kid.”

“Oh I get it! You got accepted through nepotism!” You replied, stifling a laugh.

“Shouldn’t Scara and Navia be considered nepo babies as well?” Xiao deadpanned.

“Oh yeah Scara’s mom and her wife did go here. Huh. I wonder if they’ve experienced anything-”

Xiao shoved a spoonful of his ice cream into your mouth before you could finish your sentence, “Don’t worry about that for now.” He quietly muttered.

.

The two of you were talking for a couple of hours. It seemed like it was only you guys in the room. It wasn’t until you heard commotion that caused you to lose to focus.

“I can’t believe you would do this!” A voice screamed in the corner.

You and Xiao turned to see an angry lady yelling at a man and another woman.

“Babe it’s not what it looks like!” Explained the man.

“Oh really? You said you were going to work but here you are with her!”

The shop went quiet and you could hear people gasping. You and Xiao gave each other glances as the scene unfolded.

“What a cheater,” You whispered to Xiao.

“I knew you two were fucking! I saw the texts! I can’t believe you would throw away our marriage to go have a fling with MY SISTER!” The lady made sure to emphasize the sister part.

“Hold on. Sister?” Your jaw dropped.

The poor workers tried to intervene but had no luck.

“Wait-” The man got cut off by his wife punching him in the face.

You almost let out a laugh. You silently gave her praise for beating her cheating husband.

“What the fuck is happening?” Xiao whispered to you.

Before you could even respond, the lady’s sister tried pushing her. This led to the woman slapping the absolute shit out of her. Which in turn, started an all out brawl between the two sisters. The husband was silently watching.

“Fight! Fight! Fight!” The entire ice cream shop was now recording and cheering on.

You and Xiao were too stunned to speak. Hair was being pulled and punches were being thrown. It was more exciting than the Jake Paul and Mike Tyson fight.

However, you weren’t trying to be caught in the middle. Therefore, you both silently left and laughed about it while walking back to campus.

As you were walking, he made sure he was on the side where the road was. You weren’t sure if he knew about the sidewalk rule but the tiny detail didn’t go unnoticed.

Eventually when the two of you got back to your dorm.

“I’m sure Lumine is already back,” You began to speak. “But thank you for trying to make me feel better. I had fun today.” You smiled to him.

Xiao faintly smiled back, “Just call me or anyone in the group if you need anything. You’re a good friend to us.”

Ouch.

“How desperate can I be? I can’t be pining over a friend like this,” You thought to yourself.

Xiao gave you a farewell side hug. You went inside and immediately threw yourself onto your bed.

“Um hello?” Lumine was sitting on her bed reading a book. “I heard you talking with someone outside.” She gave you a puzzling look.

You turned over to your side to face her, “I was hanging out with Xiao today. He wanted to comfort me I guess.”

Lumine raised her eyebrow, “Just the two of you?”

You nodded.

“How was it?” She asked, not looking up from her book.

“It was pretty chill. We just ate ice cream and talked for hours. I think it’s the most I ever talked to him.”

“He is pretty quiet I guess. He’s close with my brother and Kazuha anyways.”

“I wish I gotten to know him sooner. He’s not a bad person.”

“It’s good to hang out with your friends.”

There was a slight pause, “What if it could be more than friends?”

That statement caused Lumine to close her book and fully pay attention, “Y/n. Please don’t tell me-”

You cut her off, “Listen! Hear me out-”

“You have a crush on Xiao?!” Lumine fully interrupted you.

You tried shushing her, afraid he might still be lingering outside.

“I don’t have a crush on him!” You began to explain. “I just think he’s attractive that’s all. He has always been a friend but we only hung out in group settings. This time it was different and we talked for a while.”

Lumine sighed, “At least he’s a good guy. If you want I can have Aether help you.”

“No!” You blurted out. “I’m sure Aether could be a good wingman but I don’t want anyone else finding out about this. It’s only a small attraction nothing too crazy.” You tried reassuring her.

“You’re hopeless,” Lumine rolled her eyes and started reading again.

You were now staring at the ceiling. Silently contemplating what you should do. Your thoughts began to drift, wondering if Xiao would ever think of you being more than friends.

Masterlist II Previous II Next

A/N: What’s your fav ice cream flavor? Mine’s mint chocolate. Also mb if you’re lactose intolerant for the sake of the story lets just say you don’t shit when you have dairy. Also i went to the sabrina carpenter concert and it felt like a full circle moment for me listening to espresso live 😭

Synopsis: Friends start their first year at Teyvat University. The school that is known for its paranormal activity. The group doesn’t truly believe the rumors until they start to experience how frightening the school can be. What happens when the friend group investigates the truth of the hauntings?

Taglist: @morgyyyyyyy @state-of-grac3 @trulyylee @jellichuu @practicoi @yuminako @eyshamuun @kuniz-darlingg @heartsforni-ki @lalalaloveallmydays @animeobsessed56 @samyayaya @lloovvv @adepticiaoo @cherrysnows @miisamores @strayharmony943 @xionri @kazumiku @bethleeham @sukisprettyface @jayzioxx @kaikaidenkai @js-a-silly-little-guy @jiminscarmex @i-am-me-and-you @crimxeorcremeexistspeacefully @brideofbriar @floweringanna @miy-svz @vitanye

[diangelodork]

HERE IS LOUIS’ E3 COMMENTARY!! (i warned him thoroughly going into this episode i promise)

also, if yall have any questions as to what he’s referencing, feel free to ask me bc i always have to ask for clarification 😭😭

Dead Boy Detectives Episode 3, Initial Notes:

Suicide disclaimer, bouta get real

I still love these title cards

Picture of Dorian grey reference does not go unappreciated

What do you mean there were never meant to be this many people? As in not this many ghosts in the land of the living? Or… bad vibes Edwin

Holy shit Charles is wearing suspenders

K so ghosts can just do that

Is there meaning behind the snake in the title sequence? I can connect a lot of the other shit but not that

Jenny. Jenny episode. Jenny arc. Lesbian butcher backstory

Oh he big time jelly

Niko what are your other three favorite buildings??

Also how do you fuck ghosts asking for a friend

Jenny is so real

Well observed Niko, well observed (best character)

“Back in the 1990s when people could afford shit like that” lmao

Lilith Adams first wife in the apocryphal texts I believe

Spits alt reality Conan Gray

Would.

Monty honeypot goes crazy

SHE HAS YAOI LMAO

Why’s it always gotta be bureaucracy I just wanna have a good time man

The Scotch(?) cop vs vaguely American notary truly a match up for the ages

The music here is always on point

Dad smashed tape with hammer (early 1900s British Dad)

OH MY GOD THEYRE GONNA SHOW US THE MURDER OH MY GOD

OH MY LORD

HOLY SHIT

MEN WILL DO LITERALLY ANYTHING TO AVOID GOING TO YOU KNOW WHAT NEVER MIND HOLY SHIT GOD JESUS CHRIST

it’s the kids that get me 😖

Yes it’s a loop Edwin congrats

Giving me Slaughterhouse-Five vibes I.e. trauma makes you unstuck in time, here it’s a loop though. Which also tracks. I’m reminded of “whenever I close my eyes, I find myself back in Stalingrad” type shit

Niko living her best life

Also domestic abuse, trauma, themes et cetera et cetera (gas mask guy at the beginning)

God Charles you know this shit is my weakness

Ahh “you will never leave me” dissolution of suburbia or some shit, male need for love and intimacy expressed through the need for control, et cetera

The Bell Jar is my favorite book! I don’t think this is a reference though… although… voices in the head…

No Niko you could have had such a comfy evening damn it

OH GOD IS HE PART OF THE LOOP NOW

Yep.

His personal emotional pain sinks him into the cycle of trauma and suffering?

Themes effect of emotional pain and trauma on the mind

Control, always watching

Feeds off of negativity… something themes connection

Also “I’ve seen them sulking around hell is metal as fuck and deeply upsetting

GET OUT OF THERE GANG

And Brandon goes to hell

“It’s not what you did it’s what you do”

Hell yeah Niko scare those evil things

Also Niko’s fit is eating????

The honeypot twink gives you the astrology book instant smash

The old “I love those dudes tell me all about em” maneuver

GUYS I ANNOYED ONE OF MY FRIENDS WNOUGH TO WATCH DBDA!! im gonna be posting his live updates in the reblogs HEHEHEHEHE (the score is what got him to cave 👹)

[dthroned-sameurl]

…