#just showing support for my bbys

[tenebrous-academic]

I think starting off with bucktommy having so many scenes focusing on them just made us greedy (Understandable, how could you get enough of them?😭). Like I'm mourning tommy's scene with henren. It's already established that chimney is bucktommy warrior but I really wanted to see how things between hen and tommy are. Like damn, there's no way we're finding out huh?

But considering how short the season is I think tim is doing a good job at establishing bt. We've seen tommy in many 118 important moments (the rescue, madney's wedding, the ceremony, even mentioned in Bobby's goodbye 😭, and the hospital). It's safe to say that tommy is like no other love interest. And buck already knows/feels that much. We only need the little nudge that makes him go: "yes, he's is the one for me". Could be in the hospital scene, could be not.

But the desperation is felt and REAL, like it's our last chance to get any substantial bt scenes to live off during the hiatus. It's gonna be wild out there

Anon, we were given a FEAST at the start of this season. The soft conversations, the chin grabs, the promise of something more beginning to blossom???? We had everything we wanted in the start of their relationship. The queer awakening of Buck was given so much attention and screen time (as it should) and, once the storyline focused on other characters (as it also should because this isn’t just the Buck show), we had to make do with small interactions and background scenes. But oh my, what we were given to begin with was almost too good to be true. It was such an authentic start to a relationship. The chemistry, awkwardness, earnestness, and desire was so amazing to witness because it felt so real and lasting. And it’s created such a believable couple that we’re still here, even though we’ve basically had nothing else to go off of since the kiss in the hospital.

It absolutely makes sense that people are saying it doesn’t feel like we’ve been shown enough of an established relationship because we were given so much of the start of the relationship. There seems to be a disconnect now where, if people aren’t shown it, then it just doesn’t exist. I don’t agree with it, but I understand why some fans are upset or are claiming it’s not there.

And, because this fandom is amazing, we’ve thought of all the scenes and interactions we want to see. Just look at A03 for the sheer untapped potential of Tevan content. But we’re not getting them because this show already has so much to showcase. RIP Hen and Tommy discussion scene, RIP Hen and Buck heart-to-heart over Buck’s newly discovered bisexual identity.

I completely agree that Tim is doing his best to give everyone equal screen time. We already know he’s returned from his Lone Star vacation with a determination to bring Buck back to former glory and I think the journey he’s on now is going to be incredible to witness. Tim is laying a foundation for Tevan in a way that isn’t monopolizing the screen (which we know Buddie fans would also complain about if that were happening) and he’s giving us just enough crumbs to keep us fed. The scenes you highlighted are so important and it’s weaving Tommy into the fabric of the 118. You’re so right that it’s unlike any other love interest. Taylor was there but we know she was there for the stories and the exploitation. Tommy is there for Buck.

Depending on what we get next episode for the finale this hiatus is going to be so wild. If we’re lucky, we’ll get some truly sweet moments between Tommy and Buck. If we’re not lucky, Tommy will only be there briefly (or maybe even only mentioned) and we’ll have to rely on fanfics to sustain us with codas and AUs.

Either way, what a way to go.

[gregoryeddiesgoldchain]

don't get me wrong i still love and believe in teddie but they're not feeding us right now. i'm starving y'all and i'll take what i can get lol

[fluffs-n-stuffs]

Pokémon Horizons Episode 32 spoilers under the cut!

WHAT IS HAPPENINGJGNGNSUDFHS

[fastandcarlos]

Lucky Charm ~ Lando Norris

Summary: Y/N finally decides she’s ready to brave the chaos of race day at the paddock, and the boys are more than happy to give her the introduction she deserves

liked by georgerussell63, alex_albon, and 51,292 others

ynusername: imola here I come 🇮🇹

2,282 comments

username1: ofc she’s going to support lando

alex_albon: who said anything about lando?? maybe she’s there to cheer for me??

landonorris: can’t wait to see you bby 🔥

username3: I swear these two are complete goals

username4: it’s not fair how one person can be this pretty

carlossainz55: there’s a seat in ferrari with your name on

maxverstappen1: woah there! we’ve already called dibs on having her at red bull

landonorris: um excuse me…I think you’ll find y/n will be spending her weekend with me

ynusername: you lot are the worst 🤦🏻‍♀️

username5: I love seeing all my favourite people argue

username6: this is my highlight and the race hasn’t even begun yet…

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

landonorris just posted

liked by carlossainz55, oscarpiastri and 728,220 others

landonorris: race day ready with my lucky charm by my side 🍀

tagged: ynusername

83,271 comments

username7: mum and dad 🥺

ynusername: cannot wait to cheer for you tomorrow!! ily

landonorris: ily so much more ❤️

danielricciardo: @landonorris i love you more than y/n does

ynusername: @danielricciardo that’s impossible

username8: how have we survived waiting this long for paddock y/n and lando

charles_leclerc: it was worth the wait tho…right?

username9: can you pls just marry each other now and have lots of beautiful babies

alex_albon: how do you race for 2 hours and still manage to look this good norris

landonorris: @alex_albon you just need a y/n in your life, she always leaves me looking a million dollars

alex_albon: @lilymhe get better

ynusername: @alex_albon oi we do not accept lily slander in this household

landonorris: ahem, aside from me ofc

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

ynusername posted

liked by landonorris, lewishamilton and 39,201 others

ynusername: ready for the race and to cheer for my man! 🏎️🏁

tagged: landonorris

4,926 comments

carlossainz55: if you’re cheering for your man, why are you not wearing my shirt??

username10: excuse me sir?? you are very much mistaken

ynusername: if I was cheering for my favourite ex team mate of lando’s then you’d be my number 1 😍

danielricciardo: 💔💔💔💔

landonorris: did I ever tell you how good papaya looks on you?

landonorris: I just know I’ll win today with my lucky charm watching over me 🩷

username11: pls can we all adopt y/n as our lucky charm

francisca.cgomes: how have you been here 2 days and you’ve still not come to visit me

pierregasly: ha! she’s come to visit me, how does it feel to be second fave??

ynusername: @francisca.cgomes just saving the best til last aye

username12: if we do not see y/n at every race from now on there will be a protest

username13: I just want a love like theirs…is that too much to ask for??

georgerussell63: if you want a shirt upgrade y/n then just lemme know…

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

landonorris just posted

liked by oscarpiastri, mclaren and 1,291,749 others

landonorris: cloud nine ☁️ p1 and an evening with my best friend…what more could a guy want?

tagged: mclaren and ynusername

82,201 comments

oscarpiastri: that reminds me mate, I’m in the room next door, have you got any ear defenders?

ynusername: OSCAR PIASTRI!! SHUT YOUR MOUTH

landonorris: good idea, it’s gonna get loud tonight!

mclaren: another top week lando, well done! this lucky charm of yours might have to show up more often

username14: I don’t want this race weekend to end

username15: pls lord don’t let this be the last time we see y/n at a race

danielricciardo: congrats bud, fully deserved!!

maxverstappen1: a million dollars for y/n to be my lucky charm next weekend

landonorris: no amount of money will ever let me give y/n to you…she’s mine only

carlossainz55: is it possible to love two people more?

ynusername: stop with the third wheel dramatics!!

ynusername: had the best time ever!! can’t wait to do it all again soon my love 🩷

 ˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[mirohlayo]

SUCH A SIMP

( The monegasque driver has no problem showing himself to be particularly affectionate with you )

warning : fluff, charles spamming you with messages (but it's cute)

note : race week again bby

word count : 2.2k

Oh. It's funny how the monegasque who seems so confident turns into a real man unable to breathe properly when he's away from you.

A young woman who has only just taken her first steps in the incredible world of F1. You were able to apply for the red team, the italian Ferrari team. A great and majestic racing team whose name demands respect and recognition, especially for Italians. And you had just joined these motorsport gods in F1.

Finally, you are not in charge of the most difficult and relentless job either. You were recruited as a new social media manager, certainly with a lot of tasks to carry out, but undoubtedly a little less important than those of the racing engineers and strategists. However, the media is a source of content that fans of the sport love and your ultimate goal is to create the best videos and content possible for Ferrari.

So little by little, you appeared in the Ferrari motorhome. Your colleagues were starting to remember your face and your name, and after a good three weeks on the job, a lot of things had radically changed.

Firstly, you had integrated well into the Italian team. Good relationships and understandings with your colleagues. And secondly, and not least, a new form... of friendship - if we could describe it that way - was formed between you and the famous Monegasque Ferrari driver. Charles Leclerc.

The young man found himself curious about you, interested in this young new woman of his age who, despite the difficulty of the work, completed the tasks required in no time, a fairly perfectionist quality. It must be said that we can clearly see that she really likes this job. And this had intrigued Charles, who often found himself looking for the young brunette.

With the support of his teammate Carlos, who pushed him to take the plunge to try to approach you, Charles ended up introducing himself to you - as if you didn't already know him in this environment. He approached with a shy, almost nervous smile, while he could not hide his completely admiring, almost affectionate look. He struggled to form his sentences, far too dazzled by your sublime beauty and presence.

You seemed quite shy and reserved at first, and that was the case in everyday life. But that's what made you so charming, and Charles felt his heart beat harder and harder every time he managed to make you smile or laugh, a blush that appeared on your face and that he loved more and more.

You blink suddenly, as you start walking with your shoulders straight again in the paddock. You were so lost in your thoughts, remembering how this friendship between you and the driver had blossomed, that you hadn't noticed that the Ferrari motorhome was right in front of you.

The automatic doors open as you enter the small cube, shyly greeting the employees and your colleagues. “Hey, Y/n.” Carlos smiles at you kindly, happy to see you there. You hadn't set foot in the paddock for 2 weeks already, the team had offered you the opportunity to work remotely. You jumped at the opportunity, the chance to spend some time with your family during the week.

“How were your two weeks away from us? I bet you missed us” He winks at you, knowing deep down that a part of you was eager to get back to work there. "It was great. I got to enjoy a little bit with my family." You smile sincerely, remembering the activities you shared with your parents. “But it’s true that I missed working within the stable itself. And then, I couldn’t wait to see you again.”

Carlos' smirk is evident, his arms crossed over his chest as he smiles more and more. You raise your eyebrows slightly, intrigued by his reaction. "Is something wrong? Did I say something funny?" Finally, he chuckles weakly as he shakes his head. “I’m just thinking about how a certain man here was also very, very excited to see you again” He purses his lips, narrowing his eyes, leaning down to your ear so he can speak in a low voice.

“And although I really like you Y/n, that man isn’t me. Besides, I’m sure he’s currently complaining about how much he misses you.” He stands up straight and gives you another wink, followed by another smirk. You feel your cheeks heat up, blush violently. You try to look away, embarrassed.

You know very well who Carlos wants to talk about. You wanted to deny it, to tell yourself that it wasn't true and that it was only your conscience playing with you, but after Carlos' words, all these questions seem true. "Come on, go. You must have a lot of work, just like me. See you later, Y/n!" Carlos pats your shoulder as he walks further behind you.

You don't know how long you stood there in the middle of the motorhome floor, but long enough for you to think about what just happened. Carlos is always honest, and when he saw you in the presence of Charles, he did not hesitate to make some embarrassing remarks to you, like that the monegasque looked at you with hearts in his eyes or that he particularly liked to seek physical contact with you.

These remarks made you blush and Charles always seemed to become embarrassed, more shy than before as he begged Carlos to leave you alone. Because the Monegasque driver knows that his teammate is aware that he has a weakness for you. More than a weakling, he's literally a simp for you. But he really doesn't want you to know.

Or rather, he would like to but he's afraid of rushing you or of you not feeling the same way. After all, three weeks might be too early for you, but for Charles it was enough to make him completely lovesick for you.

You finally come to your senses, and after checking that your face is no longer completely red, you sit comfortably on the chair in your office. You finally got to work, responding to the last email you missed. A notification vibrated your phone, and glancing at the screen, you saw Charles' name.

You really wanted to continue working seriously, you had promised yourself to get back to work but the notification and the message from Charles were running through your head. So, despite yourself, you grab your phone and open your messages to click on the driver's message. Your gaze softens as you read it, your heart racing.

Charles Lec

I heard you finally arrived to the circuit. can't wait to see you again, miss you y/n :(

see you at the 11 o'clock meeting

The message makes you blush again, more lightly this time. But just with a simple message, Charles knows how to make your heart beat and put you in all your moods. He is charming, funny, and caring. Of course you had to fall in love with him. And Carlos' words said earlier secretly gave you hope. Hope for something deeper.

You were about to respond, but your eyes drifted to the messages he had sent you earlier in the month, specifically during your two weeks of remote working. And reading the messages, that's where Carlos' words took on their full meaning.

Charles Lec

07/06

i just learned that you are remote working, that's why I didn't find you at the paddock

i'm sad that you're not here but you also need to rest during these two weeks :(

miss u a lot

09/06

hello you ;) hope everything goes well.

i don't know if you saw the qualifying but I'm starting the race p11

the race will start soon, I hope you can still watch it

can't wait to see you again, gorgeous

still miss u

12/06

it's not race week but I would have liked to spend these few days with you but you work and you must surely enjoy your family

eat well and don't stay up too late, pretty girl

have a good day :))

14/06

i miss u y/n

i feel like it's been forever since I last saw you

I have already planned a few little things to do when you come back, call me back when you can :)

15/06

hello youu

In 1 week I'll see you again but I can't wait any longer

i think I'm gonna die if I don't talk to you right now

can i call u please? :(

16/06

i did a little workout today and I will continue next week

we see each other again in less than a week and all I can think about is that

take care sweetheart

miss you a lot lately :(

not just lately, miss u always, every single minute of the day

Everything seems to fit together like a puzzle. So Carlos was telling the truth, the man who is so eager to see you again is definitely Charles. Come to think of it, he texted you almost every day. To tell you how much he missed you and that he wanted to see you again, not forgetting to add a few pet names here and there.

This kind of revelation changes everything. Your feelings, the way you think and behave. You were still surprised at the idea that Charles could potentially love you the same way you love him. But there is no doubt about it, after everything that has just happened in a few minutes. And you didn't know if you were looking forward to going to the meeting or not.

But there you are, in front of the door to the small interview room. And as you enter, a little late, almost everyone is there. You can feel several eyes on you, but one is undeniable. Charles is there, sitting, his gaze completely glued to you, totally absorbed and attracted by you alone. He follows you with his eyes, completely in love, while your angelic beauty completely takes his breath away. Oh, he missed your face so much.

You move towards your chair, painfully avoiding meeting his burning gaze. But after all, it's impossible. Why would you want to avoid him, when he certainly feels the same way as you.

So, calmly, you sit down, you take your pen between your fingers, and taking a deep breath, you end up laying your eyes on him. You meet his gaze and there, time seems to stop for a moment. His eyes burn into your face, and your breath catches. But a shy smile, which ends up widening, takes its place on the driver's face. And, shyly, you smile back.

And during this meeting, you couldn't help but glance at each other a few times. And in Charles' head, everything was panicking. He wanted to hold you in his arms and never let go. He wanted to spend every next minute by your side, making you smile and laugh until you lost control. He wanted to stay for hours admiring you, listening to you speak with your sweet voice. He was finally able to live and breathe properly.

The meeting ends, you take a strangely long time to put away the few things you had brought with you. And Charles strangely seems to take care to say goodbye to each of the people who leave the room. So that in the end, you find yourself alone in the room. No one speaks, your gaze each focused on the corners of the room. And finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Charles finally approached you.

So close, that he ends up wrapping his arms around your waist, nestling his face in the crook of your neck. You practically melt in his embrace, as you return the favor, your hands gently caressing his back. “I missed you so, so much.” His voice is muffled. You giggle weakly, and just that little laugh melts Charles' heart.

"Carlos informed me that a certain person here was very eager to see me again, hmm?". Your shy nature wasn't the type to tease people, but seeing Charles like this made him absolutely adorable and you couldn't help but tease him a little. He groans, because he knows that as soon as he meets Carlos again, he will make him understand that he, on the contrary, will never look forward to seeing him again. But for now, he's just enjoying the moment.

"If it's to be able to stay in your arms like this, then yes I assume that this person is me. And now that you are here, you are certainly not going to leave me." And in an overconfidence, he pulls back just enough to place a soft, long kiss on your cheek, while his hands gently squeeze your hips. The sudden touch makes you jump slightly, and your face doesn't fail to show your embarrassment as it turns a pretty pink.

Which absolutely makes Charles laugh, totally captivated by you. But he absolutely didn't expect you to kiss him back, on his cheek already crimson from the contact of your lips on his skin. The room is suddenly filled with giggles, while the two secret lovers, or rather the two idiots in love who see their relationship blossom into something more beautiful, remain there for a while longer, in each other's arms.

And Carlos, who wanted to make his way into the room to collect his Ferrari cap, had observed everything from the doorway. A huge grin on his face, he finally rolled his eyes, amused. “Such a simp.” He whispers these words, which, without a doubt, perfectly reflect reality. Because yes, Charles is just a simp for you.

[povlnfour]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ STUDY BREAK (OP81)

pairing: oscar piastri x f!student!reader

summary: oscar piastri is a formula 1 driver. y/n is an international relations student. her friends find her relationship pretty hard to believe. especially when she can’t tell them any details for you know… nda reasons.

warnings: main characters friends can be jackasses. mentions of international relations for any of my fellow bach survivors who shiver at the mention of the course

* faceclaim: scarlett leithold (but please imagine her as you see fit!)

yourusername just posted a photo *ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by oscarpiastri, yourbsf and 276 others

yourusername summer break you were fab

view all comments

yourbsf wow you took international relations literally huh

yourusername call it research

friend1 IS THAT A PRIVATE JET? IS UR DAD RICH RICH?

friend2 girlie where are you getting all this money from i know uni debt is killing you like the rest of us

yourusername rich boyf perks😙

friend2 this ‘boyf’ who we conveniently haven’t met?🤔

oscarpiastri just posted a photo *ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by yourusername, landonorris and 193,209 others

oscarpiastri good company, good racing🤙🏻

view all comments

user luv u oscar

user YOU’LL COME BACK EVEN STRONGER KING

user you seemed so happy today :’)

user ppl are saying he had a girl w him👀

yourusername cutie

friend2 your boyfriend seeing you comment on random celebs posts…🤭

texts with oscar *ੈ✩‧₊˚

yourusername just posted a photo *ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by oscarpiastri, yourbsf and 300 others

yourusername term 1 you’ve been cute

👤 tagged yourbsf, friend1, friend2, friend3

view all comments

friend3 can’t believe ur not in lectures next week bc ur off to go watch cars go vroom vroom 🙄

yourusername gotta support my boy what do you want from me

friend3 sure jan

yourbsf first pic is HOT send it to me rn

friend1 tagged but not pictured… just like ur boyfriend

yourusername just posted stories *ੈ✩‧₊˚

oscarpiastri just posted a photo *ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by yourusername, landonorris and 194,256 others

oscarpiastri race✔️ time to explore⏳

view all comments

landonorris oscar has rizz?

user your captions say so little yet so much

user HE HAS A GIRLFRIEND????

friend1 @/yourusername ur heart must be breaking

yourusername ????

friend1 he’s got a girllllll

user lando speaks for us all HUH

your group chat *ੈ✩‧₊˚

yourusername just posted a photo *ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by yourbsf and 361 others

yourusername bit of fun before back to reality :)

view all comments

yourbsf look cute who’s your photographer

yourusername os🥰

friend3 girl is the shirt meant to prove something

friend1 i am saying nothing other than ur cute (and delusional)

texts with your best friend *ੈ✩‧₊˚

yourusername just posted a photo *ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by yourbsf, landonorris and 278 others

yourusername does it count as a date if it’s his full time job?

view all comments

friend1 girl… this may be going too far

yourusername literally what do you want from me ????

yourbsf i’m happy to be your third wheel as long as i get maid of honour duties

friend2 don’t encourAGE HER

yourbsf just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by yourusername and 410 others

yourbsf ode to my best friend and her boyfriend (ft. me) who are sickeningly adorable but cause me more stress than is worth it

view all comments

yourusername WHEN DID YOU TAKE THESE

yourbsf WHEN YOU WERE BEING ALL GROSS

yourusername also the pic of us is so cute🥹

yourbsf you weren’t kidding when you said the boy is a good photographer

your group chat ੈ✩‧₊˚

texts with oscar ੈ✩‧₊˚

yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by oscarpiastri, yourbsf and 301 others

yourusername more from summer because i miss italy and i miss being trackside

view all comments

friend3 this was a weak attempt to convince us

friend1 bby… just confess it’s okay

oscarpiastri pretty girl

liked by yourusername

friend2 oh

friend1 huh. interesting

your group chat ੈ✩‧₊˚

oscarpiastri just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by yourusername and 201,456 others

oscarpiastri graduation party or a chance to show off to her friends that i actually exist? who knows. proud of you baby🧡

👤 tagged yourusername, yourbsf, friend1, friend2, friend3

view all comments

user mr piastri i must confess my love for ur girlfriend

friend3 i humbly accept that i was wrong

yourbsf wish i could have taken a photo of their faces when you walked in lmao

user i love her already LOOK AT THAT SMILE

yourusername i lurv uuuuu

landonorris gross go back to being a secret

yourusername gonna make out w him in front of you

landonorris I SWEAR TO GOD Y/N. OSCAR CONTROL YOUR GIRLFRIEND.

oscarpiastri i’ll keep her feisty thanks

yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 3,409 others

yourusername a hot boyfriend who exists✔️ a degree✔️ a killer ass✔️

view all comments

oscarpiastri fun fact the last part is only one of my favourite things abt you

yourusername aw you’re so romantic os

oscarpiastri nothing but the best for you

friend1 i can’t believe he exists

friend2 i can’t believe oscar piastri spoke to us

yourusername said with all the love in the world, SUCK MY DICK

user i’ve only just been introduced to this friend group and i already love them

———

a/n: first oscar post EEEE

this was meant to be a lando one shot first but author is: in hospital, so i hope this is okay for now😭

taglist (found HERE): @iluvvmeeee @champagnelovers101 @alessioayla @idkiwantchocolatee @skatingiswalkingincursive @six-call @he6rtshaker @hobiismyhopeu @tallrock35 @sunflower-golden-vol6 @woozarts @minkyungseokie @vellicora @tsukishitm-a @lucyysthings

[leclercloml]

Summer boy | LN4

Pairing: Lando Norris x actress!reader

Summary: y/n l/n the popular actress mainly known for her role in the popular summer series the outer banks but she's constantly ship with her certain co-star and everyone thinks they're dating, but that's not true.... right?

Genre: SMAU

warnings: grammar mistakes i guess , kind of internet bullying?? (Don't worry y/n is a supportive gf who will not stand back)

Author's note: no hate towards any actors/actress all of these are just fictions. AND yes I'm doing this as a memorial of summer, because WINTER is coming bby!!

fc: Blanca Soler

yourinstagram

📍Charleston, South Carolina

liked by madisonbaileybabe, rudeth, drewstarkey and 58,823,649 others

yourinstagram your favourite cast are back. 🌊🍉⛱️☀️

tagged: madisonbaileybabe , rudeth , drewstarkey , hichasestokes , jonathandavissofficial , madelyncline , carlaciagrant

view comments

madelyncline so we're gonna completely gonna ignore how you dropped the beer right after taking the first picture?

⤷yourinstagram I have no idea what you're talking about

⤷drewstarkey I do.

⤷yourinstagram you were supposed to be MY bestfriend

⤷username rudy crying in a corner

⤷username he don't have to he's the boyfriend here.

⤷username can you guys stop shipping co-stars?

⤷username they're dating tho-

⤷username did they tell you that?

⤷username they don't have to, it's obvious

⤷username yeah sure.

jonathandavissofficial you guys had watermelons? Without me?

⤷yourinstagram you were nowhere to be found

⤷rudeth we looked for you, for like 3 minutes.

⤷yourinstagram we did.

⤷jonathandavissofficial DAMN you guys were looking for me for SOOO LONG

⤷username RUDY and Y/N they BOTH were looking for jd TOGETHER

⤷username GIRL- they're friends it's not much of a big deal

⤷username IT.IS.

hichasestokes rudy looking good in last slide.

⤷rudeth i always look good.

username caption is sooo real.

username my babieeesss 🫶🏻🫶🏻

⤷username they are grown ups, you grow up too.

rudeth

liked by yourinstagram, landonorris, madisonbaileybabe and 83,77,927 others

rudeth 🌊🌊

view comments

yourinstagram yayy!!

⤷username just confirm it at this point

madisonbaileybabe your annoying.

⤷yourinstagram you're.

⤷username we love a defending gf.

⤷username she just fixed her grammar tf

⤷username you won't understand.

username can we talk about how adorable rudy looks in the first pic

username he's so boyfriend coded

⤷username all thanks to our queen

username ARIANA (LANDO) WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?

⤷username omg!! I just noticed what

⤷username ahh he have definitely watched outer banks!! I mean it's a great show sooo.

⤷username the crossover I didn't know i needed

username rudyy/n 🔛��

yourinstagram

liked by madelyncline, rudeth, landonorris, and 37,91,898 others

yourinstagram as maria carey once said "boy why you so obsessed with me?" 🤍

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madelyncline who isn't

⤷madisonbaileybabe nothing but facts

⤷yourinstagram mwah mwah 🤍

username sometimes I wonder even if she's real or not

rudeth get a job.

⤷yourinstagram shut up lil bro

⤷username 😭😭 they're sooo

⤷username they're literally bullying eachother tf you on?

alexandrasaintmleux beau 🤍

⤷yourinstagram merci alex 🫶🏻

⤷username HELLO??!N WHAT THE FUCK??? WHAT?? WHEN??? HOW??? Y/n and Alex are friends???

⤷username who's alex?

⤷username f1 driver charles leclerc's girlfriend

⤷username y/n recently moved to monaco no? maybe they met there

username why is no one talking about Lando's like?

⤷username omygod finally I was looking for this

⤷username can you blame him tho? I mean look at her

carlossainz55 mariah carey.

⤷username ahhhh kanskabsjs WTFFF???!

⤷username the caption is a carlos refrence.

username she's so beautiful

landonorris

📍 Charleston, South Carolina

liked by carlossainz55, yourinstagram, rudeth and 18,20,728 others

landonorris beach boy 🤽🏻‍♂️

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username his curlsss 😭🫶🏻

username he's in charleston???

⤷username yeah the location say so.

⤷username you know who else is in charleston?

⤷username who?

⤷username y/n l/n

⤷username the actress?

⤷username no, the president. ofcourse the actress

⤷username okay...and? Isn't she dating her co-star rudy pankow?

⤷username nah people just ship them, there's no confirmation but you know what else? few months ago y/n moved to monaco and lando lives in monaco as well, I mean like half of the drivers live there but that's not the point and from past few weeks y/n and lando are liking eachothers post and alexandra (charles's girlfriend) commented on y/n post as well AND lando, charles, alexandra, alex albon, lily, george, carmen, carlos and rebecca all started following y/n and she also follows all of them back.....sooo, you get what I'm saying??

⤷username delusions!!! no no no she's with rudy!!!

⤷username are you convincing me or yourself?

⤷username guys...this comment makes a lot of sense...

⤷username nah nah nah can't accept it

carlossainz55 south carolina huh? 👀

⤷username Carlos what do you know??

yourinstagram look at those curls

⤷landonorris thanks,someone put their hand through it a lot.

⤷hichasestokes by any chance that 'someone' is really annoying?

⤷landonorris nah that someone is most adorable human alive

⤷charles_leclerc I didn't put hand through you hair? Tf?

⤷landonorris not talking about you either mate

⤷username the nial is river in egypt

⤷username lmao Charles 😭😭

username rudy better than this guy honestly

⤷username girl stfu and get the fuck out of here.

⤷username stfu there's a reason why she choose lando and not rudy 🥰

username this is sooo 😭😭

yourinstagram

liked by carlossainz55, madelyncline, landonorris and 26,828,940 others

yourinstagram name a better tour guide than me, you can't.

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madelyncline didn't both of you got lost??

⤷username this is the most y/nrudy thing.

⤷username and you know that's rudy because?

⤷username I don't think that's rudy, that guy have been on that show since s1 why would he even want a tour guide to that place lmao.

username landoooooo

⤷username nu-uh

rudeth he literally told me how you were forcing him to eat sea food even tho he hates it and when he denied you didn't talk to him until he got you like 20 ice creams.

⤷yourinstagram HE TOLD YOU??THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE BETWEEN US

⤷username hope all those delulu girls see this, it was not rudy 🥰 it was lando he hates seafood 🥰🥰

⤷username i refuse to believe this they were my number one not some random guy who drives car is gonna take em away from me 😭

⤷username you guys are so weird, just because they're celebrities that doesn't mean they're not human, both of them are grow up, rudy and y/n were nothing but friends you guys were the one who started shipping them, istg leave em alone it's their life, and stop hating on them for no reason you don't know them personally

⤷username speak louder for people at the back

username so it's confirmed? They're together.

⤷username not confirmed but I think everyone knows

username I'm happy for her

⤷username I don't like whoever this Lando guy is

⤷username don't worry, we don't care 🥰

username leave Lando alone wtf? He's a grown man!! She's a grown woman!! RUDY AND Y/N NEVER FUCKING DATED, THAT SHIP OF YOURS NEVER EXISTED IF LANDO MAKES Y/N HAPPY AND Y/N MAKES LANDO HAPPY WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM HERE???

⤷username they're just bunch of kids or groupies

username man wtf is wrong with some people

yourinstagram

liked by carlossainz55, pierregasly, landonorris and 69,82,702 others

yourinstagram my beautiful beautiful boy, I've said this to you in person but I also want some people to know too, you're the one i love and you're the one i choose I'm really sorry for the behaviour of some 'fans', you don't deserve it, but I want you to know that I'll be there for you, no matter what happens I'll be there for you when you have a tough race and I'll be there for you after some random bitch on instagram said something and I'm not good at expressing my emotions but YOU, Lando Norris, you make me the happiest person, after I have a bad day, after my favourite team losses, after I do bad on set, you're the one who cheer me up and I want you to know that no matter what happens I'll always be there for you and i love you so so so so much!! that I have looked at you in millions of ways and I've loved you in each and every single one of them, you're a bit annoying in like almost every of them but it's okay, and i promise that I'll forever love you and even after all of this i would still choose you again, again and again, I love you 🧡.

tagged ; landonorris

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landonorris this is way too much affection for me to handle, but I'll manage, i love you.

⤷yourinstagram there's no such thing as "too much affection"

landonorris baby i love you so so so so so sooo fucking much that it's actually so concerning

⤷carlossainz55 yup I can assure you on that

⤷yourinstagram tell me something that I don't know 🤭

madelyncline put those fuckers on their place!

username "I'll be there for you after some random bitch on instagram said something" nah you all fr pissed her off

⤷username calling her fans "bitch" real mature

⤷username "fans" are supposed to support their favourites and their loved ones and learn to respect their privacy, rather than bullying someone who makes them happy and basically judging their life without even knowing them personally, those people were not fans they were groupies.

username she literally said "fuck soft launch, y'all bitches needs to be put in their place"

landonorris you're so beautiful, are you single?

⤷yourinstagram no! get away from me I have super cute boyfriend.

⤷landonorris lucky bastard.

⤷yourinstagram I'm the lucky one 🤭

⤷username gonna hug a tree at 300km/h

charles_leclerc he's crying

⤷landonorris I'm not crying.

⤷pierre_gasly you are.

alexandrasaintmleux happy for you both 🫶🏻🫶🏻!!

⤷yourinstagram grazieee alex!! come over, I miss you.

⤷alexandrasaintmleux @/charles_leclerc read that? get yo car out rn!

⤷charles_leclerc we're on our way.

username "I have looked at you in millions of ways and I've loved you in each and every single one of them" AHHH!! WHEN.WILL.IT.BE.ME??!!

landonorris all mine.

⤷yourinstagram all yours.

username my favourite couple.

landonorris

liked by yourinstagram, carlossainz55, hichasestokes and 47,923,791 others

landonorris my beautiful beautiful girl, you're the best thing that have ever happened to me, you exist in my world I a way that no one else does, you're so so special to me and i admire you for what you are, for what you have been and whatever you will be, For me, you are enough, you are worthy, always have been always will be, you always say that i deserve better but i don't need someone better having you is a thousand times enough and the world may not know but the greatest love i ever had and i ever loved will always be you, i love you ❤️.

tagged; yourinstagram

yourinstagram LANDO NORRIS.

⤷landonorris yes love?

⤷yourinstagram that is so sweet I can't even explain oh my god I love you so so so sooo much!!

⤷landonorris i love you so so so soo much too!!

carlossainz55 never in my 29 years of life I've ever thought Lando No-rizz could be that poetic.

⤷landonorris there's a lot of thing you still need to see old man.

⤷username us carlos us.

yourinstagram my babyyy!!! MWAH MWAH.

⤷landonorris you type that and expecting me to not want that irl?

⤷yourinstagram I'm literally right beside you.

⤷username me and my toaster looking hella dirty, we're gonna take a bath i guess.

rudeth the only person I trust who can handle that idiot.

⤷landonorris i got it buddy!

⤷yourinstagram shut up!

madelyncline keep my wife happy 😭

⤷yourinstagram noo!! I'm always yours.

⤷landonorris um excuse me what the actual fuck?

username adorable ahh mfs.

yourinstagram lando norris i love you.

⤷landonorris y/n l/n i love you too.

username and they lived happily ever after.

PS: I hope you all like it, and I don't have much to say, thank you for reading, have a great day ahead!

[joelscurls]

feel it in your bones

next part

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

words: 12.5k

summary: Two years ago, you finished your PhD and moved to Vermont. In the time since, you’ve gotten a job as a college professor, had your heart broken, and sworn off relationships entirely. Enter Joel, the father of one of your students, here for Homecoming Weekend – and too attractive to resist.

warnings: 18+, minors dni, no outbreak, age gap (reader is in her late 20s, Joel is in his late 40s), alcohol consumption, fluff, smut, masturbation (f), mutual pining(?), sexual tension, grinding, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v, creampie, cumplay / cum eating, some light biting, use of pet names (darlin’, sweetheart, baby, etc.), reader has an asshole ex, no use of y/n

a/n: my first Joel fic! This is honestly a bit self-indulgent but I love fall and academia and Joel Miller so sue me okay. ty to my bby @caffeinated-validation for reading through this and offering your insight -- get you a partner who will beta your filthy Joel Miller smut for you lmao <3

You’ve gotten used to being alone. 

You don’t mind it as much as you had a few months ago, the breakup still fresh, every touch of your own fingers seering into your skin when you’d remembered the way he’d touched you, the sound of your voice almost unrecognizable as you’d convince yourself each day to get out of bed and go to work, where you’d inevitably run into him. It was painful then, having to come home to the quiet, always far too aware of the sound of your own thoughts drumming against the inside of your skull. 

Now though, you revel in that quiet. Sip your coffee in silence each morning. You’ve learned how to stay lost in your work, bringing home stacks of papers to grade and eating through texts to support your research while your dinner gets cold on the table in front of you. You’re well aware that this isn’t the healthiest way to cope, to just avoid it all, but it’s better than feeling. 

You’ve sworn off relationships entirely. It’s a silent promise to yourself – that you’ll remain married to your work. You will devote all of your energy to making sure your students excel and that your research is strong. That is your life’s purpose, to make use of the PhD you worked so hard to get – not to be someone’s girlfriend or wife. And you’re fine with that, really. You’ve become immune to loneliness – or numb, maybe.

Regardless, you welcome the independence. You don’t have to worry about anyone else’s thoughts or feelings when it comes to the way you spend your own time. You’re free to do whatever you want. You can draw yourself a bath, fill it with bubbles, sit in it while you drain a bottle of wine into your mouth until the water runs cold. You can eat an entire box of dry cereal in one sitting while you re-watch your favorite show for the twentieth time. You can make yourself cum at any hour of the night with your vibrator or your shower head or your hand – and then go to work the next morning without a semblance of guilt.

Really, you like being alone. 

Until you don’t.

It’s Homecoming Weekend at Sarah’s school. 

She had insisted that Joel didn’t have to come, that it was mostly an opportunity for the college to milk donations out of sentimental alumni. But he’d missed her for the month she’d been gone, the house far too quiet with just him in it. In previous years, Joel had busied himself following Sarah’s departure with home projects. Three years in, though, he’s updated just about every room in the house,  re-done the floors, built a brand new back deck. 

In other words, he’s fresh out of distractions.

So, he’d made the trek to Vermont,  with the excuse that he’d always wanted to experience a New England fall. It’s a lie, one that Sarah can probably read right through, considering he vocalizes his discomfort whenever the temperature drops below 70 degrees in Texas, but she goes along with it. 

Besides, he wants to see what his tuition money is paying for.

In truth, Joel had been nervous when Sarah announced what major she’d decided to pursue. She had just finished her freshman year, prerequisite courses all completed. When she’d said the word – anthropology – Joel hadn’t even been sure what it meant. Since then, she’s explained it to him many times and in truth, he’s still none the wiser. Really, he’s just happy that she’s happy. Her passion for it is evident on her face any time she talks to him about the courses she’s taking, how great her professors are. 

Especially you – she talks about you all the time – her mentor. 

You’re supervising her on her thesis project – a qualitative assessment on students’ views on feminism and gender politics in the classroom. This past summer, Joel swears Sarah had mentioned your name more than her own friends’. She’d told him what courses you teach, what research you’ve conducted, all the countries you’ve traveled to for fieldwork. And she gives the best advice – Sarah had said one night over dinner – she’s like, my lifeline at school. 

Joel doesn’t know you, but he’s thankful for you – for the guidance you so clearly provide Sarah.

There’s an Open House today for the Social Sciences college, which Joel tags along with Sarah to. He’s hopeful that he’ll learn something, come to understand the field and why Sarah loves it. 

A buffet table stocked with refreshments sits on one side of the lecture hall. Sarah grabs them both cups of water infused with cucumber while Joel saves them seats at the back. There’s a slideshow projected onto the white board at the front, the current slide reading: An Introduction to the Social Sciences College & Our Current Research Efforts. A group of professors gathers at the front, name tags stuck to their button-downs and blazers. Sarah spots you as she sits down, pointing you out as she hands Joel his water.

“There – that one’s my mentor – the one in the plaid pants.” 

Joel’s eyes follow her finger to the group at the front,  scanning down the line. There’s a man, short and stocky with noticeably small hands hooked by the thumbs in the belt loops of his pants. Next to him, is a woman, taller than him, wearing a bright turquoise silk shirt, gold bangles decorating both of her wrists. And next to her is you, in the plaid pants.

Sarah had told him a lot of things about you, but she’d never mentioned that you’re fucking gorgeous. You’re smiling at something Turquoise Shirt has just said to you, and it’s like your entire face is glowing. Joel has to take a sip of water to collect himself.

He doesn’t take his eyes off you for the entirety of the presentation. 

The dean of the college starts by briefly covering each department and what research efforts they have planned for the semester. Joel should be listening, he came here to listen – but he can’t get himself to focus on anything other than you.

You’re mostly focused on the presenter. Every so often, though, you distractedly toy with the buttons on your cardigan or twirl a strand of your hair between delicate fingers. And Joel is suddenly realizing how touch-starved he is after years of refusing to date – because just watching you, your hands – is about to send him into orbit.

You’re well-spoken too, he learns, when you take the microphone to discuss your current research project. 

“This semester, I’ll be delving into the presence of food deserts in Vermont, and the effects these are having on the overall health of youth in the state,” you say. “We have received a sizable grant for this research, and I am thrilled to get started in a matter of weeks. This project will span the better part of the academic year as I speak to locals and craft surveys that will provide qualitative data to support my findings from the field.”

You press down on the clicker in your hand. A new slide projects onto the whiteboard. It’s a photo of you against the backdrop of a jungle, lush, green trees stretching past the top of the frame. The wide-brimmed hat you’re wearing covers most of your face – but that damn smile radiates through the makeshift screen.

“This is me last summer, in Peru. My research here was much more self-indulgent – I studied the important role that food plays in the average family there – and ate wayyyy too many sweets.”

The crowd laughs. It’s the first reaction they’ve expressed this entire time. 

It’s entrancing, the way you command the room. You have such a calm confidence about you as you speak, words never once faltering as you stride back and forth across the front of the lecture hall.  Joel isn’t much of a talker – maybe that’s why he feels like he could listen to you for hours on end. He thinks that you could read the damn phone book and his focus would remain unwavering. That your voice, velvet-soft, could spellbind him without much effort.

When your portion of the presentation ends, he’s more than a bit disappointed.

Students and their families filter out of the lecture hall. You situate yourself in a corner of the room for the actual Open House portion of the event, at the ready to answer any questions or, more likely, offer directions to another part of campus.

You smile as familiar faces and strangers alike pass you, reach for your to-go mug on the table behind you, and take a sip. The coffee is pretty much ice-cold now, but you still gulp it down, only after the caffeine anyway.

You place the mug back down with a light thud against the tabletop. Suddenly, a voice you’ve come to know well rings in your ear. 

“Professor!” 

When you look up, Sarah Miller is bounding down the aisle, signature smile plastered across her face. And there’s a man behind her, you notice, moving much slower. 

He’s tall, broad shoulders pulling taut against the green flannel he’s wearing. He cradles a beige workwear jacket in the crook of his bicep,corded muscle visibly bulging against fabric. His other hand rubs at the scruff along his jaw, pointedly sharp in the patches where hair doesn’t grow.

He has a distinguishable nose, you notice as he gets closer,  strong – large and hooked at the center of his tan face. It’s complemented perfectly by his plush, pink lips that seem to be set in a permanent pout.  

In other words, he’s handsome – almost distractingly so, as he stands next to Sarah in front of you.

“I’m so happy to see you,” she beams – turns to the man next to her.

“Dad, this is my mentor,” She says your name. 

He nods. His eyes meet yours. They’re deep brown, almost black – and undeniably entrancing. 

“‘‘ts nice to meet you, Ma’am. I’m Joel.”

Ma’am.

It’s not like the word is foreign to you, given your profession. There’s something about the way he says it, though, that makes your head spin, his southern drawl dripping in honey-butter and bourbon. 

Joel outstretches a hand. You shake it – try to ignore the way it dwarfs yours.

“Joel,” you repeat, eyes locked firmly on the space between his eyes. “Nice to meet you, too.”

“That was a great presentation you gave up there. You’re a good, uh – talker.” His expression is unreadable. His hands fidget at his sides.

You offer him a smile. “Thank you – I think? My students probably wish I would shut up sometimes. Right, Sarah?”

“Oh please,” she scoffs, “as if you’ve never seen your rating on Rate My Professor.” 

She’s not wrong – you pride yourself on having pretty stellar reviews – but you also try your hardest not to let them get to your head. Sarah isn’t helping that, right now.

“Anyways,” she exaggerates the word, “what are you up to tonight, Professor? They’re holding an exhibition at the art center later, all student work – d’you wanna come with us?” 

Your reflex is to say no. After all, he’ll probably be there. Your ex, Quentin, works in the art history department. And even though you’re over him, you’re not exactly looking for an excuse to be in the same room as him. But you technically don’t have plans tonight, and you can’t even think of a good lie right now with Sarah staring you down. 

And then there’s Joel, standing in front of you, all broad shoulders and chiseled jaw – and you think, what a great opportunity to get to know him, you know, as the parent of your student. Definitely not as anything else, anything more. It is Homecoming, after all.

So, you say yes. 

“Cool!” Sarah smiles, “Meet you there at 7?”

You nod, tell Sarah that sounds perfect, and that you’ll see them tonight. 

Sarah starts toward the door. But Joel stands there for a moment longer. His eyes linger on yours, his wordless stare threatening to burn a hole in your head. You can feel the heat of it, beads of sweat beginning to form at the base of your neck. You tug at the collar of your shirt, trying your hardest to conceal them. 

A beat passes. It looks like he might say something, his mouth opening then closing again.

He gives you a courteous nod, turns on his heels, and follows after Sarah.

Joel hadn’t remembered the food being this bad when he’d visited for orientation. He struggles to keep down a particularly rubbery bite of chicken and reaches for his water bottle, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he focuses on not vomiting. 

Sarah laughs next to him. “Hey man, at least you don’t have to eat this shit year-round.”

He grunts in agreement. “Gonna cancel your meal plan next semester and jus’ give you the money to buy groceries.” 

She hums. Cocks her head. “That means I’m gonna have to learn how to cook – do you think Student Housing has fire insurance?”

Joel wants to roll his eyes, but it’s definitely his fault – after all, he can barely fry an egg without setting off the fire alarm. Their freezer has always been well-stocked with TV dinners and tater tots. So instead, he just shrugs. 

“So what’s this art thing tonight?” He moves on to the salad on his plate, decidedly much safer. 

“I don’t really know – my roommate asked me to go, she has some pieces in it, I guess.”

He nods. “And your professor – that was nice ‘a you to invite her.”

Sarah nods, smiles. “Yeah – you like her, right? I mean, you’re sure you’re cool with me asking her to come?” She asks, a mouthful of lettuce.

“‘Course,” he says, attempting to keep his voice level, nonchalant.

“I know you’re not really one for meeting new people,” she teases.

He mock-glares at her. It quickly softens into a smile. “Nah – she seems cool.” It’s an understatement, but Sarah doesn’t need to know that.

She doesn’t need to know that her dad is attracted to her professor.

Joel thinks that he might not have been so great at hiding it, though, when a few hours later, in the middle of watching an unarguably bad student production of Macbeth, Sarah turns to him and whispers that she’s not feeling well. 

“Hm, is that right?,” he whispers back, unconvinced. 

“Yeah, must’ve been the food.”

“We ate the same thing, Sarah.”

There’s a shout on stage. The actor’s voice cracks.

“Well I dunno,” she continues, “My stomach just doesn’t feel good.”

“Yeah, and what about that thing with your professor?”

He can see her smirk even in the dim lighting. 

“Shit, you’re right. And I don’t have her phone number, so it’s not like I can text her...” 

She groans. Joel thinks she should be on that stage right now. 

“We can’t just ghost her.” Joel has no idea what that means. He doesn’t bother asking. 

“Sarah-” he starts.

“Please. She’s such a nice lady, she doesn’t deserve to be stood up.”

He could say no. It’s not like he knows you, owes you anything. But in truth, Joel does want to see you again. And he’s well aware that Sarah might be trying to set the two of you up – ever-perceptive and hell-bent on her dad being happy – but he tries not to think about how embarrassing that feels, his daughter playing matchmaker for him. Because he wants to spend more time with you, get to know more about you, if you’ll let him.

He’s barred himself from forming any kind of real relationship with a woman since Sarah’s mother left. Not because she’d broken his heart, but because he’d needed all of his energy to go to Sarah. As a single father, he had always feared that he wouldn’t be enough for his daughter – wouldn’t give enough – that growing up in a broken home would leave her half of a person. That fear had fueled him to be the best dad possible – to work overtime so that he could provide for them, to never miss one of her soccer games or dance recitals. And so, he had never even considered dating, not seriously, anyway. It would take attention away from Sarah, and he couldn’t risk that. 

He’s found it difficult to shake this principle, now that Sarah has grown up. He often grapples with the fact that Sarah doesn’t need him as much anymore – that she’s her own person living her own life. He knows he could date now, could meet someone new, open his heart to them. But he’s so used to fighting that human need for companionship, that it feels almost unnatural to let his guard down.

But now there’s you – your megawatt smile and your impressive intelligence and your care for his daughter – and suddenly he’s forgotten his own rules. 

“Okay; I’ll go.” It comes out entirely too enthusiastic.

He can practically feel Sarah’s accomplished, shit-eating grin burning into the side of his head.

You leave campus around four pm, once the last of the Open House participants have gone. 

You take a shower when you get home. Then you order sushi – stuff rolls of yellowfin and salmon into your mouth as you sit at the dining table still wrapped up in your towel, trying your best not to spill soy sauce on the half-graded essays that litter the tabletop. When you’re done, you retreat to your closet, treading on damp feet across the waxy hardwood floor.

And you definitely don’t think about Joel – not when you debate what to wear to the art exhibition, not when your fingers accidentally graze one of your nipples as you put your bra on, not when you get distracted while pulling your panties on by the pool of wetness that has formed between your thighs. 

You definitely don’t think about him – because he’s Sarah’s dad, and that would be wrong.

So it’s accidental when his name falls from your mouth, fingers pressed against your clit, visions of large, calloused hands flashing behind your closed eyelids. 

You cover your mouth with the curve of your palm to prevent it from slipping out again. Sink back into the mattress.

Then you press your fingers down harder. 

Joel feels like a first-year student, wandering aimlessly across campus in search of the art center. Sarah’s directions had been, well, brief. She’d insisted he’d be able to find it no problem. Now though, in the limited light of dusk, all the structures look the same, bleeding together like watercolors against the evening sky. 

He does find it, eventually, a three-story brick building tucked between the library and what looks to be a dormitory. Bright, artificial light seeps through the windows that line the bottom floor. The double doors at the front are propped open, people slipping in and out of them as he approaches. 

He looks for you outside, searching for a familiar head of hair, the brown cardigan you’d been wearing earlier. When he doesn’t see you, he reluctantly makes his way up the stairs and into the building.

He spots you almost immediately affixed in front of a painting, studying it intently.

You’re wearing a different outfit than the one you had on this afternoon – a merlot-colored slip dress and a cropped leather jacket. He struggles to ignore the way the satin clings to you, the curves of your body excruciatingly accentuated. He has to remind himself that he shouldn’t get his hopes up, shouldn't expect you to stick around for long once he lets you know Sarah isn’t coming. You’ll probably make an excuse to leave shortly after, and he’ll be back on Sarah’s couch within the hour. 

After all, why would you stick around just to talk to him?

You don’t see him when he sidles up next to you. He clears his throat and you startle. 

“Sorry,” he brings a hand to the back of his neck. “Didn’t mean to spook ya.” 

You take a step back to face him and put a hand to your chest, your breath beginning to even. His eyes wander, for a moment, to where your fingers rest against your collarbone. 

“Shit – it’s okay. Where’s Sarah?”

“She wasn’t feeling well, but she said I should still come. Is that – uh – is that okay?” He’s suddenly worried that this was dumb, that he shouldn’t have come, should’ve just let Sarah explain to you on Monday.

But your features soften then, a small smile forming between rosy cheeks. 

“Joel, it’s fine; I appreciate you not ditching me.”

“‘Course,” he manages. He’s waiting for you to say something else – that you need to leave. But you don’t, and you both stand enveloped in the pregnant pause that lingers, bright overhead lighting and nerves giving Joel the start of a migraine he’ll have to ignore for the rest of the night.

He clears his throat. Turns to the painting in front of you. “So what’s this one, then?”

The painting in question is a mish-mash of shapes and colors. Joel can’t distinguish any one thing on the canvas. It’s all just a lot of…nothing. He knows it’s not for him when he thinks a preschooler with finger paints could’ve done this.

You bring your hand up to cradle your jaw, brows furrowed in contemplation. It looks like you’ll offer an actual, intellectual interpretation. So Joel isn’t prepared when instead, you say: 

“Looks like a bad trip.”

A laugh bubbles out of him, the corners of his eyes creasing. 

“Sorry,” you say, between giggles. “That was stupid.”

“No,” he says, swiping a hand over his jaw, trying to physically rub the embarrassing smile off his face. “You’re funny.” 

He means it. He’s not sure how it’s possible that you’re funny, when you’re also so smart and interesting and gorgeous. It’s almost unfair. He thinks, fleetingly, that you’re way out of his league – a boring, old man like him.

You continue to the next piece, Joel following closely behind. It looks like it must be by the same artist. The same variation of shapes fill the canvas, just in different colors.

“Alright Cowboy, what’s your take on this one?” 

Joel studies it for a moment – tries to find something he can pull out. Something tangible. Something funny, even. 

He comes up empty.

“‘ts interesting f’sure. Lots of…colors,” he tries. He realizes how ridiculous he sounds. Laughs. “Shit…art ain’t really my thing,” he admits, arm stretched behind his head.

“So what is your thing?” Your voice is tinged with something – Joel tries his hardest not to let himself believe that it’s flirtation. 

Your eyes are still fixed on the canvas in front of you. And Joel is thankful, because he thinks if you looked at him, let those eyes meet his, he’d break – tell you that right now, you’re his thing.

He doesn’t get a chance to answer either way, though, because he’s interrupted by a man’s voice behind the two of you. 

“Wow. Didn’t expect to see you here!”

You whip around to face him. Joel turns too. The man is taller than you, but shorter than him. He’s wearing round, wire-frame glasses that sit like a suggestion on his nose, and a full suit, with a tie that has some god-awful, ugly pattern all over it. It looks like the art here, Joel thinks.

Joel’s eyes flit back to you, and he watches as your hackles go up. You back up, bumping into the canvas behind you. You curse under your breath.

“Quentin. Hey.”

“Glad you could make it,” the man, Quentin, says. He swirls a cup of what appears to be red wine in one hand. He leans in closer, brings the other hand up at the side of his mouth to conceal his words. “I know this isn’t really your scene.” 

You shift uncomfortably. “Yeah,” you say. “I’m uh, venturing out, I guess. Trying new things.” 

He laughs. It’s an asshole laugh, Joel notes. Everything about this guy screams asshole. 

“About time!” The asshole puts a hand on your shoulder. You flinch. Joel’s hands instinctively bunch into fists at his side. 

“So proud of you,” Quentin says. “Finally letting yourself be a little cultured.”

This guy can’t be serious.

You scoff. Grab his hand and flick it off your shoulder. He looks wounded. Good, Joel thinks. 

“Yeah, because traveling the world has left me so very uncultured, Quentin.”

“Hey,” he puts his hands up. “Don’t take offense, baby. I know your little field trips are important, too.”

It’s the last straw.

In one movement, you’re pushing off the wall, shoving past Quentin, and making your way to the exit. Joel doesn’t say a word, doesn’t even look at the asshole, just follows after you out the door. 

It’s gotten colder in the short time he’d been inside, he notices. A gust of wind nips at the exposed skin on his hands. He stuffs them haphazardly in the pockets of his jacket.

He finds you perched on the front steps, arms wrapped around your body protectively. He takes a few cautious strides forward. When you look up at him, you’re visibly distraught. 

You groan as he sits down next to you. “Sorry. That was embarrassing.” 

Joel wants to touch you, put a reassuring hand on your shoulder, but he knows he probably shouldn’t – not right now. 

“‘ts not embarrassin’,” he says, instead. His warm breath materializes in the cold air. “Not for you, anyway. That guy was clearly an asshole.”

“Yeah,” you nod. “That was my ex-boyfriend.” You’re  both quiet, then. The two of you sit there, side by side on the stairs, in comfortable silence. A few minutes pass. Joel notices you chewing on your bottom lip, like you’re considering something. When you speak again, your voice wavers.

“Would you want to go for a drink or something? It’s just, I really don’t want to be here anymore.” 

For a moment, he can’t believe what he’s hearing – you’re asking him out? He takes a second to respond. You start to backtrack. “It’s okay if you don’t wan-”

“Hey,” he stops you. Makes sure you’re looking at him. 

“I thought you’d never ask, darlin’.”

You breathe out a laugh. “Great.” Your hand drops to your side, brushing against his. He expects you to move it. He’s thankful when you don’t.

“I know a place–” you continue – “one that won’t be full of drunk college kids.”

“Great,” Joel parrots you. He stands, extends a hand to help you up. You take it, letting your palm rest against his for a moment longer than necessary when you’re upright.

“Cool,” you say, clearing your throat. You pull up the Uber app on your phone. Joel watches you book a driver. Then you turn back to him with a smile. It’s different from the one he’s seen before. It’s smaller, shyer.

“Larry will be here in 4 minutes,” you say.

The bar is a twenty minutes’ drive from campus – fifteen with Larry’s lead foot.

It’s more of a lounge than a bar, really – leather armchairs accompanied by low cocktail tables arranged throughout the single large, open room. A brick fireplace sits on the back wall, currently roaring with warm orange flames. 

On either side of the fireplace are floor-to-ceiling shelves stacked with vintage books, their illegible titles etched in gold along weathered spines. You can imagine that their pages are yellowed and dusty, and it’s so tempting to swipe one off the shelf to see, to smell.

The light in here is warm, a stark contrast from the bright white of the art gallery. It’s comforting, and you feel your body immediately relax when you walk through the entrance next to Joel.

The bar at the front is busy (it is Saturday night, after all), so you and Joel stand at the back of the crowd for a few moments, waiting for the people in front of you to get their drinks. When a group of men start forcing their way through right next to you, Joel immediately puts a large hand on your shoulder, turning your body towards his. He’s just being chivalrous, making sure you don’t get shoved, but it still sends a shockwave up your spine.

When a spot clears in front of the bar, Joel steps forward, bringing you with him. He orders a whiskey neat, then turns to you, asking what you want. 

It’s difficult to think with his hand still on you, so you go with the first words that come to mind. 

“Same as you.”

He stares at you for a moment, amused, like he can see right through you and the fact that you’ve never had whiskey in your life. But you hold his gaze, challenging him with your eyes, and he drops it. “Make that two,” he tells the bartender.

Once you have your drinks, Joel slaps a few bills down on the bar. You can tell he won’t let you do so much as offer to pay him back, so you don’t. You lead him through the lounge to a couple of chairs tucked away in the back corner, partially hidden behind an antique wooden partition – far enough from the main seating area, but still close enough to the fireplace that you can feel its warmth.

This is where you always sit when you come, usually with coworkers, once or twice with him. Quentin had been pretty critical of this place, like he is with everything. He’d complained that the wine selection could be larger – that they could have more French options. When you’d explained that most of their wines come from local vineyards, he’d just rolled his eyes.

You’re still reeling a bit from your interaction with him at the gallery, even as you settle into soft leather and feel a burst of warmth against your cheek. He was such an asshole, you think, taking a cautious sip of whiskey. You’re immediately repulsed by the taste of it, and you do a poor job of hiding the grimace that automatically spreads across your face in the crook of your arm.

Joe laughs across from you. “Not your thing? I can go grab ya somethin’ else,” he offers.  

“No,” you insist, “this is fine. Just need to get used to it.” It’s a lie – you both know it – but he doesn’t push it. 

Instead he leans back, swirls his own glass – which looks comically tiny in his grip – and lets out an exaggerated sigh. 

“So, your ex is a real dick, huh?”

“You can say that again,” you mumble. 

He quirks a brow at you. “Why’d you even date him?” 

It’s a fair question. Why had you dated him? Loneliness, maybe? You’d like to blame it on that, but it’s not the truth – not entirely. Quentin had been kind, at first. He had seemed so interested in you and where you came from and what you were passionate about. He was a relatively good boyfriend, all things considered – until he’d grown tired of hiding who he really was.

You’d gotten a substantial pay raise at the end of your second year at the university. When you’d told Quentin, he’d gone quiet – practically gave you the silent treatment for days on end. When you’d finally worn him down, gotten him to talk, the most he could utter was that he was happy for you; he just wasn’t sure why he hadn’t gotten a raise like that yet. 

It’s not like you were in competition – you worked for two entirely different departments, in different colleges. But it had been a constant losing battle nevertheless, to get him to stop comparing your successes. And when he’d found out you actually made more money than him – that had pretty much been the nail in the coffin. 

You tell Joel all of this. You’re not sure why you do – it’s not like you can blame the alcohol after one half-sip of whiskey. You feel comfortable with him though, here, like this. He’s a good listener, too, attentively nodding every so often as you ramble. 

When you’re done, he’s quiet. He stares at his drink, pursing his lips. 

After a beat, he looks up at you. 

“You deserve better than that, darlin’.”

You almost crumble under his gaze. His eyes are at least two shades darker than they had been a moment ago – and there’s something lingering behind them that you can’t quite place. Whatever it is has you feeling weak.

“You barely know me,” you joke. 

“Yeah,” he agrees. “I know enough, though. Could do much better than him, I reckon.”

You want to ask him if he has anyone in mind, if he would be better for you, but you can’t – not yet – not this sober. You take another sip of your drink, breathing through your nose as it burns its way down your throat. 

You talk for hours. He asks about your family; you tell him how you moved out here two years ago on your own after you finished your doctorate program. He’s impressed by that, says you’re brave. You tell him you’ve never felt very brave. 

It’s all so easy, talking to Joel in the dimly-lit bar you’ve been to so many times before. Sipping on whiskey as if you actually enjoy it. It’s never felt so much like home — not the bar, not this town. The thought is dizzying.

He asks about Sarah, too, how she’s doing in school. He insists that she doesn’t tell him much, and if she does, it’s about you and how great your classes are. 

“I had never even heard of anthropology before she decided to study it,” he admits. “But I’m glad she did. It’s her thing, f’sure.” 

You smile, knowingly. “Yeah, it is. She’s a great kid, Joel. You raised her well.”

He shakes his head humbly, but you don’t relent. You want him to hear this, really hear this. Because you get the feeling he hasn’t been told enough. 

“She’s not just smart, Joel. She’s good. She’s a good person. That’s kind of rare nowadays — especially among her generation.” 

Joel chuckles, his head hanging between his shoulders. 

“I mean, shit,” you continue, “she brings me pancakes from the diner just off campus whenever she knows I’m stuck in my office working late. My other students barely even ask how I’m doing most days.”

Joel hums in amusement. His eyes are locked on a wrinkle in the leather of the arm of his chair.

“Joel,” you say, pointedly. You wait for him to look at you. When he does, his gaze is uncertain. “She’s a good person —“ you repeat — “and that’s because you raised her to be.”

“‘ts just southern hospitality, is all,” he mumbles. 

“No Joel – it’s you.”

He stares for a moment, his dark eyes narrowing. His jaw twitches. And then he breaks, finally, a smile pulling at his lips. 

“Thank you.”

His voice is so soft suddenly. It throws you off. It also turns you on – like, a lot, the gravellyness of it scratching your brain and your loins. You dig your nails into leather in an attempt to steady your quickening heart rate.

“No problem,” you mutter sheepishly.

Suddenly, there’s a buzz on the table – Joel’s phone. He picks it up, squinting at the bright screen.

“Sarah?,” you ask.

“Nah, ‘ts just my brother, Tommy.”

He types out a quick response and re-locks the phone, placing it back down on the table.

“Everything alright?” 

“Yeah, jus’ asking if I think hookin’ up with a client is a bad idea,” he laughs, shaking his head in disbelief.

You don’t know Tommy, but you like him already – seems like a fun guy. And clearly values his brother’s opinions. It’s telling, you think.

“That’s right – you’re a contractor. You and your brother work together?”

“Yeah, we got our own business back home.”

“And you like it?,” you ask. 

“Used to,” he laughs, “when I was more limber.”

You laugh too. You can feel the heat of slight intoxication, and something else, in your chest, your inhibitions dissolving in your bloodstream. And suddenly that horrible idea you’d had earlier to flirt with Joel doesn’t seem so bad anymore. 

“Still look plenty limber to me, Mr. Miller.” The words leave you before you have the chance to stop them.

Joel’s hands tense on either arm of his chair. Despite your buzz, you still have half a mind to worry that you’ve fucked up, that there’s a chance you’ve misread this whole thing.

But then he sinks back in the chair, the leather groaning under him. He rakes his dark eyes over you. And the way he’s looking at you is unmistakable. He looks hungry. You feel like your entire body has been set ablaze. 

Without thinking, you stand up, take a couple of steps toward him. Scan the lounge. Most of the remaining patrons are huddled by the bar, talking boisterously among themselves. Tucked in your little corner, the two of you might as well be in a different zip code.

“Whatcha doin’, darlin’?” Joel smirks up at you as you stand unmoving in front of him. He takes one of your hands in his and traces gentle, reassuring shapes along the back of it with his index finger.

Without a word, you hike your dress up to your thighs and straddle him, knees digging into the leather on either side of his legs. He hums approvingly as you sink onto his lap and cup his face in your hands. He places his own on your lower back, just above your ass. “This okay?,” you ask. It comes out breathy and wrecked.

“C’mere,” he says in that syrupy drawl, and then one of his hands is on the back of your head, pushing you gently against him, your lips slotting to his. 

It’s messy and all-encompassing. He kisses you with a fervency that confirms this hasn’t all been in your head –that he’s been wanting this too. 

The voices of bar-goers and the clinking of glassware are suddenly muted. All you can focus on is Joel — the way he tastes like whiskey and cinnamon gum, the way one of his large hands comes to rest at the nape of your neck, fingers tangled in the hair there while the other remains on your back, steadying you. The way he licks into your mouth after a few seconds with a groan, causing you to reflexively bare down on his lap.

You feel his cock swell underneath you and you grind against it, laughing low and quiet against his lips when his entire body tenses. He pulls back, blinking up at you with glazed-over eyes. Joel, all six feet of him, looks wrecked.

“Fuck, darlin’,” he pants. He looks down at where you’re hovering over his now fully-hard cock. “Gotta stop. Otherwise you’re gonna make me cum in my pants like a damn teenager.”

You pout at him, lifting your lower half off of his. You don’t stand up, though – not immediately, anyway. Instead, you take his head back in both of your hands. He lets you, blinking up at you wordlessly. 

You’d known when you’d first seen him earlier today that he was handsome, but right now, his face so close to yours – you’re seeing all of the little details – the scar indented in his forehead, just above his right eyebrow; the flush that stains his cheeks, which you can guess is partly from the alcohol, but maybe also from you. He’s biblically gorgeous, which makes it difficult to pry yourself off of him.

You do though, after a minute, smoothing down your dress once you’re back on two feet. You feel a bit breathless, suddenly. And exhausted.

What time is it? 

You retrieve your phone from where it’s been lodged in the cushion of your chair. 

You tap on the screen, waking it up. 

12:47?! When had it gotten so late?

Joel stands, adjusting himself in his pants. You can’t help but giggle at him — big, tough man looking positively ruined after just a few minutes of being under you. You feel pretty accomplished. He rolls his eyes at you. 

“Shut up — just get us an Uber.” You don’t miss the smile that sprouts between his cheeks when he thinks you aren’t looking.

You wait outside for your driver — John M.

The cold Vermont air is sobering. You feel almost normal by the time the car pulls up, save for the dull, throbbing ache between your legs. You will it away as you crouch into the back of the silver Nissan behind Joel. The sound of the radio playing soft rock hits is a poor distraction on the drive home.

“Wanna come in?,” you ask Joel when the car comes to a halt in front of your building. You watch him ponder it, eyes glued to the roof of the sedan. But ultimately, he shakes his head. “Can’t,” he says. “Gotta check on Sarah.”

You nod, try to hide your disappointment. “Right.” 

You open the door. Just as you’re about to get out, Joel stops you. 

“Wait,” he says. “Can I see your phone?” You’re confused, but you hand it over. You watch as he pulls up your contacts and clicks the ‘plus’ button in the corner, an understanding smile pulling at your lips. 

When he hands the phone back, his contact now in it, you grab his from off the seat next to him and do the same. 

“I’ll text you,” he promises as you step out. 

You turn back to him. “You better.”

He’s smiling when you shut the door.

You’re smiling when the car pulls away. 

It’s only when you’re tucked into bed, phone charging securely on the nightstand that the thought crosses your mind: you’re catching feelings for someone again. 

And then you feel sick.

Joel wakes up the next morning feeling giddy. It’s like he’s a teenager all over again – waiting by the phone for a pretty girl to call him back. Only this time, he’s waiting for a text.

He had messaged you almost as soon as he’d gotten back to Sarah’s apartment last night, asking if he could see you again before he goes back to Texas. He has no shame about it, he can’t – not when his entire mind and body are consumed by his overwhelming attraction to you. 

He’d found it difficult to sleep last night, and not because the springs in Sarah’s cheap couch were digging into his already-damaged back. It was thoughts of you, and the borderline-painful erection they caused, that had kept him up.

Now, with the sun seeping through the living room windows directly into his eyes, he doesn’t have much of a choice but to be awake. He checks his phone immediately, and tries to ignore the way his heart sinks when he sees you haven’t responded yet. You’re probably still asleep, he tells himself.

He tosses his phone aimlessly back onto the couch and stands with a groan. His legs feel worse than his back, if that’s even possible. 

Sarah still isn’t awake, so Joel meanders into her kitchen, in search of something to eat for breakfast. It’s pretty much what you would expect from a college student’s kitchen – bare bones. There are a few suspicious containers of leftovers in the fridge along with a Brita water pitcher and a package of cookie dough. In the freezer, several cartons of ice cream (all chocolate) and half a loaf of bread. And finally, in the cabinets, a few boxes of mac & cheese and an unopened jar of peanut butter. 

Toast it is, then.

Sarah appears just as he’s raiding her drawers for a butter knife. “Morning,” she announces sleepily behind him. 

“Hey, Kiddo,” he says, turning to face her. “Hungry?”

“Yeah. There’s a diner down the street. Thought we could get pancakes.” She yawns.

Joel grins. That must be the place you’d told him about – the one Sarah brings you leftovers from when you’re working late. 

“You buyin’?,” he jokes. 

“Only in exchange for the juicy deets from last night.” She pauses. “Okay, maybe not all the deets. There’s some things I don’t need to know – like why you got home so late.” 

“Sarah,” Joel warns, but she’s undeterred, smiling like a Cheshire Cat with every one of her unbrushed teeth on display.

“Just get changed,” she says, and skips out of the room.

You’ve been staring at the text for twenty minutes now.

Had a lot of fun tonight. Can I see you again before I leave? Let me know if you’re free tomorrow (today I guess). - Joel

You should say yes – you want to say yes – so why can’t you get your fingers to move? 

It’s a stupid question. You know why – it’s Quentin and your inability to shake the fear that someone  else will hurt you like he did. If you keep Joel at arm’s length – continue to ignore his message – he can’t do that. You can just take last night for what it was – a fun time, a hookup – and stop this before it goes too far, before feelings get involved.

Because it never ends well, once they do.

You get out of bed without responding, but you leave the text open on your phone. You attempt to busy yourself with housework and grading. Again and again though, you find your fingers hovering over the screen, your mind wandering to the way Joel’s lips had felt on yours, the way the bulge in his jeans had felt against your clothed heat, the sound of his southern drawl when he’d called you darlin’. 

Then you snap yourself out of it and place the phone face-down on the table.

This goes on for hours, a vicious cycle. You feel your resolve slipping more and more each time you pick the phone up.

The sun is high in the sky by the time you break, light bathing your kitchen and revealing all of the spots you’d missed when you’d dusted earlier. Your phone is heavy in the palm of your hand like a bomb – like if you don’t hit send right now, you’ll lose the motivation and it’ll detonate, taking any chance of you seeing Joel tonight and not self-sabotaging with it. 

You close your eyes when you press the button and toss your phone somewhere across the room.

Well – you think – no going back now.

Joel is sitting on cold, hard bleachers at the Homecoming football game when he sees you’ve responded, the shouts of people in the stands around him not enough to avert his attention.

Hey, yeah, that would be great! Do you want to come to my apartment later? I have a bottle of wine we can crack into if you’d like. And I can order pizza.

The announcer is saying something about player #72 over the loudspeaker. He doesn’t tune in. 

Joel types his reply and sends it:

Sounds perfect. I’ll come over around 7?

Sarah groans next to him. “You wanted to come to this game, dad. If you’re bored already, can we leave?”

His eyes shoot up. “No, uh – sorry. Just had to answer one text.”

Sarah narrows her eyes at him. They dart to the phone just as another message rolls in, your name flashing across the screen before Joel can hide it.

“Is that my professor?”

Joel doesn’t answer. His silence confirms enough. 

“I knew you guys hit it off last night! See, dad, even though you didn’t wanna tell me at breakfast, I still found out. I always find out. Because Sarah knows all.” She attempts a maniacal, Disney villain-esque laugh. 

Joel raises an eyebrow at her. 

“You done?”

“So you going out again later? Do I need to make your bed on the couch, or should I just not bother?”

He ignores her. Someone gets a touchdown and half the crowd goes wild. He doesn’t bother to check what team scored. 

He opens your latest message, instead.

Perfect. See you then, Cowboy ;)

His breath hitches at the nickname, at the thought of you calling him that again in person. The thought of kissing you again, if you’ll let him.

He doesn’t catch who wins the game.

Joel arrives at your apartment at seven o’clock on the dot. 

Punctual, you note.

He’s holding a bottle of wine, gripping the neck with long, calloused fingers. 

“Know you said you had some already,” he says as he steps over the threshold. “Just didn’t wanna come empty handed.” 

The sentiment takes you aback. You’re not exactly used to dates bringing you gifts, especially ones this expensive, if the minimalist yet fancy label is any indicator. 

“Thanks,” you say awkwardly, taking the bottle from him. You can’t quite make out the name – something foreign, etched in cursive. 

“‘ts Italian, I think,” he mumbles, as if he can read your mind. 

Your eyes shift from the bottle to Joel, standing in front of you in his Carhartt jacket, brows furrowed, gaze trained on the floor at his feet. 

“Thank you,” you say more genuinely this time. 

Joel smiles appreciatively. You motion to the space behind you.

“Come in.” 

You lead Joel to the kitchen, just off the entranceway, and place the bottle down on the counter, gently. You tuck yourself in the corner, leaning back to rest your arms on cool granite. Joel mirrors you against the adjacent island. 

“How’s Sarah?” you ask. “Feeling any better?”

“Uh, yeah,” he says, rubbing at his scruff. “She was askin’ about you. Saw me textin’ you.”

“Yeah – guess you couldn’t exactly hide this from her, staying at her apartment and all.”

“Yeah,” he laughs. “Guess not.”

You pop open the bottle of wine. Pour glasses for both of you. Then you order pizza: one cheese, one sausage and pepper. The person on the other end of the line tells you it’ll be thirty to forty minutes. 

“Gonna be a bit of a wait,” you tell Joel when you hang up. “Busy night, I guess.” 

He nods, takes a sip of wine, and then places the glass down, his eyes unmoving from yours. 

You realize then that he’d been staring at you the entire time you were on the phone. The way he’s looking at you – gaze the same as the one from the bar last night when you’d straddled him – has you feeling suddenly nervous.

“What?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. 

“Can I kiss you again?” he asks.

Oh.

You breathe out a laugh. It’s not funny – really, the opposite – but you hadn’t been expecting him to ask that. “Joel-” you’re going to say yes – fuck yes – but he interrupts you. 

“Been dyin’ to since last night.” He’s so open, so earnest. It’s fucking hot.

“Joel,” you say again, louder this time. He freezes. His eyes widen, like he’s anticipating your answer. 

“Please.”

It’s all he needs to hear. In an instant, he crosses the distance between you. He places his hands on the counter behind you, framing your body with his. You peer up at him and, fuck – he looks ravenous. 

He kisses you – hard. His teeth crash against yours. It’s messy and hurried, but you don’t care – you want him closer, need him closer. 

Your head swims with memories of the feeling of his bulge against your clothed core. The need to feel it again is all-consuming. You’re greedy for it. And with the time constraint, you don’t want to wait another second. 

You pull back abruptly. Joel furrows his eyebrows where he looms over you, concerned.

“Joel,” you pant,  “I need you.”

It takes him a second to compute what you’re asking. And then he’s nodding furiously.

“Fuck,” he whispers. “Okay, darlin’.”

You pull him back in with a hand at the back of his neck, digging your nails into the skin there. His tongue slips into your mouth with a groan. You’re minutely aware of him shrugging his jacket off, hearing the light thump it makes when it hits the linoleum. And then his hands are on you, wandering up and down your body like he needs to feel every inch of you. He tugs at the base of your t-shirt impatiently. 

“Off,” he mumbles against your lips. You pull back only to do as he’s asked, and then you’re right back on him, sucking a bruise into the skin below his ear, your body claiming him subconsciously. His head falls back momentarily, revealing his bobbing throat. You scrape your teeth lightly along the skin there, eliciting a groan from Joel. 

Your mouth continues exploring his neck as his fingers find the clasps of your bra, unhooking them quickly and tossing it aside. You don’t see where. You don’t really care – you’ll find it later.

He grabs your now-naked sides and steps back, pulling you with him. Then he turns you and pushes you back against the island. 

He slaps the countertop behind you. “Up,” he breathes against your neck. You don’t argue. You don’t want to argue. You’re so used to being the one in charge, the one in control — right now you’re happy to bend to Joel’s will.

You grip the edge of the island with both hands and hoist yourself up so that you’re perched there, legs dangling.

Joel’s fingers immediately go to the button of your jeans, popping it open before moving to tug the zipper down. And then he’s helping you lift your hips so that he can pull them down and off. He adds them to the pile at his feet.

You’re left in nothing but your underwear splayed out on your kitchen counter in front of him. You feel like you should be self conscious, maybe even embarrassed by your depravity. But you can’t find it in you to be either, not when Joel is slotted between your legs, his dark eyes scanning over you hungrily. Showing you he needs you just as bad as you need him.

He rubs his hands over your thighs and up the sides of your body, mapping your curves with great concentration. “God damn,” he whispers, what seems to be, mostly to himself. “Fuckin’ gorgeous.”

You whine pathetically. Your patience is growing thin.

He smirks up at you, likely seeing in your face how desperate you are for him right now. 

“‘ts okay baby, I got you,” he coos, suddenly sinking to his knees in front of you. His hands move closer to your clothed pussy, but not quite there, tracing light circles along your inner thighs. Then he replaces his fingers with his mouth, sending your hips bucking off the counter, chasing him.

The coarse hair of his mustache scratches the skin surrounding where he sucks and bites. You don’t care. You just want to feel it lower, against your dripping folds.

“Please,” you breathe, shakily. Through hooded eyes, you catch Joel’s satisfied grin. You realize then that he loves this — making you beg for it, for him. It’s a dizzying contradiction to the way he was practically begging to kiss you just moments ago.

He presses a chaste kiss against your skin, his lips infuriatingly close to where you need them most.

“Whatcha need, darlin’?” he purrs. The vibration of his voice just next to your core has you spiraling. 

“Need your mouth,” you cry. “Please.”

“Where?” He nips at you, half an inch closer to your swollen clit. You can feel his breath. Your cunt reactively clenches around nothing. 

“On my pussy, Joel” you plead. 

He pulls away from you completely, looks up at you with devilish eyes.

“Good girl.”

He dips one finger into the side of your underwear, pulling them aside to reveal your glistening core. “Damn baby, you’re soaked,” he drawls. You catch the hint of pride that tinges his voice. 

“Please,” you beg again, your voice wanton and broken.

Joel gently pets your throbbing clit with the pad of his thumb. The pressure he applies is feather-light, barely there. But still, after all the teasing, you can’t help the embarrassingly loud moan that escapes you.

He chuckles darkly. “Alright sweetheart, I know – enough teasin’.”

He hooks both index fingers in the top of your panties, pulling them down and off in one swift movement. And then his tongue is on you, exactly where you need it. 

He holds you open with fingers digging deliciously into the meat of your thighs as he licks long, languid stripes from your leaking cunt up to your clit, over and over again until you’re a whimpering mess underneath him. You struggle to hold your weight up on your elbows, watching him as he works you with his mouth.

He’s so good at this – too good at this. You tell him as much, between broken moans. 

“Sofuckinggood Joel – holy shit.”

You swear you can feel him smirk against your heat. 

He buries his face into your cunt then, nose pressed against your clit, and swivels his head back and forth, coating his mustache and beard in your arousal. He groans against you, like this is getting him off just as much as you. It’s all so obscene, so filthy.

You’ve never had a man go down on you like this – like they actually enjoy it. But then again, it doesn’t come as much of a surprise, not when it’s Joel. You’ve quickly come to learn that he’s attentive in every sense of the word. Knows just what you want, what you need – evident by the way his lips latch back onto your clit when you keen for him.

He keeps his attention there, switching between suckling on it – which is enough to make you see stars on its own – and lapping at it with short, shallow flicks of his tongue. He experiments with different angles, licking at different spots on the bundle of nerves until he finds the one that makes you cry out, your babbles of there Joel, yes, right fucking there, don’t stop, letting him know exactly where to focus. 

You feel yourself quickly hurtling toward the edge. You just need a little bit more to get you there.

“Fingers,” you pant. “Need your fingers in me.”

Two of his fingers are at your entrance before you can even blink. You’re so wet that he slides them in easily, curling them against your walls. He expertly finds your G-spot, massaging it as his tongue continues to lap at your clit.

You gasp at the combination. It’s so good – so much.  “Oh my god Joel, I’m so close,” you cry.

He doesn’t let up, doesn’t even look at you. His eyes are closed in concentration, fingers and tongue unrelenting. He’s lost in your pussy. You can tell he’s not going to come up for air until he’s given you an orgasm. 

And it doesn’t take much longer – one, two, three more strokes of his fingers and you’re cumming hard.

Your vision blurs and your ears ring in your head. You’re vaguely aware that Joel is pinning one of your thighs down with his free hand to hold you in place as you thrash against the countertop. 

He fucks you through it, your pussy clenching around his fingers as he continues to curl them against that spot, your clit throbbing against his tongue. 

It is – without a doubt – the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had. 

He doesn’t stop when you’ve come down, eager to milk every last drop from your weeping cunt. The overstimulation is too much. Your grip tightens in his hair, weakly attempting to pull him off of you as you whimper nonsense above him. You manage to exhale his name, or something close to it, and he finally lifts his face.  

His eyes meet yours, dark and hooded. He looks absolutely pussydrunk.

The entire lower half of his face is soaked with your slick. His shiny, pink lips pepper kisses along your inner thighs, smoothing over the spots he’d marked with his teeth just minutes ago. You feel so sensitive – you shiver under his touch. 

His smile curves into your skin. He leaves one last light peck and stands up, grunting at the ache in his knees. You laugh, but you can tell by the darkness still looming in his gaze that he’s not done with you yet.

He helps you off the counter, steadying you with hands gripping your sides as you find your footing. Your legs feel like Jell-O, a welcomed side-effect of the earth-shattering orgasm you’ve just had. You lead Joel to your bedroom, leaving your clothes scattered across the kitchen floor.

He backs you toward the bed as soon as you’re in your room, lips latched to the side of your neck. The backs of your legs hit the mattress, and then he’s lowering both of your bodies onto it, cradling your head in his hand as you settle underneath him.

He sits back on his knees, pulling his t-shirt over his head to reveal his broad, tan torso. You’re pretty sure you’re salivating, lost in the slope of his shoulders and the wide expanse of his chest. Your eyes trail lower as he undoes his belt, followed by the button of his jeans. He shimmies them off along with his boxers, his large cock springing free, tip shiny with pre-cum, and hovers back over your eager body. 

He dips down and presses his lips to yours, prying your mouth open with his tongue. He’s remarkably patient for how hard he is, his erection pressing into your thigh as he kisses you, slow and wet.

One of his hands grips your jaw, the other pressed firmly against the mattress next to you. Minutes pass like that, you and Joel losing yourselves in each other. Then you remember that you don’t have all the time in the world – that your delivery driver could get here any minute. In truth, you’re not even fucking hungry anymore – not for pizza, anyway.

You snake your hand up to the back of Joel’s head, pulling at his roots lightly. “Joel,” you breathe when he lifts off of you, “please fuck me.”

He doesn’t have to be asked twice.

“How do you want it, baby?” he purrs in your ear, his warm breath skating over your skin. “How do you like it?”

You breathe out a moan. No man has ever asked you how you like it. They usually just give you a few sloppy, ill-timed thrusts, whatever they can muster before cumming and leaving you unsatisfied. 

But Joel isn’t just any man. 

“Hard,” you whine. “Need you to fuck me hard.”

He growls, low and dark. “‘ts right, sweetheart.”

He lines himself up with your entrance, rutting against your folds a few times to gather some of your wetness with the tip of his cock.

Then he sinks into you, slowly, stretching your walls as he notches further and further in. There’s a sweet, stinging pain, one you hope, fleetingly, that you’ll be able to feel tomorrow – like a keepsake from him. 

You sigh when he reaches the hilt, his tip nudging your cervix. He stills, letting you get used to his girth and you have to dig your nails into his back to keep from writhing under him. You don’t mind if it hurts – you just need him to move. 

“Please,” you whine, unable to stop your hips from bucking any longer. “I can take it, Joel.”

“Know you can, baby,” he coos, beginning to rock slowly inside of you. The pleasure is immediate, washing over your body like a warm wave.

He picks up the pace when he’s sure it feels good for you, dragging his cock halfway out of you and thrusting back in, over and over again. 

He grabs both of your legs, bending them so that you’re spread wide open for him, and grips the backs of your knees tightly as he slams into you. He can get so much deeper like this, his cock hitting a spot you didn’t even know you had. You let out a labored moan, fingers anchored into his delts.

“Talk to me darlin — tell me how it feels,” he pants.

“So – fuck, Joel – so fucking good.”

Joel drops his mouth to your shoulder, nips at the skin there. 

His voice is in your ear, a low snarl.

“‘Better than that fuckin ex, I bet.” 

You’d be annoyed by his cockiness – if he wasn’t so right.

But he is, and so you parrot, “So much better.” And then, because it’s the truth, you add, “the best.”

“Fuck,” he breathes, his hips stuttering at your words. “Can’t say that angel, you’ll make me cum.”

He pulls out and slams back into you again, setting a new, devastating pace. He fills you up just to leave you empty, over and over again. You’re a babbling mess underneath him, couldn’t string two more words together if you tried. Luckily, Joel is happy to take over and do the talking. 

“So fuckin’ pretty, babygirl. Make the most gorgeous noises, too.”

You’re so fucking close, you can only whimper in response. You feel your walls tighten around him.

He presses your foreheads together, his sweaty curls sticking to your skin. His eyes bore into yours. 

“C’mon baby, show me – show me how pretty ya are when ya cum on this cock.”

He brings one hand down to your clit, rubbing sloppy circles over it as he continues spearing into you. You hike your newly-freed leg up over his lower back.  A white heat licks at your spine. You barely have time to tell Joel you’re about to cum, your warning coming out a single cry of his name. He gets it, though, bringing you over the edge with his words. 

“I got you, baby, I got you; you can let go.”

Your orgasm barrels through you, from the tips of your toes all the way up to your ears. Joel doesn’t let up his ministrations, talking you through it as you writhe under him. 

“Thaaaats it. Good – ahh – good fuckin’ girl.” 

The only word you can think of in your state of euphoria is his name, chants of Joel, Joel, Joel spilling from the back of your throat as you cum.

You’re squeezing his cock through your aftershocks, and you can tell he’s close by the way his thrusts become more and more uneven. 

“Fuck – where do you want it?” he braces both palms against the mattress on either side of you.

“Inside – please, Joel,” you beg. “I’m on the pill.”

He curses in ecstasy,  cumming seconds later with a series of low grunts. His hips stall as he spills inside of you. There’s so much of it – he’s nearly drowning your cervix, coating your walls with rope after rope of his spend. 

He softens inside you, staying there for a long moment as you both come down from your highs. You’re sweaty, panting messes, and you can’t help but giggle at how spent you both sound. 

“Good?” he asks, nosing at the space just below your jaw. It’s so soft, so gentle. Your stomach does a backflip.

“Yeah,” you say. “Really fucking good.”

He pulls out of you with a low, guttural noise. You sigh at the loss of him, your hand coming down reflexively  to feel where he’s leaking out of you. His fingers graze yours, and he bumps them aside to scoop up some of your combined fluids. 

He brings his wet, sticky fingers to your lips, humming when you immediately take them into your mouth and suck them clean, eyes unmoving from his the entire time. You bat your eyelashes at him, innocently as he pulls them out with a wet pop.

“Fuck,” he curses, “gonna get me hard again, angel.”

He lays down next to you, letting his head thump against the pillow, and flexes his biceps behind his head. You kind of hope he does get hard again, despite the fact that your whole body feels like liquid. Like if you were to try and stand, your legs would most definitely give out on you. They’re trembling right now, where you have them half-bent, heels dug into the mattress.

Your phone rings, then, snapping you out of your post-coital bliss. Fuck – the pizza.

You answer, trying your best to hide the undeniably fucked-out lilt of your voice as you tell the delivery person that someone will be right down.

Joel laughs next to you when you hang up. “I’ll get it – hold on.”

He jumps out of bed and dresses quickly. You’re gawking at him as he does. You can’t help it. This man – probably the hottest man you’ve ever seen – was just inside of you. You want to pat yourself on the back. He notices you staring as he’s zipping up his jeans and shoots you a wink.

Joel deadbolts your front door and disappears into the hallway. He returns moments later, shutting and re-locking the door, and strides back into your bedroom with both boxes. You can see the steam coming off of them through the cardboard. 

He sets them down by your feet.

“In bed?” you ask, sitting up against the headboard. 

“Well I’m not sure you can walk to the kitchen, darlin’.”

Your face heats. He has a point. But he doesn’t have to be so smug about it. You roll your eyes at him and mumble something nonsensical under your breath as you tuck yourself in under your duvet.

“What was that?” He quirks an eyebrow.

Long gone is the shy Joel from earlier this evening. He knows your body now, knows how hard he makes you cum. He’s a whole different man post-coitus – bolder. It makes you damn near melt.

And maybe you’re different now too. Because you’re pretty sure you’d give up your vow of solitude for him, if he asked.

It’s crazy, probably. You’ve only known Joel for two days, after all. But you can’t help the way that he ( and his dick) makes you feel. Like maybe there’s a promise of something down the line, however serious that something may be. You just know you want to give yourself the opportunity to experience it, no matter how it ends.

“Nothing.” You break, grin pulling tight at the corners of your mouth. “Just get me a slice of cheese.”

He lets his gaze linger for a second longer, the faux-threat of it heating you from the inside out. And then he’s vanishing into the kitchen, returning with two plates and a stack of paper towels. 

He dishes up slices for the both of you, climbing into bed next to you and handing over yours. 

He settles in with a content sigh.

You both eat in happy silence for a few minutes, Joel giving you a satisfied nod when he finishes up his first slice. “‘ts good,” he mumbles through a mouthful of food. 

“Right?” you retort. “It’s my favorite pizza around here.”

He hums in agreement. Pulls the box of sausage and pepper onto his lap to grab another slice.

“So,” you start, “you’re heading home tomorrow?” It’s more of a statement than a question. You know he is. But still, part of you wants Joel to say no, tell you that he’s canceled his flight, that he’s decided to stick around for a bit longer. 

“Yeah,” he says. You feel your heart sink. You silently curse yourself for being delusional. 

“Are you excited?” you try. “To be home?”

He doesn’t respond right away – his forehead wrinkling and his lips falling into a small frown. You watch as he thinks on it. 

“Not really,” he admits after a few seconds. 

“I know you’ll miss Sarah,” you say, letting your head fall onto his shoulder. 

He peers down at you with a heavy sigh. “So much…” His voice trails off, like there’s something else he wants to add, but can’t. 

The air feels thick, suddenly – heavy. You try your best to lighten it.

“Can’t stay a bit longer? Let Tommy run things for a while?”

“No,” he laughs. “Pretty sure he’ll just end up screwin’ every client we got.” 

“And you’d end up screwing every one of Sarah’s professors,” you tease. 

His mouth falls open in mock-offense. He grabs at both your sides, suddenly, letting the open box of pizza slide off of his lap and onto the bed. He tickles relentlessly just under your ribs, causing you to squeal and squirm under his grip.

“Joel,” you cry in between fits of laughter. “Stop!” 

“I don’t think so, darlin’,” he tuts. He removes one of hands momentarily, to toss your plate aside, and then he’s hooking one of his legs over your body, straddling you. He looks so big like this, his body hanging over yours. You feel content – safe. His hands release you, finally, coming to settle on either side of your head on your pillow. You blink up at him. He’s staring down at you with narrowed eyes. 

“What?” 

“Nothin,” he mumbles. “‘ts just, I wouldn’t, ya know. Sleep with anyone else, I mean. If you didn’t want me to.”

Your breath catches in your throat. You know that if you respond, it’ll come out way too eager. So you just blink at him again. 

“Would you want to keep talkin’ after I get home?”

Yes, you want to say. Please. I don’t think I could go on without knowing if I’ll get to see you again – fuck you again.

You swallow. Collect yourself. 

“Yeah. I would.”

You shimmy under Joel so that you can sit up. He straightens out, shifting his weight onto his knees. Takes both of your hands in his and pulls you up.

His eyes are still locked on yours. “I know we just met this weekend,” he says. “But I had a lot’a fun with you. I like you.” 

Your cheeks warm. “I like you too, Joel.” 

He smiles. “‘m glad.”

“Doesn’t have to be anythin’ serious,” he continues. Lets his fingers trace aimlessly along the inside of your arm. “We can jus’ see where it goes.”

“Yeah,” you nod, your heart squeezing in your chest. “See where it goes. I like that.” 

And it’s the truth. You do. In the stillness, your legs tucked under the covers, Joel caressing you, you feel, for the first time in a long time, happy to not be alone. And you know you will be again, very soon, when Joel leaves to go back home. But then again, you won’t – not really. His voice will be there, a phone call away, and his body will be there, in the divot he’s left in your mattress. And you’ll have the promise of taking this slow, seeing where it goes. 

You’ve never been so excited for the future. 

end notes: tysm for reading! I may turn this into a series if people want more of these two <3 lmk hehe

[kirqro]

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི’ Streamer!Ellie

warnings || none !!

lower case intended

{ I LOVE streamer els :’( }

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✮ streamer!ellie ' who's set up is either a really shitty web cam or top tier. Either way she def takes pride in it !

જ⁀➴

✮ streamer!ellie ' who watches shitty reality tv shows on stream and her reactions to the scenes def had a part of her blowing up.

જ⁀➴

✮ streamer!ellie ' was really insecure when she was just starting out streaming , like poor baby would tape up her camera up in fear it would randomly turn on ;((

જ⁀➴

✮ streamer!ellie ' who after hitting a milestone finally did a face reveal and was shaking in her boots.

She was just yapping to yap lwky.. because of how nervous she is

"So chat are we perhaps rocking with my outfit !"

જ⁀➴

✮ streamer!ellie ' who fucks around with her soundboard way to much ..

like baby be pushing buttons at the wrong time

જ⁀➴

✮ streamer!ellie ' who be fighting with her viewers sometimes..

'@elliesbigfatlefttoe - Ellie why can I SEE your armpit hair peaking out bae..'

SHE SNAPS BACK SOO QUICK

"BIG FAT WHAT? .. The fuck come bite it off for me then weirdo"

જ⁀➴

✮ streamer!ellie ' who plays a variety of games from Minecraft , Valorant , Roblox , Fortnite [ she gets called dog water by random 10 year olds.. (╥﹏╥) ] a bunch of random horror games and some rpg games.

She also does chill talking streams & random reaction videos.

LMAO SHE DEF READS FANFICS ABT HERSELFF

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✮ streamer!ellie ' who EATS on fashion famous

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✮ streamer!ellie ' gets herself into random ass twitter beef and just takes all the roast she gets by 10 year old arianators..

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✮ streamer!ellie ' is really just a big loser

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✮ streamer gf!ellie ' who after she blew up needed to introduce you to her stream , or at least make it known shes MARRIED.

ellie randomly drops the gf bomb on everyone on a random thursday stream outta no where..

୨♡୧

It was a pretty chill just chatting stream

when ellie started to give her viewers a ring tour. the pads of her fingers brushed against a certain ring on her left hand . a smirk could be seen adoring ellie's face while she slipped it off and tried to be a lil beauty guru showing the ring off.

up close in action shots as she called it..

"It's a promise ring with the wifey you know !" she said with pride forming inside her chest and a smile falling on her face.

Tik tok and wlw twitter sighed that day..

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✮ streamer gf!ellie ' who soft launches you and your identity.

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✮ streamer gf!ellie ' who loves when you sit in her streaming room with her ! although she tends to get a bit shy knowing your presence is there

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✮ streamer gf!ellie ' who talks the most shit with you about petty drama in her community ..

"babe you'll never guess who got cancelled .."

before you could even open up your lips to ask her what happened she cut you off in an instant

"bro that dyke abigail , her ex came forward saying she gave her fucking chlamydia.. goodness dirty ass bitch"

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✮ streamer gf!ellie ' who loves the way you love her. she can't ever seem to really wrap her mind around the fact that you've really stuck around with her for this long!

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✮ streamer gf!ellie ' who is wife !!

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Hii bbys I acc had sm fun writing this ! soo again maybe part two ?

Again requests are wide open so pls send some !!

ILYSMM and TYSM for reading !! (∩˃o˂∩)♡

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daily click for Palestine !!

from the river to the sea Palestine WILL be free!! 🍉

[linnienin]

🍰 T h e ⁕ m o o n ⁕ a n d ⁕ I C 🍰 : how are you behind closed doors?

Disclaimer: Take what resonates. I'm not a professional astrologer, i just am an avid researcher and i use my personal experience when writing my posts (Also, pls, don't copy my work, i spend lot of time on it, thanks)

We all know the Sun and Ascendant play important roles in our chart, but they are often what people see at first and what we usually display to the public.

Once we get home or we meet someone that makes us feel at home, this is when another unexpected 'part' of us unleash, that part comes from our deepest place of our personality, we don't hide our emotions anymore, we feel completely free to express ourselves in our rawest form (can also be interpreted as 'getting in tune with our inner child')

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⁕ Aries moon/IC : The forever child, kinda like a Peter Pan, and hella CHAOTIC. If you think this person appeared as balanced, laid back and diplomatic, well, you were very wrong lol. You'll soon realize he/she is the most spontaneous of all. Behind closed doors they'll sing loudly, they'll laugh loudly, they'll throw things at you (be ready to catch them or they'll break for sure 😂). Clumsy as hell, and they like it. Endless energy. Gets touchy in an aggressive mode (like when a child put their head violently against their mother's head, they don't mean to be violent, it's just the way they express love, it's bold and uncontrolled hehe) The type to workout at home and be LOUD about it (how many times did i write loud 🙈), has noisy heavy footsteps. Can burn the food lol. Can also be prone to burn themselves accidentally. Constantly finding new distractions to turn their head to. "THAT THING IS MINE, DON'T TOUCH IT". The bed is their personal trampoline. At night, they change position at least 10 times before actually find a decent one to sleep in (they'll make the bed appear as a gym, be ready for the earthquake), heavy sleeper.

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⁕ Taurus moon/IC: 'AHHHHH, finally my dear bed'. I see you tauruses, first thing you do once you get home is jumping on that comfy bed and hug your pillows (yeah, you still have your coat,scarf,hat,backpack,shoes on, why bother taking them off 😂). Not picky when it comes to food, they love all dishes, just the act of eating gives them pleasure (they're here to ✨enjoy✨, that's also why you'll rarely see them cook 😂). The living ghost (that maxi blanket looks good on you, but remember to wash it from time to time since you basically slide it on the floor wherever you go lol). The hugger, literally a safe and calm space for everyone, you'll see people comes to them when stressed just to feel their healing aura. Touchy, but in a sensual and calm way, like gentle little massages/strokes on shoulders, or waist (especially when the other person is cooking, to give them extra support and maybe get a taste of that sauce they're cooking👀) Fall asleep FAST. Usually stays in bed until late morning even if they wake up earlier (spends that time fantasizing)

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⁕ Gemini moon/IC: The multitasker. They can't stay still a second. Cooking while doing laundry, while listening to a podcast, while cleaning (superficially lol),while playing with their cats, while sending emails, while preparing for that exam, and oh...wait what is this smell? OH GOSH, THE OVEN! (of course of all things you forgot the food, sometimes you forget you are even human, you need those calories bby😂). Has the messier room, but also the most interesting one. Have a difficult time with silence, it's uncomfy to them, that's why they are always listening to something (tv shows, podcasts, youtube videos, music) even if they don't really care about what's being said (that's also why they know everything about anything, they absorb these facts like a sponge). Changes hobbies at the speed of light. You see them throwing ceramics one week, the next they're playing the cello (they secretly can't stick to a single hobby because it becomes too boring). Have difficulty sleeping, their brain can't seem to shut down, so usually they can take hours before falling asleep (they find sound comforting and helpful so lots of them listen to ASMR before going to bed or even listen to the sound of breathing of the person next to them to calm themselves)

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

⁕ Cancer moon/IC: Home sweet home. There's nothing that feels better for these natives than a good relaxing day at home (or maybe an entire life between those walls 👀). They literally can feel the mood changing the moment they pass the line that separate the outside world from their inner bubble of the home. They love to take care of their environment, they don't feel the chores to be so exhausting because it feels like helping an old friend out, and they take pride in their home too (they won't let you in easily, you need to really conquer them and show them you respect and cherish other's surroundings). They make very good cooks, but not the type to be super detailed with the ingredients, they are more intuitive, a bit like old grandma style (probably learnt to cook from a female family figure too). Make traditionals meals, can make meals from recipes thet have been passed on by previous generations in the family (and they take pride in this too). Has probably a personalized cookbook they wrote by hand with cute doodles on it. Has a specialty for making excellent sweets (and love to eat them too hehe). Has a welcoming aura. Has the coziest room. Loves to make forts with bedsheets. TV series binger. Pretends life only exist between those 4 walls. Bawl their eyes out for no apparent reason at a random time (well, they accumulated the stress from outside so now that they feel safe they let go). Likes to be held when sleeping, and if there's no one beside them, they like to hold a plushie or to curl up in side fetus position 😂

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

⁕ Leo moon/IC: The beef. Oh yeah, as soon as the door closes, they can't wait to spill tea on all the people that bothered them during the day (i see u 👀). The funny and spot on imitator. Gets very touchy and loving, until you don't give them attentions anymore 😾, then they'll put on a show, and if you're still apathetic, they might break something lol (don't get them to this stage pls ). Has lots of lights decor in their room, also lots of... mirrors 👀. 48393983902 hair products, their hair routine is absolutely a ritual, if you interrupt them they'll give you the death stare (but deep down they like being caught while taking care of their beautiful mane, cus they feel sexy with wet hair, or even when blowing them, feeling like a superstar). Don't you dare telling them the food they cooked wasn't good, they take pride in it and they try their best to provide for others. Also they care for their family and friends a lot, so never talk bad things about them or you'll hear the roar of the lion. Are the best entertainers, sometimes the show gets a bit too real and you don't know where the fine line lies anymore (that's how good they are, but are you good enough to handle them?). At night, they wanna be hugged from behind to feel the heat on their back (it helps them relax when trying to fall asleep)

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

⁕ Virgo moon/IC: Picky af. Especially with food. They don't let you enter their room unless they like you. Everything in their home is accurately chosen and has a function, no useless stuff (even if it seems 'useless' they might use it to relieve stress or whatever). Tidy room. Don't decorate much, they're into the clean look aesthetic, usually they don't have lots of things and they're put in strategical places so that it's easier for them to clean (and they clean the home quite often). The one that knows how to do anything PERFECTLY. They become masters at what they do. Cooking? They know all the secrets. Doing laundry? They have a baggage of knowledge no one else has. Oh, wanna have segss? I just got my PhD in sexology 😂. Is into way too many hobbies, but unlike geminis they actually go deep into it until they have reached a level of satisfaction (honestly...they never reach it because it's never enough, so that's why they say they putted on hold that hobby and not that they got over it, while geminis are like well..who cares, it wasn't for me, next). Reflecting on that conversation they just had with a person 1 hour ago and re-write it to perfection in case they get to experience the same thing another time. Control freaks, i knoooow, but it's true cm'on, why would you get a panic attack when you're home? Your brain never leaves the outside world right? You overthink way too much, pls, it's okay to let go sometimes ok? Light sleeper, has difficulty falling asleep because of they're constantly ruminating.

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

⁕ Libra moon/IC: Lives in a castle... i'm kidding, they only wish they did lol (i mean maybe there's really someone out there that is a Libra and lives in a castle and they're reading this post laughing at me, sorry for the generalization). Loves when they have people do the things for them, it makes them feel appreciated and evalued (but also because they don't have to choose or they'll be the forever indecisive). They are the mediators in every family discussion because of their ability to remain calm while others easily fall into rage. Have a room with posters of their idols or fav celebs, is into photo collages of memorable moments. Everything in their room is somehow cohesive because of the ✨aesthetic✨. Sweets lover🧁. Randomly tries all the clothes in their closet just to see if they can make new outfit combos (and spend an entire day on it). Sips wine (or blackberry juice if they're not into alcohol, just because of the old money aesthetic) while watching rom-coms. Loves to try new foods, but don't exactly love to cook it, i mean, they try but... at some point they just lose focus, and when they see the immense chaos of mess they just did, they lose faith lol. Good listeners, probably not the best at giving advices tho (they usually don't even know what they'd have done in that situation😂).

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

⁕ Scorpio moon/IC: Collectors. You enter their room and thay have all type of weird stuff like miniatures and gadgets looking at you like... ok wow, it's a creepy good kinda feeling (i found they're into animal's skulls too). It's not rare to hear them talking to themselves, they're not crazy, it's their way to release stress lmao. Headphones on 24/7. Not available for your bullshit, they got stuff to do. "Don't disturb or i'll kill you" on the door. Plan a whole murder but archive it because in this world it's not worth making it. But they have a heart i swear, just for those they love, that's it. Likes playing with kitchen tools, to test all their abilities. Just in case. They plan all the best hiding spots. Just in case. Learning that new taekwondo move. Just in case. Yeah, they're a liitle paranoid 😂. Can leave a bit of dust specifically so they see if someone touch their things. Likes boiling hot food and beverages. I swear, how can you even drink that tea and not burn your tongue, i'm impressed. Is the last one to fall asleep in the whole building, or family members, usually stay up until very late. Sleep few hours, i honestly don't know how they can even stand, they're for sure resilient. Don't like hugs, but gives them when they feel like it. They're like cats, 100%, you got a cat? Good, that is not a cat, it's a scorpio moon. (I love them tho hehe)

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

⁕ Sagittarius moon/IC: Clumsy af, but has great humour. Tell the best stories ( can add quite a lot of beef in them, but they don't make it sounds like they're saying bad things hehe ). Has the jungle room, i swear, they have all type of things dangling from walls and the ceiling, sometimes to the point of almost looking like a laser room lmfao (prepare yourself to train like Catwoman). The one that pushes others out of their comfort zone (and kinda use this excuse to escape outside with them too 'cause can't stay inside a building for too long 😂). Probably lives somwhere in the countryside or dreams of living around nature, like in the mountains, in a forest, near a river etc... Constantly jump between rooms and hit themselves with some furniture, has constant bruises on them legs (their energy is too big to be contained between walls sigh). The big portions eater, they can eat all the leftovers from others and still not feeling heavy, i admire their digestive system lmfao (i could never). The funny face eater too, they're the living anime's characters. Binge watch survival shows. Wanna be free, so don't force them into stuff they're not interested in (they'd join by themselves if they want to). When don't know what to do, scroll endlessly their phone through meme pages. Send memes to EVERYONE , even when it's like... why did they send me that? Well, ok let's laugh (ya know, they don't have reasons, they are pretty simple people after all). The first one to try that weird stuff because you only live once so why not make it an adventure? Leaders, but need a counselor. Loud sleeper, can snore. Usually spread their limbs to the whole bed, and if you need to join them, well, good luck (you'll be sleeping on the couch sometimes😂)

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

⁕ Capricorn moon/IC: your pacific homie. They do the same things every time they come home (like a programmed robot lol). Routine lovers. They need a predictable environment because their energy gets sucked by the chaos of the outside world. They aren't into decorating much, but they do have a passion for artistic hobbies, some of them can paint or play an instrument/sing, they have their tools for that hobby and that's it, the rest is quite minimal and practical. Can wear the same outfit on repeat too, it's like they don't care, or they have better things to care about (Mark Zuckerberg kinda vibe with the same tee over and over again). Loves traditional meals, meals they always ate since they were a child, not so open to try new food. Have a...peculiar relationship with the family (particularly their mother). I have noticed they usually don't talk much when having lunch/dinner at the table, they don't express much, and don't make eye contact to avoid people making questions. Quite reserved, need a lot of alone time to recharge. However, there's a need for them to have someone by their side to share those things too, they're absolutely afraid to end up alone, it's their worst fear, so even if they don't open up much, they want someone that understands them with just a look (however, communication is key guys, sometimes you succumb to the other person, especially if they have a strong personality, to just avoid conflict, and this is to your own detriment, you deserve better!). People say that this placement don't like physical touch, however, i'll say they veery rarely initiate the contact, but deep down the like it when others take initiative and show affection to them, it makes their heart warm even if they might not show it (but i can still see that subtle change in the expression 👀). The stable sleeper, they sleep in a position and that's it.

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

⁕ Aquarius moon/IC: Step into home=step into my fantastic spaceship and leave earth for a while bye. The crazy calm gal. Constantly crunching their bones (why tho). Tries to walk on walls just to see if they can bend gravity. Wanna try to glue their shoes with the Pattex and attach themselves to the ceiling like the guy in the advertising(Can be content even with swinging from the chandelier). Throw random parties and invites everyone (even strangers lol). Likes when people stay over to sleep, just to see them all in their worst condition (usually drunk)😂. Have the tech room, and when they enter it, they turn off their lights, turn on their displays and pick up their hood, and voilà, they're in a Mr.Robot mood (can be good hackers for real tho). Don't know how to show emotions so they instead react with a weird funny expression that could mean everything and nothing at the same time. Yeah, they can be confusing as hell (is this part of their plan? I dunno). Record a video of themselves everyday talking about their experience on this earth, just in case someday someone (maybe an alien) finds these recording and place them in the Interspatial Galactic Museum. Thanks for your contribuition. Can sleep with eyes open. I'm kidding hehe, they actually can sleep well, because they know they did their job that day, so rest in peace (and you'll never know when the world will end, might be today, so gotta enjoy the sleeping hours). (but honestly, there's some truth behind the sleeping with eyes open, because of all the screen time on their devices, the melatonin production is at 0 basically lmao, turn on the night filter when looking at your devices!)

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

⁕ Pisces moon/IC: Walks in, continue walking, get to their room, get on the bed. Wakes up. Moment of realization: ohh, i didn't know i just got home, i was in my head thinking, but good thing that now i can relax. Proceed to search for food ready to be eaten (without too much cooking involved). Free to daydream with 0 consequences (hmm...maybe you should organize your time better cause that exam won't pass by itself). A literal softie, their room is full of plushies and pillows where they can drown in. Always lose track of time. Has a messy but cozy room (very bad at tidying their things). Leave 3789132789 clothes piled on the bed lol. Lost in their thoughts. Intuitive eating (can binge eat tho if not careful). Can burn the food because they just forget they even put it on the first place. The master procrastinator. Has a calm vibe , and won't disturb anyone (you probably won't even notice them). Have artistic hobbies, but can't focus on them for too long because they get easily distracted. Can lose the entire day to watching videos or social media, and even if they're aware, they still continue doing it. Are into spiritual stuff, probably got 17932701 cristals and a personalized altar for them too, with others meaningful pieces and some candles. They're always in the bathroom, even when they shouldn't be there, it's just their favourite place. Can take veeery long showers, if you live with them, be ready to wait A LOT before they actually get out (or just sneak in😂privacy who?). Loooove to sleep. That calming time at night when everything shuts down is the best feeling in the entire world to them. They can't wait to go to bed honestly, they even get excited. Afternoon naps are also a thing for them. Like to sleep on their stomach.

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

A n d ⁕ y o u ⁕ h a v e ⁕ r e a c h e d ⁕ t h e ⁕ e n d !

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

I hope you enjoyed this post,

and i wish you all a great day! 🍰

⁕ L i n n i e ⁕

[plsdonttakemyname]

Boothill x G!n Reader

A/n ; this post is literally inspired by this post on TikTok HDHAJBDHSJSJDH 'M CRYINFFG..... I'm so sorry I haven't posted for soooo goddamn long... forgive me if my writing has gotten even worse mggggrr .. Wrote this at 3am, please let me know if I did typos... :'3

Mentions ; Boothill, Cyborg body parts, Poor bby can't feel physical affections like hugs and hand holding :(..Fluff fluff fluff grrrr...I'm trying my best not to turn this into an angst..Modern Au (I guess?), :3 Reader uses lipstick (no gender mentioned), Use of nicknames for reader (Doll,Baby,Etc...), OOC BOOTYHILL :(...

.. 𝑳𝒊𝒑𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒌 𝑺𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒔 ..

You and Boothill have been dating for almost 2 years , right now he has you on his lap. You were testing out the lipstick you got recently on him and he agreed to it. His face now covered in different shades of lipsticks.

"mm, I kinda like this shade, what do you think about it 'hun?" he wrapped his arms around your waist while supporting you on his lap " I don't mind what shade of lipstick you use doll...you'd look absolutely stunning with anything" he answered as you smiled at his reply, leaning in to kiss his cheeks "Flatterer.." He lets out a small chuckle before leaning in again for another kiss "What can I say? I love my sweetheart this much" he said as you caress his cheeks, nuzzling her nose against his slightly while knowing it brings him comfort due to being the only place he can feel any real warmth. Yet you continue to show him you care in the small ways you can, showing you love him in these simple things. The both of you are resting on the couch and enjoying each other's company before he slowly speaks up and breaks the comfortable silence "Do my cyborg body parts bother you?" You were caught off guard by his sudden question. you shook your head, planting another kiss on his lips before answering him "No..of course not..what makes you say that?" He shrugged as he pulled you in closer in his arms while he nuzzled in the crook of your neck "Nothin'..I'm just askin.." you wrapped your arms around his neck in response as you ran your fingers through his silky white long hair while he cuddled with you on the couch. Minutes have passed when you suddenly remembered that your boyfriend is still covered in your lipstick..."Baby I think we should wash the lipstick away before it stains your face" with a few moments of silence, he pulled away and looked at you "good..let it stain then."

PLEASE THIS IS HORRIBLE WRITTEN,Im so sorry if I disappoint . :( my schedule has been very packed lately and I have to drive and pick my cousin up from school whenever I get free times.. Also wrote this at 4am without any sleep. I'm so sorry again if there's a grammar error. I feel so anxious when I post because I'm scared it's gonna be bad..but I'm trying my best despite having a packed schedule. But if you have any ideas, feel free to request , I'll try my best to take them when I'm free

© 2024 plsdonttakemyname do not repost, copy, translate, modify.

[sunflowerkiwis]

Sparks Fly

daniel ricciardo x reader, platonic!lando norris x reader

not much of a plot

feedback is appreciated + requests are open

enjoy xx

yourinstagram

liked by danielricciardo, charles_leclerc, and 2,764,856 others

yourinstagram i see sparks fly whenever you smile💜

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user01 the way he looks at her🥲

taylorswift real

landonorris real

pierregasly real

georgerussell63 real

yourinstagram ariana what are you doing here??

user03 i think yn’s was the realest😭💀

user05 they called all of us single in swiftie and a hundred other languages

user07 find you someone who looks at you the way daniel looks at yn

liked by yourinstagram

danielricciardo who’s that handsome lad?

yourinstagram just some random bloke i found on the street

danielricciardo is he single?

yourinstagram im afraid not

danielricciardo his girlfriend doesn’t have to know 👀

yourinstagram i can’t stand you sometimes

danielricciardo you love me

yourinstagram i know

landonorris 🤢

danielricciardo 🙄🙄

liked by yourinstagram

danielricciardo

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danielricciardo i’m captivated by you like a fireworks show

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user23 me too, daniel. me too.

charles_leclerc please tell yn to stop climbing on things she should not be climbing

danielricciardo i try my best

oscarpiastri pretty sure she thinks she’s a cat

yourinstagram i’ll never stop🥰

yourinstagram meow meow mf

yourinstagram damn

yourinstagram lucky lady

danielricciardo she sure is 😉

landonorris side eye

yourinstagram why are you always here omg

landonorris it’s a public post

yourinstagram shut up

landonorris simp

liked by yourinstagram

yourinstagram love u💜

liked by danielricciardo

danielricciardo love you more❤️

liked by yourinstagram

user11 why can’t i get a bf like this😀

yourinstagram don’t worry, you’ll get there bby🫶

user11 excuse me while i go pass out

user29 guess who’s sleeping on the highway🤪🤗

user15 are we not gonna talk about yn attending almost every race and always being there to support daniel🥹🥲😭

liked by yourinstagram, danielricciardo, and georgerussell63

~

yourinstagram added a photo to their story!

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yourinstagram DANIEL

danielricciardo WHAT

yourinstagram THERE ARE CHILDREN ON THIS APP

danielricciardo AND HOW DO YOU THINK THEY WERE MADE???

yourinstagram D A N I E L

~

landonorris

liked by mclaren, yourinstagram, and 1,763,481 others

landonorris she made me post this saying that i love her and i’m happy for her relationship and she’s my best friend

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yourinstagram i did no such things

yourinstagram all i see is lies

mclaren we’re telling oscar

danielricciardo careful, i heard she has a really good looking, tattooed boyfriend

yourinstagram maybe i do ;)

landonorris careful, i heard the guy who posted this has never wanted to block anyone more than you two

yourinstagram feel free to leave

landonorris it’s my post??

yourinstagram my face got you likes

charles_leclerc we can’t see your face…

yourinstagram my boobs got you like’s

landonorris oml🤦‍♂️

user09 MOTHER????

yourinstagram YES MY DEAR?????

user21 yn leave ur bf, i can drive in vroom vroom circles too😩

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yourinstagram watch out dani👀

~

yourinstagram

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yourinstagram lover <3

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danielricciardo hot

user37 she has him wrapped around her finger

danielricciardo i was talking about me, but she’s pretty too ig

yourinstagram say hi to the couch for me today

scuderiaferrari our favorite summer couple🔥😍

charles_leclerc wow.

carlossainz wow.

sebastianvettel wow.

yourinstagram oh to be a thigh tattoo…

user13 i think yn commenting on her own post about her boyfriend to praise him is the most yn thing she has done

user07 is she wrong tho-

landonorris yes.

maxverstappen1 i finally understand what lando’s always going on about

yourusername thanks for taking our pictures 😘

maxverstappen1 let each other breathe for just a second

user31 max💀

danielricciardo i’d marry you with paper rings

yourinstagram YES

yourinstagram PLEASE

user17 OMG ITS FINALLY HALLENING

yourinstagram JUST GIVE ME A DATE AND TIME

taylorswift what about me

yourusername actually… bye @danielricciardo, my wife’s calling😘

user61 stop, whAT IS HAPPENING

yourusername @user61 im marrying the love of my life @/taylorswift

user53 she’s so real

danielricciardo

danielricciardo mine <3

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[silentglassbreak]

hi bestie is it too late to request? you said you liked writing angst, well, i love reading it 💔💔painfully unrequited love!!!!! gimme gimme

friends with benefits with (overly affectionate!!!!) Noah and reader who falls sick to her stomach head over heels in love with him. blurring the lines between sex and love.

going to a bad omens concert however long after and it’s like they’re strangers oOF rip my heart out and stomp on it idc. been listening to Novocaine on a loop all day. i’m not okay

feel to totally disregard if you’re not feeling it angel <33 thank you bby I love your writing 🥺🥺

Angst............. UGH I've been WAITING babes. My goal is to rip your heart out...fair fucking warning. MMMLOVEYOUUUUU. After Writing Notes: I'm the actual worst. I hope you don't hate it!

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: smut, heartbreak, lots and lots of angst

Can You Feel My Heart

Love languages are such a strange concept, aren't they? That seems to be a fairly new idea that someone came up with in the last decade or so?

If you like to buy love...your love language is gifting.

If you can't communicate well...your love language is affection.

If the only way you know how to show feelings is with sex...your love language is intimacy.

At what point are we allowed to call someone out for being a dick? At what point are we allowed to confront the fact that someone is skipping around the idea of commitment, and ask them to just admit what they really want?

This wasn't the first time these thoughts had danced around my head, in the wee hours of the morning, while Noah's arm laid heavy across my waist, him snoozing behind me.

Noah and I had been friends since we were seven years old. We met on the playground at the park in the center of the neighborhood of our small town in West Virginia. He told me he liked my butterfly hair clips, and I let him have the blue one. He wore it in his hair every day for three weeks.

He grew up in a broken home, only his Mom around most of his years, and even then - that relationship was...strained. So many nights he had snuck into my bedroom window, curling up next to me, tears free falling down his cheeks. We never talked about why, but it didn't take a psychic to figure it out.

He moved in with his Grandmother when he was fourteen, and even though he lived in the next town over, he still made it a point to take the city bus to me every day after school, even when he dropped out.

We were never more than twin flames, incapable of existing without each other, moral support for the other during any type of hardship. Looking back, I guess that was what built our serious dependence issues.

"I can't live without you, Y/N. I'll die if I ever lose you."

"No you won't Noah, don't be stupid."

He was stupid. As stupid as they come, because when I turned eighteen, and started college, he had paid one of his friends to drive him all the way up to Columbus to see me. He showed up at the door of my dorm, drunk and broken, blathering on about how only having been away from me for a week had killed him, and he needed to see me.

That was the first night he kissed me, and I let him.

As most people do when having grown up with someone so closely, I had developed an attachment to Noah very early on. I first recognized it when he turned twelve, and started skateboarding. He would insist on trying to teach me how, despite my undeniable clumsiness. His hands would grip my hips, his face so close to my ear, and his chest pressed to my back. He would talk in this deep voice, his puberty hitting early. I was awe-struck.

He was my best friend, sure. But he belonged to me, that's what he always said.

Even when he had girlfriends, I always came first. Dates would get cancelled for me; plans changed. Hell, he even blew off one girl whose birthday fell on the same day as mine. I was his priority. I was his person.

So when he leaned in to me, sitting on the edge of my mattress in the dorm, liquor stained-breath against my face, I just closed my eyes and let it happen.

He spent the night with me, and had to leave early. Vowing to come back, he never broke his word.

There he was the following weekend, sober this time, with snacks, DVDs, and a week’s worth of clothes. I managed to hide him in my room for four days before the dorm advisor caught him.

The second day he was there was the first time we had sex. I was a virgin, and he was not. That hurt me, sure. Not enough to deny him what was rightfully his. I belonged to Noah, body and soul. He took his time, walked me through it, and gave me the best possible experience I could expect. It hurt, and it was weird, but a sense of relief washed over me.

We had finally crossed that threshold. We had sex three times that week, until he was forced to leave.

That's when the words left his mouth.

"We need to talk."

That conversation broke something inside of me. He loved me, but he didn't love me. He was honored to have been allowed to give me something so meaningful, but he could never see me as more than his best friend. Our friendship was too important, and he wouldn't even allow himself to entertain the idea of jeopardizing that. He had made up his mind, and he couldn't have feelings for me.

It was with the heaviest heart imaginable, I sucked back my tears, painted an easy smile on my face, and held his hands in mine.

"I totally understand, Noah. No worries! We can just have fun, you know?"

And that was it. We were stuck in this sick, frozen place for the last two years. I was about to finish my Associates in Columbus, and hoped to become pre-med at Boston U, but Noah didn't know that yet. I could never figure out how to tell him.

Noah Davis was this heavy, bright flame that I was desperately afraid to extinguish. He had formed a band right after our arrangement began, and he was twenty-four hours away from leaving on their first major tour that would take him around the entire country, and then across the Atlantic to Europe.

How could I tell him that while he was gone, I was likely moving even further, and starting my life without him?

I didn't want to live without him, but he was leaving, and I couldn't sit and wait forever...

I breathed out a sigh, the light beginning to stream in the window of my one-bedroom apartment. He needed to wake up, drive home, and make sure he was ready to leave tomorrow. It was only 6AM, so I knew he'd be cranky, but I couldn't put this off any longer.

“Noah?” I breathed out his name. He groaned in response. “You’ve got to get up. You have to get ready to head home.”

"Mm, ten more minutes." I rolled my eyes, and began sliding out from underneath him.

His arm locked, and held me in place. I giggled, and saw as he turned his face, one eye cracking open. "Don't get up. It's too early."

I narrowed my eyes. "I have class at 8AM."

Noah used his strength against me, pulling my body to him and holding me tight so I couldn't get up. This only made me laugh louder.

"You don't need to get up for another hour."

"Not if I want to shower."

He sighed into the pillow. "So crazy, cause I don't think you do."

I rolled my eyes. "Dude, you've got to get home. Nick will kill us both if you're not ready in time."

"I'm not scared of her." He smirked, and I smacked his arm.

"Shut up. And get off me!"

He stuck his bottom lip out, pouting heavily.

"Not going to work. C'mon." I wriggled hard enough to break his grip, and sat up, stretching my arms over my head. He sat up as well, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

I pulled a robe over myself, turning to look at him as he scrolled through his phone, checking messages.

"Coffee?" I asked, and he threw a thumbs up at me.

I left the room, headed for the kitchen, trying to keep my breathing even. I had very little time left.

Filling the pot with water, I felt his arms wrap around me from behind, his face burying in my neck.

"I don't want to go. I'm going to miss you so much."

I leaned into the touch, taking anything I could at this point. "I know. I'll miss you more."

He scoffed. "Not a chance."

Holding me for a few more moments, he let go to head to the fridge, pulling out the bagels and cream cheese, and plopping down at the dining table. I continued my work of preparing our coffee.

"Hey, uh," I started, keeping my voice as calm as I could. "there's something I wanted to chat with you about."

I turned around, two hot mugs in my hand. He was spreading the cream on a bagel, already having prepared one for me. I sat next to him at the table.

"What's up?" He didn't look up at me.

"I told you I had been trying to decide where to start medical school?" He just nodded in response. "Well, I find out today if I got into Boston."

He halted, his eyes snapping up to me. "Boston?"

I took a sip of coffee. "They've got the best med program on the East coast-"

He cut me off. "Since when were you looking on the East coast?"

His tone was darkening. This was going to go about as well as I expected.

"Since I realized I had a chance. Noah, my GPA and scholar program gives me a real shot."

He grit his teeth, setting his bagel down. "Boston is far, Y/N."

I kept calm, setting my mug down as well. "I know."

"So, why would you want to be so far away?"

"Well, you're going far too, Noah. Your first show is in San Diego."

He sat back in his chair. "Yeah, but the last one puts me right back here in Columbus for a month before I go overseas."

I nodded. "I know. I'll still be here, then. You get back six weeks before the end of the semester."

He closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You can't go to Boston."

There was a finality to his tone, and something about it made my insides flinch with irritation.

"Oh no? And if I do?"

"You can't."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Can't? And since when do you tell me what I can and can't do?"

He rolled his eyes, standing from the table and walking over to the trash, binning the half of his bagel he didn't eat. "We can't be that far away from each other."

Lifting my eyebrows, I stood as well, crossing my arms. "And why is that, Noah?"

He leaned back against the counter. "Y/N, you know why."

"What? So you have someone to fuck whenever you want? Whenever one of your little groupies isn't around?"

His eyes popped open, then. "What?"

"You heard me." My tone was deadly, matching my stare at him.

"You really think the only reason I want you close is because of the sex?" He seemed truly stunned.

"Well, why else would you want me around?" I threw my hands up, walking back down the hallway toward my bedroom. I could hear his footfall behind me. I just continued, stepping into the closet to get dressed.

"What is that supposed to mean? I always want you around."

Rolling my eyes, I clasped my bra on and popped my head out to look at him. "Noah, I'm convenient for you. Unless you have any other valid reasons to keep coming over, I don't know why else it matters."

His jaw dropped open. "That is not true."

Pulling my shirt on, I scoffed. "Please, dude. Spare me the act, okay?"

"What act?"

I pulled my jeans on, buttoning them before stepping out to face him again. "The 'you're my person, and I can't lose you' act." I quoted myself. Something about that pissed him off, because he crossed his own arms and stared me down.

"The fuck are you getting at, Y/N?"

I shook my head, brushing past him, and walked toward the bathroom.

"Noah," I turned to look directly at him. "we've been at this for years. It's kind of old, don't you think?"

His face softened slightly. "We had an agreement."

I nodded. "You're right, we did. Just sex, for the sake of our friendship. That's what you wanted."

"I thought that's what we wanted."

Waving a hand between us, I took a step toward him. "Oh no, Noah. That's what you wanted. Not me."

He was silent, then.

"I wanted more. I always have. I thought that had become clear over the years, but I fucking guess not." I could hear my voice raising a few octaves. "You didn't give me a choice. You came in, broke that boundary, and then put it right back up again. And I stayed, just so I wouldn't lose you."

I could feel the tears beginning to well in my eyes.

His voice came out small, then, his hands now buried in his pockets.

"What do you want from me, Y/N?"

I sighed, letting one tear escape. "I want you to love me."

He pulled his hands out, stepping toward me and taking one of mine. I let him.

"I do love you!"

I stared at him, my teeth ground together. "Do you? The way I love you?"

Noah was a lot of things. He was brilliant, funny, generous, dedicated. He had the most redeeming qualities of anyone I knew.

And sure, he could be stupid. But not that stupid.

He had known how I felt about him. Of course he did. That was why I kissed him every chance I got. Why I always let him in. Why I never dated anyone else. Why I stayed all this time.

But here? In this moment? He was the biggest idiot I knew, because he dropped my hand, his eyes falling with it, and took a step backward.

"I..." He huffed out a breath, looking back up at my tear-stained face. "I can't. I'm sorry."

I averted my eyes, then. I could feel myself breaking, crumbling right before him.

"You need to leave, Noah."

I could feel he wanted to pull back to me, like a moon in orbit of a planet. Gravity. But he didn't. He just stepped back toward the doorway.

"What does this mean?" I heard his voice, but wouldn't meet his eyes.

I sniffed hard, trying like hell to keep myself upright.

"It means you go on tour. Be who you are, Noah. And I'll be who I am. Without each other."

His body shifted, but I was stone, unmoving.

"I can't lose you." I heard him let out a light, sarcastic laugh. "I'll die."

I let myself laugh at that.

"No you won't, Noah. Don't be stupid."

7 Years Later

Residency is going to kill me. I may actually die in pursuit of this God awful career I've chosen. I was three years in to a five year program, intending to finish in General Practice, but until that time, I was just an idiotic twenty-seven year-old with no life, no sleep, and no clean fucking clothes to wear.

Every resident gets exactly forty-eight hours of paid time off every three months, and I had not taken mine in over a year. I finally had taken all of my hours - six days total - off of work, and after spending the entire first day sleeping, I was due to meet with Raylene in an hour.

Ray and I met at the beginning of residency, and quickly gotten close. We managed to find an affordable apartment together within walking distance of the hospital, and spent any rare free time we had together. She was currently at her boyfriend's place, spending some much needed time with him, before we went out for the evening.

I was digging through my unfolded laundry, trying to find something not too wrinkled or stained to wear tonight. Ray had told me we were going to a concert for a band she had recently discovered, but she didn't tell me who it was. I didn't care, to be honest. Existing somewhere other than the Emergency Room or my own bed sounded heavenly.

Finally settling on a deep red cropped t-shirt, black skinny jeans, and the Vans I rarely got to wear, I straightened my hair and applied what little makeup I could. I set out of the building to the waiting vehicle downstairs, Ray practically hanging from the passenger window.

"You look so fine!"

I chuckled, shaking my head. "Sure. Like I might've slept in the last two weeks?"

She chortled back at me, leaning in her seat once I was in the car. I waved hello to her boyfriend Sean, and gazed at Ray.

"So, Tyler isn't coming."

She frowned at me. "Why not?"

I shrugged. "Said he had a case he was working on, and he really couldn't spare the time."

She rolled her eyes. "Typical lawyer. Too busy for anyone but his clients."

Tyler and I had been dating for about six months now. Maintaining a relationship while having jobs as busy as ours was difficult, but he somehow managed to work it out. He would pop in when he knew I had breaks to bring me food, or have me spend nights off at his place, massaging my neck and helping me get caught up on my favorite series. He was an honest man. A good man.

I liked him.

Right?

It's so hard to tell what's like and what's convenient when you live your life exhausted and overworked, so I didn't have a lot of time to question it.

"Bummer for him. I'm so excited to see this show!" Ray was beaming in the front seat.

"Yeah, who are we seeing, anyway?"

"A band called ERRA. They're opening for a bigger headliner, who I've heard are pretty good too."

I nodded. "I've never heard them."

"It's rock. Metal, really." Sean chimed in, and I acknowledged him silently, looking out of the window.

My mind zoned out while we drove to the House of Blues. Ray and Sean chatted idly up front, but I was just enjoying the fact that I was finally out of the house for once.

That is, until we walked into the venue. The banner poster stared at me, the photographs of the band mocking me...

Bad Omens...they were the headliner.

Memories flooded back to my brain, my insides clenching at the visions.

I hadn't spoken to him since that day...that last day in my apartment. When he left, and never looked back. I didn't even keep in touch with the rest of the guys, for fear that I would be sucked back into the maelstrom that was Noah Davis...

“Y/N?” I turned to see Ray stood behind me, noticing my reaction. “You okay?”

My mind wasn’t comprehending what I was seeing. There’s no way that was them? The last time I had heard of the band, they were one-of-four supporting bands on much larger headliners. Now, they were selling out tickets at their own tour? Seven years was a long time…but how had they gotten this popular?

I wondered this, as if I didn’t know how wildly talented those boys were. Aside from Noah, Nicky, Jolly, and Nick Folio were some of the most intelligent and creative minds I had known. They all brought something special to that band, but I would have never expected this.

Huh. Guess he could live without me after all?

Something bitter crept into the back of my throat, but I swallowed it down, staring at his photograph on the poster.

“Yeah,” I tore my eyes away for a second to look at Raylene. “sorry, I’m fine. Just didn’t realize Bad Omens was the headliner.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You’ve heard of them?”

I pulled my lips to the side. Did I want to tell her?

“Long time ago.”

I couldn’t get past how different he looked in the picture. Last time I saw Noah, his hair was halfway down his back, he was skinny, and he had the thinnest little mustache growing on his upper lip.

In these promo pictures, however, his hair was short, not even reaching his ears, he looked much more muscular, and he had no facial hair. He also had many more tattoos than I remembered. That wasn’t surprising. Noah was a tattoo addict from a very young age.

Jolly had let his hair grow and had the cutest goatee on his chin. Nicky looked almost exactly the same. And Nick, bless his heart, had grown into such a handsome guy. They all looked so grown, so serious and broody. It almost made me giggle, knowing how goofy these guys were in real life.

Noah looked the most stunningly different from the rest. Not only did his entire appearance change, but his eyes…something in them was just so much darker. That harsh flame I had once known was so dim. It almost hurt to see. Almost.

We were making our way out to the pit of the GA floor. I had decided to get myself a cocktail to take the edge off. I didn't plan to come face-to-face with him, and likely wouldn't even get the opportunity to get a good look at him period, but still...just knowing we were in the same room made my throat tighten. I washed it down with Vodka and cranberry juice, hoping the warmth of the liquor would unfreeze my nerves.

The first band, Invent Animate, was entertaining enough. Very interactive with the crowd and high-energy. I found it pleasant, but couldn't get myself to focus long enough to notice what they were singing about. I struggled to breathe, the set ending, and knowing I was one hour closer to seeing his face.

During the intermission, Ray excused herself to the restroom, and I stood with Sean, feeling dizzier as the moments passed.

"Hey, I think I'm going to step out for a second. Get some air."

He quirked an eyebrow at me. "You okay? Want me to come with?"

I shook my head. "Nah, don't want you to miss the band you guys came to see. I'll be back."

He nodded, patting me on the shoulder before I weaved in and out of the crowd. I discarded my plastic cup in a trash can before exiting out into the main lobby. I found a spot on the wall near the doors that was unoccupied, and leaned against it, letting my eyes close and my breathing even out.

When I opened my eyes, I searched the room, looking for nothing specific. I landed on the merch tables, and saw someone oddly familiar talking to the lead singer of the last band we had watched...

The liquid courage is what carried me in that direction, smiling to myself.

He stood with his hair pulled back, as usual, and was talking with his hands. Same as he always did.

"Nicky Ruffilo..." I said loud enough to hopefully catch his attention, my hands now grasping the edge of the table.

His head snapped over to look at me, his brows knit together curiously. I could tell he was putting it together.

"No fucking way..." His voice sounded the same as it always had. "Y/N?!"

My teeth flashed at him, and he circled the table to approach me, his arms pulling me into a tight hug.

"Jesus Christ, I didn't recognize you!" That was fair.

Since the last time I had seen any of the guys, I had bleached my hair a pale blonde, lost twenty-five pounds, and had grown two cup sizes. I was, for all intents and purposes, an entirely different person.

"Yeah, well I absolutely recognized you." I said as I gripped his shirt, squeezing him tight.

"How long has it been?" He asked, pulling back to look at me.

"Uh," I thought for a moment. "seven-ish years?"

Nick's eyes were in disbelief, an amazed leer on his face. "God damn, girl. I can't believe it."

I pointed to the banner above his head. "Headlining now, huh? That's amazing!"

He smiled, proudly. "Yeah, we've worked really hard. A lot's changed."

My eyes fell on Noah's face on the poster. "I can see that."

I could tell he was pondering, a question hanging on the edge of his tongue. It was the most obvious question, so I answered for him.

"He doesn't know I'm here."

He nodded, leaning an arm on the table comfortably. "Ah, okay. You didn't want him to?"

I snorted. "I didn't even know I'd be here. My friends came to see ERRA, and that's when I realized you guys were here."

"Makes sense." He had crossed his arms. "Do you want him to know?"

Contemplating this, I let my face fall to get away from his gaze. I wasn't certain how to answer that, but it seemed like the answer was clear regardless.

"No." I sighed hard. "It's probably for the best that he doesn't, right?"

I couldn't read Nick's face, if he was disappointed or relieved. He seemed to be pretty satisfied with my answer, but I could tell he had more he wished he could say.

"Fair enough." Was all he gave me, before letting out a breath. "So, you still live up here?"

I let my muscles relax for a second. "Yeah, doing a residency at Brigham right now."

"Residency? Does that mean you're a doctor?" He asked, clearly confused.

I cackled at this. "Yeah, full blown doctor. Got the little 'MD' after my name and everything."

He beamed at me. "That's so great! Congratulations!"

"Thank you, Nicky." It fell quiet between us once again, and I could hear ERRA's set beginning. "Well, I should probably-"

He spoke over me. "Yeah! Those guys put on a great show. Don't miss it!"

I gave him another hug, reveling in how warm he still felt.

Turning to walk away, I stopped, needing one last thing...

"Nick?"

His face turned back to me.

"How is he?"

I could see the sadness fall over his tan features, and I instantly regretted asking.

"He's..." He trailed off, taking in a large breath. "He's different, Y/N. I doubt you'd recognize him."

"How so?"

Something about my question almost seemed to annoy him. Odd?

"Like I said, a lot has changed. He's changed. He had to." He gestured to me. "Same way you did."

I accepted this, not wanting to press any further. "Thanks, Nick."

He pointed a finger at me. "Hey, we're going to be back here in the fall for a couple days. Don't be a stranger, okay?" I grinned at this. "I know Jolly and Folio would kill to see you."

I just nodded, turning and walking away. My eyes met with Ray's, who was standing, watching my interaction. How much had she seen? Did she hear anything?

"Hey, what are you doing? You're missing ERRA!"

Her brows were pulled up suspiciously. "Who was that?" She pointed after Nick, who had now disappeared from the merch table.

I shook my head. "Oh, that guy? He's the bassist in the headliner band."

This wasn't good enough for her, I could tell by the way she pursed her lips. "Uh-huh. And...you just decided to chat him up like old friends?"

I groaned. "Ugh, how long were you standing there?"

She put all her weight on one hip. "Long enough to see you two talking like you've known each other before. Care to explain?"

Raylene was so nosey. She came by it honestly, her father being a police detective. But still, why did this matter?

"It's not a big deal, Ray. I'll tell you later."

I pulled on her arm, trying to lead her back to the concert hall, but she stood firm, eyeing me. I sucked my teeth in frustration.

"Damn it, alright, come here."

She followed me to the doors leading outside, and we stepped into the cool air.

"Alright, look, I've known Nick since I was ten."

Her eyes jumped. "Oh? Back in West Virginia?"

I nodded. "Exactly. I had no idea their band was going to be here."

"Do you know anyone else in the band?"

I glanced around, feeling wildly uncomfortable by the conversation.

"I may know the entire band."

Her eyes exploded, nearly shooting out of her face cartoonistically.

"What?! The whole band?" I just nodded. "Jesus, Y/N. That's insane!"

I giggled. "I guess. It's just a coincidence."

She smiled at me. "Well that's awesome! Do you want to see the rest of them after? They're doing a free merch signing."

Panic filled my chest, and I put a hand out to grab her shoulder. "No, no. I don't, uh..." I tried to keep my voice solid. "I don't keep in touch with them anymore."

Her eyes narrowed. "Oh? Okay, if you're sure." Something in my voice must have made her feel my anxiety.

We turned, ready to make our way back inside.

"It is too bad. The lead singer's a real looker. I heard one of the girls in the crowd say his name was Noah Sebastian? He's pretty cute."

I almost walked straight into the door, my foot banging off of the pillar. Ray turned around to see me, and something about the look on my face made realization flash over her.

"Oh my God, are you ok-" She stopped dead, eyes widening again. "Wait..."

"Ray, don't." I knew what she had figured out.

"Noah..." I put my hands up, glancing around to ensure no one was looking at us. "As in...Noah? Your old best friend?!"

I shushed her harshly. "Please, Ray. I don't want to think about this."

"That's the guy?! Noah Sebastian is the guy that broke your heart?!"

I was going to actually vomit at that.

"Fuck! Can we not?!" I raised my voice, which made her snap her mouth closed. "Besides, I don't know a Noah Sebastian."

She looked confused. "Is that not his real name?"

I rolled my eyes, turning to walk back in. "It's his middle name."

I spaced out most of what was left of ERRA's set, just trying to put the pieces back together in my brain. This night had not turned into what I had hoped.

I just wanted one night, an easy night, to take a deep breath away from my hectic life. Instead, I was reliving some of my most painful memories, and had a headache to go right along with it from the alcohol. My chest vibrated, the bass just making it so much more difficult to focus.

I stood off of the GA floor, near the bar area, not even realizing the band had finished, and people were swarming to grab drinks and use the restrooms before the men of the evening appeared. Ray approached me, another Vodka cran in her hand, and pushed it into mine.

"Here my love, drink this." I took a long gulp of it. "Do you want us to go? We don't have to stay..."

My eyes were fixed on the stage, where I could see people setting up the equipment. "No." I huffed out a breath, and squeezed my cup. "No, I want to see them play, I think."

She raised an eyebrow. "You're sure? This can't be easy for you."

My eyes burned into her face, which almost made her flinch. "I may never get to see him again, Ray. I have to."

She just nodded, arm linking with mine. "You want to watch from up here?"

I nodded, crunching on a piece of ice from my drink. "No chance of him spotting me back here."

She affirmed my request, and leaned back against the wall with me.

I felt my phone vibrate, and I pulled it from my pocket to see Tyler's name on the screen.

Tyler: Hey beautiful! How's the show?

I held my breath. What kind of a question was that?

Me: Fine. Almost over, just one band left.

He didn't take but a minute to respond.

Tyler: Having fun?

Ha, what a joke.

Me: Yeah. I've had some drinks, so it's helping.

Tyler: Well, enjoy it baby! You deserve it.

That wasn't fair. None of it was. Having to see Noah? The fact that I had an amazing guy, who genuinely liked me, who waited for me. But I still couldn't get my mind off of that irritatingly beautiful face about to take the stage.

The lights went down, and I felt myself tense, throwing back the rest of my drink. My teeth were numb, if that made any sense at all. Ray's hand gripped mine tight, holding me up.

A cinematic scene played on the screens, but I wasn't watching, eyes hastily searching the stage.

A tall man, who I instantly recognized as Jolly, stepped center-stage, a guitar in his hand playing the opening riff to the song. It was heavy, deep and soul shaking.

Folio came out next, his face, like Jolly's, covered in a black ski mask.

Nick took his spot, playing his bass tones.

And then, as the opening crescendoed, a voice rang through the speakers.

A voice I'd never forget.

"Can you hear me through the white noise?"

He blasted onto the stage, glory and all, face covered and thick black jacket on his shoulders.

He sounded different. Angry. Raw, Aggressive. The feeling that sank in my stomach pulled me back further against the wall.

The song played through, his words pulsing through my veins.

As quick as it had started, it was over, and we were on to the next.

The next track was calmer, red lights glowing all throughout the stage.

They had all removed their masks, and I saw his face for the first time. He looked so much older, making it difficult for me to believe he was the same person.

The words of the song resonated deep in my thoughts.

"I don't want to know all your secrets, cause I'll tell. It's hard enough being alone with myself. I don't know how long I'll be holding on..."

Breathing deeply, I watched as the crowd moved with the music, electrifying the energy in the room. It was intoxicating.

Noah had changed...

The set played on without hitch, the entire time I caught myself holding in breaths until I felt my lungs nearly bursting. I couldn't take my eyes off of him, feeling the familiar ache beginning to creep back in.

The music stopped, and a bunch of lights came up. By this time, Noah had discarded his jacket, button-up, and only stood in a black tank top, hands wrapped in what looked like boxing wraps?

"Alright, Boston, how we feeling?" His speaking voice even sounded different...

The crowd erupted.

"We are Bad Omens, and we sincerely appreciate you all being here tonight. The next song we are going to play for you all has been the biggest turning point this band has ever seen." I heard the screams, and did my best to tune them out so I could hear his words. "Is anyone familiar with a song called Just Pretend?"

The room rocked with the cheers and chants of the crowd.

"That volume that I just heard? That's the volume I want to hear you sing this with me, okay? Don't worry about trying to hit the perfect note or get all of the words right. It's about us all, being here together tonight."

The music played softly behind him when his lips reached the microphone.

"I can wait for you at the bottom. I can stay away if you want me to. I can wait for years if I gotta. Heaven knows I ain't getting over you..."

My heart twisted in my chest.

"I'm not afraid, of the war you've come to wage against my sins. I'm not okay, but I can try my best to just pretend. So will you wait me out? Or will you drown me out?"

The tears pooled in my eyes. No fucking way. The song played on, mocking me with the lyrics.

"I know the pain that you hide behind the smile on your face. And not a day goes by where I don't think I feel the same."

"We'll try again, when we're not so different. We will make amends, till then I'll just pretend."

My hands came up to cover my face, my lip trembling hard.

"Weigh down on me. Stay till morning. Way down. Would you say I'm worthy?"

I choked on a sob, my legs pushing me forward, and I ran out of the room. I felt my stomach lurching, my mouth clamping closed as I ran toward the bathroom.

I heard Ray chasing behind me. "Y/N! Wait!"

Flying into the bathroom and finding the first open stall, I fell to my knees, emptying the contents of my stomach into the toilet. My hands gripped my hair, tears falling hard down my face.

"Oh God, babe." Ray reached to grab my hair from me as I wretched all of the Vodka out of my stomach, my heart and soul pouring out with it.

When I finished, I let my chest heave with sobs, my hand covering my eyes in ebarrassment.

"Fuck, Ray." I said as I wiped my face with the tissue she handed me. "I've got to get the hell out of here."

She nodded. "Okay, my love. Let's do that."

After a solid twenty minutes of cleaning myself up in the bathroom, we stepped out, noticing the crowd now formed outside, waiting at the table for the band to come out for the signing. Ray was frantically dialing Sean, trying to find him among the sea of people. I just plopped myself down on the floor near the restroom, trying to relax as best as I could.

"Y/N?" I looked up at her. "I have to go find Sean. He isn't answering. Can you wait here for me?"

I just nodded, defeated. She was gone, lost within the abyss of people, and I sat, waiting, head in my hands.

I was pulled out of my stupor by the sound of cheering. The band had come out, all waving and smiling. I didn't even bother chancing a glance at him, for fear I may vomit again.

Ray had not come back yet, despite the four or five texts I had now sent her. I had been waiting for a solid thirty minutes, people watching the line and avoiding seeing his face. The ropes of the line were blocking my view of the faces sitting at the table.

After another fifteen, Ray finally bounded up to me, out of breath, Sean in tow.

"Fuck, I'm so sorry! That crowd is vicious!"

I stood slowly, the room only slightly spinning. I swallowed the dry, disgusting feeling in my throat, and began moving toward the exits that were now mostly clear.

"Let's go." She nodded at me, and took my arm. We had to wait behind several people trying to all get through the same revolving door. My skin felt spiky and cold.

"Hang on! Wait!"

A voice behind me made ice run through my veins, and I closed my eyes, begging whatever God existed to spare me in this moment.

A hand gripped my shoulder, and I tensed, turning my face, and my eyes looked straight at him.

He had spotted me, running from his table to catch me. He had to have been pretty damn sure it was me to chase after me like that. Fans began to crowd us, camera phones coming out, pictures snapping.

The look on his face was much less certain than I expected, as if he possibly made a mistake.

"I'm sorry..." His voice was unsteady. "Do I," He cleared his throat, eyes bouncing back and forth between my own. "know you?"

My eyebrows shot up. He really didn't recognize me?

He thought he did, but now...

"No. I don't think so." I spit out my words, teeth grinding together. It felt exactly the same as the last time I had seen him.

He dropped his hand, eyes still transfixed on mine. "I swore..."

I just turned my body, pressing my way past the gathered crowd, not giving him the chance to think it through.

In the car, I stared out the back window, arms wrapped around myself.

"What did he say, honey?" Ray's voice was so gentle.

"He didn't recognize me. He thought he did, but once he got up close, I guess I look too different." My words were only a peg above a whisper.

"You going to be okay? I don't have to stay at Sean's."

I just wiped the stray tear off of my cheek. "It's fine. I'd rather be alone."

-

A long, scalding shower, two handfuls of shredded cheese, and a solid half-hour crying session later, I was laid catatonically on my bed, eyes staring at the screen as Grey's Anatomy flashed across my screen.

I had blanked my mind out, forcing myself to let the thoughts go for the night. I was too tired and broken to let my heart hurt like this again. It took a solid year to get over Noah enough that I was able to function again. My first year of med school was disappointing, and I didn't make any friends until I made it into the second year. It took me nearly three to start dating.

I couldn't do that again.

I had been ignoring the texts going off on my phone, assuming it was Ray just checking on me for the thousandth time. I did, however, decide to take a look when I heard my ringtone going off.

Who would be calling me at 2AM?

I didn't even bother checking the screen before I put the phone up to my ear, my voice hoarse from crying.

"Hello?"

"What are the odds that you haven't changed your number after all this time?"

I sat bolt upright, my voice catching in my throat. The voice on the other end sounded nearly as wrecked as mine.

"Noah?" It barely came out.

"It's been a long time."

I cleared the newly formed phlegm out of my throat. "It has."

"I knew that was you." It sounded deadly quiet in the background of his end of the line. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming tonight?"

I sighed. "Nick told you?"

"He might've."

I groaned. "Well, I asked him not to."

"Why?"

I scoffed. "What do you mean, why?" I rubbed my eyes. "We're not exactly speaking anymore, Noah."

He hummed. "That's true."

I chewed on my lip, not having any kind of clue of what to say.

"What did you think?"

"Of the show?"

"Mhm."

I sighed. "It was good. Different than what I would have expected."

A soft laugh came through the line. "How so?"

I smiled at that. "It's just a lot different than what I expected your music to sound like."

"In a bad way?"

"No. Not at all."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it." His voice was so serious. So monotone. Nothing at all like what I remembered.

The line fell silent again, and I found this irritating. What was he playing at?

"Why did you call, Noah?"

I heard a breath on the other end, and some rustling. "I don't know."

"Well, maybe you shouldn't have."

"Maybe. I wanted to hear your voice."

My stomach tightened. "Now you have. I should go."

"Wait..." I held the phone firm, waiting. "I want to see you."

My heart pounded. "What?"

"I need to see you." His words were so matter-of-fact.

"I don't think so, Noah. That's not a great idea."

"It's not, but I'm asking..." He sounded so small. "Can I please see you?"

I perused the idea. "When?"

"Now?"

I scrunched up my face, sitting up again. "Now? It's after two in the morning."

"I don't care. I'll come to wherever you are."

This struck me. Maybe he hadn't changed?

"I, uh," I struggled to speak. "Noah, I don't know. I'm at home, it's late. I should be sleeping."

"Y/N?" I stopped, listening. "Please?"

I am a weak woman, and that is just plain fact. I was frantically running throughout the apartment, attempting to tidy any kind of mess I could get my hands on. Ray and I hadn't taken the time to really clean in months, so it was stressing me out. My pajama pants were hanging low on my hips, and I swam in my large sweatshirt.

My hair was falling loose around my face, and I was sure my eyes were puffy from the crying I had done. How insane was I? Had I completely lost it?

It was almost 3AM when a knock came at my apartment door, and I froze in place. What was I doing? Why was I allowing this to happen? I didn't need to do this to myself.

I was fine, living in my normal, tired bubble. I was headed towards a successful career that would take me further than I ever imagined. Why was I allowing this trainwreck of a friendship back into my life? What was I thinking?!

I wasn't. That was the answer to that question.

I opened the door, not sure what to expect on the other side. He stood, still as tall as I remembered, looming in the doorway. He wore a black hoodie, hands tucked neatly in the pocket. Dark blue jeans and black Converse. A white beanie covering his hair.

Like this, he looked almost recognizable. Except for his eyes...

Just like in the photograph I had seen earlier, his eyes were so dark. There was very little life behind them. Deep blue circles hung under the rims, making a pull in my chest show itself.

I just stood, blocking the doorway, hand white-knuckling the frame.

"Hi." Was all he managed. He was staring at me, eyes moving up and down my face as if he was seeing an apparition.

"Hi." I echoed, trying to not feel out of place under his stare.

"I'm glad you agreed to see me." He didn't move an inch, his jaw ticking closed with his last work.

I just nodded, letting out all of my air. "Yeah, well, you were insistent."

He nodded, finally looking away from me and down at the ground.

"I had to."

I pursed my lips, narrowing my eyes. "Did you?" He raised a brow at me. "Did you just have to see me? Because I think we probably would've been alright without it."

I could see his face fall, hurt by what I said, but I didn't care. He never did.

"I'm sorry. I know it's selfish."

"Mm," I pinched my lips together, and opened my door wider. "come in."

I stalked back into the house, not daring to look back at him. I heard the door shut behind me, and I steadied myself, expecting to turn around and see him vanished.

To my chagrin, he was still there.

Deciding not to stagnate, I walked into the kitchen, pulling a bottle of tea from the fridge, and walking back out to the living area. He hadn't moved, and was still staring at me.

"So." I motioned to him. "What can I do for you?"

Noah was so statuesque, as if carved right out of stone. "I don't really know."

My face lifted, a smirk on my lips. "You don't know? Noah," I placed a hand on my hip. "you show up here at 3AM, and you have no idea why?"

He shrugged, eyes begging me for mercy. "I'm sorry. I don't."

"Can you stop apologizing and just tell me why you're here?!" My patience snapped, startling even me.

This took him back, but instead of tucking tail and backing away, he stood straighter, face hardening.

"I can't tell you why I'm here if I don't know, alright?" His words were stern.

"Well you must have some kind of reason? Because this feels wildly unnecessary."

He raised his eyebrows in disbelief. "It is? So you didn't want to see me?"

I set my tea on the coffee table and stood nonchalantly. "Not really."

He narrowed his eyes. "I don't buy it." He took a step toward me, but I stood firm. "If you didn't you wouldn't have stayed, tonight. You would've left after you saw the band your friends went to see."

He was closer now, and it felt like a string had tethered between us, the tension slowly slacking.

"Yeah, well, I wanted to see your set. See how the band was doing."

He snickered at me. "Oh, sure. Of course." His hands finally appeared from his pockets, one running over his chin. "Which song was your favorite?"

Oop. I wasn't expecting that.

"The second one. Villain, or something?"

He nodded. "Like A Villain." Noah's eyes weren't buying it. "Which one did you like least?"

I scoffed. "I don't know, Noah? The first one?"

"Mm, and which one was that?"

I was swallowing the lump in my throat. I couldn't remember, the night blurring together.

"Uh, I don't know the name."

He took a step back, triumphant. "You weren't there for the set. You wanted to see me."

Rolling my eyes, I crossed my arms. "Still as self-absorbed as ever, I see?"

"Am I wrong?"

He had me backed into a corner, and he fucking knew it.

I threw my arms up. "Fine! Maybe I did. But you wanted to see me too."

He sneered at me, venom on his lips. "Obviously, or else I wouldn't be here."

"You still haven't said why."

"Why did you want to see me?"

My voice was raising, frustration growing. "I don't know!"

"I don't know either!" He yelled back at me, and my mouth snapped closed. Noah never raised his voice at me. Not ever.

He took three long strides over to me until he was only stood a foot away.

"I didn't expect to ever see you again, Y/N! I thought you were gone forever! So imagine my surprise when I see you walking out of the House of Blues, and you deny even knowing me!"

I felt like shrinking into a ball right there on the floor, ceasing to exist.

"I wanted to see you because how could I not?! Seven fucking years, Y/N!" He backed down for a second, his breathing becoming ragged. "I've been waiting seven years."

I furrowed my brow. "Waiting?"

"For you to reach out. To tell me you missed me. To give me some kind of indication we could reconcile and be us again."

There was a fire, deep down in my gut, that I had never been able to truly extinguish. A fire Noah had lit years ago. A mine shaft burning like the depths of hell in my belly that I had buried under concrete and therapy, keeping it at bay.

In my apartment, tonight, that fire broke loose. And there was no stopping it.

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" I took a step forward, pressing into his space, index finger jabbing into his chest. "I was supposed to reach out?!"

He took a step back, eyes now full of fear.

"I professed my love to you, Noah! I told you I wanted you, and you fucking left!"

He puffed at me, pointing a finger back at me. "You told me to leave!'

"Yes! Because you told me you didn't love me! You told me you couldn't love me the way I loved you!"

He squeezed his lids shut tight, growling and turning away from me, taking several steps away. His hands came up, gripping the beanie on his head.

"God damn it Y/N!" He turned to look at me, a fiery rage matching my own behind his eyes. "Of course I fucking loved you!"

My heart stopped, completely motionless.

"What?"

"I've always loved you! From the moment I laid fucking eyes on you! I've never loved anyone, no one, the way I loved you!" He charged me, backing me toward the couch. "But I couldn't love you, Y/N! I wasn't good enough. I was a piss-poor high school dropout musician trying to make a name for himself, and, until recently, failing miserably."

I couldn't speak, thoughts racing so fast, I struggled to keep up.

"And you?" He pointed a finger back into my chest. "You were smart, and motivated, and you were going to make something of yourself. I couldn't drag you down with me. I couldn't force you to follow this journey with me. It would've ruined your life!"

My lungs weren't working right, and my hands were shaking. He wasn't actually saying this. I was hallucinating.

"So I left. I left to give you a chance at a real life. Which, evidently, you've managed to build without me." He took a step back, then, dropping his hands. "And I, somehow, without you."

This hurt me, hearing he had managed to become so successful, despite my involvement.

"Noah, I had no idea-"

"No," He cut me off. "you didn't."

I hadn't even caught the tears falling from my eyes, blurring my vision until he was just a watery mess in front of me.

"You didn't need me." I choked out, and he looked directly at me, inquisitively. "You've made it so far. You're a rockstar now, Noah."

He scoffed. "Y/N, you don't get it." He looked away from me, focused on the wall behind me. "I died without you. Something inside of me was lost the day I left, and I never got it back."

"Well, you're successful now, so it can't be so bad, right?"

He snorted, shaking his head. "Success always comes with a price."

My lips were wet with the tears I couldn't hold in, and I couldn't keep my breathing even. I knew he saw it, but hesitated to engage, wanting to keep a wide berth between us. I couldn't take it. It was too much.

Hearing he loved me. Hearing I had been wrong all this time. Hearing that the heartbreak I felt for so long wasn't his fault. He was protecting me, even after all these years.

"Noah?" He chanced a glance at me, and I saw his own eyes sparkling with moisture.

I couldn't take it.

I rushed him, grabbing hold of his shoulder and clinging on, desperate to find relief against him. My lips smashed into his, tearing apart the barrier I had worked so hard to build.

His hands grabbed me, holding me into place against him, his lips melted into mine, returning the kiss fervently. We were hopeless. We were hungry.

My tears didn't stop flowing, emotion pouring out of every pore. My fingers clawed at him, needing to get closer. My hand grabbed the beanie, and pulled it off of his head, his dark hair falling over his eyes. I gripped it at the scalp, trying to pull myself closer.

Feeling what I was attempting to do, his hands lifted me by the back of my legs, so I could wrap them around his midsection. I refused to disconnect the kiss, breathing in his soul. It was so real and so familiar. How I missed it like hell.

His legs carried us to the couch, where he sat us down. My legs straddled him, and I finally pulled away to tug at the sweatshirt he wore. He made quick work of pulling it up over his head while I did the same with my own. Reconnecting our lips, my hands wandered over his neck and chest, scratching at the fabric of his shirt.

His teeth caught my bottom lip, and I moaned into his mouth. His fingers pulled at the waistband of my pajama pants, and I lifted myself enough to slip them off, replacing myself on his lap. His jeans were already getting tighter as his hands smoothed up and down my thighs.

"Fucking hell." He looked down, staring at my bare breasts in front of him. "These got bigger, huh?"

I laughed, taking a deep breath. "Yeah, well, things change."

His fingers gripped around my left breast, lips falling to circle around the hardened nipple. I let my head fall back, relishing in the warm feeling spreading throughout my body.

"Still so fucking beautiful, just like I remember." I pulled at the hair on the back of his neck. "Did you miss me, baby girl?"

I ground my hips down against him in response. His hand began playing with the button of his jeans, and I moved it away to open them myself.

I stood up to pull his jeans down to his knees, his boxers bulging in the crotch.

"Oh, fuck." I sighed out. "Yeah, I missed you."

His smile then was devious, some of that regular spark shining back in his eyes. "Then show me, huh?"

Reaching into the opening of his underwear, I pulled his cock free, taking a moment to remember just how large it was. It had been a very long time since I had seen anything quite that impressive. Dipping my head down, I licked a long stripe up the shaft, lingering on the head to gather the precome leaking out.

"Holy shit." His head fell back on the couch, his eyes rolling back with it. "Mm, do that again, please?"

I smirked, looking up at him. "Only since you asked so nicely."

My tongue repeated the movement, drawing out a hard groan out of him, his legs twitching. "Fuck yeah, baby."

Without warning, I wrapped my lips around him and swallowed him as far down as my throat would allow, gagging on the tip as it struck my tonsils. His hips jolted upward, effectively fucking my throat.

"Please, Y/N, I won't last that way." He begged, his words only coming out as breaths. "I need to feel you, please."

He was begging, and I couldn't resist it. I needed him too.

I stood back up, and kneeled on either side of him, carefully lining him up with my entrance. When I sunk down, that delicious burn pierced through me, and my body collapsed onto him at the intensity of it.

"Noah, oh my God." He ran a hand up my back, allowing me a moment to adjust.

"I know, baby. I know." He soothed me, rubbing small circles into my skin.

My hips stuttered forward, needing to feel the friction. His hand reached down to grab my ass, and lifted me upward. Without warning, his hips snapped forward and fucked into me, making a sharp scream leave my lips.

My face rested on his chest, whimpers falling from my throat with each hard thrust.

"Fuck, you missed me, pretty girl?" He was panting between his words, his rhythm picking up speed. "Missed the way I fuck you?"

My eyes were rolling back, the tears from before now replaced with tears of raw pleasure.

"I'll bet you've never been fucked like this, huh?" His words were just tones of desire playing in my ears, his cock absolutely destroying me. "No one can fuck you like I can, baby. No one."

My nails dug hard into his shirt, begging for release.

"Let me know when you come, baby. Not finishing until you do."

Luckily for him, I was riding the edge so hard it was making the room spin. Biting my lip to keep from screaming, I lifted myself to look at his face.

"Noah," I searched his eyes, his hips not faltering. "I love you."

He grit his teeth, trying to focus on me and his hips at the same time. "I love you, too. So fucking much."

My face fell back down, landing on the side of his neck. "I'm going to come. Please, Noah, I'm so close..."

He, somehow, managed to pump into me harder, sending my body over the cliff and into the warm waves of my orgasm. My body went slack against him as my walls pulsed around his length.

I heard him curse, and his hips stilled. I felt him spasming inside me, and silently thanked myself for my IUD.

We laid that way, sweaty and heaving, for a solid ten minutes before either of us could find the strength to move. I slipped him out of me, and sat up to look at him. He looked absolutely wrecked, in the best possible way.

I smiled, feeling a warmth spread over me.

"Hi." Was all I could manage.

He chuckled tiredly. "Hi."

-

After our excursion, Noah and I had taken a few minutes to clean up, and, being as exhausted as you'd expect, decided to lay together for a while.

He told me he had to leave within a few hours to get back to his hotel, heading to the next city bright and early, so I told him I'd stay up until he had to leave.

However, in my bed, his arms wrapped tightly around me, his voice whispering sweet words in my ears, I struggled to remain conscious.

"Do you remember when I bought you that Oasis album for your fourteenth birthday? That was basically me professing my love to you."

"I was such an idiot. I should've just told you."

"You have no idea how much I've missed you. I don't think you'll ever understand."

"I'm so sorry. I wish things were different..."

And that's how I woke up, light in my bedroom far too bright, and my bed empty.

I don't know what I expected? For him to stay? Fuck off his tour to make up for lost time with me?

But still, my chest stung when I saw he had left, but I wasn't surprised.

Something had changed last night, and the darkness that lingered in the depths of my being had lifted, leaving me with a sense of hope I hadn't felt before.

When I had woken for the day, clearing the cobwebs from my eyes, I contemplated my next move. He had surely left town already, but that didn't mean I couldn't keep in touch, right?

Pulling out my phone, I found his contact, and opened a text thread.

Me: Hey, call me when you can. I think we have a lot to talk about. :)

I set my phone down on the bathroom counter, preparing to brush my teeth when my phone dinged, and the notification told me the text had failed.

Odd?

I resent it, getting the same response.

Why would my messages fail? I paid my bill, right?

Quickly dialing Ray's number, I held the phone to my ear and heard the ringing, so I knew my service was fine. Giving her a quick apology for waking her, I hung up, and went back to my texts.

His number was the same, right?

I went back to my call logs, seeing it was his number that called me last night, so it was the same as it had always been.

So...what the hell?

My finger hovered over the number for a moment, and I weighed the options before finally resolving to just call him. Make sure I wasn't losing my mind.

I held the phone to my face as I started brushing my teeth, waiting for the call to connect.

"The number you have reached is not in service. If you feel you have reached this message in error, please hang up and try your call again."

[planchettewrites]

I'm Just Half Alive (In my Struggle to Survive Without You) - NSFW

Remy LeBeau (Gambit)/ AFAB!Reader

DESCRIPTION: It's your first night as Mrs. Remy Etienne LeBeau, and your new husband cannot wait to show you how much he adores you.

CONTENT: SMUT, Protected Sex (Always Wrap it Before you Tap It), Praise Kink (?), M!Overstimulation, AFAB Reader, She/Her Pronouns Used, French Used

A/N: This was a labor of love! I wrote this over two days, and I've only been in the X-Men fandom for three days. I immediately fell in love with Gambit and then found out there were so few fanfics of him. I decided to change that. My two song inspirations were "My Way of Life" by Frank Sinatra and "Life Eternal" by Ghost. Enjoy bbys! If you like this fic, reblogs are very much appreciated, as are likes and comments.

3.3K words | Minors DO NOT INTERACT

You smile as you look in the mirror. Today was arguably the best day of your life—you just became Mrs. Remy Etienne LeBeau, and nothing made you happier. 

Your wedding was exquisite. It occurred in one of the most beautiful venues in the French Quarter of New Orleans; the hall was rather large and historical. The hall was decorated with your favorite flowers—those your now husband had given you on your first date. The chandeliers in the building were all lit with candles that perfectly illuminated and complimented the ceremony. Your dress was similarly exquisite, and your closest friends were helping you pick it out. It was exactly what you wanted, and it fit absolutely perfectly—all with the help from the tailor’s shop, but that was beside the point. 

A majority of you and Remy’s coworkers and friends were there, even a sparse few from his days in the Thieves Guild. You were thrilled: everyone who loved you and Remy supported you on your big day. 

The ceremony was gorgeous. Filled with tears from both the guests and the wedding party, you two exchanged your vows. You spent about five minutes saying your vows to one another, making the other sob in the process. You did your best to speak some Cajun French in your speech, making Remy cry harder. Your husband wasn’t one to let his bravado falter, but seeing him in happy tears made you melt. You looked at your guest when he began to cry, and some of the toughest X-Men you knew were similarly in tears. In your vows, you both promised to share the rest of your beautiful, chaotic lives with each other, and come what may, your love will never falter. You two were bonded in holy matrimony; nothing could change that. 

Your first kiss as husband and wife was something you’d never forget. You both had practiced that dip for the past three months and had pulled it off perfectly. Of course, your husband, being your husband, kissed you harder and longer than you anticipated, which made your head spin and your heart soar. Walking back down the aisle, nearly dancing the whole way down, had suddenly made all the stress of planning the wedding worth it. 

The reception was a mere two hours ago, and it was a whirlwind of laughter, happiness, dance, and minor chaos. Your first dance was to “My Way of Life” by Frank Sinatra, and if the two of you weren’t looking lovingly at each other while dancing, one or the other was murmuring the words under their breath. That song perfectly encapsulated how you two felt about each other: you were each other’s way of life. Each day, you awoke to live, eat, and breathe each other. In some ways, you felt you were made for each other. As you were dancing, your bodies fit together like puzzle pieces, your arms wrapped around his neck and his around your waist. 

After your first dance and the further rupture of applause and tears, Remy and you began to socialize with family and friends. Ever the charmer your husband was, recounting the stories to your family and friends of how we knew you were the one the moment your eyes locked. Some of the telepathics in your reception had told you not a single lie was spoken by your husband; he meant every single word he said. 

Now, there you were, looking into the mirror of the hotel you two stayed at. The two of you spared no expense regarding your honeymoon, and you both wanted to make sure it was as memorable as possible. 

The black velour robe you wore kept you comfortable as you took all the pins and accessories from your hair. The kind ladies doing your hair certainly knew what they were doing, but they sure had put a lot of bobby pins in your hair. As you recounted the night in your head as the final pin came out, a satisfied sigh escaped your lips. 

As if right on cue, your husband walked into the room, two champagne glasses in hand. “Joie de vivre,” he said to himself. You turned around to face him, a large smile growing on your face. Remy looked divine, with a white suit that fit him perfectly, your favorite flower on his lapel, and his hair tied back. You always thought your husband looked wonderful but particularly good in a three-piece suit. “Ma chérie, you look as beautiful as always.”

“Thank you, my dear.” you smiled as he handed you the glass of champagne. As you sipped, you watched your husband remove his jacket and put it in the closet, placing the flower on the bed’s side table. His movements were smooth like his words, and you heard him sing one of the songs from the reception under his breath. “How’s it going, sweetheart?” you ask him. 

Remy responded in his native tongue: “C’est tout un sucre, chérie. Happier than I’ve ever been.” He waltzes over to you and presses a kiss to the top of your head. 

“I love you, Remy.” you place your hand on his cheek, stroking it gently. 

“I love you too, darlin’.” he smiles. 

This was happiness—absolute happiness. Nothing felt more right than this; this was perfection. Here you were with the love of your life, and he was with his. 

“Now, chérie, you look absolutely stunning,” his charming timbre weakens your knees. His hands fell to your shoulders and ran up and down your arms. “And I think I need some alone time with my wife.” 

You show him a coy smile. “Your wife? Hmm…I think I can make that happen.”

As you sit up from your chair, Remy guides you to the large bed against the wall’s middle. The bed was easily a California King with beautiful black sheets and a duvet cover. Remy guided you to lie down, and you looked at him with a dorky look. Remy was gorgeous, with his red and black eyes, chestnut hair, and body built like Adonis himself. 

“What you smilin’ at, ma chérie?” he laughed, his hands finding your waist.

“You!” you gush. “You’re just so handsome, and kind, and brave, and…and really fucking sexy.”

He laughs again and begins to fiddle with the tie of your robe. “You think Gambit is sexy? Well, you’re a sight, too, doll.”After a look of silently asking to undress you, you nodded. As he undid your robe, he smiled when he saw what was underneath—a breathtaking lingerie set. The set was a bit more expensive than you were willing to spend, but you knew that some sacrifices needed to be made for your wedding. “You’re tryin’ to kill Gambit aintcha?”

“Maybe.” you laughed, propping yourself up to fully strip yourself of the robe. You watched as your husband began to unbutton his dress shirt, slowly and precisely, and never breaking eye contact. You knew your husband too well at this point—he was teasing you. He attempted to test your patience, and simultaneously, he gave you a show. You could feel your cheeks flush. Something about your husband made him impossible to resist—whether it was that Louisiana charm or his general personality, something about him beckoned you like a siren song. 

As the dress shirt hit the ground, Remy reached for your hands, helping you stand. He spun you around gently, getting a good look at your body in that clearly expensive white set. He wolf-whistled, which made you giggle. “Damn, chérie, you’re gonna be lucky if I don’t rip that off of ya.”

As you finally faced him, you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed your husband. These types of kisses felt like fireworks—maybe it was the slight kinetic energy that always radiated from Remy, or perhaps it was just the product of your love. If you had to guess, it was probably a mix of both. 

His hands fell to your waist, and he swiftly picked you up and placed you back on the bed. His lips traveled from yours to your neck, kissing at the crook of your neck to that sensitive spot he learned early on. Letting out a quiet moan, you could feel his smirk on your neck as he continued pressing kisses there. His hands explored your body freely, from massaging your perfect breasts to gently squeezing your thighs. The journey of his hands ended at the hem of your panties, a silent plea to let him take them off of you. Your response to that silent plea was another nod, and suddenly, your husband was off your neck and on his knees. 

Your husband did the hard work of spreading your legs for you, giving him a perfect view of your pussy. He licked his lips and smiled. “Bon appétit.” He pressed a lingering kiss to your knee before working down your thigh. Wrapping his arms around your thighs, he began to lap at your cunt with the vigor of a man starved. You let out a loud and staggered breath as your husband pulled his tongue from your entrance to your folds. He continued this movement until your breaths became ragged enough to where he decided it would be a good time to suck at your clit. 

“God, you’re so fucking gorgeous.” He paused for a second to say–almost as if he were saying it to himself and dived back into your core. You let out a deafening whine as he lapped at your clit, then sucked it particularly hard. 

He noticed your hips begin to buck at no discernible rhythm, and if there was one thing your husband was during sex, it was a talker. His thumb replaced his tongue, rubbing your clit in tight circles. “You like that, ma charmante?” your hips bucked against his fingers, and you let out a loud moan. “That’s it. Show me what you got, chérie. Work yourself on my fingers.”

“Shit!” you moaned. Your movements were becoming jerky—you were close. Remy immediately went back to lapping at your cunt, his finger making its way into your walls. Within seconds, you let out a moan you were sure the other patrons of the hotel could hear. 

You were practically dry-heaving, and within seconds of removing himself from your thighs, you pressed a heavy kiss to Remy’s lips. Your hands cupped his face, and one of his hands went to the small of your back. 

“God, Remy…” you heaved. Part of you couldn’t even form a sentence. You felt euphoric. Remy was always good with his tongue, both in his words and in his skills. 

“Yes, chérie?” Remy smiled. He was thoroughly enjoying this. You learned over the years that his pleasure came from your pleasure. You saw that in the way he’d do anything to make you laugh, you saw that in the way that he would cook for you, and you saw that in the way that sexually, your pleasure came first. 

“Remy, I need you.”

“Then take what is yours, darlin’.” 

You stood up carefully—your legs feeling like jelly—and pressed hard kisses to his lips. Dropping to your knees, you began to expertly unbuckle the oversized belt buckle of your husband’s belt. You place one hand on your husband’s large thigh as if to keep yourself steady. You could feel your mouth water at the thought of sucking his cock. You look up at him, your eyes meeting his. You begin to toy with his erection, palming him over his dress pants. As you finish unbuckling this belt, Remy slides his pants and underwear down to his ankles, swiftly kicking them off. 

You begin to move your hand up and down his shaft, hearing him let out a groan. A few strokes later and you lower your mouth onto his cock. You use your tongue to lick around the tip of his cock, and you lower yourself and take more of him into your mouth. He lets out a moan as you bob your head up and down on his shaft, taking as much of him as you could. You hollowed your mouth to create a light suction, which made your husband see stars. 

Remy finds his hands in your hair, letting you set your own pace. As you continued to worship his cock with your tongue, he began to blab. “Tu te sens si bien, chérie. So fucking good. Keep going…just like that. Fuck, keep going.”

As you swirl your tongue around the head of his cock one more time, he ruffles your hair. “Ma charmante et talentueuse femme, I need to fuck you.” he groaned. 

With a pop, you remove yourself from his cock with a devious smile on your face. “I’m all yours, Remy.” 

He guides you to the bed again and smacks your ass playfully. You turn to swat at him, and he laughs gently. You almost want to cry; you’re so happy. You are married to the love of your life; it’s your wedding night, and you are spending it with the man you love more than anything. Now, you were having your first night as husband and wife—you couldn’t be happier. As you find the headboard, you lean back and bend your knees, spreading your legs. You were on full display for your husband; by the looks of it, he certainly wasn’t complaining. 

“Hold on, ma chérie, one moment.” Remy started to search through the side table drawer, where he found what he was looking for: the box of condoms. You watched as he rolled the condom onto his cock, and you smiled to yourself. Remy had always been one for condoms; even times when you just wanted him to fuck you raw, he would kiss your hand and promise to always take care of you first. 

Crawling onto the bed, your husband towered over you, moving to hover above you. You looked up at him, your eyes full of need and lust. He pressed another kiss to your lips as he guided the head of his cock to your entrance. He moves his hips forward, and inch by inch, you begin to take him. You both moan at the feeling of euphoria. 

Remy continues to push his hips forward, beginning to rock in and out of you. He moves his hips slowly and deeply, as he prefers, to feel all of you as you take him. For the first time since your first dance, you feel your eyes well with tears. Remy is quick to catch onto this and stops his movements entirely. “Oh babydoll, what’s wrong?” 

“I’m just,” you start, “so happy to be yours, Remy.”

“Oh, these are happy tears!” he coos and places his hand on your cheek and the other on the headboard. He continues his ministrations in your cunt, feeling how you take him so, so well. You feel so full, and despite being with Remy for this long, you don’t think you’d ever get accustomed to this feeling. His cock is nestled between your walls, and each thrust urges you closer to an orgasm. 

Heat coils in your lower stomach as Remy thrusts into you, and for not the last time that evening, he talks you through the feeling. “Oh, ma femme, ma magnifique femme, you take me so well. And I love you, I love you so fucking much.”

“I’ve only been yours, love, and I’ll be yours for the rest of time.” you moan, repeating his sentiments out loud. 

“Damn straight. It sounds good coming from your lips. Gambit was gonna make you his, even when he first met you.” he groaned, the smirk on his face returning. “And I’ll be yours for the rest of time.”

You wrap your legs around your husband’s waist, letting him hit that spongy spot inside of you. His thrusts are starting to become faster, and with each thrust, he bucks his hips to ensure he is fully sheathed inside you. You’re close, so, so incredibly close. 

You yelp, “Fuck, Remy, I’m close, I’m really, really close.”

“Me too, darlin’.” he groans. His hand falls to your waist, and he begins to thrust far more erratically. He fucks you into him, slamming into you, causing you to moan his name. Loud. 

You’re nearly dry-heaving again as he fucks you. That heat in your stomach that had turned into a coil had started to unwind. You were coming close to another orgasm. 

“Fuck—I’m coming, shit!” Remy groans. Although, his pace doesn’t relent as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm.

Your legs tighten around him as that coil becomes completely undone. “Remy, shit, God, I love you. I love you so fuckingmuch. I am so fucking happy to be your wife! I can’t wait to make you a family!” you pant, your finish further slicking the space between you. 

“I love you so much. More than you know…and, and, I’ll love you forever, chérie!” His voice was shaky and erratic as he overstimulated himself to rock you through your orgasm. 

As you both begin to still, your breath erratic, you grab hold of him and just let his weight crash onto you. He buries his face in your shoulder, and you hear him let out a sigh. He mutters something to himself in his native tongue and presses a light kiss to your neck. You can hear him mutter one thing as he pushes himself upwards: “I love you.”

He nearly projects himself to your side, grabbing your hand and gently kissing your palm. “You’re my world. You truly are.” 

“I mean every word I said,” you murmured, so breathless you could barely speak, “I am really so happy to be your wife.”

“And I’m happy to be your husband.” he smiled, turning to face you. You pressed a gentle kiss to his lips and smiled. You were happy, and now you get to look forward to an eternity with the man you loved. Come what may, no matter how big or small, you would have Remy by your side. And that was going to be your way of life. 

[impactedfates]

are we gonna get argenti hcs anytime soon 😍😍 lmk lil bro

★ A/N: Argenti, my bby, my everything. My husband <33 I have a good few HCs of him so here's a list :>

☆ Genre/Trope: Fluff

★ Format: HeadCannons

☆ Warnings: Slight spoilers for Argentis companion quest

★ Extra: Most are romantic HCs // I love this man smsm // Mainly romantic HCs

Definitely compliments you a ton, like he knows exactly what to say to make you feel good about yourself and how to make you feel loved. However if you do the same back, although he thanks you. Deep down he's a flustered mess.

He's so devoted to Idrila that I feel he's not one to easily be swayed to fall for someone, so when he DOES. You know damn well he's deep in love.

He'll do the classical gentlemanly things like hold open the door for you, pull out a chair for you, kiss your hand. And if you want to be held? He'll do it.

Writes you poetry, and it's the most sickly sweet thing ever, you'd almost want to cringe in embarrassment but at the same time the words written on the page are so cute you likely can't help but find it endearing.

If perhaps you stay on the one planet, and not adventure with him on the 'One and Only' expect at least weekly visits and letters sent to you written in gold ink <33 He wants to show you he's okay and well and wants to check on you as well.

If you do go with him however, then he'll be extremely happy to have the love of his life join him on his search for Idrila - he'll be the one steering the ship, however he is more then happy to have you in the same room as he drives.

We know he's not selfish, how he's willing to risk his life to save just about anyone no matter what, no matter how long he's known them. And every time he comes out safe, he seeks you out to ensure he's safe and sound. (He will NOT allow you to join him in these situations - He's okay with himself getting hurt but will NEVER let you get hurt, aeons forbid)

So gentle and so delicate. Even in arguments which you'll inevitably have. No matter what it is, even if it's about his devotion to Idrila and how he still searches. He'll be so gentle and soft spoken, will never raise his voice at you. He'll always listen to your side and calmly explain his and in the end, the arguments always end on good terms <33

Love languages are so many. Like, I think he shows love in all the 5. As said, he's good at complimenting you and reassuring you (Words of Affirmation)

He's a knight so ofc he'll do things for you, like get you a blanket if you perhaps fell asleep at a desk or make you tea (Acts of Service)

He loves spending time with you, I mean, he holds you to the same regard as he does Idrila - he wants to be with you as much as he can (Quality Time)

Anytime he leaves to do something on a planet, even if you come with. You bet you're gonna have something you eyed with admiration even once in your hands or that you mentioned liking to have (Gift Giving)

He would absolutely love cuddling and holding you. And he's more then happy to kiss you anywhere you want, just say the word. (Physical Touch)

In the end, whichever you enjoy the most/love receiving the most will be the one he does more often if he knows - talking about love languages, I think he enjoys receiving Quality Time and Acts of Service

VERY supportive of your talents, if you like drawing? He's hanging each one on a wall. You like writing? Great! He could use a bed time story, singing? He'll listen to you for as long as he can.

He'll let you style his hair or just run your fingers through it if it calms you down, just try not to tug it if he's steering the ship. He needs to concentrate properly!

You wanna cuddle? You got it! His body is like a human radiator. Is it a hot day? Boom, he's like your own large freezer that you can cuddle. It's a cold day? Human heater, and he's more then happy to help you cool down or heat up.

Sometimes, if he's feeling tired or anything and is just sitting down to rest. He likes staring at you, lovingly and if you catch his eye and smile at him? A e o n s it's like he fell in love all over again. You're able to make his tiredness seemingly go away.

Marriage isn't a thought that comes to him, it's not that he doesn't want to but he wishes to find Idrila first before that. It's a big step in your relationship after all - however if years go on and you two are still happily dating but he still hasn't found the goddess? He might consider marrying you if you wish.

I feel like he paints, is he good? Maybe not, but you'll find a collection of paintings that's just you or you and him that he keeps safe. He will not loose those.

Very happy he came home. I also have his lightcone!! He did nearly 3 million ult rjpgdnwrb (w/o LC. I didn't have it at the time of that dmg)

He is my everything, my bby, I'd do anything for him <;33

[babyjakes]

a diamond's gotta shine.

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event | kinkmas 2023

prompt | toys

pairing | soft!daddy!lloyd hansen x little!reader

warnings | ddlg (daddy!lloyd, little!reader.) super soft!daddy!lloyd, just how we like him! butt plug (and me not knowing shit about luxury brands lol.) reader has an oral fixation; sucking and licking. anal prep/fingering/stretching. clit rubbing <3. mostly praise and encouragement. an orgasm as reward, yay!! implied aftercare. err hints at exhibitionism later? idk just to be safe.

word count | 1,425

an | this wasn't really the plan for this prompt originally, but i woke up today and decided i wanted a fic of lloyd gifting reader a luxury butt plug so we're just rolling with it lol. this one's dedicated to my sweet sweet angel sabby @hansensgirl hope you're well bby, and happy holidays to you!! <33

"C'mon, princess. Up on my desk."

Lloyd was gently nudging you toward the large surface, which he had suspiciously cleared off from its usual state of mild disarray. You lifted a curious brow at the broad man, earning a pearly grin as he gently stepped in to sweep you up in his arms. Lifting you effortlessly onto the desktop, he set you down with care, as if you were the most delicate and precious thing in the world. He trailed a playful hand up your thigh, fingertips teasing at your skin through the silky fabric of your nylons. "Daddy," you hummed eagerly, letting out a soft squeak as he gently pinched at your tender flesh.

"Panties off, baby. Lay back for me," Lloyd instructed steadily. And he sure as hell didn't have to ask twice.

As you moved quickly to remove and discard your hose and panties, you couldn't help but try to sneak a peek at what your daddy was up to as he made his way to the other side of the desk, opening up a drawer and pulling something out discreetly. He then strode over to one of the couches in the middle of his office, grabbing a few throw pillows before returning to you. "Here you go, angel. Let's get you nice and comfy," he murmured, propping you up with the pillows supporting your back.

"Daddy," you whined again, a hint of neediness now present in your voice. Lloyd smiled as he brought up the gift to finally show you; the contents of his hands made you gasp. A beautiful plug, shiny gold, with a stunning ring of crystals embedded along the base. "Oh Daddy," you breathed, unable to take your eyes off the glittering piece.

"Genuine Winstons," Lloyd told you proudly, taking a small bottle of lube from his pocket and placing it on the desk beside you. "Only the best for my princess, of course."

"So pretty, Daddy," you remained in awe, earning a loving chuckle from the man as he watched you be entranced by the gift.

"I'm glad you think so, sweetheart. Now be a good girl and open up for Daddy, need you to get this nice and wet for me while I'm prepping you." He teased the tip of the plug against your glossy lips, guiding one of your hands up to hold the base. You sucked and licked happily at the metal's impressive curve as Lloyd got to work between your legs.

He parted your feet, bending your knees up to lie at either side of you as your dress slipped up easily in cooperation with his efforts. Pausing, he took a moment to revel in the sight of you. His gaze fell to your perfect folds as they sat before him on display. With a low hum of approval, he brought a gentle hand up to smear your wetness around teasingly. "Look at you, already getting wet for Daddy. That's my good girl," he smiled as he brought a finger down to begin gently prodding at your tighter little hole.

Still working the toy you'd been given between your pouty lips, you let out a whimper at your daddy's tentative nudges. You gasped softly at the feeling of a cold glob of lube being dripped onto you. Heat rose up through your cheeks in slight humiliation as the slippery mess was worked thoroughly over your puckered rosebud. "Okay baby," Lloyd hummed encouragingly, "time to open up this pretty little hole. Are you gonna be good for Daddy and take it?" You offered the sweetest nod you could manage, earning a beaming grin from the mustached man. "Of course you are. My sweet little girl," he crooned lovingly, giving no further warning before starting to push his first digit past your difficult outer ring.

You squirmed gently, big pleading eyes looking up at Lloyd as you let out a weak whine. "Hmmph... Daddy..." your voice wobbled.

The tall man brought his unused arm up to stroke back your hair in a calming manner. Furrowing his brow in gentle concern, he did his best to soothe you. "Shhh, my love," he cooed as his large finger worked up to the first knuckle, then the second, gradually stretching out your sensitive walls. "That's it, see? Nice and gentle. Look so pretty like this, taking Daddy's fingers up your sweet little bottom. My pretty girl," he kissed your forehead, holding you steady as he began introducing a second finger.

It was a slow, steady process; Lloyd knew that it had to be. He rarely played with you like this, mostly due to how much you struggled to take anything up your poor little ass. But he hoped that getting you a toy like this might help you adjust to the unfamiliar sensations; you had discussed prior that you'd like to do some proper anal training and play. Needless to say, you both felt this was the perfect first step in that endeavor.

Once you were comfortably and confidently taking two fingers, Lloyd finally felt ready to transition you over to your shiny new toy. "That's it, sweetheart. Fuck, so perfect for me," he was chuckling as your hips bucked up to meet his hand, his digits driving steadily into you. Much of the initial discomfort was gone, replaced with the most deliciously sinful burn blooming in the base of your tummy. Your eyes were shining with pride as you looked up hopefully at your daddy. Kissing your forehead again, Lloyd nodded as he slowed his fingers to a stop, retrieving the now-soaking plug from your drooling lips.

"Okay princess. Here we go-" You hummed eagerly as the tip of the gold bulb was rubbed up against your slippery opening. Lloyd surprised you a bit by bringing his free hand up to gently dip into your leaking pussy; much to your daddy's delight, you had made quite the mess during his generous preparation period. He dragged his fingertips up further, liberally smearing your glistening arousal over your clit to coax the tiny pearl out from under its protective hood with his expert touch. Your knees were trembling as he began working the nub in steady circles, while finally beginning to ease the large plug up into your awaiting walls.

"O-oh my- Daddy," you mewled as the warm, slick piece of metal stretched you out across its broad curvature. At its widest circumference, the object's insertion was bordering on painful. Lloyd's eyes never left you as he did his best to rub your clit faster, hoping the added stimulation would help ease the burn.

"Almost there baby, almost there," he promised, letting out a breath of relief in tandem with your own as you finally made it past the peak, the rest of the toy slipping perfectly into its place with little effort. As the glittering base nestled itself between your smooth cheeks, Lloyd looked on in pleasure and pride. "There," he hummed lowly, gently giving the center a few taps, earning the sweetest little whimpers from you. "What do you think, angel? Has someone earned an orgasm?"

His pace was quickening over your clit before you could even process his words. Hands flying down to grip the edges of the desk below you, you nodded desperately. "Y-yes Daddy, please Daddy!"

Your daddy smiled as he continued his steady rubbing, finding your sweet spot with ease. It wasn't long before you were reaching up to cling to his sturdy arm, your breaths stuttering as you chased your release. "That's it, baby. Go ahead and come for me. Been such a brave girl for Daddy," the man allowed, nodding as your high ripped through you.

"Daddy, o-oh Daddy! Aahhh-" you cried, the plug lurching within you as your poor little cunt clenched down on nothing. You were carried lovingly through your high, Lloyd's fingers only slowing as your spasms and contractions finally began to cease.

"That's my girl," he murmured gently, reaching up to brush your hair back out of your face as he gave your pussy and puffy button a few playful pats. "Now what d'you say we get you cleaned up, huh princess?" You were too weak to respond, only managing a lazy nod as you slumped against the pillows behind you, struggling to catch your breath.

He moved from your side momentarily to grab a cloth from one of the desk drawers. "Oh, but sweetheart- the toy stays in," he informed you with a wink. "We're having guests over later; Daddy wants his pretty girl to shine."