#it makes no sense you'd have to be insane or stupid

[corpocyborg]

it's honestly a tragedy that so few people chose morinth over samara that they didn't even bother putting morinth in me3. like i don't blame the players bc the narrative clearly discourages most players by positioning choosing morinth as the evil choice. but i swear to god if you actually talk to her after choosing her you will see it is not that simple. the situation isn't nearly as clear cut and black & white as they make it out to be and either choice could be justified as the "good" or "evil" choice.

[thebestsetter]

"If I was a color, I think I'd be yellow"

"Why?"

"Non-important. I just feel it"

He has never seen yellow the same way again. It was everywhere. He looked for it everywhere. And everytime, without fail, he remembered you. A pretty sunflower. Your blinding smile. A little minion figure he saw on the mall. You crying after watching the latest "Despicable Me" movie (and him laughing at your cute stupid crying face). A silly Winnie the Pooh keychain on a crying child's backpack. You talking to the said sad kid you both saw on the street and trying to cheer them up, playing with them and making sure they were smiling, their worries melting away in the speed of light (you'd make such a great mother, he thinks, making his face grow bright red right after). The sun in all of it's glory. You. You. You. You.

You were like a plague infecting his brain and soul. He couldn't focus on anything anymore because you were always running through his head, the sound of your laugh playing inside his mind 24/7 and driving him half insane. He couldn't take it anymore. He had to ask you why you said to him you were yellow. How did you know? What made you so sure of it? Why you had put him under this spell in which everytime he catches just the smallest and quickest glimpse of yellow, the image of you came flooding his mind and senses? Did you even think about him the same amount of times he thought about you? He didn't know. He couldn't know unless he asked you. And it was not fair. Not fair at all.

"Remember that day you told me you were yellow?"

"Yeah" you said, stopping mid-sip of your milkshake and looking at him with your beautiful a confused face "Yeah, I do. Why?"

"You never gave me an answer to the question I asked you that day" he ignored how the first sentence you said made his heart fluster and his stomach go silly.

"Which question?" How humilliating. He's gonna have to swallow his pride and repeat it. Utterly ridiculous.

"Why?" He couldn't care less about how hurt his ego was right now "Actually, how. How did you know you're yellow?"

"Easy. It's 'cause yellow and purple are opposites, so they look good when put together"

"What?"

"Yellow and purple are on opposite sides of the color wheel, silly! So they're complementary colors and go well together"

"I know that. But what does purple have to do with you being yellow?"

"You remind me of purple"

And suddenly, he realized yellow has never been alone. Next to the beautiful sunflower, there's a bellflower, that looks gloom when compared to the yellow plant, but basks in the joy it seems to bring nonetheless. Just like you are the one to bring joy to his life. Beside the minion figure, there's a figure of those bad purple minions, and while one is considered pretty, funny and nice, the other one is scary, angry and people tend to avoid them. It reminds him of you two: extroverted and kind you and introverted and rude him. Perfect opposites. Perfect together. He hadn't noticed before, but the child's backpack was purple, and this memory was followed by the the sound of the laughs you and the little fella shared. Kids should always be happy, smiling, harmless and having fun. Comfortable. Safe. In that way, you make him feel like a little kid. Your warm embrace, so protective and oh so motherly. He feels relaxed around you. Overjoyed. And even though he doesn't smile a lot, you always seem to make him want to crack a real, big grin. It must be a superpower of yours. Lastly, the sun, always followed by the moon. Even though they don't "meet" often, when they do, they create one of the prettiest phenomena known to humanity: an eclipse. They're always apart, but when they're together, it's so beautiful that the whole world stops to see.

"That's cringy. And kinda stupid."

"No it's not! We're a perfect duo! Just admit it!!"

"'Course we are"

"What did you say? I didn't quite hear you!!"

"I'm not saying it again."

So don't act surprised when your wedding is full of beautiful sunflowers and bellflowers. You should see it coming. They look good together right? Just like you two.

RIN ITOSHI, Kunigami Rensuke, Nagi Seishiro, MICHAEL KAISER, Barou Shohei, SAE ITOSHI, TODOROKI SHOTO, SHINSOU HITOSHI, BAKUGOU KATSUKI, USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI, KAGEYAMA TOBIO, TSUKISHIMA KEI (his name's kanji meaning moon is just so-- perfect fot this fic) , Osamu Miya, Suna Rintarou, MEGUMI FUSHIGURO + any character you think fits this!!

Curiosity!!!: Bellflowers mean "everlasting love and commitment" in flower language, while sunflowers mean steadfast love!!

Masterlist

Wrote this in the middle of my portuguese class. I hate it. I'm in love with him

[charlesxavierthirster3000]

Loops and Steel — L.Howlett

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Mutant!Reader

Summary: Your love for crocheting is apparent across the whole school, but a sense of reluctance clouds your vision at the thought of gift-giving towards Logan.

CW/Tags: fluff, kinda drags idk I'm sorry, REALLY stupid ending, not proofread I'm too lazy and it's sinus season, we have time manipulation powers guys, no use of Y/N, don't like don't read.

A/N: HELLO long time no fic guys (I'm going insane please help) this is honestly like so stupid idk why it's so FUCKING long hello???? Ik it's alr in the tags but the ending is like so extremely fucking stupid I'm humiliated....... Anyways guys try to enjoy this hahahaahhaha don't flame me pls

WC: 2.4K (holy SHIT girl) / Navigation

You had a thing amongst the X-Men— you were notorious for crocheting impromptu gifts for everyone, predominantly for winter use. No one in their right mind would voluntarily wear yarn in the summer, unless they had a thing for heat strokes. 

Well, to be fair, the craft store situated nearest to the mansion only sold the hefty type of yarn, so you physically couldn’t make anything light. But still.

Your hyperfixation on fibre arts had reached most of them— Scott with earmuffs which could be worn comfortably over his visor without disrupting the toggle, Storm and her suit-complimenting beanies, and Rogue who had received so many pairs of gloves she had to dedicate a whole drawer for them in her room. At this point, you'd woven your way through the whole mansion, pretty much everyone having received a small gift; the students with a 70% chance of having a simple keychain.

Everyone, except Logan.

It's not that you weren't fond of him—in fact, he was even up there with Rogue and the others— it's just.. he was always so reclusive. Yeah, you could hold a decently consistent conversation with him without breaking a sweat, but he seemed the type to brush gifts or tokens of appreciation off without a second thought. That’s what made you contemplate bestowing your handmade offerings of affection upon him.

If you wanted to say you were afraid of impending rejection, it wouldn’t be true. You’d handed some keychains to a few uptight kids you taught, and the sight of the metallic glint attached to a scrap of vibrant yarn in the rubbish didn’t affect you. Perhaps it was because they were only a clique of immature youngsters, but your ego wasn’t usually even touched that easily no matter the level of maturity.

So why were you so uncertain?

Inwardly, you somewhat knew that there was a chance— you craved his validation. Which was really, very pathetic. Your ego was not nearly as inflated as his, but acknowledging the info would undoubtedly have an effect on it, so you kept the classified data under lock and key. Well, maybe Charles knew. But even if he did, he fortunately kept your dignity intact.

Nevertheless, you’d gotten tipsy humiliatingly early in the night after spending quality time with Ororo and ended up stumbling back to your room, determined to overcome your inner wimp and make something for Logan. You brainstormed for approximately 7 minutes before coming with a conclusion; gloves. Just like the many pairs you'd created for his ‘friend’. 

‘I’m your friend, not your father,’ the idiot stated. Bullshit. Abso-fucking-lute bullshit. You heard them when passing by in the corridor on the way to a class and had to restrain using your powers to rewind that short burst of time just so you could shut Logan up and shove those words right back up his ass.

But unfortunately, you realised a little too much time later— after the alcohol-established period of boldness had subsided, of course— that you were still very much a pussy. Perhaps you were lost in the suppression of the alcohol, because you'd somehow already ended up with a pair of specialised gloves with slits, strong magnets fastened to the edges which accommodated the adamantium of Logan's claws.

If everything fell into accordance with your brainstorming, the magnets would automatically adjust to the position of the protruding metal under his skin every time he slid them on. Damn it, why weren't you this creative when you were sober? Maybe you should drink more. If only you had his healing factor; then your liver wouldn't be fucked for life.

You glanced up at the clock on your bedroom wall, bracing yourself for the ridiculously early time unavoidably displayed upon the aged face. 

10:21 p.m.

Fucking hell. Basically the whole goddamn mansion was still up, the younger kids an exception. It was a weekend, after all. 

After a short-lived interval of contemplation, you concluded two options. You had the option of using your energy and abandoning the project without physically undoing the whole thing; pretending it never happened, or B, actually fucking overcome your disconcerting fear of giving Logan a gift.

You'd deeply considered the first option.

Very. Deeply.

But in a self-ball-kicking resolution, you chucked your own uncertainty far, far down your throat and decided on simply marching over to Logan and handing him the navy pair of gloves.

⁠⊰⁠⊹ฺ

Mentally uttering repeated strings of curses, you approached his bedroom door— you figured that was where he was, anyway. He wasn't in his usual place; the grimy couch in front of the fireplace which was almost literally hanging on by a thread. 

Earlier, you'd taken a glimpse at the contents of the fridge in hopes of a tasty Swiss roll miraculously appearing, but instead noticed the fact that there was no beer. To conclude, Logan was probably restraining himself from impaling Scott and fermenting him into his own ‘Cyclops-made Heineken’.

Your hands fidgeted with the stitches on the openings for his claws, thumb running over the cool, metallic surface of the small magnets. God, why were you stressing this so hard? Logan was just a guy with kitty claws and a half-assed personality. He wasn't that intimidating, especially when dormant and presumably partially asleep by now. He was—literally— an old man at heart. The dude probably couldn't even stay up past 11:30.

Ultimately, you took a sharp breath before raising your free hand and firmly rapping at the door twice. Your ears picked up the faint rustle of a page turning and the brief thud of a book cover falling shut.

He was reading? Damn, guess your old man description was accurate after all. A shift of position, and the creak of a wooden chair groaning under his weight. “It's open.”

You skeptically twist the knob and push on the door, poking your head through the crack before stepping in and gently pushing it shut behind you. He's leant against his table in a semblance of leisure, gaze fixed on the metal of his dog tags as he wipes them with a thin tissue.

Your own gaze drifts to his tousled sheets, zeroing in on the faint outline of a bulky book poorly concealed by the covers. You have to curb the grin threatening to spread onto your face at the sight. He's embarrassed. 

Tragically, an unsuccessfully stifled sound somewhere between a snort, a giggle, and a spray bottle escapes your throat, “I didn't know you could read.”

The hands on his necklace halt as he looks up at you cautiously. “...What?”

You smile with feigned innocence, “I didn't know you read.”

He cocks an eyebrow, scoffing out a dry laugh. “That wasn't what ya said the first time. And I don't read.”

You suppress a snicker at his clearly veiled shame and nod over to the vague outline under his blanket. “What's that, then? Sure as hell isn't a woman.”

His eyes narrow in on you as he rises, sauntering over menacingly like he was in some type of slasher. Your smile only widens. You decide to just taunt him even more, even though it probably wasn't the greatest idea to do so to someone with metal claws. But even if you did get attacked, you could travel back and act as if it never happened.

He glares down at you, head tilted. You thought you glimpsed a twinge of humour behind the hazel, and it only adds fuel to the fire. “Whatcha readin’? Pride and Prejudice? Little Women? I presume it's a classic— y’know, considering your ag—”

An unprompted, somewhat restrained grin crawls onto his lips as he cuts you off, “Why’re you here, bub? ‘Cause 'm sure as hell you’re not here just to ask for a goddamn book review.”

Fuck. Gloves.

Heart abruptly starting to hammer in your chest, you nonchalantly shove a hand in your pocket and squeeze the coarse yet soft material of the acrylic yarn. You swallow thickly, fidgeting with a fuzzy you somehow already managed to get your fingers on, heat dragging down your ears and spreading across your face. Gosh, you probably look mortified right now.

You swear under your breath, fumbling the gloves out of your pocket. “Right—” you clear your throat, displaying them out in front of you like it was a grenade with the pin pulled. A flash of curiosity crosses his features; a cloud moving past the sun. Well, the other way round. If that was scientifically possible.

“I made these for you.” You toss them at him and he swiftly catches them mid-air, all while you stare at the fibre like you half expected each individual stitch to spontaneously combust. You unfortunately weren't Scott, so you couldn’t laser-eye the thing. “Figured freezing your fingers off might— uh—cramp your little ‘best there is at what I do’ thingy.”

He gives the intricate stitching a once-over, turning the solid navy gloves over in his hands. A smirk tugs at the corners of his lips and an eyebrow raises curiously as he regards the claw openings. “Made ‘em for me?” 

The rhetorical inquiry makes your eyes almost instinctively roll. “No. Made ‘em for fucking Magneto. Of course it's for you. Who the fuck else has claws?”

He slips one on and hoists an accusing eyebrow at you. “Don’t get ya panties in a twist, Time Bomb. Look like Pyro jus’ blew a fire in your face.”

You defensively fold your arms in front of your chest, trying your level best to ignore the itch to lift a certain finger situated between your index and ring. “Hey, you're not exactly a joyride to talk to, let alone give a gift.”

He scoffs, sliding the other glove on and flexing his fingers. “You tryna bend my bones? I can feel ‘em followin’ the magnets. Neat trick, though.” Unexpectedly, he pops his claws out with a snikt, prompting you to reflexively flinch and step back. “Jeez, Claws! Watch the face.”

He groans, “God, you're a diva.”

“What can I say? Sort of a package deal with the whole ‘Time-Waster’ schtick. You're way more of a diva than I am anyway,” you grin sarcastically bright.

There's a glimmer of amusement in the green-ness of his eyes, and you unfortunately find yourself reveling in it.

Turning on his heel, he clicks his tongue once and nods in a gesture for you to get on the bed. The action takes you aback by the unbridled directness of it, but you end up crawling up onto the cool covers regardless. “I was just here to give you those, y’know? I can leave if you want.”

He somewhat shakes his head as he settles on the chair opposite your position perched on the edge of the bed. “Stick around, ‘s not like I mind,” the words are delivered in his usual sardonic tone, but you detect an underlying sense of insistence.

Fuck. Was he laying the charm on real thick tonight, or were you just delusional?

You bite the inside of your cheek, scooching back and settling in a little more confidently. “Stick around?” you echo, teasing lilt in your tone despite how much his reassurance affects you. “Since when do you enjoy company? Or do you just wanna sit over there and brood while I talk my tongue off?”

He huffs, the noise more entertained than anything. “Don’t mind when it's yours. Quieter than anythin’ else anyway.”

The words hit you like a blow to the gut with how casual the delivery is— as if he was just making his usual comment on the tactics he could use to get rid of Scott. Inevitably, the warmth already lingering on your face strengthens as you find a response. 

“Quieter? High praise. I'm flattered, Howlett. And here I was under the impression that I’m ‘Most Likely to Talk Your Ear Off’ according to my old yearbook,” you laugh dryly, attempting to ease the nearly tangible tension hanging in the air between the two of you. 

That half-smirk makes its way back onto his lips as his gaze turns a touch more intent, “Ain't news to me. Still want ya to stay.”

Holy shit. Is he trying to cause you an agonisingly slow death? You were clearly trying to manage this whole interaction with sarcasm, but he wasn't letting any of it slide.

You swallow cautiously, throat suddenly a narrow pathway leading down to your rapidly flipping stomach. Hauling your legs up onto the bed and placing your weight back onto the headboard, you try to alleviate the voice in your head convincing you this was something further than platonic. “Wow. If I knew you were this sentimental I would've prepared a speech before I came in here. Gloves can't nearly be enough.”

He snorts, “Don't push it, bub.”

You raise your hands in feigned surrender, a grin spreading across your lips. “Okay, okay. Fine,” you mutter, brushing imaginary lint off your sleeve in a futile attempt to compose yourself. “How do you like the gloves anyway?”

He looks down at his hands in his lap like he'd just realised he was still wearing them. “Warm.”

You gawk at him incredulously. “Warm? C’mon, I deserve better than that, Log. I crocheted ‘em drunk. Practically risked my fingers. Y’know how I am under the influence— could’ve found a way to fucking impale myself with the hook or something.”

He grunts absentmindedly— gaze seemingly too focused on your face as if he was admiring you more than the gloves. But like him snapping out of a trance, his attention is almost immediately diverted back to the stitching when he processes your statement. “I'll be usin’ ‘em. Smart move for the claws. Don't have to destroy ya hard work when I pop ‘em out.”

Sighing dramatically, you lean back against the back of the bed with your arms splayed behind your head. Taking on your usual route, you taunt him in a flat tone, “Guess that's the highest form of Logan Howlett appreciation I'm gonna get tonight. Have I reached my quota? It's a shame; I'm such a thoughtful, empathetic, charisma—”

A low chuckle graces his reaction as he cuts you off, “God, really testin’ your luck tonight, aren't ya?”

You shrug, a giggle bubbling up your own throat— some of the emotion-filled tension lifting off the atmosphere as you get back to your usual banter, “What can I say? Maybe next time I'll make you a tophat— perhaps a red tailcoat to go with it, if I'm feeling real dedicated.”

He glances up at you skeptically, an eyebrow once again raised as he scrutinises your expression, “Oddly specific, Time Bomb. Ya know somethin’ I don't?”

You beam at him, observing the way it only enhances his skepticism. “Possibly. Somewhere in the far, far future, you're one of the greatest there are.”

Special credits to this song for making me push through the final stretch of this fucking fic 😭😭😭😭

[unsuredreamer]

Savior

Bridget Hearts 🩷 x fem reader

it's so shit I'm so sorry, but i feel like every idea just flees out of my head atm 🥲

"I will destroy you!" Uliana roared, preparing herself to run after Bridget. Eating too many flamingo feathers had its side effects, and it was about time she found out that when someone says 'don't do it' you simply listen.

It enraged you. She was so stupid, yet everyone feared her. How so? You'd never understand why they didn't stand up to her. What would she do? Run after you? It was all she was capable of, after all.

You needed to put a stop to her dumb frantics, so you stepped up with your dagger, holding it close to her neck.

"Oooo, we dont wanna do that, do we?" You grinned, basically threatening her with death. It was exciting, thrilling. Being just a step away from getting rid of someone, having that power over them. Being in a possession of their life thread, having the scissors steady in your hand. It was amusing to you. The goosebump on your skin shows from the rush you felt deep inside.

The dagger you held so close it was pinning her skin, making a slight dent. Her breath on hold. "I suggest you step away from our princess of hearts or you'll make an excellent sushi tonight, darling." You mirrored her peers' shocked expressions. None of them daring to step up to you. You were feared amongst them, being slightly older than the rest of the students, and kind of crazy too. It had its advantages having your twisted history behind.

"Marinated octopus. How does it sound?" Or would you like something last season? Shrimp pasta?" You smiled ominously, pricking the sharp end deeper in her neck, almost making it bleed. You could sense the blade cutting her first skin, making her immediately stumble back.

"You- You're mad!" She managed to yell out, holding her fresh wound before she took her turn, walking away, or should you say, basically running away. Your graceful dagger flew after her pinning itself right beside her head, trimming her friends hair in the process.

"Might be, just a little bit" you giggled, making the blade return to you with a swift wave of your hand. Turning yourself to the other group, you fixed your button-up shirt. Red and Chloe standing in awe at how well mannered you seemed even though you almost committed murder right in front of their eyes. Red thanking you internally for saving her mother. "But aren't we all?" You grinned, your cheshire cat-like smile making everyone around you blush. You were charming, to say the least, although it was not thanks to your name. "Look at that," you pouted, pointing at the shattered plate in front of you. "She wasted such good cupcakes. What a shame"

"Don't worry, Y/n, i think I have enough for everyone!" Bridget smiled brightly. "Thank you for your savior service" She bowed jokingly, giving you one of her famous smiles in return.

"And look at you cupcake, How could anyone not like you?" You waved your hands in the air, making her broken belongings whole again. Holding it our for her. "This plate was too pretty to be broken. Dont let yourself be broken, beautiful, " you winked before dissappearing into thin air. Red and Chloe blinking a couple of times to check if they saw right.

"Woah, who was that? Hot, sexy and amusing?" Red spoke up, getting a glare in return from both Bridget and Chloe. "I'm just saing" the girl threw her arms in the air in a defensive manner.

"That was Y/n. We don't really know much about her" Bridget dreamily explained, holding her beautifully decorated plate close to her chest.

"Only that she's done some horrible stuff. And she's kinda insane" Ella blabbered, rolling the cupcake trolley.

"It was for good!. And she's right, we're all mad here" Bridget butt in, snapping herself out of her daydreams.

" If you can call cutting someone's lim-"

"Ella, they don't have to know that" bridget laughed nervously, taking another plate from her trolley "She's not that bad how they make her out to be-here you go-" The pink haired princess walked around giving out more of her delicious cupcakes. "She is actually so nice-"

"She commits crime at least 3 times a week, and her go-to 'entertaining' hobby is watching people stumble and fall over this tree root" Ella butt in pointing at the object.

"But, she paints me pink roses and brings me many different ingredients for my sweets. Isn't that nice?" Bridget hummed, making red and chloe look at themselves

"Do you think what i think?" Red whispered to her fellow 'friend', the other just nodding her head.

-

"You know, I think you should ask Bridget out for castlecoming" Red blurted out while walking after/stalking you around the school.

"Yeah? Why is that so?" You giggled, holding a book about baking. You were currently at the library, just trying to make your way to the comfy corner made specifically for residents of the library. Unfortunately, you couldn't use it if you weren't reading a book of some sort. Hence why you took ahold of whatever, with intentions of taking a nap in the place.

"Well, you seem to be liking her, aaaand she seems to be liking you too" You laughed, you loved being in these kinds of situations.

"Well loves, what made you think I like this princess?" You looked up from your book, you let's be real, were not paying attention to. The question made them rethink everything.

"You-She-em" Chloe tried, but nothing made sense

"I guess she's alright" You grinned at their troubled expressions.

Princess of hearts was more than alright. She was everything and nothing at the same time. She was the air you breathed and the hard ground you walked on. She is like the ocean breeze early in the morning, the sunbeams lightly musking your face and the cold water splashing your body. She lit up the whole room with her bright eyes and cute smile. Like a walk through a rainy forest, she made you content and calm. Her delicate and soft features fairly contrast to your strong ones. It made you only more drawn to her.

"Wouldn't you want to take her out?"

"You're very persistent. interesting" you hummed "And why would I do that, Red my love?" You flew up from your comfortable place, spinning around doing flips. Red grimacing at the nickname, Chloe glaring at you "Chill Charming" The snort you let out made chloe burst out one of her own "I will take your mommy to the dance Red. Don't want her turning out evil, do we?"

"How do you-?"

"Well, I might have or have not overheard you twoooo, talking maybee" You flew circling them both, extra dragging your words making them annoyed "Aboouut an evil Queen who likes to behead people, whom also happened to be your mom and she sentenced your mom to death" You grinned spitting it all out in one breath "Crazy little woman"

"So now you know"

"Yeah, that's what I said. Are you deaf darling?" She was ready to jump you but got stopped by Chloe, thankfully. "I'm going, my children. I have to make a proposal for your mom now, do i?"

"Only my mom not hers!"

"Of course!" You laughed, dissappearing in the frame.

-

"Hello Bridget" You whispered into her ear appearing behind her. Your lips musking her skin. she stopped breathing for a hot second, staring intensively at her notebook. A beautiful yours heart shaped necklace with lots of cards and sweets drawn on the page. Her slender manicured fingers held onto a pencil, touching up some lines. "That is amazingly jaw-dropping." You kept on whispering

"Thank you" She whispered out herself, turning her head to the side. Her lips almost touching yours in the process. Her big brown eyes dropping down to your lips, then back up to your own enchanting ones.

"You know if you want to kiss me, you just have to ask" You leaned closer, bumping your noses together, giving her your biggest grin possible.

"What if i do?" Her sudden confidence made you stumble a bit back, but her quick grip on your collar dragged you in closer "...want to kiss you" she breathed out into your lips. you felt every bone in your body snap.

"Then we might just have to do that" You looked down on her lips, almost closing the blank space between you two if it weren't for the sudden yank of your shirt from the back.

"Please don't do that here" Red grimaced, secretly smirking when she saw you on the ground.

"Party pooper!" You floated up placing yourself between two girls. "Ohh, such a sunshine!" You threw your arm around Ella, the girl too stiff to shrug it off.

"Whatever"

"Sooooo, Ella tell me how's it going with little prince Charming" You grinned against her cheek, she blushed hard at the mention of him

"Did he ask you to the castle coming yet?" Bridget asked excitedly, almost pushing you off the bench.

"He did, but I'm not going. i think i made my point clear-"

"Oh c'monnnn. At least he asked you" Bridget pouted "I wish someone would ask me" the girl dragged, looking down on her drawing, popping her head on her palm. Red looked at you, raising her eyebrows.

"Cupcake" with just a single word everyone was looking at you, not a bit of your confidence faltering away. With a wave of your hand a pink rose appeared, well developed with only a single thorn and two leafs. "Could I take you to castle coming?" you asked in all seriousness, presenting her the rose. Her eyes widened at your gesture.

"Well, there weren't any roses for me, surely," Ella grinned, wiggling her eyebrows at the other girls.

"So what do you say, princess?" She threw her arms around your neck, engulfing you in a tight hug.

"Hell yes! I'd love it, actually. " She smiled widely, giving you a kiss on the cheek. You felt the blood rushing in you. You loved the feeling of her lips on you, her touch. She was so soft, like a pillow. So delicate. It made you want more.

You never thought about the princess of hearts that way. Actuallyy you did, once or twice. But before that, she was always just there. Just someone you'd defend before Uliana and her crew. Someone who did cool card tricks and someone who was so easily prank-able. But you wouldn't dare. She was good-hearted, almost perfect. No one was that pure, and still, here she was, pure as the driven snow. A pretty girl there was no denying. You've never imagined what her touch would feel like if it lingered on you a bit more than a few seconds. Or if she's keeping any secrets, she had to, right?

-

"You know Bridget, you look absolutely gorgeous" You smiled, not sarcastically, a true genuine smile you haven't done for years. It made her blush for the millionth time this evening.

Your hands were resting on her small waist, hers on your shoulders, making her fingers intertwine on your neck. Slowly swaying your bodies together in the rythm of the music. Not your thing completely, but her presence changed it entirely. It was probably the last song of the night, leaving only a few couples in the ballroom. But you both had such great fun you wouldn't wish on heavens to go home right now. Just being here with her was the right place, and you felt it deep inside.

"Thank you" Was all she made out "Thank you for taking me here" She laid her head on your chest, placing you both even closer.

"No worries. I could do it a million times if it meant getting to spend time with you. My heart" you swayed both of you slowly, the song never ending.

"I loved tonight, I'm glad im here with you. I hope we'll be able to spend more time together" She looked up at you, her big brown eyes staring closely and longingly. Your heart is beating rapidly in your chest. You placed your hand in her hair, grabbing the back of her head.

"Of course we will. I'm making sure of that" Her eyes lit up, brightening the whole room for you. You were absolutely in awe, speechless. She had never looked better. The dim lights only making her singular features pop more. No one will ever look better than her.. At least you won't be looking at them. You've got your only one star, your moon. She was not yours, but she will be. "Can I kiss you?" The sudden question did not startle her in fact she did not mutter a word. A single nod with a smile was all that it took.

You will be her savior forevermore

[saltylemontears]

try again || ln4

summary: you and lando meet after many years with lots to talk about... warnings: none? i think? a/n: my first lando fic got over 650 notes (INSANE), so here's another, longer, as a thank you!

you weren't a big fan of racing. in fact, you had no clue what it was really about, until your brother brought you here.

the paddock is loud, way too loud for your liking, and you don't really understand. you see people wearing merch, carrying around signs and cutouts with big smiles on their faces, and it's actually kind of cute.

your brother gets into a passionate conversation about a championship with a fellow fan and decides to completely ignore your existence. how typical of him. your eyes wander to the big screen on your left.

names and pictures flash before your eyes, but none of them sound familiar. max verstappen, charlec leclerc, oscar piastri, lando norris.

lando norris.

lando norris?

lando norris, your highschool sweetheart? no, that can't be. surely, it's just a guy with the same name. and the same face. and the same fucking curls. just a coincidence.

your thoughts begin to wander, and suddenly you're in highschool again, anxiously waiting for lando in the park, on your bench. but lando's not in sight. not a single trace of him, he didn't even text you that he's busy like he usually does. you left the park two hours later, tears streaming down your face, betrayal stinging inside your chest.

and it starts stinging again. your first ever love, your first ever heartbreak.

you never thought you'd feel like this on a random sunday in miami, and it's overwhelming, it's all too much and you need to go.

your brother turns back to you. "hey, where are you going?"

it feels stupid to tell him about lando and whatever feelings you're feeling right now, so you just sit back down. "nothing, nothing,"

you manage to zone out for a while, only coming back to your senses when the lights go out, the race starts and your brother screams in excitement.

the crowd goes insane every time a car passes them, making the whole place even louder, and to be completely honest, it's actually kinda fun to watch those cars go ridiculously fast.

as the race comes to an end, the fans get louder, specifically the ones dressed in orange and your brother stands up, cheering passionately.

"and lando norris wins the miami grand prix, for the first time in formula on-"

jesus christ. you just witnessed your first love win a fucking formula one race with your own eyes.

you watch the screen, seeing lando on the podium, looking so happy and relieved, and all of a sudden, you see the same kid you loved those years ago and it's way too much to fucking handle. you get up again.

"i'm gonna go pee," you tell your brother, attempting to leave as quietly as possible, making your way through the crowd.

hell, you don't even know where the toilets are. you just need to get out of there real quick.

and you run, you run until you don't know where you are, but you're standing next to a bunch of guys in orange, breathing heavily.

you feel tears streaming down your cheeks and you hide your face, trying to find a bathroom. those orange guys definitely have a bathroom there, right?

and now, you're completely lost, messy and lando norris is in front of your eyes, chatting with someone. you need to get out.

you wait for a while until everyone turns around and run out of there as quickly as you can and-

something taps on your shoulder, and when you turn around, it's him. you're not sure whether you should cry or laugh.

your eyes meet and it's awkward as hell, just like back in highschool.

"didn't think i'd see you again," he says quietly after a minute of just staring. his voice is a little wobbly.

"i wish you didn't," you reply softly, turning back around to make your way back, but he stops you again. he stays quiet.

"congratulations," you say when he doesn't reply, and you mean it. no bad feelings, just like your mum always told you. "you did well,"

lando's hand on your shoulder tightens and he bites his lip, as if he was trying to find the right words.

"i'm sorry." he eventually whispers, voice breaking in the middle, and your heart fucking breaks at the sight, as angry as you are. "i-i'm gonna explain, alright? i'll tell you everything, please,"

you nod in agreement. today just can't get crazier.

he gently leads you somewhere, and you feel your survival instinct kick in, but it's lando. it's always been him.

he closes the door behind you when you sit on the couch in his driver's room. your hands shake.

"go on then," you begin, "explain,"

he takes a deep breath. "listen, i didn't really have a choice. i had to leave, you know? to move up the ladder, and i dropped out, because i wanted to chase this dream," he says, eyes wandering over your face. "and then - then it started being more than a dream, and i left everyone behind, not just you, and i'm so fucking sorry,"

you tense. "you could've at least texted me,"

"and what was i supposed to text you? that i'm leaving the country to become a racing driver and that i'm gonna be living in monaco and flying around the world and might never see you again?"

"anything. you don't even know how i felt after you ditched me," you reply, bitterness coating the sentence.

"i didn't want to ditch you,"

"but you did, lando, and it fucking hurt!" you raise your voice a little, but it's shaky and unstable. lando reaches for your hand.

"i'm sorry, i really am," he whispers, "i thought about you every day, how you're doing, because i loved you. i loved you so fucking much, i wanted you to just forget my dumb ass,"

"i didn't forget," you say, hand brushing against his. "i thought you didn't want me anymore,"

the room goes silent and you can hear each other's breathing.

"i still love you. i never really stopped," you blurt out, not even realizing what you've just said until he pulls you into a much needed hug, whispering a "me too," in your ear.

you pull away, looking into his eyes. he smiles, and it's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen.

"you think we could try again?"

[seasons-of-death]

bsf!rafe goes to reader's house

warnings: fluff, smut, mdni hi everyone!!! i took a few weeks off but i'm back and better (and hotter) than ever! anyway. kissesss! tbh MY therapist hates me. ur therapist hates me. im ur favorite therapist's favorite therapist.

rafe could hear his heartbeat in his ears as he pulled up in the driveway of your home, his jaw clenched as he half-heartedly parked it in front of your house; he hadn’t even thought of what he’d say to you, only thing he knew was that every part of him was screaming at him to go see you.

you could hear a car screech to a halt outside your home from the second floor, and even though you knew who it was, you made your way to the balcony of your room, seeing the blonde man making his way to your doorway in a determined stride.

the pounding of his fist against the wooden door could be heard all around the large home as you rushed down the stairs, your bare feet against the soft carpet, looking down to make sure you wouldn't trip, your mind too fuzzy to make sense of anything.

rafe stood outside your door, his clothes soaked by the rain, the blonde chewing on his lower lip as he looked at anywhere but the peephole, turning and walking away when it had been almost three minutes without anyone answering the door.

a part of you was confused why he didn't just open your door; both of you had the keys to the other's house, having secretly exchanged them when you were twelve and swore your friendship would last forever.

when he was almost at his car, you flung the door open, rushing to rafe, your bare feet prickled by the wet pavement, the boy turning to look down at you with wide eyes.

"why did you come here?" you ask, raindrops falling onto your face, making your vision blurred. rafe swallowed, looking at anywhere but you when he tried to find an answer to your question.

"you, uh, you hung up before i could say anything."

"yeah, but you could've pretended it never happened. why did you come here?"

he sighed, rubbing his jaw, his tongue poking out from in between his lips, "what do you want me to say? that i miss you?"

"well, do you?"

"jesus." he let out a noise that was between a scoff and a laugh, shaking his head. "of course."

"why? why do you miss me? after everything you put me through, what gives you the right to miss me?"

"i don't know!" he exclaimed, throwing his hands up, "i don't know why i miss you, when i know that you deserve something better. but for some reason, i can't stop thinking about you. i'm miserable without you. it's like you've ruined me. you make me not want any other person, because no one can be you."

"oh yeah?" you said, cocking your head, "what about sofia?"

"i broke up with her! you wanna know why i was with her? because i was afraid. i was afraid that if i told you what i felt for you, i'd lose you. but now, it doesn't even matter because i already lost you. it's so fucking infuriating, because you know me, i'm not the type of guy to say sappy shit and make some kind of romantic love confession, but for fuck's sake, i don't even like most of the people around me, let alone love, but you? for some fucking reason you're an exception."

he placed his hands on your rain-soaked cheeks, your hair sticking to your skin as you looked up at him, small drops forming at the corners of his eyes.

"for some reason my brain, my body, my stupid ass heart are all so fucking drawn to you, and it drives me so insane that i pretend to want to be with someone else just so you'd end up pushing me away and hating my guts even though you're the only person i can put up with. every part of me has belonged to you for so fucking long, but for some reason i could never accept it. but, fuck, i have nothing to lose anymore."

and without a warning, his lips were on yours, and even though you knew you deserved better, no part of you wanted to pull away from him, allowing him to lead you inside, into your very own bedroom, the two of you peeling off your rain-soaked clothing.

his lips might've just made a trail down your stomach, but the heat it caused was everywhere; your head, your collarbones, your tits, your stomach, your pussy, your thighs, your calves, your entire body on fire in a way that you hadn't experienced before, not even with him.

rafe's focus was on your tits, his mouth on your right nipple, first pressing small kisses, then small licks, until your nipple was in his mouth, all the while his left hand was on your left nipple, rolling it around between his fingers, occasionally squeezing it in a way that made you curl your toes.

and when you felt his cock at your entrance, you were prepared for him to fuck you like he often did; roughly, fast, without much care in the world; but he didn't, and even when he had been thrusting into you for so long you couldn't even remember how long it had lasted, he kept at his pace, he kept rolling his hips at the same pace, his right thumb rubbing your clit while he pressed kisses on your neck, softly murmuring the words you'd been craving to hear for so long.

"i love you."

and no matter how many times you came, he kept at it, at that same slow, yet incredibly intense, pace, until you could no longer process what was going on.

[heathermason6060]

Serial Killer!Daryl Dixon x f!Reader Smut: Teeth and Pearl earrings PT.2

Warnings: Serial killer Daryl, Daryl kills two men who tried to hurt you, rough smut, human hunting, hunting reader through woods, Daryl is mean cause killer (but soft after) soft dubcon but NO noncon

Summary: Part two to the killer!Daryl fic. Reader finds out about Daryl's favorite pastime, and he hunts her down after she runs off.

Notes: Sorry this took so long I didn't have my adhd meds and I couldn't focus on it for more than five minutes at a time. Again, I tried to keep him as in character as possible.

Daryl was surprised, and a little annoyed by the fact his obsession with you had only grown after that. He'd hoped that he'd just fuck you and get over it, get back to his usual self and only occasionally need to go out and hunt. But you only made it worse, he found himself needing to go out hunting multiple times a week.

No one was complaining about his frequent outings though, each time he'd always come back with fresh kills and that was more food in their stomachs. Carol did make a comment about the fact she was cooking deer for breakfast, lunch and dinner, but he just retorted with some playful insult, and she'd shoot him one right back. 

Your presence had become scarce after that night, and over time Daryl seriously grew worried. Even though you were currently the object of his obsession, he still viewed you as someone important to him, despite the way you made him go insane. 

What was once an occasional late-night dick jerking session became an every night type deal, sometimes twice a night. The way you had acted like nothing ever happened between the two of you made it so much worse. 

He'd expected you to get attached after that, constantly trying to get him to follow you off into the woods again, but you were just your old self, sweet and friendly but reserved. 

Daryl fucking hated that. 

His frustration started making him sloppy, and desperate. He picked up his old habit of stalking you, always out of sight but always right behind you. He knew you were unaware, he'd taken every single precaution to avoid giving you even the slightest suspicion you were being watched. 

There was one day he had followed you into the small town down the road. He'd stick one street over, behind buildings and in deep alleys, only keeping you in his sight long enough to see which turn you'd make. 

It turned out his annoyance at your stupidity was warranted. You'd run into trouble, two men who'd been scavenging an old department store and saw you walking by. They'd followed you, just as he did, bewildered by your obliviousness, just as he was. 

He knew they had the worst intentions. Rob you, kidnap, assault, or even all three, but thankfully he never had to find out. Because apparently, you were smarter than you looked, or just very fucking lucky, because you'd lost them between a group of small shops. 

He watched as they tried to find you, stumped at you seeming to vanish in thin air, and he began hunting them instead. 

They were more aware of their surroundings than you had been with Daryl. They could sense him, even though they hadn't seen or heard him, they knew he was there. They quickly switched from predator to prey as they felt his presence, constantly looking over their shoulders and making attempts at getting away through alleys. 

He could practically taste their fear. Their whale eyes flashed around the street, looking at every shop window, every door, every trash can, and in their disoriented fear driven state they ran right into him. 

Daryl moved quickly, his hands grabbing a fistful of greasy brown hair and slamming it against the brick wall next to him. As the man fell over the second whirled to face him, ending up falling right onto Daryl's knife, a shout bursting from his horrified mouth. 

Drawing the blade from his stomach he drove it into his throat, muting any further screams. He then used his elbow to slide the man off his knife.

He watched as the man fell into shock, his hands grasping his throat in a futile attempt to stop the bleeding. Daryl simply watched, his eyes never leaving his face, soaking in the sensation of his hunger being satiated.

Once his legs finally gave out and he fell to his knees, Daryl turned his attention to the first man, who was slowly regaining consciousness. 

He bent down into a squat and slapped the flat of his blade against the man's cheek, forcing him back to his senses. 

The confusion in his narrowed eyes turned to wide unbridled anger. His lips pulled away from his teeth and he tried to sit upright, only to get a heavy boot to his chest, sending him smacking against the concrete. 

He didn't say anything, which was unusual for Daryl. They'd usually start with threats, insults, rage as they denied accepting the weight of their situation. Then they'd start trying to bargain with him, offer him food, guns, weapons, sometimes cars. And when Daryl wouldn't give them any type of response, only unnerving eye contact, they'd start begging. 

This man hadn’t said a damn word. He kept trying to get up, he'd scoot back away a few feet before Daryl's boot kicked him in the chest and sent him flailing down on his back again. 

“What do you want?” He finally broke the silent struggle, submitting and remaining on the concrete. 

Daryl looked down at the man with that same expressionless look on his face. After a few seconds of this he reached for the pack of cigarettes in his front shirt pocket, making the man beneath him dramatically flinch. 

As he lit the cigarette the man sputtered, trying to speak but unable to find the words. Daryl shoved the pack back in his pocket and took a deep pull, watching as he gave another attempt at getting away. 

This time he got a kick to the face. 

The pain from that alone sent the man into fight or flight. After he scrambled to his feet Daryl decided he'd had enough, and after grabbing the back of his shirt he plunged the knife into his back, drew it out, and sunk it back in in a different spot. 

Over and over he did this.

He left the man rolling on his back on the ground, his once gray tank top soon turning a dark red. 

In the hopes of maybe holding his urges off for longer, Daryl gave a few more stabs to the chest before swiping his knife clean on the dying man's jeans. He slipped it back in his belt and wiped his face with the back of his hand, only making the blood smear worse.

Daryl left the men there and made his way back to Alexandria, taking a deep and satisfying pull from his cigarette before the sight of your red sweater caught his eye.

He stopped in his tracks when his brain processed the image of you, his hand holding his cigarette a few inches from his lips. He felt like someone just pointed a remote at him and pressed pause, the only movement being the smoke curling up and away from his face.

You looked about the same. 

You had a look of shock on your face, but not the type you'd expect someone to have after witnessing a murder like that. You'd seen your fair share of people being killed, you'd had to do it yourself a few times before, but that was always a kill or be killed scenario. 

Those two men weren't trying to kill Daryl. 

You'd caught sight of them in the reflection of a store window and knew they were sneaking up on you, so you'd darted behind an old coffee shop and climbed up the ladder. Once you were sure you'd lost them you climbed down, walked past two shops and around a corner just in time to see Daryl repeatedly kicking the man to the ground, behaving like more of a leopard playing with mice. 

You'd watched the entire thing stretch on for what felt like hours, your eyes following every plunge of the knife, stabbing everywhere but the one place that would instantly dispatch that man. 

Neither of you moved for a few moments. You only finally reacted when a chunk of ash fell from Daryl's cigarettes, watching it as it floated to the ground, looking back up to his face when it landed with a puff on the sidewalk. 

“What was that?”

The innocent tone of your voice felt like he was the one who got stabbed in the chest. 

Daryl always had a perfect way of killing. He'd play his role as some dumbass redneck who looked super easy to take advantage of, and they fell for it every time. They'd try to rob him or attack him and only then did he react, grappling them with movements he'd perfected to the point of it being an art. He'd always made sure that if there was the slightest chance of Rick, Carol, or anyone in his group somehow seeing, it could be read as necessary self defense. 

But there was no way to explain away what he'd just done right out in the open, in broad daylight. Part of him wished it was Rick who'd seen him, not you, 

Rick was no stranger to the deep satisfaction killing bad people brought. But you? He remembered once back at the prison you'd been torn up for days after having to kill someone who'd been attacking you. And that was a quick bullet to the head to a man who wanted you dead. 

Finally, he took the cigarette back to his lips and took a pull before speaking. “They were gonna do worse to you.” 

You knew he wasn't lying. But by the look on your face you didn't accept that, that wasn't the real reason why. 

You inhaled deeply through your nose and looked off into the distance somewhere, Daryl could see the wheels turning behind your furrowed brow. He tried to remember all the excuses he used to think of when he was in the shower, running down every worst case scenario. 

“How many times have you done that?” Your unspecified question had him unsure of how to respond. You blinked in frustration before elaborating. “Killed someone you didn't need to like that. All emotionless.” 

“Lost count.” The boldness of his answer made you scoff.  He stepped forward till he was inches away, maintaining steadily intense eye contact. “You gonna do somethin’ bout it?” 

You weren't expecting him to challenge you so blatantly like that. Your jaw dropped as if you were about to speak, go off on him or lose your shit, but suddenly, it just didn't matter anymore. Maybe it was your brain trying to gaslight you into just moving away from the tense situation, but you closed your mouth and nodded once before turning on your heel. 

Daryl prepared himself for some speech about morals in the apocalypse but you spoke before he had the chance.

“We should get back, Carol's making soup for dinner.”

That night you had successfully rationalized what you'd seen Daryl doing(gaslit yourself). Those men were evil, if they had the upper hand or maybe more numbers they would've done worse than what Daryl did. Even though it wasn't a quick death, it was nothing compared to what they would've done to you. 

In the back of your mind though, you knew that wasn't the main reason for what he did to them. He'd shifted into a completely different being then, it wasn't human, or animal. He had become almost soulless, his actions so mechanical it looked like a set of commands he'd been wired to do. The way every single move was so calculated, the way he knew what they'd do before they did it, down to the way he cleaned the blood from his knife on their clothes. 

Your blood ran cold when you remembered that first night in the woods with Abraham and the others. The way you felt his presence behind you even though you never heard or saw him. That must have been what those men felt, the primal instinct that they were being watched. 

You felt stupid for thinking he was following you that night because he had a thing for you. You really didn't want to believe he was capable of hurting you, but that was hard when you could vividly remember how tight he squeezed your neck and the way he looked into your eyes when he did it. 

If you didn't have a good reason to avoid him before, you sure as hell did now. 

But you really didn't want to. 

Every night you'd think about it again, the specific details becoming blurry as you imagined him doing it differently. Your heart would speed up when you'd imagine yourself in their place, walking through the woods and becoming aware that you were being watched, your fear only growing worse when you'd look around and wouldn't see anyone, but the feeling of him drawing closer persisting nonetheless-

Your stomach dropped when you realized your body had reacted differently to the idea of that then you had normally. Your heart rate was fast, like usual, but instead of anxiety spreading in your chest you felt a deep flipping sensation in your core. 

It had been a few days since you saw him. You knew he was always there, inciting a deep and unsettling paranoia in you. 

Rick invited the inner group over for dinner and drinks. 

You smiled as he handed you a glass of red wine, that same sly smirk he always had for you on his face. You were standing against the wall of his living room while the later arrivals finished their meal in the dining room. 

“You've been quiet.” Rick's voice had once been enough to soothe any anxiety that you might've had. But now it did little, akin to the background humming of indifferent frogs and crickets. 

His voice called your name and you forced yourself to look up to his face, nearly crying at the sight. You wished you could tell him everything, weep into his arms and have him shush away your worries, explain it all away and go back to the way things were. 

His expression grew serious then. “You okay?”

“Have you ever…” You glanced around to make sure there were no eyes on you. Everyone was minding their own business, chattering happily as they enjoyed Rick's spaghetti and wine. 

“Killed someone you didn't have to kill?” Your quiet voice had his posture stiffening. He shifted his feet as he nodded, mulling over your words before he spoke. 

“We've all done things we're ashamed of. If it's in the past, let it rot there. Nothin' you can do to change it.”

“Have you?”

It took him a while to answer. He inhaled deeply through his nose before leaning in closer to you, his tone darker. “Why are you asking me?”

“Someone here did that. Two men. They were bad men, but… they were trying to run away.”

“Then they did the right thing. Those men could've easily come back with more people.”

You sighed, shifting closer to him. By now you were only inches away from each other, and you could smell the cologne he'd put on before dinner. “He looked like he liked doing it. It wasn't… quick.”

Rick eyed you for a few silent moments. 

“Daryl.” It wasn't a question, he already knew the answer. You looked up to him, your eyes wide and worried now, but he settled you with a firm glare. 

“Sometimes a man does things that you don't need to worry about.” He spoke, his voice low and gravelly. “All you need to know is he protects you, and keeps your belly full. Alright?” 

You didn't know how to feel about learning that Rick knew. He didn't know the full extent, no one did, no one knew about the trophies and the hunting, or the meticulous planning that went into Daryl's killing. 

“Alright.” For some reason, it sets you at ease. If your leader said it was fine, then it had to be fine with you.

Rick's expression softened and he wrapped an arm around your shoulder to give you a comforting squeeze. You melted into his touch and closed your eyes, trying your best to ignore the burning on the side of your face from the hunter in the corner of the room.

 

The air was unusually cold.

You tried to steady your breathing as you walked through the familiar forest outside Alexandria. 

You couldn't feel him yet, but in your bones you could sense it, almost like he had a tracking tag on him that would make your heart race faster and faster as he drew closer. 

If you concentrated hard enough you could imagine him in real time, right about now he'd just be getting into the woods, picking up your tail-

The bolt of anxiety that went through your chest at the image had you picking up your pace, walking faster down the familiar path that eventually led to a river. 

It wasn't long before you felt it. You looked over your shoulder at the scene behind you. The forest floor, covered in dead leaves, the thin trees with gray bark that were randomly spaced out, and nothing else. Your eyes burned as you tried to see as far off into the distance as possible. Nothing. You couldn't even hear the normal wildlife, no birds, crickets, cicadas. 

You turned back around and pulled the sleeves of your black turtleneck down over your cold wrists. 

The feeling grew stronger as you walked on. The sun was setting, the normal bright yellow light fading into a gentler orange. 

It started with the hairs on the back of your neck prickling up. You'd turn around and see the same nothingness as before, only this time not being able to see as far due to the setting sun. 

The overwhelming urge to run overcame you and you looked over your shoulder again, your stomach falling ten stories when you saw nothing. That was worse than seeing him lurking behind. At least if you could see him, you'd know where he was. He could be anywhere. Your breath trembled and you resisted the screaming in your body to run, but the sound of a stick cracking had you breaking into a jog. 

He was close now, you could feel it. You didn't turn around anymore, you couldn't, if you once again were met with nothing you'd start losing your sanity. 

Soon it would be too dark to see. The idea of trying to hide from him in the pitch black forest had you running, and you didn't stop until it was too dark for you to do so without tripping. 

You caught your breath behind a large oak and waited. The silence was starting to get to you. Where the hell were all the birds? The cicadas that are always screaming this time of year? 

Where the hell were the walkers?

It was dark now. You looked ahead of you and felt like you'd fallen into a deep freezing cold lake, your vision had dramatically decreased to around five yards in front of you. It was getting dark so fast, the silence only seemed to be growing louder, you began to doubt yourself, you were way in over your head, what were you thinking? You were the only person alive who saw Daryl Dixon stab a man to death, a man that was actively trying to escape, just because of what he might have done, and YOU thought it was a good idea to play hide and seek in the woods with him? 

You waited too long. By the time you heard the distinct sound of featherlight footsteps it was too dark, you couldn't see anything. When you looked up you couldn't even see the moon or any stars, were the trees too thick? You didn't see any clouds that day, your head spun and you tripped over your feet the second you tried to step forward. 

Adrenaline surged through your body at the animalistic fear of being vulnerable around an unseen danger. You scrambled to your feet and froze, your eyes as wide as they could be in hopes of being able to see better. 

To your left you could barely see the backdrop of the dark blue sky behind the trees. You turned in a circle, and tried to look back to the sky, but in your turning you'd completely disoriented yourself. The way you'd come was just as lost as what was once your left. 

You felt a coldness run deep in your bones when you realized you had no idea which way Daryl was. 

If this was some innocent game of hide and seek you'd complain about the unfair advantage he had over you, most of his life he'd spent out in woods just like these. 

In a last ditch effort of self preservation you remained still, kept your eyes open and unblinking, and listened. 

Nothing. You couldn't hear a single fucking thing. If not for the sound of your own breathing you'd wonder if you'd gone deaf without even realizing it. You raised your hand in front of your face and blinked hard a few times, trying to will your eyes to become as good as Daryl's. 

Time ticked by no matter what you did. Without anything for you to hear or see it became harder to keep your balance, and your arms slowly lifted from your side to steady yourself. 

Your fingers brushed up against something warm and soft. You felt a brief tingle of confusion before all at once your heart leapt into your throat and your stomach dropped to your feet when you came to the horrifying realization of what you just touched.

Fingers. 

You snatched your hand away like you'd been stung, and with how fast you did it, you spun and fell to your knees. Your body couldn't react quick enough, you could hear leaves from what sounded like every direction, and you froze. 

Was that even Daryl?

You hadn't even seen him for sure, you had no proof whatsoever, not even a hint to go by, those could be walkers. For all you knew, Daryl could be back in Alexandria skinning a deer for dinner, clueless to your absence. 

You felt a different kind of fear as your mind dug yourself deeper and deeper. All you had on you was a comically small machete and a pathetic little flashlight. You'd imagined this going very differently, which was your own damn fault. You should've learned by now you couldn't predict anything about Daryl. He'd shown you that time and time again. 

You were too busy thinking about how stupid you were to notice the silence was back. But once you did, you forced yourself to your feet, and pushed on. Your arms reached out blindly in front of you as you took baby steps, trying not to gasp each time your fingertips grazed a tree. 

It took everything in you not to scream when you felt it again. A hand, but instead of reaching out to meet your outstretched hand, it ghosted up the small of your back. You whirled around and reached out, desperately trying to grab a sleeve, a finger, anything to pull yourself to, like the ladder in a swimming pool. 

Being met with empty black air almost brought you to tears. You lurched forward, trying to predict his position, but just as silently as he arrived he had sunk out of reach. 

You were ready to beg. You were wrong, you didn't want this, you were so fucking scared.

Just as you began to work up the courage to speak, your feet flew out from under you as you were shoved in the chest, hard. A dull pain shot through your ass and you kicked your feet in the dirt in front of you, pushing yourself away from his direction. But he was five steps ahead, his fingers grazing the top of your scalp. 

You yelped, spinning around to get up on your knees, not even managing to get one foot on the ground before you were shoved back in the dirt again. 

Something about that final push set you into fight or flight, so you got to your feet and ran. 

Daryl was right about your ridiculous luck. You made it pretty far before you ran into a tree, smacking into it with the edge of your shoulder so hard it spun you around again. Once again you had no idea which direction he was in so you got up, and tried again. 

Apparently he'd grown tired of toying with you. You'd managed to run about twelve feet when your only information of his location was the sound of heavy footsteps running after you. 

The realization he was fucking chasing you, full on running, terrified you so badly you found yourself unable to form thoughts anymore, your brain turned off as your body did everything possible to survive. 

You managed to surprise him. Instead of continuing straight you veered to the left, which would have been a very impressive feat had you not run into another tree. This one was huge, and thankfully you had slowed down enough that you didn't hurt yourself running into it, but it did scare the fuck out of you. 

You used your hands on the trunk to guide you, shimmying around the edge until you were pressed on the other side, your back flush against it.  You held your breath and waited, not daring to make a single sound. 

That feeling happened again. He was looking at you, but you didn't know where. Your eyes were utterly useless but you still looked frantically in every direction, only being met with utter blackness. 

There was nothing you could do. A small part of you felt relieved, at least you didn't have to try so hard anymore. Slowly, you let out your lungful of air, trying to be quiet. But it wasn't getting out fast enough and your lips opened against your will, causing you to shudder out a terrified breath. 

He had been two feet in front of you for a while now. His eyes, although not superhuman, had over time adjusted enough to find his way through dark woods like these. He could see the outline of nearby trees, and the figure of your body pressed up against one. 

The silence had quickly become something the two of you were extremely used to. So when there was a sudden shift in the air followed by wind shifting the leaves of trees above you, it startled you both. 

The sound of leaves moving right in front of you sets you off again. You prepare to make a break to the left, but unbeknownst to you, Daryl could see the way you angled your body, your right leg braced behind you. 

He smirked and threw out his foot right as you bolted forward. Your legs flew out from under you and you landed hard on your stomach, the air being knocked from your lungs. 

Daryl watched as you tried unsuccessfully to breathe again, your lungs spasming before finally snapping back to normal. You greedily gulped in air and weakly attempted to roll over on your side. 

He crouched next to you and reached out, using the back of his knuckle to brush hair from your forehead. You jerked violently, your hands flying up to try and fight him away. That made him chuckle, and you felt a whole new rage of emotions after having his identity confirmed. 

It really was Daryl. If that was a good thing or a bad thing you weren't sure of yet, but at least you knew for sure it was him. 

“What'd you think was gonna happen, huh?” He muttered, his hand grabbing your wrist and yanking it from your face. “Go off in the woods alone again, start runnin’ in the dark, ain't nobody tell you runnin’ just makes things wanna chase you?”

The more he spoke the more aggressive he became, his other hand latching onto your other wrist to hold you firmly in place. It didn't stop you from struggling, which only made his prey drive even more active. 

“What are you gonna do?” Your voice and the way it trembled made his upper lip twitch. He stared down at your face, another sick grin forming when he saw you grow more and more terrified the longer the silence stretched on. 

“Daryl, please.” 

The grin fell from his face then, something about the way you sounded like you were about to cry setting his teeth on edge. He let go of your wrists and ran the back of his knuckles down the side of your face, his touch tender. He saw you relax a little at that and he leaned down, brushing his lips so lightly against yours you could've mistaken it for the wind.

"You okay?"

"Yeah." You breathed and nodded softly; the fear of dying being replaced by a delicious different kind of terror. This could easily become an addiction.

His gentle actions slowly hardened as his fingertips trailed down from your cheek to your jaw, the pressure increasing until he reached your throat, where his hand slipped into that perfect fit around your neck. 

“I think you need a little wakeup call princess, you don't get to tease me like this and change your mind cause you get scared.” He said the last word like an insult, as if it was a ridiculous fuck up on your end. 

“Shit don't work like that anymore.” His tone took this edge of meanness, something that made your lower stomach flip. 

Your chest fluttered with your shaky breathing, and you nodded, filling him with a deep satisfaction. He squeezed his hand around your neck with no warning, no slow increase in pressure, just an immediate white knuckled squeeze. 

Right as you saw little flashes of white at the edges of your vision he relaxed his hand, but he kept it there like some kind of warning. 

He released his hand and replaced it with something cold, your mouth dried instantly when you realized it was his knife. 

“Get up.” 

You slowly stood with him, making sure to let him guide where your head went, not wanting to risk getting nicked. 

Then it was like he disappeared. 

You waited a few moments, your eyes flickering around the different shades of black. 

A bright orange glow had your pupils dilating painfully. After being in pitch black darkness for so long the small flame from his lighter felt like staring into the sun. 

He looked terrifying then. His cigarette between his lips and his cheeks dipped in as he pulled in to help the tobacco light. His eyes flicked up to you for less than a second before he snapped the lighter closed and you were left with an orange dot where his face once was. 

You stood in the same spot, not daring to breathe, your eyes locked on the orange dot as it moved from his lips to down at his side. You weren't sure what he was expecting of you, so you remained standing as long as he felt like torturing you. 

A minute later the orange orb vanished with a hiss as he put it out on his boot. You heard the light tap of it falling in the dirt, where he proceeded to grind it with his shoe. You deeply missed that orange dot, it gave you something to focus on in the black void. 

His hands were rough as he grabbed your shoulders and turned you around. You gasped at the sudden roughness, your heart jumping after standing in silent nothingness for so long. The knife was back on your throat, his other hand slipping up under your turtleneck. 

“What you saw the other day,” His breath was hot against the shell of your ear as his hand groped and squeezed your sides, growing more firm as he slid it up to your breasts. “Can't have anyone knowin’ ‘bout it.” 

Your first instinct was to nod, but the blade against the side of your throat made you think twice. “Mhm. I know.” You hummed out your anxious promise, your hands clinging onto his forearm for dear life. 

“I don't think you do.” His voice was calm and steady, the opposite of the angry way he pinched your nipple. Your whine caught in your throat and you clenched your teeth, baring them in a pained grimace, much like a submissive animal.

“You're a stupid bitch,” Those words held so much fiery emotion despite how cool and collected he sounded. You swallowed a whimper as he went on, “but you ain't dumb enough to go and open your mouth.” 

He didn't appreciate your lack of response, you'd been frozen from the way his hand had dipped under the waistband of your jeans, fingers barely grazing your panties. 

“Makin’ me think I might be wrong.” He growled and pressed the knife firmer against your neck, and you immediately snapped out of it.

“You're not. I won't, I promise.” Your ass moved against the hard dick beneath his jeans, making him hiss out a curse. 

In this game the two of you played, he had a level of excitement and vigor that was previously unknown to him. He rested his forehead on the back of your head and inhaled deeply, holding the flowery scent of your shampoo in his lungs like it’d get him high.

He loved the way you played this role so perfectly. Growing up watching slasher movies through puberty wasn't the sole reason for his degeneracy, but it played a large role. Drifting around selling drugs with Merle to unsavory people added to it too. 

Daryl finally dipped his fingers under your panties, taking his sweet time rubbing circles in the skin all the way down to your slit. When he felt how wet you were he sucked in a gasp before he could stop himself. You'd been working that up for a while. By the way your panties were soaked, he'd guess you got all worked up the second you slipped out of Alexandria.

Your grip on his forearm tightened as he stroked your clit, swirling his finger around a few times before dipping down through your folds. 

Without meaning to you held your breath in anticipation, begging to any higher power to have him go easy on you. You couldn't take another night like before, especially not in the middle of the woods. You strongly believed that when he finished with you and saw the state you were in, he'd just leave you to find your own way back when you stopped being a pathetic mess. 

Your prayers were answered and he angled his hand in a way that allowed him to push his middle finger inside you, your walls greedily squeezing around him. Now that you were pretty sure he wouldn't actually kill you, you allowed yourself to enjoy every drop of pleasure he'd give you. 

You moaned shamelessly when he shocked you by not just driving it in and out, but he fucking curled his finger.

“You bring any walkers over here and I'll leave your ass in the dark.” His tone held a venomous bite, but you were fairly certain he wouldn't actually do that. You weren't taking any chances though so you pressed your lips tightly together and tried to steady your breathing through your nose.

His head bumped gently against yours as he moved his attention to the top of your ear, his lips warm against the cold skin there. You nearly crumpled in his arms at the feeling, and when his tongue traced the tip of your ear you physically shuddered against his chest. He trailed a few kisses from your ear to the back of your neck, giving into his impulsives and sinking his teeth into the meat of your shoulder. 

It took every ounce of concentration to remain quiet. He couldn't tease you like this, do every little trick in the foreplay handbook, and expect you to keep quiet? 

His finger curled again the second time, sending a jolt through your core and down your legs. When he felt your nails dig into his forearm he nudged your head again with his, tilting you so he could press his cheek against yours. 

If not for his hand down the front of your jeans and the knife he had on your neck, you would've passed for a sappy couple posing for pictures. 

Just as you'd relaxed against his chest, your head tilting back to rest against his collarbone, he started curling his finger at a consistent pace. You whined deep in your throat, your eyes squeezing shut against the frustration of pleasure, but not enough. 

His hand pulled out from your jeans so suddenly you actually made a genuine whiney noise, already frustrated and impatient. The knife returned to its former deep pressure, immediately setting you straight. 

He popped open the buttons on your pants and pulled down one side, bending his knees to pull them down over your ass, making you awkwardly twist and bend with him. 

Your body reacted subliminally to the sound of his buckle clinking as he unbuckled his belt, your back arching to press yourself closer against him. His breathing had ever so slightly gotten heavier while he worked to take his dick out, his mouth sending hot puffs of air against your ear. Your pussy throbbed at the feeling, and even more so when you felt his swollen tip bob between your legs after he freed it from his pants. 

You were lucky Daryl wasn't in the mood to take longer than necessary to fuck you. It was a bit selfish on his part, he no longer cared about your pleasure, instead choosing to solely make himself cum with your pussy. Made no difference to him if you came or not. The wind carried the faint smell of rain and he could hear the beginning rumble of thunder in the distance. 

He spit on his fingertips and slathered it over his tip, tugging on his dick a few times before guiding himself to your hole. Just as greedy as before, he pushed inside you, slapping his hand over your mouth to muffle your whines of discomfort.

Daryl's downstairs department was nothing to make light of, he was blessed with a heavy dick that was the perfect length to fill you completely so not a single millimeter of space was untouched. 

But Christ, the girth, he didn't have the type of dick he could just slide in you without giving you a stretch that burned. Unfortunately for you, he didn't really care that much, it went away after a minute and didn't feel like a big deal to him. 

You groaned into his palm, your eyes rolling back into your head when he immediately set a rough pace. The angle he fucked you in, standing upright with your ass stuck out for him, it had his tip slamming into that perfect spot every single thrust. 

The knife suddenly fell from his fingers, landing on your boot with a thump, but before you could react his hand quickly replaced it. His left arm wrapped around your waist, using it to keep your hips angled in towards him. With his right hand he squeezed your neck, gradually increasing pressure until he felt your hands on his arm start to loosen their grip. 

He released the pressure, the oxygen and blood returning to your brain to give you an amazing head rush. He waited until he felt your nails dig back into his skin before squeezing again, repeatedly bringing you to the brink of unconsciousness before letting you come crashing back down to earth. 

With the arm he had around your waist he moved his fingers over your lower stomach, feeling around for a moment before pressing the flat of his hand down right where he felt his dick. 

You sucked in a sharp gasp at the feeling, wondering where the hell he learned that, you knew he hadn't fucked anyone ever since you'd known him. And with the way he was when you first met him in Atlanta, you seriously doubt he was experienced enough to know how to do something like that. 

Daryl was a lot more simple than you were trying to figure out, he just liked the way he could feel his dick moving if he pressed down hard enough and fucked you deep enough.  The fact it felt amazing was just a lucky side effect for you. 

The next time he started choking you he squeezed a little tighter, the feeling of your throat shifting under his palm had him growling curses into the crook of your neck. Your back arched harder, your body desperate to feel him deeper. Him fucking you fast and hard, coupled with the way his grip on your neck kept cutting off blood to your head, suddenly became way too much and you came around his dick, your walls squeezing and holding onto his length with all its might. 

Daryl felt his eyes roll back in his head and his dick twitch at the feeling. “That's it girl.” He muttered out encouragement, knowing he needed you to hold out a few more minutes. If you got all whiney and weak like last time he'd have to stuff his shirt in your mouth. He was already lucky enough that somehow there were no walkers nearby, he couldn't take the chance to try and push his luck. 

His encouragement worked, your body melting against him as you soaked in the rare praise. 

“Yeah, that's it. Atta girl.” His voice was so low and deep you could feel it vibrate in his chest against the top of your back, sending little sparks of pleasure through your core. 

He picked up the pace, his hand falling from your neck to grab both sides of your hips. Carefully, and slowly, he guided you down to your knees, keeping his dick inside you as you both knelt in the dirt. He put his hands on your upper back and pushed, forcing your arms out from under you so the side of your face was on the ground. 

The feeling of his large rough hands pushing your back down had your stomach tightening again, and it only got worse when he shifted your ass higher up against his pelvis. He was back to his earlier pace in no time, thrusting hard and fast, one hand still pushing down on your back while the other did the same to the side of your head. 

It got harder to keep quiet the longer he went on. When he suddenly grabbed your ass and held it tight against him, forcing his dick in deeper, you came unexpectedly, breathing so hard it sent the dirt next to your face poofing away. You clenched down on him again, your back arching obscenely, and rode the dizzy waves of your orgasm, quickly forcing him to have one of his own. 

Daryl spit out a growl and slammed into you a few last times before he came, his grip on your hips keeping you immobile as he emptied himself inside you. Even after you twitched from the last bit of your orgasm and started moving to get up, he grabbed hold of your hair and smashed your head back down. Maybe it was a power move, because he held you down like that for a while, his dick buried so deep inside you his cum wasn't able to trickle out yet. 

You waited what felt like five minutes before you spoke up, your voice hoarse from all the heavy mouth breathing. “Daryl?”

He barely let you finish the L in his name before he cut you off. “Shut the hell up.” He muttered, his heavy hand still pressed against your face and the other holding your hips tightly against his. 

He would've been content to stay like that for a while, just to torture you some more, maybe keep you there under him until his dick got hard again. But the rumble of thunder was getting closer, and he didn't feel like getting caught out in a storm. 

When he finally released his grip on your hair and waist you sighed in relief, lifting your face from the ground to brush the dirt from your cheek. He pulled his softened dick from you and groaned when he felt the cool air on his sensitive skin. 

You were dreading getting up and the walk home when you heard the familiar hissing and groaning of a nearby walker. You pulled up your pants as slowly and quietly as humanly possible, your eyes still trying with all their might to see in the dark forest. 

Daryl clicked on a flashlight for a split second, just long enough to catch the location of the walker.

In a bright white flash you saw three of them about ten yards out. Your moaning must've attracted them, and your stomach twisted when you remembered Daryl threatening to leave you there if you drew any walkers over. 

A large warm hand slipped into yours and he helped you to your feet. It was so kind that you were almost more concerned with the action than the fact you were in pitch black darkness with three walkers heading your way. 

He slung his crossbow over from his back and clicked the flashlight on again, only for a split second. They weren't much closer. He took them out, clicked the light again, and saw a handful more far, far back. You could definitely outwalk them. You sighed in relief and wiped the dirt from your palms and face. 

“Can you walk?” He whispered as he slung his weapon back over his shoulder, slipping his flashlight in his front jean pocket. 

“Yeah, I'm fine.” You whispered in return and took his hand again, trying not to let silly childish emotions start clouding your mind. You weren't some teen girl with her first real boyfriend, you were a woman holding the hand of a cold man who killed for pleasure, a man that just hunted you through the woods like you were some fox or cougar. And he was freakishly good at it. 

He led you back to Alexandria in a way that harshly contrasted his normal exterior. His hand was gentle but firm and he didn't rush you, not once. Even when you snuck back through the back wall he stayed with you, albeit letting go of your hand. He took you to your house, made sure you got in safe, and did something at the door that had your heart pounding even more than when he chased you. 

Daryl looked at you for a moment, uncertainty clear on his face. You could tell he was thinking of hundreds of different things at once, and it kind of looked like he was nervous. 

He leaned in and placed his open hand at the base of your neck. Not squeezing, not grabbing or clenching, he just barely cupped your skin, his thumb tracing against the red and purple marks from his hands and teeth. You'd covered the last ones up with makeup, you could do the same with these. 

You opened your mouth to reassure him of this but he leaned in, and kissed your forehead. 

Then he pressed his forehead against yours. Your heart was racing painfully at this point. You watched as he looked into your eyes for a second before he closed them. You followed suit and closed your eyes, savoring the intense affection. It was so strange to you. You couldn't remember the last man or woman you'd been like this with. And the fact it was Daryl Dixon pressing his forehead against yours, right in the doorframe of your front door…

You decided then you didn't give a shit what he did for fun. You didn't give a shit if he felt the same way either. Maybe you could delude yourself into thinking that one day. You decided right then you'd walk through hell and back to get just a taste of this feeling again. 

The feeling of his hand unfolding yours had you opening your weary eyes. You looked down and blinked, seeing a small white dot in the palm of your hand. He drew away from you then, muttering a quick ‘found this earlier’ before fading down the stairs and up the street to his house. 

You rubbed your finger over your pearl earring and smiled. 

@ophelialaufey @carlgrimesgfofficial

[wannaeatramyeon]

Ryuhei Kuroda x Reader: Five Stages of Grief Attraction

G/N. 1.8k. Fluff. Masterlists

The moment you realised you were attracted to Ryuhei, you had to muster all your willpower not to fall to your knees and curse the heavens.

It wasn't your willpower that prevailed. It was the fact you were in a busy store food shopping, and would have likely been manhandled and thrown out by security.

Common sense and public courtesy meant you didn't cause a scene and scream. Instead you went home and sat with your head in your hands for the rest of the day.

There is no way. Absolutely no way you could fall for him.

He's pathetic, he's a pest, he, for some godforsaken reason, has redirected all his previous efforts from Mitsuki to you.

Attaching himself to you when he's not wanted. Constantly by your side. Clingy and annoying and endlessly rambling about this and that. You usually ignore him, but sometimes you hear him talking about going on a date and when you don't respond, he pouts and it earns you a few moments of precious peace. 

Yet despite him being a goofball with you, Ryuhei is an oddly intimidating presence for everyone else and handy for warding away dangers. It's useful, in a way. Having him around.

And maybe he's worn you down, gotten you used to him, because you also find his company, dare you say... comforting-

No. Absolutely not.

Cutting that thought off sharply, you vigorously shake your head and physically slap yourself.

Honestly, what is wrong with you? Ryuhei is not comforting. He is the reason why restraining orders exist.

.

.

Though you can't help but notice the next day that when Ryuhei walks with you, he's always the one positioned next to the road and traffic. 

Or how his body is constantly slightly turned in towards you, shielding you from the crowds and jostling as if it's second nature.

He does it so smoothly and subtly, which is insane to think that Ryuhei can be smooth or subtle, that the only reason you notice is your nerves are on a knife's edge around him these days and you're torn between watching him like a hawk or never looking in his direction at all.

There also seems to be a ton of inside jokes between you two. How did that even happen? 

At one point in time he was just stupid, annoying Ryuhei Kuroda. Now he's still stupid, annoying Ryuhei Kuroda but he can say something innocuous and nonsensical and it will mean something hilarious to the both of you and you'd guffaw together.

Crap.

Not to mention the day after, when the stars aligned to fuck you over even more and you see an old frenemy that your non-confrontational ass still greets as politeness wins out. 

Who makes you uncomfortable and likes to leave a trail of backhanded comments.

Who you must have mentioned before to Ryuhei because suddenly he feels bigger and taller and much more menacing and the other person leaves after a simple "Hi, how you doing?".

You convince yourself it's all just a coincidence.

It's sweet, nonetheless.

You reward him with a few more smiles and he preens.

Shit. This is the opposite of what you want.

.

.

You reason with yourself that the feelings are not mutual.

Or rather, there are no feelings on your side.

That you merely feel flattered at all the attention, his compliments and sweet talk. Even if it's less sweet, and more obscene and disgusting.

(Disgusting. In a curious way. That makes you wonder what he would actually be like in bed. 

What would Ryuhei actually do if you took him up on his proposition to do you.)

Ugh. Your train of thought is becoming, frankly, deranged.

A surge of irritation courses through you.

How could he do this to me? Fuck that guy, you think to yourself angrily. But this time you also mean fuck that guy and ugh why isn't he doing me and it makes you want to pull your hair out.

.

.

You hold on to your sour mood all weekend.

Flip flopping between rueing the day you met Ryuhei to wondering if he'd ride you as well as he rides that stupidly cool motorbike of his.

You hate yourself for even thinking that, almost as much as you hate him.

Until you see him again Monday morning, and the way his eyes light up makes you blush furiously.

You want to equally strangle him and kiss him senseless.

.

.

Really, is Ryuhei that bad? 

Sure he has no sense of personal boundaries, or decorum, and he runs his mouth with the most unhinged things.

But he's good, at least to you.

Sort of.

(It took you a while to come to that conclusion. You had to double, triple check whether your standards are actually still ok or if he really has worn you down.

That beneath all his bravado, Ryuhei is actually pretty nice. Thoughtful. He looks out for you in ways you don't expect. And he is nothing if not loyal.

There's also bonus points for simply how much he makes you laugh.)

So maybe you can like him back a little, as a treat. A guilty pleasure.

Perhaps it isn't so bad that you allow yourself to drift closer to him. That your shoulder nudges his when you walk together.

How you find any excuse to lightly touch him on the arm under the guise of getting his attention.

You no longer tell him to shut the fuck up when he asks if you want to bang. That sometimes you just raise your eyebrows and give a smirk at his pick up lines, and you relish how his look of shock turns into glee at your response.

When he asks if you want to go for a coffee, you shrug and say sure and let him lead the way as he keeps giving you furtive glances as though you may change your mind and disappear any second. And when you still remain, following him obediently to the cafe, his glances turn hopeful and you allow yourself to melt at how cute he is.

Damnit.

However, the real killer that shifts you from liking him as a treat to full blown liking him is when he offers to take you for a ride.

Your throat immediately dries at the question, and lewd images flashes before your eyes. Unfortunately (or, depending on how you want to look at it - fortunately, before you manage to embarrass yourself) you notice the bike helmets in each hand and squash down your disappointment and presumptuousness. 

Except holding on to Ryuhei as he navigates the night traffic of Seoul, your arms circling his waist, his hand resting on your thighs at every stoplight does something absolutely stupid to your heart.

You're pretty certain he's not even touching you to cop a feel and that he's touching you purely because he can't not. It's so casually, heart wrenchingly intimate that you wonder how on earth you got here with Ryuhei but also please can this never end.

Maybe having sex with him would have been the lesser evil and helped you to get over this crush, rather than doing this and deepening it.

Your brain also shorts when you arrive at your destination and it turns out that romantic bastard has taken you stargazing.

He's uncharacteristically quiet and when your eyes meet his, he looks at you like you're far more interesting than the inky sky littered with the moon and dazzling stars.

With galaxies.

With the goddamn universe.

Fuck.

.

.

Fuck.

Ok. Maybe you shouldn't have given yourself this because your stupid damn heart has betrayed you.

Give it an inch and it took a whole fucking mile.

Depression sets in and you barely get out of bed when you realise you don't just like him, you think you might be falling for him.

Ryuhei.

Ryuhei Kuroda, of all people.

You used to think he was a joke. A creep, if you're being honest. What was that you thought about restraining orders?

Now look at you.

Besotted with him. Checking your phone to see if he has texted. Smiling at the stupid memes and selfies he sent you.

You kick your feet with force and scream into your pillow.

Then pause briefly as you remember the funniest thing he said to you the other day. How he leaned in to whisper into your ear and his breath tickled your skin-

And you start screaming again.

But, you think, this isn't what depression feels like. You go through periods of gloom but mostly you feel like you're floating on clouds.

Your cheeks hurt from grinning so much, like a lovestruck idiot.

You actually feel like dancing and jumping around.

Because so what if Ryuhei is pathetic. Pitiful. Rumours swirling around him and his previous terrible taste with Mitsuki.

(Though you like the person that liked Mitsuki. What does that say about you? It's a terrible game of Six Degrees of Separation.)

And perhaps, worst of all, blonde-

None of it matters.

He's good to you and he makes you happy.

.

.

Ryuhei avoids your eye. 

Fiddling with his tie, his coat, running his fingers through his hair, twiddling his thumbs. Eventually he shoves them in his pocket. For a brief moment. Before he pulls them back out to lace his fingers together, then back apart then back together-

You grab his hands in yours, find them clammy and tell him, "Enough. What?"

His face snaps to yours, as if he didn't realise what he was doing.

A nervous smile spreads. His eyes drop as he mutters under his breath and you catch some vague Japanese.

"Ryuhei?"

He clears his throat, and looks at you again. You don't think you've ever seen him this nervous before.

"Can I kiss you?"

Oh.

Oh.

The innocence of the question completely catches you off guard.

It's definitely not the most risqué question he has asked you, and you note absentmindedly that the frequency of him asking you to sleep with him has declined since you've been... Whatever this is.

However, there has never been such build-up, or frankly shyness to anything he has asked you before.

You're strangely touched.

.

.

Ryuhei's eyes keep darting to your face. 

He can't hold your gaze in case he has somehow massively read this wrong and is rejected (Am I really as delusional as Kenta says I am, he thinks), though he is desperate to know your answer.

You're not at all the first person he has kissed but this feels like the biggest deal. The most important. The only person he has expressed more than a passing attraction to and has also dated, if you can call this dating.

He's desperate to kiss you. Has been desperate for a while, actually. It's not how he is used to operating but he thinks you deserve a gentleman and he's trying his best to act like one and learn somewhat from his past mistakes.

"Of course."

Huh?

Your words cut through Ryuhei's rambling subconscious.

His anxiousness and furrowed brows start to disappear when your consent sinks in. A small grin, toothy and lopsided, and one you find utterly charming, takes over.

Removing his hands from your grasp, his arms snake around your waist and you're pulled close without effort.

"Really?" Ryuhei asks. 

"Really."

"I can kiss you?"

"You can kiss me."

He doesn't hesitate.

Ryuhei leans down and kisses your forehead first. Chaste and nothing more than a peck. Moves further down and brushes his lips against your nose. Then your right cheek, followed by the left. 

Finally-

The last thing you see, before your breath hitches when you feel his smile against your own and your eyes flutter shut, is the way Ryuhei looks at you-

Gleeful, as always, and with total and complete adoration.

[holybibly]

i’m literally so obsessed with your work 😭

could you possibly do some sort of shiburi/toy play with san?

i would literally die if you did 😩

Bunnies, I haven't been as active lately as I'd like to be, but today I'm here and Unholy Hours are back on the air.

Hmm, I haven't tried shibari yet, but San is too attractive for me to give up the idea.

"Tied up like that, you look so divine. I can't take my eyes off you, my angel; the way the ropes leave marks on your delicate skin is driving me insane." San practically purrs into your neck before he pulls away from you. No matter how tempting you look at the moment, he is going to have to be patient. He has the whole of the night in front of him, and you are completely in his power.

The soft rope whispers and snakes across your bare skin, hot as sin, each intricate loop pressing tightly against your body, leaving exquisite marks. Through the soft lace of your blindfold, you couldn't see the pattern that San was creating today, but you could imagine each intricate knot being wrapped around your body, all of them evenly spaced and perfectly tied.

In San's eyes, you were nothing less than a work of art.

San left your hands free, but you didn't dare move them. You knew that if you started to squirm or tried to rub your throbbing clit, the slow glide of the rope over your skin would stop immediately. San didn't like it when his princess was disobedient, especially when he was making her beautiful for himself. Of all the dolls he so desperately wanted to play with, you were the most beautiful.

You could feel the rope sliding down just below your chest and then tightening around your rib cage. The slight tension of the rope around you makes your breathing harder and more labored, and heat begins to build in your lower abdomen as you feel the rope digging into your skin. It starts to get wet between the folds of your pussy and you know that soon you are going to start dripping.

The tension of the ropes is perfect; there is nothing to put you in any danger. San always knew how to treat you properly.

"Black is your color, my angel." San purred again, but this time his voice was a little more husky and sultry, like that of a big, contented cat. "But you already had that knowledge, didn't you?"

"Yes, I know that, Daddy."

"This is my angel, all mine." He circles around you like a predator on the prowl.

You smile shyly at his praise as he gently runs his fingers over your round, flushed cheek and then leans down to give you a kiss. You lift your face to meet San's soft lips halfway.

You can hardly remember how it all started. You just woke up one day with the thought that you had to have him, even if you had to hide all the delicious marks on your body that San kindly left on your skin after each 'game'. It's so stupid, such a terrible cliché, like in the most naive of romantic films: a rich, gloomy boy and an innocent nerd who was supposed to be his tutor, but instead San ended up being the one who taught you.

And if San wanted to get you tied up and exposed in the most vulgar of ways tonight, you'd obey whatever he wanted. He would be able to throw you down on the floor and fuck you into the parquet, and you would be grateful to him for it.

San pulls away from your lips, leaving you wanting more, and you lean forward as if in pursuit of his love. He just chuckles at you and holds your cheeks as he straightens up. His feline eyes are soft, but they hide a dark desire.

"You're so in need of me, angel." He coos in a loving way. "Do you want my lips, my fingers, or my cock so badly, little princess?" San muses and uses his thumb to smear some saliva over your plump lower lip. He lifts your head up again, and you give him a kiss on the thumb.

"I'll take anything you give me, Daddy." You whimper softly.

"Such a good girl." San senses how much you need to be touched, worshipped, and played with, and he is more than happy to satisfy your needs.

His warm hands begin to slide down the length of your body. San runs his fingers along the textured rope, just feeling and enjoying the sensations, gently rubbing against your skin under the tight tangle of ropes, leaving ghostly warm marks where they touch your skin.

Your skin tingles where the hot texture snakes into a pattern, and you feel another loop begin to slide across your body. You still can't make out what kind of pattern San is tying around you, but you can tell he's creating something like a corset. Each loop of rope lies directly under the previous one, with the knots neatly tied in the center of your torso. Each knot is more intricate than the one before it, and it probably frames your body in the most beautiful way possible.

There will be a brief tug on the rope before the pressure is released and the next knot is tied around you.

San's hot breath kisses the skin of your bare shoulder, and you moan softly, rubbing your thighs lightly against each other in the hope that it will ease your excitement.

"You are so beautiful, my angel." He whispers in your ear in a low voice. "I love seeing you like this—all bound up and just for me. You were made for this—to be adorned and decorated by my hands. You are my very own little masterpiece, Princess."

The praise licks over your body like fire and pools in a liquid, viscous warmth between your thighs. You have the feeling you're even wetter, if that's even possible. Your breathing is getting harder; the thought of how beautiful you look to San turns you on, and perhaps it might not last as long as you'd like, but right now you're perfect for him, and that's all that matters. These thoughts cause you to rub your thighs against each other again, desperate for any kind of friction that might help you ease the aching excitement in your cunt.

San digs his hands into the soft flesh of your thighs and spreads them apart with a growl. He doesn't want you to cum too soon; you've just started playing. His strong, slightly rough hands slide over your thick thighs and then brush lightly against the wet, slippery folds of your pussy, allowing you to enjoy some pressure where you need it so much, your hips rocking as you ride his palm. Excitement drips from your hole like a waterfall and spreads over San's palm.

You whine pitifully as his hand leaves you and San goes back to tying knots on your body, and you stay like that—horny to the max and in need of some relief.

"Shhh, angel, it's okay. You are a good little princess, and Daddy will give you anything you want. Now sit still and let me make you beautiful. Let me make you so perfect for me, my angel."

You obediently freeze in place, the world around you blurring as you melt under his praise. San's voice is so deep and calm, but you hear those hot, dark notes in it that tell you he is just as horny as you are. In his arms, you always feel like sex personified, as San does whatever he wants to your body, molding it to suit his own desires and kinks.

You feel the last loop around your waist before the remaining rope runs down your soft belly, the slightly rough texture rubbing nicely against your skin. The tightness of the rope prevents you from thinking; all thoughts fade as you let the fuzzy sensation in your stomach from being bound spread through your mind. Your fall into subspace is slow and gradual, and your breathing is deepening as if you were on the verge of sleep. San is skilled at luring you deeper and deeper into a web of lust and depravity.

San's hot hands squeeze your thigh, lightly scratching it with his nails before he wraps the rope around it. It's so hard for you to maintain any kind of coherence, so far down, especially when you hear the quiet whisper of a hoarse, purring voice: "my beautiful angel" and "sugar bunny" on your thighs, along with wet kisses and long, slow licks, which literally make your pussy literally dripping with arousal.

San pulls another length of rope through the center of your makeshift corset. You're not quite sure what to expect from him when he slips the loose end of the rope between your legs as they are spread apart. He moves around you and kneels down behind you, pressing his hot body against your back. San was wearing nothing but a pair of ripped black jeans and a leather belt with a heavy metal buckle. He preferred to feel the coolness of the room against his skin, and he refused to wear a shirt or t-shirt. It's wonderful to feel the warmth of his smooth, golden skin and the pulsing muscles that stretch and contract as he moves. His hard, massive cock presses against the softness of your plump ass, rubbing lightly against you, trying to ease the painful arousal. You can't bear to look at him with the lace blindfold that is tightly fastened over your eyes, but it makes you feel good to know you've had such an effect on him.

San stretches the rope between your beras, and you shiver a little as the rough texture of it slides between your labia. His fingers part your wet folds so he can place the rope where he wants it. San gently pulls the rope upwards, watching as the knot rubs directly against your clit, causing a burst of stars to explode from behind your closed eyelids as you finally get the stimulation that you so desperately need.

As San attaches the end of the rope to the back of your exquisitely woven corset, taking his time tightening it to tease you while keeping you safe, the intricate knot continues to rub against your swollen clit in the most delicious way.

He finally finishes tying you up and makes sure all the loose ends are securely tied to the back of the corset. San rises to his feet again, and you feel a chill run down your spine as his hot body moves away from you. He walks around you in a circle, like a graceful cat of prey, admiring the work he has done.

"Do you have any idea how bloody perfect you look, my angel? A perfect little toy for me to play with. I want you to see yourself, Princess." San helps you to your feet and guides you closer to the mirror. Then, in one swift motion, he unties the lace blindfold over your eyes, allowing you to see how beautiful you are right now.

As soon as you caught sight of your reflection in the mirror, you let out a long, drawn-out moan. You looked much more beautiful than you could have imagined, the black silk rope wrapping around your body like a smooth snake, contrasting perfectly with the soft pale tone of your skin and leaving bright scarlet marks on the most sensitive and delicate areas.

You were right—the pattern San had created on your body did indeed resemble a corset—the rope, tied in exquisite loops, ran from your chest to your waist. The tightness of the knit made your breasts look astonishingly voluptuous and lifted them up in the most seductive way possible. The rope goes down to make it look like you're wearing sexy lingerie, wrapping around your hips like a garter belt. Another piece of rope is placed between the labia of your pussy. The tight knot of the rope presses perfectly against your clitor and stimulates it with your slightest movement.

You look and feel absolutely beautiful and safe with the black silk rope tied around you and the warmth of San's large body behind you. His handsome, sculpted face is rubbing on your shoulders and neck like a contented cat, and he is purring admiringly in your ear. You were truly his perfect little plaything—the sweet plaything of a big, feline predator.

San's hands trace the intricate pattern of the rope, enjoying how it feels to wrap around your body, sometimes gently squeezing your sides.

"You are the most beautiful thing I have ever owned, my little angel. You look like a beautiful fallen angel, but that won't stop me from destroying you." San whispers in your ear like velvet. You turn your head to look at San and fall into the dark, magnetic trap of his eyes in an instant. Never before in your life have you seen someone who looked so much like a real cat in the form of a human.

Everything about him—from his mesmerizingly sharp eyes, high cheekbones, and chiselled jawline to his purring voice, sensual personality, and elegant movements—was the embodiment of a little predator. And you—you were his little mouse, the one he could play with whenever he felt like it.

San grabbed your chin with his fingers and turned your head back towards the mirror. With his other hand, he pulled on the rope between your wet folds, the tight knot rubbing against your swollen clit. You almost choked at the sudden pull of the rope as its thick texture slid over your sensitive cunt.

San moves away from you and sits down on the bed in an elegant manner, leaving you standing alone in front of the mirror. At the moment you are so confused that you don't understand at all why he has left you standing there - tied up and excited. You look over your shoulder and see San sitting on the bed, legs spread wide, stroking his thick, hard cock lazily as he watches you. He enjoys the way your body looks wrapped in his ropey silk masterpiece.

You moaned loudly, you were so excited, you want to cum right now, and San's hot, dark eyes sliding over your skin didn't make it any easier. You knew that you weren't allowed to use your hands to ease the tension between your thighs until San gave you permission to do so.

A seductive smile spreads across San's soft, plump lips as he watches you from where he sits on the bed. He slows the movement of his hand on his cock, running the pad of his thumb over the wet head. His eyes roll back in his head, and his mouth opens in a soft, sweet moan.

He nods gently in the direction of the mirror behind you, indicating that you should turn to face the mirror once more. You obediently follow his silent instructions and turn to face your reflection. You look at yourself once more and feel your pussy throbbing with desire. It only seems to increase the intensity of the stimulation as the juices flowing from you are absorbed by the rope stretched between your labia.

You feel so empty and so desperate to want San to use you, for him to sit you on his cock, to pull the ropes around your body as he fucks you deep and slow. From these thoughts, your hands begin to slide down your thighs in an unconscious way, and even this light touch makes you let out a sigh of pleasure.

"Don't you dare touch what is mine." San hisses. "If my little rope bunny wants to come, it'll be from the rope between those thick, juicy thighs or nothing at all."

You're moaning at his words, both enjoying his praise and completely disappointed that he didn't let you touch yourself. But you know San better than anyone else, and you are not going to try to awaken his dark side. You begin to squeeze your thighs together, and thick muscles tense with the effort, causing the rope to stretch tightly between the soft folds of your wet cunt. Your hips begin to rock seductively, the tight knot of rope clinging deliciously to your clit with each successive movement of your hips. Completely overwhelmed by the sensation, you throw your head back in ecstasy and let out loud and long moans. You can feel the viscosity of the moisture starting to flow out of your hole.

"Look at yourself in the mirror, angel, as you try to cum. Don't you want to see the rope sliding down your sweet little cunt while you are desperately humping it like a needy little whore?"

San is absolutely right—you do look like one. On the silver surface of the mirror, your reflection is completely depraved. Your hair is dishevelled, and your eyes are clouded with lust. Your skin is red from the tension of the ropes that are tied around your body, and it glistens with sweat. All in all, it can feel as if you've been fucked for hours on end, but San hasn't even touched you the way you'd like him to.

You begin to rub harder and harder against the rope between your legs, your face contorting in pleasure every time the knot of the rope presses against your clit, the rough texture sliding over your sensitive folds. A particularly strong movement and a tight squeeze on your thighs brings you to your climax.

"Oh God, San…" You moan loudly as you literally fall forward onto the mirror, your hands shooting up into the air as you grab hold of the massive frame to keep yourself on your feet as your whole body shakes with orgasm. Your juices flow copiously down your thighs and drip onto the floor, some being absorbed by the rope still pressed tightly against your pussy.

You barely have time to catch your breath before you are pushed forward by San's rough touch, causing you to literally press your chest against the mirror. The coldness of the reflective surface on your nipples makes them harden in an instant, making them more sensitive to any kind of touch.

"My pretty Angel..." San's voice is silky as he whispers into your ear when he presses his naked chest against your back, trapping you between the mirror and his hot body. "It was so hard for me to stop myself from cum while I was watching you enjoy yourself, but there is a better place for my load of sperm, isn't there, angel?" San emphasises his words by stimulating your clit, still throbbing from the previous orgasm, with a sharp tug on the rope between your labia. You let out a loud cry and squeezed your fingers together on the heavy frame of the mirror until your hands were white.

His tongue begins to slide slowly down the length of your neck, pressing lightly on your pulse point, which is why he can feel how fast your heart is beating at the moment. San leaves hot, wet kisses on your skin, gradually turning into dark hickeys as he continues to stimulate your pussy with a rope, sometimes pulling hard, then releasing. You feel San rubbing his big, thick dick against your buttocks, smearing pre-cum all over the tender, plump flesh, and you want to get down on your knees in front of him and lick that bittersweet wetness off his hard length. You want to hear him moan, and you want to enjoy his beautiful face as it is contorted with pleasure.

But right now you're desperate for him to fill that void inside you, and the thought of him stretching you and stuffing you with his thick cock until you can see the bulge of his length against your belly makes your pussy throb and contract, spouting fluid. The textured knot of the rope continues to press against your kitor every time San pulls on the rope, but even this delicious sensation is not enough to satisfy you. You need him to fuck you so hard. Fiercely.

You're on the verge of another orgasm when San pulls back and unties the rope from your corset. He presses you harder against the mirror with his body, biting the skin on the back of your neck, and you feel the swollen head of his dick slide between your wet folds until it is pressed against your quivering hole.

San enters you in one smooth motion, his pelvis touching your ass as his whole thick, hot length ends up inside of you. He lets out a low moan as he feels the rope garter belt around your hips, brushing against his hips with every move he makes. He loves fucking you like this—bound, helpless, completely controlled by him. San immediately picks up the pace and starts fucking you hard and fast—just the way you want him to do it.

He grabs hold of the back of your rope corset and uses it as leverage to fuck you even harder. You look at yourself in the mirror once more and lock eyes with San as he fucks you from the back. His eyes are too dark for you to understand the emotion that is hidden behind the black, gleaming irises, but you are sure that it is something deeper and more dangerous than just ordinary lust.

Your breasts bounce with each hard thrust, and your breathing becomes heavy as San's hand clasps your throat, cutting off some oxygen. This action only serves to push you even closer to your orgasm.

You can feel San's hot length pulsating inside of you as it rubs against your sensitive, smooth walls with every powerful thrust of his hips. The sound that fills the room is sickeningly wet and loud, intertwined with your screams and moans and San's deep, purring groans. It sounds like fucking porn.

The tension inside you is growing with each passing second, and the walls of your pussy are beginning to shrink as you try to hold his dick in and make it harder for him to move. Every time you squeeze his cock, bringing him closer to his own orgasm, San hisses behind you. For a second, you're completely lost in what's happening. San's hand is squeezing your throat so tightly that black spots start to dance in front of your eyes - while the head of his cock hits your G-spot every time he enters you. Tears begin to flow from your eyes, and your mouth opens slightly, either to catch your breath or to try and moan his name. You're so close to cum.

San tightens the rope loops of your corset even further and pulls you against his body before his teeth sink into your shoulder, and he pushes into you with a rough, powerful thrust. He growls like a cat as he clenches his teeth on your skin, making it bleed as he fills you with his thick, warm cum. Such an animal act of power pushes you over the edge, and you come on his cock, your eyes rolling back in and choking on your moans.

San watches your orgasmic expression through the mirror, lazily licking the bleeding wounds of his teeth on your skin. Your sensitive walls tremble with stimulation as he continues to thrust weakly into you. Some of his cum, mixed with your juices, begins to leak from your used cunt and drip onto the floor.

You remain in this position for a few more minutes as you catch your breath from the intense orgasm you have just experienced. San pulls out of you, and this causes even more of his cum to flow out of your hole. He turns you over so that you are facing him, tangles his fingers in your hair, and tilts your head back so that you are looking into his eyes.

"You're absolutely beautiful, my angel." His lips are soft and too tender as he plants a kiss on you. This is the kind of kiss that can make you fall in love, and falling in love with San is as dangerous as a voluntary refusal of oxygen. Fatal. When he leaves your lips, the look in his eyes is dark and utterly evil, and you don't know what else to call him if he's not the devil himself. "You still look too pure and sweet for me; it seems I'm going to need to work harder to get you destroyed, my princess."

[avatar-anna]

bad idea, right?

As you slipped a gold hoop through your ear, you wondered if you were making a huge mistake.

You weren't, you knew you weren't, but the butterflies swirling around in your belly were making you anxious. This was nothing, so why was your body reacting this way?

"Well don't you look hot!"

You turned to look at your roommate, jumping a little in front of the mirror. "Thanks."

She took that as her cue to come into your room, settling on the edge of your bed as you finished getting ready. You normally wouldn't mind, you and Marissa hyped each other up before dates all the time, but you didn't think she would be in favor of this particular outing. That alone warranted you to question whether or not this was a good idea, but you were confident it was, so you pushed it aside.

Well, not good, per se, but not bad either.

"Is that new? I've never seen you wear that top before."

You looked down at your cropped sweater, the one you'd cut yourself yesterday after buying it. The amount of time it took for you to figure out what to wear tonight was too embarrassing to admit—and perhaps what was more pathetic was the hours of shopping you did—but at least you'd settled for something that was on the casual side. The last thing you needed was to come off as if you thought about tonight too much, or worse, you didn't want anyone thinking you had expectations.

Shrugging, you hoped you appeared more nonchalant than you felt. "No, this was just... something I had deep in my closet."

"Really?"

No. "Really."

Having snagged the last earring in the set of holes on your right ear, you moved to the left. You pretended to focus hard on your task, even though you could've done it without the mirror, but now you were trying to hide your blush from your roommate. If she sensed something was off, she'd keep questioning you, and you really couldn't have that.

"I didn't even know you were going out tonight," she said. From the reflection in the mirror, you saw her eye your outfit one more time. "Where are you going again?"

"I never said," you told her. "It was kind of a last minute thing. Someone from class invited me."

"Like a date?" Marissa asked you. "Wait. Is this who you've been going out for coffee with the last few days?"

You winced, your hand having slipped and stabbed your ear on accident. You didn't realize your roommate had been keeping such close tabs on you, which was probably a good thing seeing as you lived in a big city together. But you hoped Marissa wasn't too perceptive. She'd kill you if she knew. So you put on your best smirk and said, "Could be."

Marissa kept peppering you with questions about the "mystery man," but you wouldn't budge. You couldn't. Finally done with jewelry, you turned around and presented yourself to her. "How do I look?"

"Like whoever you're seeing tonight is gonna fall to their knees when they see you," Marissa said.

"Perfect," you said. That was exactly what you were going for.

On your way out, the anxiety in the pit of your stomach continued to build, messing with your head and making you think this whole thing was a bad idea. It probably was, but maybe it wasn't. But then again...

"Fuck it, it's fine," you muttered. Then, over your shoulder, you called out to your roommate, "Don't wait up for me!"

"Text me at 12:30 so I know you're still alive!" Marissa called back from the couch where she was watching, re-watching, Pride and Prejudice. "And don't do anything I wouldn't do!"

Too late for that.

*.*

"Thanks for coming over."

You nodded as you took a sip of your wine. "Thanks for inviting me."

Harry grinned before sipping from his own glass. "This isn't weird, is it? I know inviting you over for dinner seems a little forward, but I feel like enough time has passed that we can catch up as friends, right?"

Friends. You really were an idiot. You'd been stupid enough to think that after the first few catch-up coffee dates, this might've been more, which was completely insane. You and Harry broke up almost two years ago now. When he texted you saying he'd moved back to the city, you agreed to see him and catch up, as any two people who used to know each other would. Then it happened a few more times, and then he texted you asking to come to his place for dinner, and you'd been confused but intrigued. Now you just felt silly.

"Y—Yeah. Of course. So, um, how—how are you?"

"Good. Just, you know, getting settled in the new apartment and finding my footing as a proper adult here and not a student. Did you know the Thai restaurant on 28th closed? I went..."

You listened to Harry as he spoke about moving back to the city, your eyes focusing on different parts of his face as you tried to determine which parts of him had changed and which stayed the same. Overall, he looked a little older, but that made sense seeing as a lot of time had passed since you'd last seen him. He had stubble on his cheeks and around his mouth as if he was trying to grow a mustache, something he definitely couldn't do when you were with him. His hair wasn't long anymore, but curled around his ears and reached just past the nape of his neck. He looked tanner, more muscular, more handsome. You could only hope he was thinking you looked more beautiful too.

"—about you?"

"Huh?" You hadn't realized that you zoned out the last few minutes.

Harry grinned, like he knew you'd gotten caught up in staring at him. "I was asking how you've been? Good, I hope? I mean, since I saw you two days ago, I mean."

Nodding, you took another sip of your wine, yet another thing that had changed since you were together. In school, it was whatever you could afford from the off-campus corner store. Now you were drinking from a bottle that had to be expensive. You couldn't even pronounce the label when Harry showed it to you.

"Good, I guess," you said. "Still in school, still working."

"At the MET, right?" Harry asked.

"Yeah. I'm doing guided tours right now, but once I get my master's I can start doing more research-based stuff."

"That's exciting. I know you've always wanted to work there," Harry said, inching closer to you on the sofa. It was currently the only piece of furniture set up in his apartment besides his bed. He'd apologized when you arrived thirty minutes ago. You didn't mind, though maybe you should've. Maybe this really was just a catch-up, not a hookup. When Harry invited you to come over, you thought there might've been some subliminal messaging, but he hadn't made a move, and the less-than-put-together apartment screamed that he wasn't trying to impress you.

Promptly, you attempted to drown your shame and embarrassment with a longer sip of wine.

"Thanks. You should stop by sometime. I get to give out free tours."

"I'd be happy to."

He hadn't done anything wrong, but now you just felt like an idiot. The entire time you were getting ready, you wondered where tonight would lead, debated if you should cancel or not because of said wondering. And in the end, maybe you should've because if tonight had told you anything so far, it was that you were hung up on your ex and all he thought of you was someone who could get him into the MET for free.

Tonight really had been a bad idea. Maybe even a terrible one.

"Um, is your restroom through there?" you asked, pointing at the shut door closest to you.

Harry looked over his shoulder to where you were pointing. "Yeah. Sorry, should've mentioned that earlier."

Setting your glass down on the floor, you stood up and hurried to the bathroom. You sat down on the closed lid of the toilet and pulled your phone out of your purse and shot a frantic text to Marissa.

You: i need you to call me with a fake emergency in five minutes.

Marissa: what? why? what's wrong?

You: i was an idiot

You: i'll explain when i get back

Marissa: five minutes?

You: make it four

Putting your phone away, you turned the faucet on so it seemed like you really had used the restroom. Now that Marissa was going to bail you out, all you had to do was finish your wine—it was really good, to be fair, so that wouldn't be a problem—and wait for her call. This night was not going in the direction you expected, and it was probably for the best to cut it short instead of letting it drag on. Dinner smelled amazing, and you'd wanted to share a meal with Harry more than anything, but now you just wanted to go home and wallow in your own stupidity.

When you came out of the bathroom, Harry was standing in his small kitchenette in front of the stove, stirring something that smelled delicious in a saucepan. With his back turned, you let yourself stare unabashedly for a few seconds before picking up your wine glass and polishing off its contents. With the small clink of the glass being set on the counter, Harry turned around, dimples set deep in his cheeks as he grinned at you.

"Dinner should be ready in a few," he said. "Here, come taste."

You knew you shouldn't have, you'd already made enough slip-ups tonight as it was, but you walked the few steps to his side anyway, opening your mouth when he raised a spoon to your lips.

"Wow," you said, honest shock in your voice when you tasted what he'd given you.

"Good, right? I've picked up a couple tricks over the years," he said, pulling the towel off his shoulder and reaching down to open the stove and pull out a pan.

"Yeah, you could never cook like this when we—Is that lasagna?"

For the first time tonight, Harry seemed sheepish. "Yeah. I was kind of hoping it was still your favorite. You used to love the one from that small Italian place a couple blocks from campus."

Had you read the situation wrong? Harry wouldn't have just made what he thought was your favorite dish on a whim. It was possible he still considered this thing you were doing platonic, but you foolishly hoped you weren't the only one who had expectations.

"Y/n?"

"I—"

Before you could say anything, your phone rang. Damn it, you thought, pulling your phone out of your purse. You answered it, trying to quickly come up with a way to call off the fake emergency. "Hey, listen, now's not a good—"

"I'm locked out of our apartment!" Marissa cried dramatically. If Harry hadn't been watching you, you would've rolled your eyes. You loved your roommate, but she didn't need to wail. "You need to come back immediately or I'll freeze to death!"

"It's the middle of July, M," you said, trying to put some intention in your voice to let her know you were fine.

"You know I have poor circulation and it makes me cold!"

"Have you tried calling the super?"

"I need you!" she wailed again.

"Okay, okay. I'm on my way," you finally said. "See you in a few."

When you hung up, you looked up at Harry, apology dying on your lips when you saw the disappointed look on his face.

"That bad, huh?"

You knew he wasn't talking about the phone call. "Maybe it's just me, but things feel awkward between us. I think we should stick to coffee from now on, you know? That seems a lot more friendly than—"

If you'd had any doubts about where Harry's mind had been regarding tonight, they were completely wiped away when he surged forward and kissed you.

You told yourself the gasp was because you were surprised, not because it felt so good to kiss him again after so much time had passed, though that did not go unnoticed by you. Everything about his lips on yours felt achingly familiar. Harry parted your mouth with ease, his hands sliding down your waist and gripping firmly. Your body reacted almost of its own volition, every one of his touches garnered an immediate response. When he settled his teeth on your bottom lip, your hands gripped his hair, when his hands squeezed your body appreciatively, you wrapped a leg around his waist, when he finally detached his lips from yours and began kissing and licking a stripe down your neck, you sighed and arched your back into him.

It was too good to be true. The way you felt, how pliant your body immediately became, his hair as it tickled your chin the lower his kisses went. It lit you on fire, made you want to burn brighter.

"Har—Harry—"

You didn't even know what you were going to say, but Harry took it as you needing him. He raised his head back to yours, taking your bottom lip between his own and sucking, his thumbs dipping below the waistline of your jeans casually. You leaned into the kiss, wanting more of the fire and intensity from the first one, but Harry wouldn't move any faster. His kiss was slower now, more drawn out, like he was attempting to taste every inch of your lips and savor it. It left you even more breathless than before.

"You thought I didn't want this? Want you?" he said, his teeth nipping at a spot where the zipper on your sweater opened.

"I—"

"Thought that the smell of my favorite perfume on you wouldn't drive me absolutely mad the second you walked through the door? I've been trying to be polite. I've been trying to be a gentleman because it's been so long, but maybe we can skip the pleasantries, hm? What do you think, mon rêve?"

It all became too much as he began to grind his hips against yours. He was still taking his time, as if there was nowhere else he'd rather be at the moment, and to be honest, you didn't want to be anywhere else, either. Using the nickname he used to call you put you over the edge. My dream, he called you, because he swore no one in real life could be so perfect that he had to have been dreaming when you met.

Bad idea or not, you weren't going anywhere. Even if this was just one night, you would make it count.

But the buzz of your phone had you pulling away with a start.

"Don't," he murmured, pressing the word against your lips with his, slowly reaching for the hem of your sweater to pull it.over your head.

"She'll keep calling if I don't answer," you said, obliging Harry's hands and hoping he would understand what you were trying to say. You weren't going anywhere, but if you didn't answer now, Marissa would track you down and come here if she was under the impression you were in trouble.

"Don't go," he said this time, kissing the line of your jaw up to the shell of your ear. "Just stay."

"And what happens if I do?" you asked breathlessly.

This wasn't a rekindling of a relationship, you knew that. Perhaps it was the familiarity of your embrace in a city filled with millions of people making you both feel drawn to each other. You'd broken up a long time ago for reasons that had yet to be discussed, one night wasn't going to change the history you shared just like that. You knew that even as you got ready to come over to Harry's apartment tonight. This was just...

"Two people can reconnect, can't they?" Harry said. He hooked your other leg around his hip and sat you on the small counterspace, his eyes heavylidded as they roved your face. His gaze sent butterflies alight in your belly, making you feel things you hadn't felt in a long time.

Before you knew it, your ankles crossed over one another on the small of his back. Your hand carded through his hair, and you grinned a little when Harry shut his eyes at the feeling of your fingers against his scalp.

Phone call forgotten, you leaned in, but moved slightly so that you kissed the corner of Harry's mouth. You kissed him all over, starting with his cheek, then along his jaw to behind his ear where you knew he was sensitive, making sure to leave a mark, just because you could. You couldn't contain your smile as he groaned and pulled you closer, held you tighter.

Your phone buzzed again, this time with a text. You didn't want to, and you could tell Harry didn't want you to, either, but you pulled away to look at it.

Marissa: hello?? i thought you were fleeing?!

"Are you?"

You held your phone close to your chest, having realized Harry read your text with you. Not letting him see the screen, you typed out a response, then locked it and set it down.

"This could be messy," you said, not sure why you were trying to talk yourself out of this. Or whom you were trying to talk out of this.

"Maybe," Harry said, running his thumb over your lip so that it separated and bounced back into place.

"And you're the one who said we were two friends catching up," you said.

"Friends hook up all the time," he said, undoing his belt with one hand while the other continued to play with you bottom lip. When he fiddled with the strap of your bra, you didn't stop him from gently urging it off your shoulder.

"I think—" the words died in your throat as Harry dipped his thumb past the seam of your lips, effectively shutting you up.

"And I think," he said, lifting you up and bringing you to the edge of his sofa. "I think I'd like dessert before dinner, What do you think, mon rêve?"

This whole evening screamed bad idea. There were too many tangled strings, too many unanswered questions, too many unknown variables. But Harry was already kissing his way down from your collarbone, his teeth grazing your skin in all the spots that made you keen and your breath hitch. Maybe it was a bad idea, but you'd come over anyway. Might as well see it through.

"Fuck it, it's fine," you muttered, gripping Harry's hair between your fingers and directing his path of burning kisses with little care for the aftermath that was sure to bite you in the ass tomorrow.

*.*

Harry was gone the next morning. Disappointed? No. Surprised? Maybe. It definitely meant there wouldn't be an awkward goodbye, but it also meant this really was a one time thing.

Which was good. You got it out of your system, got him out of your system. Last night was just a trip down memory lane. An excellent trip, but it was over now.

You stretched your arms above your head, working out the aches and pains from last night's fun. It had been a while since you'd been sore from having sex, and you'd kind of missed it—knowing that the night before had been so good that it carried over into the next day. Days, sometimes.

Searching for something to cover you up, you spotted Harry's shirt from the night before. Walking around in one of his shirts wasn't what you were going for, but it would have to do until you found your own clothes. Sliding it over your head, you prepared to stand on wobbly legs when the turn of a lock sounded at the front door.

Frantically, you rubbed at your eyes and whipped the shirt back off before lying against the pillows again as if you were still asleep, which wasn't hard seeing as you were still exhausted. Your heart was racing as you heard Harry step into the room, humming as he fiddled with his keys and kicked off his shoes.

You figured he would wake you up, but he didn't. To your surprise, Harry slid back into his bed next to you, his arm snaking around your waist and lips sponging kisses onto your bare shoulder. "You awake?" he mumbled, his thumb rubbing circles on the warm skin just beneath your breast.

Pretended to wake up, you breathed in deep and said, "A little."

"I don't have a coffee maker yet, so I went down the street. There's a latte with your name on it in the kitchen."

You smiled wide without really meaning to. You'd been thinking he'd just left to avoid an awkward conversation, but it seemed like you were both eager to put it off as long as possible. Shifting in Harry's arms, you turned to face him through half-opened eyes. His hair hung in his face, grazing the sunglasses he'd yet to take off. His sweatshirt was a little cold to the touch from being outside, making you shiver a little.

"Are you cold? Here." Harry pulled the sweatshirt over his head and helped you fit it over your head, which still had your hair wrapped in a silk scarf from last night.

When it was on, you grinned at the feeling of his warmth wrapped around you, of a cologne that was foreign to you but just as head-spinning. Reaching up a hand to his face, your fingers grazed his sunglasses. "What are these for?"

"My terribly embarrassing dark circles. I get those now," Harry said, one corner of his mouth turning up into a grin.

"Hm."

You weren't sure if he was in the mood to chat or drink the coffee he bought, but now that you were facing the broad expanse of his chest, all the tattoos that were familiar and the ones that weren't, you didn't want to do either of those things. Leaning forward, you kissed his chest, creating a path with your lips all across his body. Harry's stomach flexed, and you could feel the quickened beat of his heart when you passed over it. It made you grin as you worked your way down and sucked a hickey on his hip.

"You can tell me to stop," you said, just before reaching the waistband of his sweatpants and underwear, prepared to do away with both of them in one go.

"I don't want you to," Harry panted. He groaned at the cold air as you rid him of his clothes. "Still—Fuck, Y/n—Still reconnecting?"

You nodded, too caught up in what you were doing to speak. After a few minutes, though, just as you felt he was close, you inched your way back up and kissed him, your leg sliding over his waist.

"Yeah. Reconnecting."

*.*

"Harry?"

When you came home later that morning, Marissa was already awake and waiting as you walked through the door in your jeans and a hoodie that definitely didn't belong to you. She took one look at the sweatshirt and shook her head at you with a sigh.

"Yeah."

"He's the one you've been meeting for coffee?"

You hung your head. "Yeah. He moved back about two weeks ago."

Marissa slid you a mug filled with steaming black coffee, the smell alone waking you up slightly and bringing common sense back to your brain. You took it between your hands appreciatively, blowing over the top instead of meeting her eye.

"You know this isn't going to end well, right?"

Now it was your turn to sigh. "Yeah."

But fuck if it didn't feel right.

[cosmicluvcore]

To be human part 3

Rottmnt Leo x reader, gender neutral, friends to lovers, meet cute, apologetic Leo

Part 1, part 2

Summary: Leo has the biggest crush on you but he's afraid that you'd never date a mutant, so with the help of a clooking broach he plans to become your perfect human boyfriend!

☆

Really struggled with this chapter I'm so so sorry if it's bad!!

Tag list!!

@lunaflyer @wings-of-sapphire @ssak-i @nessarolla-in-constant-flux @envyjmoney @leonardo-dabitchy @wookiesmiles-blog @sloppy-syrup

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Leo had never actually been to this basketball court before, he knew of it, had maybe seen it in passing a few times but it was always too busy.

Too risky.

But today that wasn't an issue, he didn't have to worry about getting confused glances from others, today he was one of them. He had the cloaching brooch safely tucked under his hoodie, fidgeting with it from time to time from a mix of anxiousness and excitement.

He knew this was a pretty popular park for teens his age, it was mostly students who hung out here and it didn't take much for him to start making a friend or two. His basketball skills were flawless, using his best moves to win over a couple kids at the park was definitely helping his ego.

Though he made sure to keep an eye out for Y/N, knowing that they hung around here sometimes, they'd have to show up some time soon.

Meanwhile he could just keep embracing being a cool ass human. Lev was the name he'd given himself, it would've been insanely obvious if he'd kept his own name, he wasn't that stupid. It had felt weird at first, introducing himself as someone he wasn't. But he couldn't deny that it was beginning to grow on him as he heard other people use it.

Leo, or rather, Lev let out a satisfied huff as he confidently passed the ball, still riding this confidence boost. He looked amazing and his charms were working on everyone! Just wait until Y/N sees him now.

"Ow!"

A basketball in the face.

That was the cherry on top of Y/N's crappy day.

As if they hadn't already regrettably slept through their alarm that morning, which made them miss their school bus and forget their lunch. Then once they had finally arrived to class, their teacher had decided to give them a surprise test that they knew they'd flunked. Now they had to suffer the embarrassment of a basketball being thrown their direction.

Unlucky.

They cringed at the pain bringing their hands up to their face. The stray ball had hit them hard, but luckily no blood stained their hands.

"Oh mi gosh! I'm so so sorry- Are you okay?" A voice asked, from afar.

"Yeah... I'm okay just a bit-" Y/N hesitated as they finally met the concerned strangers gaze, "-dizzy..."

As they looked up to him he was giving them a sense of deja vú. His apologetic expression gave off a sort of familiarity but they couldn't exactly place it. Maybe it was the dizziness they were feeling from the impact of the ball, but the soft look of concern across his face made their heart flutter a little.

"Hey? Hello? Still with me?" He asked anxiously.

Y/N blinked realising they'd just been staring blankly up at the worried stranger, his voice snapping them back to reality.

"Yes- yep- I'm still here." They assured sheepishly in reply, glancing away.

He let out a relived sigh before chuckling softly, "Lost you for a second there huh? I don't blame you, that was a hell of a hit," His voice was calm with a friendly air to it, weirdly comforting though again that may have been due to the head trauma.

"You sure you're okay?" He asked again.

"I'm alright," They assured, the dizzy sensation leaving them for now, "Only thing bruised is my ego."

He let out a small chuckle, glad to hear them sounding alright.

"I'm sure your ego will recover soon enough," he smiled, "Luckily, I don't see a scratch. Phew, wouldn't want to hurt such a pretty face."

They blinked at the sudden compliment, the words echoing in their still slightly dizzy head, unsure if he was being serious or not.

"Pfft- are you trying to make me forget that you just almost gave me a concussion?"

"Me? I would never..." He hesitates, glancing away sheepishly as they call him out, "But, if I was... would it work?"

They roll their eyes in a playful manner and shrug, "Maybe try starting with an apology."

He chuckled, as they playfully chastised him.

"Right, right,"

He smiled sincerely, a mix of embarrassed and genuinely sorry, jokingly getting onto his knees.

"I humbly apologise to..." He glanced up to them, prompting for their name.

"Y/N."

"I humbly apologise to Y/N, for accidentally launching a basketball into your pretty face," He finished, his tone light-hearted, though they could tell there was a hint of sincerity behind his humor.

"Seriously though, I am sorry, I'm not really used to playing basketball with such a large audience." He admitted gesturing to the court, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck as he stood up straight.

"Don't worry about it," They replied calmly, pretty charmed by his playful attitude.

As they looked back to him, something about his face felt weird. Like they'd met before, however as much as they tried Y/N just couldn't place him.

"You know... I don't think I've seen you around here before, what's your name?"

He looked surprised for a moment, a flicker of panic crossing his face before he quickly schooled his expression into a casual smile.

"Lev, I'm Lev."

"It's weird, I feel like I kn-" Y/N's words were immediately interrupted by a sudden hit of pain, apparently this concussion decided to have a delay, "Ow- ow!" They winced, clutching their head.

Lev immediately took notice of Y/N winced in pain, his concern growing tenfold. "Hey, take it easy. You took a pretty hard hit."

He gently placed a hand on their shoulder, trying to steady them, "Are you okay? Should I go grab ice?"

Y/N bit their lip as they tried to deal with the pain. The world around them started to seem a little too bright and they squeezed their eyes shut.

"Y-yeah, yeah I'm fine-" They murmured, their voice shaking slightly, "Ice would be good."

Lev nodded, quickly standing up his mind racing as he did. What a way to make a first impression, 'Hey Y/N here's a bonk on the head, wanna go out with me?' he was such an idiot! He instinctively went to grab his odachi but paused as he realized it wasn't there.

Right.

Leo had the odachi, he wasn't Leo right now he was Lev.

~

Lev had offered to walk them home during the commotion, he figured it was just a headache from the impact but he wanted to be completely sure they were okay.

As well as take the opportunity to talk with them.

Y/N was steadying their breath, pressing cold bags of store bought ice against their forehead. The pain was slowly numbing while the pair took a seat on the steps outside their apartment block.

Y/N didn't understand why but Lev clicked so easily with them, they were always on the same page.

It was refreshing to actually relate to someone for once.

"And after all that, she decides to throw a surprise test at us! Last time I checked, surprises are supposed to be fun," They huffed angrily, "Ugh, I'm sorry for throwing all this your way."

"Hey, don't worry about it. Sometimes you just need to let it all out, y'know?" Lev offered, a gentle smile across his face, "Besides, I threw a basketball at you, you're just returning the favour."

"Pfft, I didn't think of it like that." They admitted with a chuckle.

A warm smile slowly started to form on their lips, this stranger had made them laugh today even after everything else that had happened.

Who knew that all it took was getting hit in the head with a basketball?

"You know, I'm honestly kind of surprised that you've been this patient." They noted with a light chuckle, "Most people don't like listening to whining."

"Well..." Lev hummed, hesitating a little before he finished his sentence, "I'm not like most people."

Y/N lifted an eyebrow, a curious look spreading across their face, "Oh? And how's that?" They asked, their curiosity piqued, "Are you a vampire or something, stranger?"

"Pssh, first of all vampires are a total scam," He replied with a laugh, "What's the point of being sexy for all eternity without being able to see your reflection?"

Y/N grinned, a laugh escaping as his response, "Sounds like someone talking from experience."

He simply rolled his eyes softly, "And second, stop calling me stranger my name is Lev you know."

"Well, you are technically a stranger."

"Come on, we're at 'basketball bonking' levels of friendship." He retorted with a playful tone.

"Ooh, nice alliteration." They teased smugly in reply.

Lev's expression brightened, smiling hopefully back at them, "Nice enough for me to be a friend?"

Y/N pretended to consider it for a moment, they hummed thoughtfully before finally shrugging and nodding,

"An acquaintance." They answered with a smirk.

"Ahh, there's no winning with you." Lev sighed in mock offence.

"What can I say," They grinned teasingly "I'm hard to please."

A bit of water began to drip down Y/N's face, the ice was melting quickly.

"Doesn't seem like that ice is going to last a while."

Y/N frowned as they noticed some of the cold water trickle down their face. They let out a slight huff, knowing that their source of comfort was quickly melting.

"Yeah, I guess not."

Another drop landed on their nose, and Lev couldn't help but chuckle at the way it made them blink in surprise.

"I should probably head inside."

"Right, you can get some ice that isn't melting." Lev nodded casually in an attempt to hide the wave of disappointment that crossed his face.

He genuinely wanted to talk to them, that was... cute.

"Exactly," They smiled in reply as they stood up from their seat and Lev followed, "Thanks for taking care of me."

"I mean... it was kinda my fault in the first place." He mumbled, the regret evident in his voice.

"Hey stop beating yourself up about that," Y/N scolded in a gentle tone, "I know it was an accident." They assured.

"Besides, I really enjoyed talking with you." They added honestly.

Lev's eyes lit up at that, their confession making a warm smile spread across his face.

"Really?" He asked, trying to bite back the eagerness in his tone, though it seeped through easily.

Y/N chuckled and nodded in reply, "Yeah, I'll see you around right?"

Lev nodded brightly, "I promise no basketballs will be involved next time." He grinned.

"Noted." They said with a small laugh, turning to open the doors to their apartment complex.

They gave him another soft smile, their eyes holding his gaze for a moment.

Lev smiled back at them, a twinge of relief and a hint of flattery on his face as he watched them turn to leave.

A part of them didn't want him to leave, they just wanted to stay and chat for a bit longer.

But another part was reminded of the pain in their head, yeah it was time to go inside.

They gave a small wave to their newly found friend as they entered the building.

"Bye Lev."

"Bye."

[okchijt]

Hey can you do eddsworld the main 4 with a s/o romantic head cannons

Author's Note: Thank you so much Anon for the request! So sorry it took so long in advance, I just finished my finals so I was really excited about this one and had a lot of fun with it! Hope you'll like it and that I didn't portray anyone OOC😅 And lastly, go ahead and check out my masterlist if you like what you just read and if you want to request anything yourself, thank you, and enjoy!❤

Edd

🟢 Edd would be the type of boyfriend that just wants to chill out and hang out with his partner. He's a very casual guy in every sense of the word, and so would be the relationship with him, with some physical contact and romantic gestures sprinkled in occasionally.

🟢 One of the most defining traits of your relationship is humor! You'd share inside jokes together and create made-up words only you two would understand, making the people Tom around you go insane over the nonsense you tell each other while laughing.

"How did the Coca-Cola can feel after being steamrolled?"

"It was soda pressed!"

"I fucking hate both of you"

Basically, Edd would do anything just to make you smile/laugh, no matter how stupid it might be, if he knows you find it amusing he'll say/do anything just to see your expression!

🟢 Edd likes to draw you a lot, you could be sitting, washing the dishes, playing with Ringo, reading, playing a game, etc, whatever you're doing, he will draw it! He just can't help himself, you look adorable to him no matter what you're doing so he just can't resist himself! Most of the time he'll try to be sneaky about it so you wouldn't notice so he can capture you on paper perfectly, smiling the whole time because you're his favorite thing to draw! Sometimes if he feels happy enough with the finished product, he'd present it to you shyly, hoping you'd like it.

🟢 Be grateful, because you're the only one that Edd allows to go anywhere his cola and even drink it! Being with him gives you the privilege of doing so without asking, normally if anyone else would even lay a hand on his favorite drink they'd have a rabid Edd to fight off, but with you, it's like he doesn't even notice! Which by itself says a lot about how much he loves you!

🟢 Edd might not seem like a great listener, which is true, but when it comes to you, it's a different story. Whether you just want to talk about your day or info dump him about your new hyper fixation, he'll listen to it all with a smile on his face, commenting on the things you said or asking questions. When you vent, he makes sure that you know his full attention is on you and you only. He'll listen to everything you have to say while rubbing your shoulder and once you're done, he'll hug you and try to give you some kind of advice or reassurance, even though he isn't the best at this type of stuff, he'll still try his best though. Because he can't stand to see you hurt.

🟢 Edds love language includes quality time and gift giving! He just loves spending time with you no matter what you're doing! If you're working and can't give him any attention, he'll just sit next to you or position himself where he's touching you in some type of way and just occupy himself with drawing while you do your thing. Whenever you're in a situation where you can't spend time with him, just simply letting him sit nearby and do his thing is enough for him to call it "spending time with you", cause honestly just being in the same room as you is enough for him.

🟢 As we established before, Edd likes to draw you. So logically gift giving for him is giving you drawings he made of you, you two together, or things that you like, like a favorite character or animal. He also takes requests from you whenever he doesn't have any idea of what to draw, and whatever you ask him to draw he will. When Edd has enough money, he'll spend it on some kind of gift for you that he knows you'll like. And he'll give it to you without expecting anything in return, all he needs is that excited expression of yours and a kiss on the cheek/lips and he knows spending the money was worth it.

🟢 PDA isn't one of Edd's main love languages, but he still does it to a casual degree. He's not overly clingy, but he's not distant either, he's more casual with the way he expresses his physical love to you. Like when you sit together on the couch he puts his arm around you or when you're walking on the street he holds your hand. Edd prefers to shower you with more bold PDA behind closed doors though, that's when he's the most romantic as well. He'll give you lots of cuddles and kisses, praising you and telling you how much he loves you as well. It's not that Edd is embarrassed to show this side of himself in front of others, he just feels like sharing those moments between the two of you makes it have more meaning behind it.

🟢 Edd is really opportunistic when it comes to kissing, and by that I mean he'll only do it if he feels like the moment is right or is in the mood to do so. Maybe you do something adorable, and he just can't help but kiss you wherever he can reach you first. Edd's kisses are sweet and gentle, he likes to hold you whenever he does so too. Outside of your lips, Edd likes to kiss you on the cheek the most, he finds it comforting and likes to think of it as teasing that instead of kissing you on the lips, he kisses the place closest to it, he likes feeling like a little shit sometimes, what can I say?

🟢 Will cuddle with you a lot, especially if it's a lazy day for him or he's feeling down. Edd likes to be the big and the little spoon when cuddling, it just depends on how he's feeling. As the big spoon, he'll press you to his chest while laying his head on top of yours. But as a little spoon, it's the opposite, he'll bury his head in your chest, giving you easy access to his hair. When I tell you this guy will immediately melt as soon as you start tangling your hands into his hair, you swear you can hear him purr sometimes as you play with it. Edd is honestly the best cuddling option you can get, he's extremely soft and during winter he will warm you up with no problem, and during summer he somehow is still great to cuddle with because his temperature changes with the climate you can say. Cuddling Edd is like hugging a giant soft teddy bear. Best feeling ever, I tell you!

🟢 Edd isn't clingy, but boy does he get jealous of you when he feels threatened by others sometimes! He doesn't really think much of other people interacting with you, if they're just being friendly and don't try to pull any moves on you he might even join in on the conversation or just let you have your fun while vaguely paying attention. But that all changes once he hears the other person starting to flirt with you and being a little bit too touchy for his liking. He'll pay closer attention to both of you as his expression changes from a neutral one to an irritated one, waiting for the right moment to step in as he forces himself to tolerate what's happening until he gets a clear sign from you that he should step in. As soon as he sees a sign of you getting uncomfortable he's already next to you as he puts his hands on your shoulders, squeezing them with reassurance as he gives the person a threatening smile as he says: "My partner and I need to go, goodbye!" And with that, Edd immediately pulls you away from the person and begins to drag you home. The whole way back, Edd would be uncharacteristically very touchy with you, he'd press you against him hard and hold your waist tightly as he grumbles under his breath over what happened. Jealous Edd is a rare sight for you, but when he is jealous he deals with the situation quickly and swiftly to avoid confrontation, his goal only being to get you out of the situation as fast as possible.

🟢 Dates with Edd range from casual to exciting ones! They both really depend on your/his mood, to be honest. He'd take you to a cat cafe and go crazy over the cats with you while drinking and eating delicious desserts. He loves taking you to arcades! It's an excuse for both of you to have fun while calling it a date simultaneously. Edd would just take you to places he knows you'll like or are located in the town you two live in. Though when an occasional theme park comes along, you bet Edd is dragging you there right away no questions asked! If it's a special day of yours or just an anniversary, Edd will try to be a little bit fancier and take you out somewhere nice, like a restaurant or to a movie that is extremely romantic/dramatic that he thinks you'll like or fit the "fancy" category he made up in his head.

🟢 Edd is the most basic type of boyfriend out there I tell ya! All he wants is to be with or near you all day and every day and that's all he needs! He doesn't need to have an especially romantic life with you, but he isn't neglectful either, he's just somewhere in the middle. He'll change on a whim though if you tell him to show one of his sides more often because he just wants to make you happy! He's the type of guy to shower his love on you in private while in public some people aren't even sure if you two are dating or not because of how casual he is. I think Edd in a way is near-perfect boyfriend material for does that find his specific traits attractive, and as one of those people I say he would make a great boyfriend!

Matt

🟣 Matt would be the type of boyfriend that wants to spend every single moment with you and to love you to no end type of guy. He's probably the most romantic out of the four of them, so he'd make sure all the moments you spend together show that.

🟣 It comes to everyone's surprise that someone like Matt would fall in love with someone who isn't him and even love them on the same level as he does, but here we are! To him, you are the most incredible thing in the world, someone he feels can even compete with his handsome face! He makes sure to remind you of that fact every day, because why wouldn't he? Your looks and personality are everything to him, so much so that he forgets about his narcissistic views sometimes.

🟣 In fact, Matt will do anything when it comes to helping you feel better about your appearance! Say you wanna try out a new haircut or wanna change your style, Matt is right there with you through all of it, even participating in the changes himself. He'd do your makeup, nails, hair, even skincare routine, whatever it is, Matt wants to be there and be a part of it, he calls it bonding time!

🟣 Matt doesn't usually care if other people appreciate his beauty like he does, to him only his opinion matters. But once you come into the picture, your opinion means the world to him! Anytime you compliment him, call him your: "Handsome man", or anything of that sort, this man is dying on the floor because of the amount of love and affection he's feeling because of you. No one else's opinion matters about his face or anything related to him, but yours and he makes sure you and everybody around you know that just by his reactions alone.

🟣 Since you two are dating, you are bound to get dragged by Matt to buy or find something to add to his novelty collection. You'd go on your own set of adventures for the sole purpose of expanding his collection. Matt really appreciates you going with him, it just shows to him how much you are willing to put up with for him. For some, his hobby just seems like something that doesn't matter or an inconvenience, but you don't, and he truly loves that about you. Matt 100% has a will written down somewhere that says: "If anything happens to me, give all of my novelty collection to (Y/N)''.

🟣 Matt's love language includes words of affirmation and quality time! Matt's main go-to to showing how much he loves you is showering you with praise any chance he gets! You could be looking like a hobo or a supermodel, but that man will still call you the most attractive person in the universe! Any accomplishment, whether large or small is immediately met with him congratulating you like you just won an Oscar! Not to mention whenever you feel insecure or just down, Matt will make does feelings go away in a matter of seconds because of how innocent his love for you is, he knows every right word to use to show you how much you mean to him. And he'll remind you of that fact every day no matter who you are or what you do.

🟣 You'd think Matt's second love language would be physical touch, but nope! It's quality time, baby! But I think you know that based on the examples above. The point is, anything you wanna do, Matt has to be there doing that thing with you too! No matter if it's work or something boring, he needs to be there with you! If you're busy he'll sit with you in a way where he's basically touching you and as soon as you show any discomfort or mutter that you need something, Matt is on the way to get it! Even if you didn't technically ask him to do so. He's basically like a lost puppy just following you around everywhere without a care in the world.

🟣 Matt loves PDA, he adores it! Both giving and receiving affection are one of his favorite things about being in a relationship with you! The only reason why it's not his main love language is because he finds the other two more intimate, but this easily takes third place! Unlike Edd, Matt isn't afraid to go all the way out with his affection towards you, private or in public he is all over you to some degree. Kisses, hugs, holding hands, cuddles, he will grab any chance he gets to touch you in some way. If he could Matt would glue himself to you so that he can always be with you, that's how clingy he is with his love for you.

🟣 Kisses with Matt are literally the most purest and innocent thing in the world! He holds you against him as you kiss as if you were glass, that's how gentle he is with you! Expect a lot of muffled giggles and pleased sighs whenever you two kiss, he's just so happy to have you in his life like this that he just can't help himself! Outside of your lips, Matt adores giving you kisses on the nose! He just finds it charming and adorable in a way, especially when you give him a reaction in the process, he finds them precious. It may be childish, but he's a childish man so that adds up, plus nose kisses are the best!

🟣 Cuddles with Matt are a must in a relationship with him! No occasion is needed for him to just wrap you in his arms and lay with you comfortably for hours at an end. Matt is both big and little spoon, mostly leaning towards little spoon though. When he's the one holding you, and not squeezing the living daylights out of you. Matt would be laying on his back while you lay on top of him, with your head on his chest as he kisses the top of your head every now and then as his arms are tightly but comfortably wrapped around your upper back. But as a little spoon, Matt crawls himself into a ball as he buries himself into your chest, wanting to make it easier for you to hold him. He basically feels like a giant teddy bear! Though I won't recommend cuddling with Matt during winter without a blanket, man is always cold! But during summer, it's a different story, he's basically a cooler during the warm seasons, so literally perfect!

🟣 As established, Matt is clingy af so there's no surprise that the man will act super threatened as soon as he sees others laying their dirty hands on you in a flirty way. Until Matt senses a disturbance in the force, he'll tolerate the person interacting with you if it's just in a friendly way and if you clearly don't mind them talking with you as well. But as soon as the person enters the danger zone where they start to get flirty with you, Matt will glare daggers at them as a silent threat to get them to back off. Alongside that, he'll tug at your clothes gently and whine to you that you need to go with him as he stares at you with puppy eyes. If all of that fails and the rando will try to put his hands on you, Matt immediately jumps into action! Clinging to your back like a possessive koala as he smacks the person's hand away and screams: "NO! This gem is mine! Go find yours somewhere else!'' And with that, he picks you up by the waist with his arms wrapped around it and shuffles away like an awkward penguin while holding you with a big pout on his face. He'll only put you down once he calms down a bit or you protest hard enough, and once he does you better give him lots of kisses and reassurances as you let him cling to you in any way he can as you two head back home with a still slightly upset Matt.

🟣 Matt takes his dates seriously, that's why he always puts in the effort to make them super romantic! He'd take you to places any partner would on a typical date, movies, dinner, picnic in the park, star gazing, etc. With Matt, there is no such thing as a normal date, only the best of the best for his beloved! He'll dress up super fancy and always have some kind of gift with him to give you every time. Though Matt would be happy to comply with any date idea you have, elegant/traditional dates are always his go-to because of the romantic meaning behind them by society's and his standards.

🟣 Matt is the most loving and clingiest boyfriend out there, your existence alone makes him swoon so he doesn't need much outside of his novelty collection to be happy! He's utterly devoted to you and makes sure to show you that each and every day of your relationship, so much so that everybody around you two already knows you two are together without being told so. Matt would be the perfect boyfriend for those that want to feel loved to the extreme and feel appreciated by someone, and you'd feel all of that every day with him! Top-tier boyfriend material, I tell you! No complaints here!

Tom

🔵 Tom would be the type of boyfriend that isn't really great when it comes to relationships, but for you, he tries his very best to at least be decent. He'd purposefully try to go out of his comfort zone just to prove his love for you, wanting to show you that he actually cares even when he isn't the best at showing so sometimes, but he tries!

🔵 First of all, this mad lad broke up with his bass: Susan for you so that better show just how much he cares and loves you if he picked you over his most beloved bass! Speaking of Susan, Tom often makes up songs that he plays on his bass about/for you. To which you'd always have to beg him to play you some cause he's super embarrassed about them, but with enough reassurance, he'd play you some! And if you reward him with compliments or a kiss, he may just be inclined to show you more, gaining confidence each time.

🔵 And while on the subject of music! You two would always share/recommend each other's music taste! Tom really likes listening to the same music as you whether it's yours or his, he really enjoys the moment because it's just so intimate to him. You'd share headphones, you having one bud in your ear while Tom has the other, forcing each other to stay close, which Tom secretly enjoys very much as he can't help himself but relax each time you two do that.

🔵 We all know Tom's alcohol problem, especially with his favorite: Smirnoff, which he drinks any time he can. But when you two get into a relationship, Tom tries to step back from his alcoholism for your sake. Sure, he'd gladly drink with you if you'd like, but he'd actually pay attention to the amount he's drinking and stop once enough is enough. To be honest, your existence and the relationship make him want to be better for you, and that means acknowledging his problem and overcoming it step by step.

🔵 Whether you are someone that loves Christmas or hates it, depending on which, Tom will try his best to not ruin it for you and match your energy! If you're a Christmas lover, Tom wouldn't exactly act happy about the holiday with you, but you can tell he's really trying to hold back any negative comments about the holiday for your sake. Tom may hate Christmas, but he loves you enough to try his best to not ruin the holiday for you better reward him with affection afterwards cause boy does he need it! But if you're a Christmas hater, then you already know Tom is ruining the holiday with you while calling it a date!

🔵 Tom's love language includes acts of service and physical touch! Out of everything, Tom finds it easiest to express his love for you by doing things for you whether you asked him or not. It's because he can do it without overthinking whether what you're doing is okay or not because doing something for someone else naturally makes that person happy! You could have cooked something for you two and only stepped away for a second, only to come back and see Tom already doing the dishes and insisting that he's got it covered and that you go rest. Maybe you have a pet that needs to be let out or fed and you can't get out of bed to do so, you don't even need to ask and Tom is already on it and doing it for you with no complaints, not even expecting anything in return while doing so.

🔵 One wouldn't expect that one of the main two love languages Tom has is physical touch, but here we are! Tom is actually extremely touch-starved, but won't allow himself to be touched or touch someone else until he feels 100% safe with them. At the beginning of the relationship it took a while for Tom to open himself up to such affections, but the way you took things slow and steady for him really helped and he allowed himself to feel vulnerable with you. Tom loves to give you hugs from behind, you'll be doing something while standing and all of a sudden two arms wrap around you and you can feel his head burry itself in the crock of your neck. At that point he can't live without touching you, you're his rock and he needs you to feel stable and safe. He's always touching you in some way, no matter what you're doing or what position you are in.

🔵 PDA and physical touch are basically the same things, right? Anyways, while out in public Tom is way more reserved with you because he doesn't appreciate strangers staring at the two of you, he'd still be okay with hand-holding or a kiss on his favored spot every now and then, but in private? Tom goes crazy in private, (not as crazy as Matt or Tord but still!) Basically, any opportunity he gets to show you his love for you in a physical manner he takes it. It doesn't matter what you're doing, he is touching you in one way or another. Like I said, you are his rock, his safe haven, and without you near him he'd go crazy, so holding you, kissing, hugs, hand-holding, and everything else in between is what he'll shower you daily with! Please hold him too every once in a while, Lord knows he needs it and may even have a mental breakdown from the affection alone, but he loves it I promise.

🔵 In the beginning Tom was very awkward when it came to kissing, but he eventually got the hang of it and became more comfortable! They were also very unsure and timid at the beginning, forcing you to take the lead, but with each kiss, Tom became more confident, and now he likes to kiss you with slow passion, savoring the intimate closeness with you. Besides your lips, Tom's other favorite spot to kiss you is your forehead. It's just so sweet, gentle, and innocent to him that he sometimes finds it even more intimate than a kiss on the lips. He usually kisses your forehead when you do something that he just really appreciates whether you meant it or not. Maybe you fixed the broken string in his bass for him and he'll just give you the most loving gaze and that gentle smile as he grabs your face and gives you a gentle kiss on the forehead as a thanks. He just finds forehead kisses soothing, what can I say?

🔵 Cuddles=physical touch, so Tom enjoys if not loves them a lot! Tom has a preference for being the big spoon over the little spoon. As the big spoon, it literally feels as if Tom is trying to fuse with you by how hard, he's pressing you against him. You both would be lying at your sides as Tom has his arms wrapped tightly around your lower back and his head buried in your hair as he lets the scent of your shampoo ease him. Though Tom has a stronger preference for being the big spoon, he won't complain if you're the one who wants to hold him, especially if he's feeling vulnerable that day. You'd be lying at your sides again, but he'd have his back turned to you as you hug him from behind and run your hands up and down his arms/hands to soothe him, as he feels too embarrassed to face you when he's in his low state. Again, I'm sorry but just like Matt, Tom is always cold and you'd need a blanket with you whenever you two cuddle, except for summer though, cuddling with Tom during summer feels like heaven!

🔵 As said before, Tom loves physical affection and he views you as his safe heaven basically, so he isn't much of a fan when other people touch you, but if it's a friend or you allow the action yourself, there isn't much he can do but to tolerate it. But if it's someone that's trying to get with you, that's a different story! Tom makes it plainly obvious that he hates the person just by looking at them with that huge grimace and annoyed expression on his face as soon he can tell that they are flirting with you. Unlike Edd, Tom won't wait for a sign from you or anything like that, as soon as his feelings of feeling threatened are made correct by the actions of the person flirting with you he is right by your side, hugging you from behind possessively as he puts his head on your shoulder and says: "Hey babe, is this guy bothering you?" And just from his words and actions alone, the rando gets the hint you're already taken and leaves immediately with an apology. Apology or not, that does not stop Tom from glaring daggers at the person as you drag him away back home, having to soothe him with words of affection as he grumbles under his breath about wanting to choke the person.

🔵 Tom is very awkward with dates and finds them super complicated to arrange, man doesn't have much experience with dating and wants the best for you, so he tries his best to make the dates the best they can be! Tom would never admit it, but he'd be looking up advice online on where to take his partner on a date and go based on that, which means Tom doesn't really have a specific type of date he goes on with you, it's mainly whatever the best thing he can find online, he goes with. You ain't complaining though, cause those dates range from romantic dinners to the aquarium to a musical, to a picnic! No matter what it is or where you go, your boyfriend always makes sure you're having fun.

🔵 Tom is the most awkward boyfriend that doesn't know what he's doing but tries his best anyway just to make the relationship work. He may not always understand what he's supposed to do as a boyfriend or how to do it because he is always internally freaking out if what's he doing actually works, but he'd never once make you feel like he doesn't love you. He'd remind you of that fact every day in any way he can, whether large or small. Your existence keeps him sane and happy, so he'll do anything he can just to keep you at his side, even if he doesn't always know what he's doing.

Tord

🔴 Tord would be the type of boyfriend that thinks he knows what he's doing while being a huge show off while doing so, but in reality, he has no idea how being in love and dating works. Still, he sure acts like he does cause he feels insanely confident in a relationship because he thinks it's easy and he knows what he's doing (it isn't and he doesn't) But he rarely makes you suspect that over how nice a relationship with him is!

🔴 Tord is very open with his love for guns, especially when he pulls one out of nowhere before shooting something. Even though Tord doesn't mind showing you off his shooting skills, in fact, he loves it, but he will not allow you to touch his weapon at all! No amount of reassurance will make him trust you or himself enough to give you such a weapon. He just fears something might go wrong, if there's anyone else's safety he's more worried about it than his, it's yours and he will never put your life in danger willingly no matter what.

🔴 He'd show you his little inventions like the couch one or something like that and gets giddy when you show interest in them and praise him for them. He'd never show you his dangerous inventions though, like his giant robot out of fear of losing you, but if you have an invention request for him, Tord is more than happy to make it come true! Any nondangerous gadget is at your disposal any time you want and is free to use without asking, which means something because very few people have this sort of privilege from him.

🔴 So we all know Tord likes to smoke his cigars, well, similar to Tom with his alcohol problem, he will try to smoke less if not stop entirely at one point just for your sake. Whether you made a comment about his smoking habit or not, he's sure his smoke breath just after he finished his cigar doesn't feel really good when you two kiss. So he'd try his best to lessen doing it, or at least not smoke before he gets to spend time with you just so that he doesn't smell too bad.

🔴 Tord would be the type of boyfriend to lend you his clothes but on purpose! You won't need to ask for his hoodie or anything before he one day walks up to you with his hoodie and gives it to you without a word before walking away. If you comply and wear his clothes, expect to have his eyes always on you with a flirty smirk to match. He just can't help himself but feel oddly satisfied and honored for you to wear his clothes that are always too big for you, he finds it adorable and a way of marking you by having something of him with you, but he'd never tell you that of course.

🔴 Tord's love language is unsurprisingly physical touch and words of affirmation! Out of the main four, it was given that Tord would love physical touch a ton! Tord normally isn't a touchy person at all, he avoids having physical contact with most people like the plague, but with you? It's the opposite! The second you get together he's all over you in any way and every day he can! He saves the special affection for people that mean the most to him, and you just happened to be his entire world so he makes sure you receive the attention you deserve! Sitting on the couch with his arms wrapped around you? Check. Eating together with your knees touching? Check. Driving and sitting next to each other with his hand on your thigh? Check. Just any scenario with him having his hands on you in some way is always possible with Tord. He just feels safe and comfortable being this close to you, he doesn't show it, but Tord deals with a lot of anxiety and paranoia over the things he hides from you and his friends. It can get a lot sometimes, and the only way for him to let it all out is through physical contact with you.

🔴 Tord lives for giving you physical affection, but words of affirmation are exactly on the same level for him! Tord is a natural flirt that can come up with a pick-up line on the fly without trying, that's how good he is! But flirting isn't the only way he'll verbalize his love for you, a simple thought-out compliment or praise is what you'll hear from him a lot as well. Maybe you're working on something and are getting tired of it but you have to push through when you suddenly get interrupted by Tord appearing out of nowhere as he rubs your back reassuringly and tells you how great you're doing and to remember to take breaks etc. Just like with Matt, whatever you do, and no matter what the outcome of it was, or no matter how insecure you are, you will always be met with praise from him as he kisses you all over your face. Overall, just imagine yourself in any scenario just like the one before and Tord will find an excuse to flirt/compliment/praise you.

🔴 PDA and Tord are like best friends, why would he stop showering you with love in public when you clearly deserve all of the attention you can get? He's the same as Matt honestly, there is just no stopping him from kissing, hugging, hand-holding, etc, no matter where you two are. His love for you both in public and in private is the exact same, he just wants the whole world to know who you belong to and just wants to show your relationship off! Plus Tord doesn't feel any need to tone down the affection out in public, why should he? He barely pays attention to the random people on the street anyway because all of his attention is on you, everything else just doesn't matter when he's with you so he acts like it with his affections.

🔴 Kisses with Tord happen literally almost every minute and yet he always manages to find a way to make the next one more amazing than the last. He wants you to love and remember every moment of it as he slowly but sensually moves his lips against yours with that stupid smirk on his face and half-lid eyes that scan you with satisfaction. Tord is always confident when kissing you, so there's no hesitation coming from him before his lips are on yours while holding you so close you can barely move. And all of that is what I just described how kissing with Tord looks and feels like all the time. Outside of the lips though, Tord's other favorite spot to kiss you is to no one's surprise, your neck! It doesn't even need to be sexual, he just loves to kiss you there! The reactions you give him as you stiff at his sudden touch to the neck before you slowly relax and maybe let your voice out once in a while if Tord feels like teasing you a bit with his cheeky kisses. He is a pervert after all, so you can imagine he enjoys the show you give him sometimes immensely.

🔴 Same as with Tom and Matt, Tord lives for cuddles with you! Sorry, to say but Tord is always the big spoon, under no circumstance would he willingly put himself in a vulnerable position that we call the "little spoon". The only way for that to happen is you'd walk in on him in an uncharacteristically vulnerable moment, you both know he won't reveal what made him so upset so the only thing you can think of is to lay down and hug him from behind, pressing yourself against him tightly as you whisper reassuring words into his ear. Tord would never admit it, but he really appreciated the gesture, but you won't catch him asking to be a little spoon after that, it's just not his thing. What his thing is being the big spoon though! He is literally wrapped around you like a koala the whole cuddle session, you'd be pressed against his chest with his arms wrapped around your waist and his legs entangled with yours as he lays his head on top of yours. Unlike the two before him, Tord is always warm, so cuddling during the summer is always a pain, especially because Tord can't go a single day without multiple cuddles. But during winter you cannot be more glad than to have a literal fireplace as a boyfriend!

🔴 Tord feels like everyone is a threat to your relationship with a few exceptions constantly, even if the person in question is just a friend or someone that truly means no harm Tord will always feel like he's competing over you with them. As soon as he realizes the person's intentions with you he'd glare daggers at them with an almost silent animalistic growl coming from him as crossed arms almost rip the fabric of his hoodie from how tightly he's holding the fabric. As soon as the person's hands start to move towards you in an attempt to touch you, in a blink of an eye Tord is right behind you as he grabs your shoulders and possesivly presses your back against his chest. ''Get lost before I make you" If looks could kill the rando would have been already on the floor dead from the terrifying threat and expression Tord had on his face. Before you realize what's happening the person is already bolting in the opposite direction, you only snap out of it once you feel Tord's grip on you loosen as he looks at you with a satisfied smile before grabbing your hand and walking back home. It's almost as if the situation is already forgotten by him altogether, but it isn't, in fact, he'll have that memory of you getting hit on for a while before he gets over it. He just chooses not to show you how much the situation has impacted him for your sake, though he would really appreciate a kiss or two with some reassurance as you two head home, it'll make him feel better faster.

🔴 Tord legit has no idea what he's doing when it comes to dates. Just like Tom, he'd look up advice online on how to make "the perfect date" for you. The dates he'd typically settle on are the ones he knows you'd love to go to, he'd pay special attention in conversations where you mention a specific place you'd love to go to and immediately write it down as one of the places he should take you to. Literally, anything you want he will make it happen, restaurant, theme park, cinema, arcade, etc, just name it and you're going there! Tord already knows you're enjoying yourself because he purposefully took you somewhere you wanted to go, but he'd always try to make the date even more fun with various shenanigans he does to make you laugh, making dates more memorable than they would've originally been.

🔴 Tord is the embodiment of a boyfriend that wants nothing more but to make you the center of his world if not the universe. If someone like him could get with someone like you then it's only right he makes you feel like the most special person in the world! And just like Matt, he's perfect for those that need/want to be reminded of that fact every day, whether you want it or not Tord is basically worshiping you and he'll make sure you don't forget that fact either! Honestly, you're the only reason why he hasn't taken over the world yet, you'll never know that fact personally, but it's true!

[peachyfnaf]

sun and moon show tumblr dashboard simulator. because i find these hilarious and this fandom needs one. assume this takes place in a "bad shit happens, but everyone's still on speaking terms" au for it to make the most sense kfjhsfd

0 notes

🌠 worldrecordnutellaeater Follow

when the nightmare goes so hard when you wake up you have to walk into the ocean just to make sure

🌎 princessandthepaupersupreme Follow

Lunar, are you okay..?

🌠 worldrecordnutellaeater Follow

guess

22 notes

👤 sunsthirdfingerjoint Follow

ok but the creator is kind of a dilf tho

🦙 TSAJSwillprevail Follow

he's killed hundreds

👤sunsthirdfingerjoint Follow

is a man not allowed to be a manic pixie dream girl in this day and age

🛸 moonenjoyer9315 Follow

guys are we just ignoring op's url

536 notes

☣️ mellorinefuega Follow

coming across montgomery gator in the wild is crazy. like i was just trying to make a deposit at the bank one time and he came up behind me and punched the teller in the face

🐩 hottodoggors Follow

op my girlfriend went thru a similar experience a few months ago. this dude sounds like a menace, fr. so happy hes not near me.

🐊 trustmewithyourinformation Follow

182.62.250.90

🐩 hottodoggors Follow

is that my fukcign ip address

1,102 notes

🌎 princessandthepaupersupreme Follow

This is a gentle reminder that everything will be okay, you just have to give it time!!!

🌎 princessandthepaupersupreme Follow

im seriously at my limit

🌎 princessandthepaupersupreme Follow

Just give it time, everyone!!!

🔧 applejackenjoyer Follow

earth are you okay

🌎 princessandthepaupersupreme Follow

guess

🌑 twilightsparkleno1fan Follow

🔧 applejackenjoyer Follow

nexus NO

179 notes

🪔 cloudandloud Follow

eclipse v2 and nexus are one in the same. hit post. and go to bed

🪔 cloudandloud Follow

i just woke up. ive never been this scared to look at notes in my life

979 notes

💡 ballogmore Follow

i love going to the pizzaplex with my little sister bc she's there for the glamrocks. i'm there to see if i can get my hands on that twinky little jester

🔋 buttonsandbatterypacks Follow

Which twinky little jester op

💡 ballogmore Follow

the daycare attendant model??? whomst the fuck else?????

🔋 buttonsandbatterypacks Follow

You'd be surprised how little that narrows it down, actually

34,343 notes

🧛🏿‍♀️ horseonabeach-man Follow

🗡️ leavethatlittleguyalone Follow

bro what did v2 do to you

🧛🏿‍♀️ horseonabeach-man Follow

exist

557 notes

☀️ catdadofthedecade Follow

every day i try to not let my brother rob a bank, and then every day he provides me good reasons as to why i should let him

🌕 ricksanchezreborn Follow

sun do yuo know what you could do with the money

☀️ catdadofthedecade Follow

i dont want to know, moon

🌕 ricksanchezreborn Follow

☀️ catdadofthedecade Follow

do you need a getaway diver

52 notes

🌊 themagicwawa Follow

"sun is so cute!! solar's such a dilf. nexus being insane is so ho-"

absolutely none of you can handle what i have to say about him

99 notes

👾 certifiedrobotfracker

god help me, hes so fine

🏝 chronicappleeater-deactiaved062324

yeah, him and all 5 pixels

👾 certifiedrobotfracker

i see god smited you for this one

😈 itsme-fromthebible

wrong deity, but appreciate it regardless

👾 certifiedrobotfracker

THE DEVIL FROM THE BIBLE??!?!

823,383 notes

🦌 dailydazzledeer Follow

☀️ catdadofthedecade Follow

if anything happens to this blog i genuinely hope taurus destroys the planet

55,932 notes

🦫 elchipichipichapachapa Follow

it's taken months, but i've finally finished it. the document explaining everything wrong with the sun and moon show

here's the link. enjoy

732 notes

☀️ catdadofthedecade Follow

every time one of us makes them mad, moon and nexus get closer to becoming the Hitachiin twins from ohshc to retaliate, and i fear the day they decide to just do it

🌕 ricksanchezreborn Follow

even the thought of doing that is stupid

🌑 twilightsparkleno1fan Follow

even the thought of doing that is stupid

☀️ catdadofthedecade Follow

HOW DID YOU BOTH REBLOG AT THE EXACT SAME TIME THIS POST HAS BEEN UP FOR 4 MINUTES

18 notes

🟦 woobificationofthesillies Follow

"we need more evil women in the world!!!" you people cant even handle miku

932,382 notes

🌠 worldrecordnutellaeater Follow

starting a conspiracy theory that we're all just puppets in a youtube show's script and that's why our lives are so miserable

🌠 worldrecordnutellaeater Follow

hey guys why was i shadowbanned after posting this

8 notes

[cybertronian-reader-imagines]

How would Rung, Drift, Rodimus, and Swerve help a fellow bot deal with loss and loneliness during their time on the Lost Light?

((It's not really made clear in this if Reader lost someone due to death, a bad breakup, or something else, so take it however works best for you!))

TW: Mention of religion (no points for guessing which bot brings it up lol), mention of alcohol-like substance

Everyone aboard the Lost Light was running away from something. For you, it was the only person keeping you on Cybertron slipping away, leaving a crater in your spark that made a ship full of crazy seem pretty good, actually - it was, at least, better than being alone.

You have the good sense to actually talk to Rung about this, and he's very encouraging. Maybe running wasn't the best way to deal with the grief but, well... What's done is done, the ship ain't about to turn back to make you face your emotional problems. On the bright side, meeting new people would still be the best solution back home, and there's plenty of people to meet here! He encourages you to give yourself the time and space to grieve, but not to lock yourself away either.

Drift, bless his spark, seems to think the solution to all of your problems would be converting to Spectralism - a new paint job in colors representing renewal and honor is a great way to deal with loss lingering in the spirit, he says. You're not so sure about that, but you let him give you a makeover anyway, and just getting to share stories of your lost loved one while he works does help. Not to mention a little self-care at a time like this goes a long way.

Rodimus is basically the opposite of Drift. Instead of helping you talk your feelings out, he's there to distract you from them as much as you need, whenever you need it. Want to watch this really confusing Earth movie Whirl insists is the best thing fleshies ever made? Want to see how long it takes the two of you to drive Ultra Magnus (and later, Megatron) insane? Want to go on an incredibly stupid adventure? Done and done - he gives you a much needed break from working through all of it every waking cycle.

You'd expect Swerve to be a lot like Rodimus in this respect, but it turns out he's actually quite the listener, and even cuts in with some shockingly thoughtful advice from time to time as you sip your drink, on the house. "Honestly, you couldn't be in a better place to feel lost and alone," he says. "From what I've heard over this bar, the Lost Light could have its own theme song about that... Sometimes, I think I have more therapy clients than Rung." You wonder if he realizes how little he's joking.

[k2ntoss]

Omg omg omg

Pls do “shit— do that again” and “this is so wrong” with dickie grayson pretty please

(The second prompt gives enemies to lovers vibes SO MUCH, so if it’s included the better.)

— ❤️‍🩹 xx

SECOND ANON WITH AN EMOJI, LET'S FUCKING CELEBRATE!! first of all, thank you so much for this request, i have an idea buzzing into my head and if i don't post it i'll go insane (i'm already insane) and second... i'm listening to the weeknd so yeah....

“do that again- shit, just like that, right there.” + "this is wrong... so wrong." (plus enemies to lovers trope omg yes please!!!)

dick has never been known to be a bad detective, his partners adore him and so does every kid and person he helps, he does his job so well everyone is aware that whenever he's got a new case he will be at it all the time but there is just one person that doesn't really agrees with that, dick knows it and it gets on his nerves because it's always just his cases and investigations the ones that you observe and deny before they reach the court.

he really hated the moment he had to go present his case to the prosecutor, mostly when it was you who was assigned to it and what's worse it's that dick knows that you take it personal because there's no way on earth you let mobs or criminals to pay for justice and that is pretty much clear when you have an amazing percentage of cases won where criminals end up getting what they deserve.

"you have to be joking," at this point is almost a routine. dick arrives to your office with a folder filled with documents and reports from the officers and his own, a box full of evidence he picked up and sent to check to the labs, all the signed paperwork and the hope that you won't send him back to re-do all the work from zero "everything is in that folder!"

"detective, would you lower your damn voice?" you'd ask him, the snark on your tone is upsetting and dick has to take a deep breath to cool down a bit "there are several forms you haven't filled, how do you expect me to work like this?" and it was true, paperwork was important even if everyone hated doing it.

"you can't return the whole investigation for a couple of stupid papers! it's a big case, if you return it to the station we'll have to let the criminals go because the time runs up." dick is starting to lose every trace of patience and good will he has, hands gripping the fabric of his trousers and his hands clench a little more when you look at him, unamused and with any intention to help him.

"i can't help you if you don't bring everything in order, not to say that there are so many things that don't make sense on your files," you say, reading through some pages "this doesn't looks like a real detective's work, how do you expect me to do anything with this?" you leave the folder down, looking at him with your arms crossed over your chest and leaning back on the chair behind your desk.

dick is about to scream, you're telling him his work sucks and sending him back to do it all over again when he is sure there are cases pilling up back in the station but he has to hold it back. it's weird that the person he despises the most isn't some villain he fights at night but a prosecutor that he desperately wants to shut up for once and for all.

you are way too cocky for your own good and since the first case you dismised from his hands he has wanted to show you why he had the reputation he had, he's fighting his rage right now because he knew that in this case you were right and it would be stupid to keep pushing but he was too stubborn and a little too lost on how much he liked to get in your nerves.

"there's no way you can't help me with that case," he says and dick's voice is now an indicator of how upset he is feeling, not only because of you dismissing his work but also because this time he wasn't right (not that he has been before, he always forgot a paper or the whole background of a piece of evidence because he was too distracted on thinking how jolly the moment would be when you'd had to accept his work) "you just don't want to do it and that's bullshit, you should be dismissed from all the station's cases because this is personal."

"detective grayson," you warn him, if it was on your hands you'd help him just as you always tried to help but as a prosecutor you had to stick to the rules and make sure your coworkers did just the same "i'd suggest you to lower your tone and keep your emotions in check, the fact that i can't work with this investigation it's not my fault." you said, letting the folder fall back on your desk before standing up.

there went the last string of patience and good will dick had, he stood up but stayed still until you started walking your way to the door and he'd be lying if your figure wasn't distracting him a little bit with the way that greenish button up shirt hung a little loose on your shoulders but gave a hint of your figure. he had to shake his thoughts away and as soon as he saw your hand reaching for the door he darted towards you, pushing the door closed shut again and standing a little too close to you.

dick is hovering over you, looking down as his eyes fix on yours and there's no way to hide the surprise of the sudden outburst that causes you to flinch a little.

"you think so high of yourself, y/n," dick hisses as his eyes narrow, he leans in closer and it sends a spark that danced between anger and pure expectation from what he could do "you think that you make the fucking calls and that is just so upsetting, i wish i could just bring you down from that cloud and show you just what you are." he points at you and it's distracting because dick grayson has always managed to keep his anger in check.

"keep your emotions in check, detective" it was another warning, it came throught gritted teeth and narrowed eyes as you stand still ready to snap back at him on the first chance "am i the one that thinks too high of themself? let me break it to you, grayson, at least i'm trying to do my job as i have to."

the banter between you two has always been a little more snarky and less heated, not to be taken so serious because what you wanted to do was to push dick to do his absolute best so you could also help people to be safe out on the streets, living their lives but this time was just different because there was something else fueling the words.

there's a spark that ignites inside of dick as soon as your words hit close to home and next thing you know is that you're being cornered against the door of your office and he managed to inmobilize you; he grabs your shoulder to turn you around, his right leg between yours and his face right next to yours.

"you think you're better than the rest of us just because you get to take the credit of putting the bastards we catch behind bars but you just have to sit pretty here," he speaks lowly into your ear, his tone making it clear that he was letting it all out, months of bottled up frustration flowing out of him "you do nothing but talk, that's all that mouth of yours can do and it was just time someone put you in your place."

"richard grayson, you better back the fuck up now or–" you start, the warning hanging in the air and interrupted by a low grunt that just escaped your lips when he pressed a bit more against you just to mess with your nerves, causing his thigh to press a bit more between your legs and sending a jolt through your spine that mixed with all the emotions "do that again– shit," and even tho he is surprised and a little taken aback by your reaction he complies, moving closer until he could feel his leg pressed up against your clothed core and he decided to grind it teasingly "just like that, right there..."

"that's all it takes to turn off your brain?" he asks mockingly, his hand pressed between your shoulders as his lips brush against your era and it's easy to hear the smirk on dick's voice "pin you against the door and let you grind yourself against my thigh? it's pathetic how a smartmouth like you turns to a puddle when someone touches your cunt like this."

yeah, it's pathetic because he managed to shut you up without even trying and he's proud of it. his hand trails down your back until it reaches the lower part of it making sure to hold your body in a way you couldn't move your hips to grind on his thigh.

"go on, why don't you move?" he asks teasingly, his hand pressing harder when he felt the jerk of your hips and an amused laugh escapes his throat when you grunt frustrated "who would have thought that miss great prosecutor was such a desperate little slut." and he could have stopped there, make you help him because you'd be too embarrased to deny him anything after putting this show for him but dick decided to lean in and press a lingering kiss on your neck that made your breath catch on your throat.

"dick– fuck, don't be such an ass" you say in a hoarse tone, looking at the ceiling as you try to rock your hips once again, feeling yourself able to do so when dick's hand wanders from your back to your stomach and then up, resting between your breasts as he breathes you in.

"pretty fucked up, isn't it?" he asks against your neck, nibbling on the side of your neck as his fingers start undoing the buttons of your shirt while you grind against his thigh and everything feels so forbidden, one of your hands moving to lock the door because there was no way you'd let yourself get caught being groped by the detective you've told all your department you hated.

it wasn't news for your coworkers that dick and you had a long history of not getting alone but truth be told, you just wanted to make dick give his best because that would also allow you to give your best. it was a win-win, if only he saw it that way because you weren't trying to buy more time for the criminals to make up evidence or build new alibis or get fake witnesses.

dick gets your shirt open, his hands messily working on pulling your bra down and growling lowly when he saw your breasts spilling out against the door, his eyes moving from your chest to the way your features contorted from the way you were getting yourself off like this. with every jerk of your hips he could feel your ass pressed against his cock, the bulge inside his dressing pants now hard in a way you could feel it againt your body.

he lets go of you, turning you around and ignoring your grunt when you were left without that pleasurable feeling on your aching pussy. his hands gripping your hips as he presses a hungry kiss on your lips, demanding and bruising between the smirk it draws from him when you kiss him back with the same need as your hands undo his shirt, pulling it away from his body as he manages to walk until he is sitting on your desk with you sitting on his lap.

the messy making out is only interrupted when the clothes come out of your body, heavy breathing as he squeezes and gropes your flesh into his hands in a rush of pure lust that's fueled by the way your wetness feels when pressed against his hard on as he moves you to tease your pussy, his shaft moving between your folds and the wet sounds are only muffled by the low moans and growls you both try to keep as low as you can.

"this is wrong..." you say breathlessly, feeling how dick picks your body up with his arm around your waist as his free hand lines his tip with your entrance and he grunts into your neck when you are the one that slides down on him with your eyes closed shut "so wrong, god."

it's not much when your body moves on its own, going up and down on his cock as he looks up at you, hands gripping your waist to hold you as his lips are around one of your nipples, sucking and licking at it while your nails sink into the skin of his shoulders.

you'd never set yourself into this kind of situations but there was no time to think about how wrong this was when it felt so good, the way he filled you up as you rode him slowly, teasing him to grip your hips in order to set the pace to make you bounce on him.

"you look so good like that, fuck," he whispers against your chin when you start grinding on him, his hands on your hips so hard that his fingers bruise your skin as he thrusts deeper into your pussy "so desperate fucking yourself like a bitch in heat, you think you're using my cock for your pleasure but you're nothing but a pretty toy."

his words work as a turn on, the way he looks at you with hunger and need as he pounds harshly inside your cunt makes you moan without care on who could hear you.

"you look so pretty like that, so tight around me" he grunts into your ear and it's right there when he takes the lead, setting a fast pace as he holds your hips to make your body bounce "you like it like this? when you're being used like a dirty whore, sweetheart?"

"i like it so much, fuck–" you whine and the sound of your voice makes him chuckle, this was pretty bad because the degrading words were making you needier and the way you couldn't hide it made you appear more like a slut for him, clenching around him the closer you got to your climax as he hit all the right spots with each thrust he gave.

it was hard to talk for you, between moans and whines of pure delight that came after each stroke dick made as he kissed your jaw but he had no problem on doing it while his hand moved and reached that space on your pussy.

his thumb pressed against your clit made you shiver into his arms, whinning pathetically as he played with your sensitivity with a wide grin "look at the little mess you are, always so collected and now you're here with your legs all spread for me to fuck you into a brainless slut."

"dick– i'm close" you say, eyes teary and voice broken as your face finds a place into the crook of his neck but it's not too much time until he finds your gaze, leaning in to press a reassuring kiss into your lips before he pulls back and nods, thrusting in a faster pace and with deeper strokes.

"c'mon, cum for me, sweetheart." he growls against your ear, both hands holding your waist as your movements become sloppier and erratic, the tension on your belly building more and more until your orgasm hits your whole body making your walls clench tighter around him "that's it, that's a fucking good girl... i'll pull out now, yeah?"

and he doesn't wait for your response, knowing you won't be able to think straight while you were still on your high and with you still straddling his lap dick moves, strocking his cock until he is throbbing into his fist before he reaches his own climax, painting your stomach with those milky white streaks.

maybe, just maybe now he could find a way to fix his work without feeling so upset about it.

[seasons-of-death]

bsf!rafe goes to reader's house

warnings: fluff, smut, mdni hi everyone!!! i took a few weeks off but i'm back and better (and hotter) than ever! anyway. kissesss!

rafe could hear his heartbeat in his ears as he pulled up in the driveway of your home, his jaw clenched as he half-heartedly parked it in front of your house; he hadn’t even thought of what he’d say to you, only thing he knew was that every part of him was screaming at him to go see you.

you could hear a car screech to a halt outside your home from the second floor, and even though you knew who it was, you made your way to the balcony of your room, seeing the blonde man making his way to your doorway in a determined stride.

the pounding of his fist against the wooden door could be heard all around the large home as you rushed down the stairs, your bare feet against the soft carpet, looking down to make sure you wouldn't trip, your mind too fuzzy to make sense of anything.

rafe stood outside your door, his clothes soaked by the rain, the blonde chewing on his lower lip as he looked at anywhere but the peephole, turning and walking away when it had been almost three minutes without anyone answering the door.

a part of you was confused why he didn't just open your door; both of you had the keys to the other's house, having secretly exchanged them when you were twelve and swore your friendship would last forever.

when he was almost at his car, you flung the door open, rushing to rafe, your bare feet prickled by the wet pavement, the boy turning to look down at you with wide eyes.

"why did you come here?" you ask, raindrops falling onto your face, making your vision blurred. rafe swallowed, looking at anywhere but you when he tried to find an answer to your question.

"you, uh, you hung up before i could say anything."

"yeah, but you could've pretended it never happened. why did you come here?"

he sighed, rubbing his jaw, his tongue poking out from in between his lips, "what do you want me to say? that i miss you?"

"well, do you?"

"jesus." he let out a noise that was between a scoff and a laugh, shaking his head. "of course."

"why? why do you miss me? after everything you put me through, what gives you the right to miss me?"

"i don't know!" he exclaimed, throwing his hands up, "i don't know why i miss you, when i know that you deserve something better. but for some reason, i can't stop thinking about you. i'm miserable without you. it's like you've ruined me. you make me not want any other person, because no one can be you."

"oh yeah?" you said, cocking your head, "what about sofia?"

"i broke up with her! you wanna know why i was with her? because i was afraid. i was afraid that if i told you what i felt for you, i'd lose you. but now, it doesn't even matter because i already lost you. it's so fucking infuriating, because you know me, i'm not the type of guy to say sappy shit and make some kind of romantic love confession, but for fuck's sake, i don't even like most of the people around me, let alone love, but you? for some fucking reason you're an exception."

he placed his hands on your rain-soaked cheeks, your hair sticking to your skin as you looked up at him, small drops forming at the corners of his eyes.

"for some reason my brain, my body, my stupid ass heart are all so fucking drawn to you, and it drives me so insane that i pretend to want to be with someone else just so you'd end up pushing me away and hating my guts even though you're the only person i can put up with. every part of me has belonged to you for so fucking long, but for some reason i could never accept it. but, fuck, i have nothing to lose anymore."

and without a warning, his lips were on yours, and even though you knew you deserved better, no part of you wanted to pull away from him, allowing him to lead you inside, into your very own bedroom, the two of you peeling off your rain-soaked clothing.

his lips might've just made a trail down your stomach, but the heat it caused was everywhere; your head, your collarbones, your tits, your stomach, your pussy, your thighs, your calves, your entire body on fire in a way that you hadn't experienced before, not even with him.

rafe's focus was on your tits, his mouth on your right nipple, first pressing small kisses, then small licks, until your nipple was in his mouth, all the while his left hand was on your left nipple, rolling it around between his fingers, occasionally squeezing it in a way that made you curl your toes.

and when you felt his cock at your entrance, you were prepared for him to fuck you like he often did; roughly, fast, without much care in the world; but he didn't, and even when he had been thrusting into you for so long you couldn't even remember how long it had lasted, he kept at his pace, he kept rolling his hips at the same pace, his right thumb rubbing your clit while he pressed kisses on your neck, softly murmuring the words you'd been craving to hear for so long.

"i love you."

and no matter how many times you came, he kept at it, at that same slow, yet incredibly intense, pace, until you could no longer process what was going on.