#missing posts is easy so if you want me in your notifs about when i upload writing. yeah just gimme a shout.

[lavnderwonu]

the boy next door | jeon wonwoo

pairing: idol!boyfriend!wonwoo x fem!reader

genre: secret relationship, established relationship, smut

summary: sneaking around with your secret boyfriend.

warnings: smut (!!!), little plot lol, wonwoo as your secret boyfriend, softdom! wonwoo, wonwoo is hot (yes that's a warning), mirror sex (kinda?), pet names (baby), praise kink, size kink AHEM, clitoral stimulation, fingering, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, creampie, reader has to be quiet, hint at another round.

word count: 1.9k

author’s note!: when i tell you this concept has been on my mind for weeks... i'm not lying. the wonwoo brainrot was hitting HARD when i was writing this. i was originally going to make it a secret situationship but im a #1 hater of that whole thing so relationship it is. plus i just think it'd be hot. who wouldn't want wonu as their secret boyfriend? anyway, let me know what you think, i appreciate feedback! 🩷

click here to join my taglist!

Your phone buzzes on your nightstand as you’re in your bathroom, going through your night time routine, just like any other night. As soon as you make it to your phone, it’s stopped ringing. Unlocking it, you see a notification.

Wonwoo

Missed Call

Your boyfriend. Well, only you knew he was your boyfriend, anyway. Although you’d be lying if you never posted any “soft launches” of you two, whether it was an extra iced americano on your counter, or a very obvious mystery man driving while you sat in the passenger seat.

Before you can even call him back, he’s already texting you.

Wonwoo: are you awake? Wonwoo: i saw your story earlier. you looked nice.

You went out earlier in the day to run your usual errands, which usually consisted of shopping of some sort, then wandering around a bookstore. You threw on a cute floral mini dress, and for good measure, you promptly decided to take a picture in your full-body mirror hoping a certain someone would see.

You laugh to yourself, typing out a reply.

you liked it? well you’re too late. i’m in my pajamas now.

It was only 11:30 pm, so maybe it was a tad early for pajamas for some. But for all you know he was probably in sweats playing some game on his phone or reading a book.

Wonwoo: i don’t care, you always look pretty baby Wonwoo: come over here

He lived down the hall from you, with his roommate and best friend, Mingyu. His apartment was easy access, but pretty risky if Mingyu was there, so usually Wonwoo would just come over to yours.

You're about to ask is mingyu there? until he answers the question before you even finish typing.

Wonwoo: mingyu’s gone

You bite your lip, typing a reply. Fuck, you can’t say no.

on my way

You toss your phone on your bed, quite literally, quickly getting yourself ready, you decide to put on your favorite lavender-colored bra and matching panties underneath your pajamas you already had on. Your favorite color; and a different variation of his.

Going down the hall from your apartment, you reach his door, quickly knocking a few times before he answers.

“I thought you were joking when you said you were in pajamas,” Wonwoo jokes, examining you as you walk in. “You were serious.”

“Shut up, it was getting late.” You blush, as you damn near fight the urge to jump him, cause damn. He looks too good, even in a hoodie and sweatpants.

“You look cute,” He pulls you close to him, his fingers sliding underneath your shirt to grip your waist. “Can’t wait to take them off…”

You lean into him, fingers lightly threading through his hair that’s gotten so much longer recently.

“How much time do we have?”

“Hours.” Wonwoo responds, confident. “Mingyu said he was going out with Jungkook, they’ll probably be out half the night drinking.”

His hands slowly slide up your back, sending your heart thrumming in your chest, you’re unable to deny the effect he has on you.

You both know you’d eventually have to go public with your relationship, but for now, you’d just enjoy the adrenaline rush you get everytime you’re alone together.

You make it to his bedroom, in a heated kiss, you back away to safely removing his glasses and placing them on his nightstand.

Kneeling on his bed in front of him, you quickly tug at the hoodie he has on. “Off.” You order him, and he obeys, pulling it over his head.

He tosses to the floor, before kissing you again, his hands slide up your shirt, groping your breasts lightly through your bra, making you softly moan against his lips. He breaks the kiss and his lips softly trail along the corner of your lips, to your jaw, and onward.

You begin working on unbuttoning your silky pajama shirt as Wonwoo trails wet kisses down your neck. His hands take over, effortlessly unbuttoning it. Your eyes glance over to the mirror on the wall, giving you a full view of you kneeling on his bed and him towering over you.

He slips your shirt off your shoulders, and his eyes briefly follow your gaze, realizing what you’re looking at.

“Are you watching yourself in the mirror?” Wonwoo says into your ear, giving you chills.

“Uh-huh.” Your breath shaky as you reply, nodding.

“Turn around.” He suddenly demands, kissing behind your ear before you turn around, your back now facing him.

Wonwoo wraps one arm around your torso, holding you against his sturdy chest. His hand lightly touches your chin, turning you to face the mirror again.

“Keep watching yourself, baby.”

You watch as his free hand slips underneath your pajama shorts, his fingers lightly ghosting over your clothed clit. You gasp as your hips jolt, desperately seeking out more friction.

“Wonwoo…” You gasp, gripping his arm tighter.

His hand slides underneath the elastic of your underwear, applying firm pressure as he circles your clit, before you feel his fingers slide down between your folds and he mutters a breathy fuck against your neck when he feels how wet you are already.

“You’re already dripping for me, baby.” Wonwoo says deeply, voice slightly muffled into your neck. “Couldn’t wait to see me, could you?”

He’s expecting an answer, and it’s impossibly hard now that he’s sliding two fingers inside you, expertly curling his fingers to find that special spot that you often couldn’t reach yourself.

“N-no, I couldn’t… thought about you all day.” You cry, nails digging into his forearm, and he’s seemingly unfazed by it. His fingers pound into your sweet spot, making your head fall back against his shoulder.

“Fuck, look at how pretty you look.” Wonwoo says, glancing at your reflection, your brows furrowed as you focus on the feeling of his fingers inside you.

“I’m so close…” You whine, turning to bury your face in his neck as you inhale the sweet scent of his cologne like you never want to forget it.

“I know, baby. You’re fucking squeezing my fingers.” Wonwoo grunts as your walls clench around his fingers. “Let it go, I got you.”

Your legs shake as you grip onto his forearm for dear life, desperate for something to hold onto. A cry of his name leaves your lips as you cum, your heart racing, panting trying to catch your breath.

“That’s my girl.” Wonwoo turns to kiss your forehead gently, his fingers slip from your dripping center, brushing your clit one last time and the friction is enough to make you wince.

He releases his hold on you, and you turn around to face him, kissing him needily. “Fuck me,” You whisper against his lips. “I need you.”

“So needy…” Wonwoo playfully mocks you, suddenly turning into his unintentionally adorable self, as if he didn’t just pull a powerful orgasm out of you moments ago. “Don’t I at least get to enjoy this cute little set you wore for me?” He pulls off your shirt, even though it was already damn near falling off anyway.

You blush, kissing him again.

“We don’t have time for that.” You chuckle, already feeling somewhat anxious that Mingyu is going to walk into the apartment at any second.

Wonwoo can read you like a book, and he notices right away. “Hey, there’s no rush.” He says gently, as his hands reach behind you to unhook your bra.

You slide it off the rest of the way, then toss it on the floor. “I know, I’m just enjoying this. I don’t want to be interrupted.” You drape your arms over his shoulders as you press your body against him, kissing him fervently. You moan against his lips as you feel his hard cock pressing against you.

You slide your hands down his chest, reaching to loop your fingertips into the waistband of his sweatpants. “Take these off, baby.” You whisper as you kiss his along jaw a few times, before you grope his length through them for emphasis. “Please.”

Wonwoo gently nudges you to fall back on his bed, and you sit up on your elbows, eagerly watching him as he obeys you, taking them off. “Better?” His gaze meets yours as you look him over.

You eagerly nod, lifting your hips for him as he rids you of your pajama shorts you still had on, along with your soaking wet underwear.

“How do you want it, baby?” Wonwoo huskily asks you, removing his underwear. He curses under his breath as he watches you bend your knees and spread your legs apart, allowing him full access to you.

You gasp as you feel him suddenly pull you further down on his bed, quickly followed by a whine as you feel the weight of his cock on your clit. You sit up on your elbows to see him dragging his cock through your folds, coating himself in your wetness.

Both of you can only watch, breathing heavily.

“Wonwoo…” You whine his name, gripping the sheets beneath you as the tip of his cock bumps you clit again. You both watch as he lines himself up with your entrance, finally pushing inside you.

“Look at that.” Wonwoo grunts, watching you take every inch, feeling your walls stretch to accommodate him.

“Fuck…” You throw your head back, a soft moan falling from your lips as you feel so full. “You’re too big…”

“You take me so well…look at you.” Wonwoo praises you, as his hands come up to gently stroke your inner thighs, and it’s enough to get you to relax. “You okay?”

You nod, “Yeah, you can move. Please.”

He starts to pound into you at a steady pace, making you grab onto his shoulders for something to hold onto. Your nails dig into his skin as he drives his cock into your sweet spot over and over.

You let out a sob of a moan, and Wonwoo thinks it’s the prettiest sound he’s ever heard.

“God, you sound so pretty,” He moans, “Crying for me…”

“I’m not gonna last long.” You whine, your walls already clenching around him.

Your heart nearly stops in your chest when suddenly you hear the front door to the apartment open, then hear Mingyu enter.

You gasp, and Wonwoo quickly shushes you.

“Relax, he’s not going to come in here, he probably thinks I left.” He whispers, all the while he hasn’t stopped fucking you.

“Can you be quiet?”

You can barely find the words to speak, your brain too focused on the feeling of his cock inside you.

“Answer me.”

You frantically nod, and that’s about all you can muster the strength to do. Your walls clench around him and he knows you’re close.

“Shit, I’m gonna come…” You softly moan, as quiet as you can, then you feel his hand cover your mouth, muffling your cries as your walls squeeze his cock hard, but he keeps fucking you through your high.

He keeps going until he’s coming too, groaning into your neck as you feel his cock nearly throbbing as he releases inside of you.

“Fuck…” Wonwoo sighs, as you both are catching your breath. “That wasn’t how that was supposed to happen.” You both smile bashfully at each other.

You gently thread your fingers through his hair, pushing it back off his forehand.

“That’s okay, we can sneak over to my place… we won’t have to be quiet.”

tags: @dearlyjun @cosmojinyoung

some others i couldn’t tag! 💔

[fxrmuladaydreams]

choices and livestreams (sv5) (dr3)

pornstar!seb x pornstar/camgirl!reader , pornstar!daniel x pornstar/camgirl!reader

summary: seb wants you back in his life, but have you already put him in the past?

notes: i know i said no more posts until after the holidays but i got this done early so here it is, also i felt bad leaving you with the carlos angst then saying peace out

warnings: !! CONTAINS SMUT, MINORS DNI !! masturbation (m & f), sex toys (dildos)

prev part next part

Sebastian sat at his computer and watched as Daniel played with you. He brought you over the edge again and again and again, and Sebastian couldn’t even get hard. He tried to tease himself, to slowly stroke his cock up and down, when that didn’t work he tried just wrapping his hand around himself and just jerking himself off, but still nothing.

The only parts where he would feel himself twitch with interest was when you had the vibrator taped to your leg. His cock would stiffen as he watched you come undone, then immediately soften when Daniel walked back into the shot.

He groans as he rests his head on his desk. He glances back up at the screen when you scream out during your last orgasm. He feels himself stiffen as the camera moves to show all of your release leaking out of you. He could get off if he just replays this four second clip over and over.

His jaw clenches when he hears Daniel’s voice.

“You were so good for me, my good little bunny.”

His words make Sebastian want to throw his computer against a wall.

He rolls his eyes as he sees all of the likes the video has, but feels a sense of pride wash over him at some of the comments.

where is sebastian?

daniel fucks her fine, but sebastian really knew how to wreck her

this will be fine to jerk off to until we get more videos with bunny and sebastian

Sebastian glances at his phone next to him. For what must be about the twentieth time today, he thinks about texting you. You’ve gone radio silent since leaving his house last week, and he’s started to really miss having you around.

He types out a quick text, just something saying hello, and that he enjoyed your video with Daniel. He stares at it for a moment, then huffs and deletes the message. He very much did not enjoy your video with Daniel. And what kind of masochist would he be if he told you he enjoyed watching someone else fuck you?

His phone buzzing pulls his thoughts away from you. There’s a notification from the girl he had recently filmed with. It’s got a link to their mew video, and a few flirty emoji’s.

He feels his stomach churn, remembering their filming day. It didn’t come as easy as filming with you did. She was trying way too hard to please him, and he seemed out of it almost the entire time, but with some skillful editing it made a half decent video.

He swipes the notification away, and opens your messages again.

Hey, I haven’t heard from you in a bit, how is everything?

He presses send before he can overthink it, deciding that even a sliver of attention from you is enough to make up for any consequences that could come from trying to get closer to you again.

You’re with Daniel when you see the text from Seb. He’s leaning back on his couch, with you sitting between his legs, your back resting against his chest. He’s got an arm thrown over your shoulder, while his other hand draws patterns along your arm. He put on a movie for the two of you to watch, something that you really hadn’t been paying much attention to.

Daniel doesn’t want to seem nosy, but the scowl on your face is worrying, especially because you’ve been staring at your phone for the past few minutes.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, shifting slightly.

You shake your head and sigh. “Nothing.” You toss your phone to the other end of the couch and bury yourself further into Daniel’s chest.

“C’mon sweetheart, I can tell something’s bothering you.” He says.

“It’s nothing. Seb just texted me.” You tell him quietly, your eyes locked onto his tv.

“And it was a bad text?” He strokes your cheek softly.

You turn so that you’re now laying on him, chest to chest.

“He said he hasn’t heard from me in a while and wants to know how everything is.”

Daniel hums. “And how is everything? If one were to want to know.” He feins disinterest in your answer, but holds his breath waiting for a response.

You slowly start to smile. “Everything is going well, I think.”

He lets out a breath and flashes you his own grin. “Good, I’m glad.”

You spend the evening with Daniel, cuddled up on his couch. You try to focus on him, but you just keep thinking about Seb. He’s made himself within reach again, but it could end up the same way it did last time. Is risking your blossoming relationship with Daniel really worth taking that chance?

A part of you feels guilty when he asks if you want to stay the night and you turn him down. You can see the disappointment flash across his face, but he quickly hides it.

You bid him goodnight with a quick kiss on the cheek, leaving him alone as you drive back to your own home. You throw your things down on your couch and pull your phone out of your pocket as you make your way to your room.

You type out a reply to Sebastian, then set your phone face down on your desk.

I’m good, how are you? I can’t really talk right now, I’m about to film a livestream.

It’s meant to be a harmless text, but a part of you knows that you want his attention.

You change into a pretty baby pink lacy lingerie set. You set up your camera and laptop and check to make sure you’re camera ready. You start your stream and watch as your usual viewers start to join. You make a few flirty comments, telling them how much you missed them.

Sebastian doesn’t seem to join, or maybe just hasn’t read your text, so you start with your stream without him. You tease yourself through your underwear, letting out breathy moans when your fingers brush against your clit.

You pull your panties to the side and push a finger inside of yourself. It does almost nothing for you, so you push a second in as well. It’s not at all comparable to Seb or Daniel, but your viewers seem to be enjoying it from the tips they send you.

After a few minutes you pull your hand away from your cunt and reach next to you for a dildo. You’re drawn to your purple one, the length reminding you of how deep Sebastian was able to push inside you. But you spot your blue one too, the girth would stretch you out and really give your viewers a show.

You hold the blue toy in front of your camera, showing it to your audience.

i can’t wait to watch her fall apart on that dick

there’s no way she’ll be able to take that

You set the dildo up on your floor and raise yourself above it. Your eye catches a comment before you lower yourself down.

be a good bunny schatz - sebv

You flush at the comment. A new wave of arousal rushes through you as you lower yourself onto the silicone toy. It’s a struggle to take it, the head stretching you out more than you have before. The pain quickly turns into pleasure as you ease yourself lower and lower on the toy, until it’s fully sheathed inside you.

You pause as you look back up at your camera. You look wrecked already, your eyes half lidded as your mouth hangs open.

“‘S so big.” You moan.

You read another comment from your computer that makes you clench around the toy.

such a good bunny, taking that dick all the way inside you. now bounce on it sweetheart - dannyric

You bounce up and down on the dildo, moaning out as it stabs at your soft spongey spot over and over again. Tears fall from your eyes, the pleasure is too much.

“Please, please, may I cum? I want to cum so bad!” You beg.

You don’t know who you’re asking, you mind far too cloudy to be thinking straight, but your eyes search for the two usernames that send you over the edge.

cum for me bunny - sebv

you’re so pretty when you beg, you can cum now bunny - dannyric

You cry out as you reach your peak, your body losing control, and all sense of pace as you ride the toy through your orgasm.

You clench around it as tips come flooding in. You slowly lift yourself off it, whimpering at the empty feeling between your legs. The dildo is coated in your milky white release. You lift it up and lick a long stripe up the side, moaning at the taste of yourself.

You flirt a little more with your viewers, then say goodbye and end your stream.

The clean up process is lonely, you try to keep your balance as you lean against your bathroom counter, wiping up the mess between your legs. You change out of your lingerie and throw it in your laundry pile. You reach for a sweater in your closet, but pause when you see what’s before you.

Folded on one of the shelves is Seb’s sweatshirt, the one he let you use the first time you filmed with him. The grey fabric is soft between your fingers, begging to wrap you up and keep you warm.

Hanging up on the rack is Daniel’s hoodie. He insisted that you hold onto it for a while after your night at the diner. It still smells like his cologne, well his cologne and a slight smell of the diner food you shared with him.

Your heart aches as you look back and forth between the pieces of clothing. You reach out and grab a sweater of your own, refusing to make any decisions tonight.

You grab your phone from your desk to see two text notifications.

From Seb

That was a fun livestream schatz, you really know how to put on a show

From Daniel

You could’ve done your livestream at my house sweetheart, I would’ve enjoyed a live show

You leave both boys on read, and climb into your bed. You hope that tomorrow you’ll have a clearer mindset about what to do next.

[steddieas-shegoes]

i'm coming out

for @corrodedcoffinfest prompt 'pride'

rated t | 880 words | no cw | tags: coming out, bisexual king gareth, side steddie

🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈

Gareth hated to admit it, but he was jealous.

He was jealous of Steve still being able to hide under the radar enough that he could go to gay clubs and pride events without anyone batting an eye. He was jealous of Eddie being out publicly, not having to keep any part of his life a secret except for what he truly wanted to. And he was jealous of his own boyfriend, Sam, for not even having to worry about how the public would react if they knew he was gay.

"I just think it sounds like you want to come out," he said over the phone. "If Eddie can, why can't you?"

"It's not that easy!" Gareth argued, though he wasn't really sure how to back that argument up. It was that easy. Nobody in the band would care if he decided to come out, and most of the fans would be fine with it if they went off their reaction to Eddie coming out.

"Why not?" Sam asked, calm in Gareth's chaos.

"Because if people don't like Eddie, it can be for any number of reasons. He's loud, or a nerd, or too hyper. If they don't like me, it's definitely just because I like men." Gareth had never actually acknowledged that thought before, but here he was, saying it out loud on the phone to his boyfriend. "I don't want people to hate me."

"Baby..." Sam started. He sighed. "It's your choice. You know I would never pressure you to do anything you aren't ready for. But it does sound like the only person who is holding you back is you."

Gareth didn't feel like talking about it more, but Sam let him change the subject and the rest of the conversation went fine.

"Think about it, Gare," Sam said as they hung up.

That's all he did for days. He saw countless posts about pride events in the cities they were stopping in on the tour, Eddie even made an appearance at a drag brunch and left VIP tickets for the performers to come to Corroded Coffin's show that night. He thought about being able to be a part of the community in the way he knew he could be.

"Ed?" He asked right before they all went to bed.

"Yeah?" Eddie was typing out a text on his phone, probably some long and romantic and disgusting ode to Steve.

"You're going to the parade in Boston right?"

Eddie looked up from his phone, brows furrowing. "Yeah, why?"

"Mind if I come with you?"

"You're always welcome, you know that." Eddie smiled. "You coming as an ally or as the 'B' in LGBTQIA+?"

"I think I'm gonna come as me."

****

He didn't tell Sam what he was doing, figured he would have time between getting back to the tour bus and when news started hitting.

He forgot that Sam tracked alerts on Twitter for him.

His phone started ringing the moment he hit the end of the parade route.

"Hey, love," Gareth couldn't stop smiling. He'd never felt like he belonged here quite like he did today. "All okay?"

"I'm so fuckin' proud of you." Sam's smile was evident in his voice. "You could've given me a little warning though. Seeing 20 notifications pop up at once is a bit terrifying."

"Sorry. Wanted to surprise you. Did you like my shirt?" Gareth looked down at the shirt he was wearing.

"You mean the "ask me about my boyfriend" with a bi pride flag shirt? Yeah, I'd like a matching one as soon as possible."

"Yeah?"

They both laughed as Gareth found a small corner of the alley they'd stopped in to be alone.

"I can't wait to kiss you. This is the hottest thing you've ever done."

"What about that time I fucked you against my drum set?" Gareth asked with a smirk.

"Okay. The second hottest thing you've ever done. Still don't know how you had the strength to hold most of my weight for that long," Sam sounded like his thoughts were drifting to the memory of that day. "Anyway! I don't wanna keep you from having fun. But call me later."

"Okay, babe. Wish you were here," Gareth said softly. "Miss you."

"Miss you too. But only three weeks until you're home."

"Feels like forever."

"Dramatic." Sam laughed. "I love you, baby."

"I love you, too. If you see me getting drunk in a gay bar later, no you don't."

"I'd buy you a drink if I was there."

"Three weeks."

"21 days."

"You two are disgusting." Eddie yelled from a few feet away.

Sam laughed and said goodbye as Gareth walked over to Eddie.

"Not any more disgusting than you and Steve," he grumbled. "At least Steve comes with you for most of the tour."

"Can you imagine if he didn't? The world would end."

Gareth rolled his eyes. "Uh huh. Drinks?"

"Drinks!" Eddie threw his arms up and started running down the block, ignoring the yells of people recognizing him as he made his way to the bar they'd already chosen.

Gareth followed, unable to wipe the smile from his face. He was out, and maybe he'd have to do it more officially later on, but for now, this was enough.

[relaxxattack]

ok yeah lots of memes about how the shitty new UI is literally a direct carbon copy of twitter and we hate it because of that, yea yea

here’s some actual/extra reasons why the UI itself is shitty beyond the fact that it’s stolen from twitter (in just my personal opinion)

it’s claustrophobic as hell. the old UI felt breathable, felt like you could scroll and actually look at your posts, and now there’s enough shit going on on one page that it actually gives me a headache. (i’ve heard other people say this as well, so maybe it’s not just me that’s overstimulated by all the fucking noise on the dash?)

the ‘dash sorting’ (for you / your tags / what you missed) is way too high up the page now and appears crowded against the top where things like the bookmarks bar are on most browsers. not that anything in this new UI isn’t crowded.

i’ve seen it mentioned plenty already, but there’s quite a lot of unnecessary duplication-- as in, the same buttons that exist in the new left navigation panel show up on the right in blog view, which is just completely annoying and unneeded clutter.

the fact that post interaction options are all on the right side of the posts, but dashboard navigation is now all pushed to the far left of display, is extremely annoying. i’m right-handed, so it’s extra annoying for me to have to constantly go all the way over there. maybe that’s easier for left-handed people, but if the case was supporting diversity, why not just put an option in dashboard preferences to switch the side of ALL the controls? because the post interactions are still on the right.

while we’re on the subject-- tumblr’s original design was actually MUCH more intuitive and easy to navigate. the reason for this is that everything you needed to click was in one small area. you scroll up and down the dash, move slightly up to navigate (home/asks/notifications) and slightly down to the side to interact with a post (reblog/reply). extremely simple, easy to use, even ‘lazy + addicting’, which is what all social media studio exes are supposed to want right now. changing the ui to actually be more work and more frustrating to navigate seems completely opposed to what their obvious business strategy should be.

tumblr’s original design was also much more breathable, with the small icons in the corner looking organized and not taking up much space, and lots of room for the posts themselves to be the main attraction.

there’s the fact that copying someone else’s brand entirely actually just puts you in a bigger, wider pool with much more competition, and makes you much more likely to immediately fall short of that and go bankrupt.

tumblr's original purpose was to be geared toward blogs, and these updates, along with the writing on the wall about blog themes being completely phased out soon, is completely against the original purpose. although sometimes website purposes change for the better, so take that as you will.

and finally the obvious point that you can tell from all the memes: this change is almost universally hated by the core tumblr userbase-- aka the site’s loyal consumers for years and years. driving out their main demographic seems like a very obvious, very quick way to lose a lot of fucking money. they also did this “carbon copy of twitter” update literally just a week after sitewide protest about the idea of this site being anything like twitter, so it feels like a massive Fuck You to literally all of the users. tumblr is rapidly approaching their trust thermocline, and show no sign of slowing down.

these are just my opinions about the ui, and i’m only one person. so feel free to add on other design flaws you think people should be aware of or able to mention! i will probably also be submitting this post as feedback to staff, and will be taking their surveys when i can as well.

[obsessedelusional]

Internets Favorite Fangirl

paring ✦ Bella Ramsey x Fem!Reader

summary ✦ You are the internets most famous fangirl. You were a famous actor with no shame in thirsting over celebrities. So naturally you’re very public about your love with Pedro Pascal. Only to switch up when watching TLOU, fancying Bella. What happens when you show up to an award show they’re both attending? poorly proofread

word count ✦ 3,700ish

authors note ✦ hey sorry I’ve been mia I missed all y’all and want to start posting again anyways here’s a bellaxreader I wrote several months ago lmao im gonna post a few bella things I’ve been working on and even venture into tlou ((Abby Anderson is the love of my FUCKING LIFE)) ily bye

masterlist

Feedback & Reblogs are helpful and extremely appreciated ♡

⊹ ꙳ ✦ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹

It had become a reoccurring theme in your press interviews to be asked who your recent celebrity crush was. It started when you landed your first big movie. Shortly after the release in a chance to find out more about you fans search the internet for any crumb they could find. Someone found an old Harry Styles fan page you had when you were a teen. You were absolutely mortified by the stuff they were finding. Deleting it wouldn’t undo it so you learned to embrace it. Quickly becoming the internets most famous fan girl.

Making TikTok’s and tweets thirsting after unattainable celebrities. The whole internet eating it up and thirsting along with you. Your most recent viral moment was a TikTok you made featuring the infamous dvcree Pedro Pascal edit. Your face green screened over the original with a caption talking about this singular edit has taken over your for you page and you were enjoying every second of it.

With the upcoming release of the anticipated second movie to your most popular role you were busy doing press work. Sometimes by yourself but mostly with the rest of the cast. Today you were invited to do an google auto complete video with you male costar, Johnathan, who plays your love interest.

The first board asking where your from, then your age, and other basic questions. The next board is handed to you all the google searches begin with ‘who’.

“Who is y/n?” You read aloud laughing as you read.

“I am. That’s me. I act sometimes but mostly embarrass myself on the internet.” You costar laughs agreeing with the last half of your statement.

“Who is y/n dating?”

“I wish I had some juicy gossip to share but I’m as single as it gets.”

“Who is y/n’s celebrity crush?” You sit there and think, your smile grows bigger when it comes to your mind.

“Oh this one’s easy. I know.” Jonathan says.

“Who?”

“Pedro Pascal.”

“Pssssh that was so last week.” Jonathan audibly gasps.

“Who then?”

“We’ll it’s actually his fault.”

“Who’s fault?”

“Pedro’s.”

“Please explain.” Jonathan says confused.

“Well I’m late on the train but I just binged watch The Last of Us. I was the last of us to watch it.” You laugh at your own joke, Jonathan doesn’t only shakes his head disapprovingly.

“Anyways I started watching it for Pedro but stayed for Bella Ramsey.”

“Bella? The one who played Ellie?” Jonathan asks, his face telling you he doesn’t get it.

“Yeah them. You may not understand but the girls will get it.” You respond.

“Okay you heard it here first y/n is single and wants Bella Ramsey. My turn.” He says as he reaches for his board to read off the questions directed at him.

—

A few days pass before the video is released. Your publicist notify you it’s out and you don’t dare watch it, just pray that you didn’t do anything to embarrassing this time. It doesn’t take long before your notifications are flooded with people talking about the interview. You read a few before realizing a theme, Bella.

Everyone is tagging Bella in clips of you gushing over her. An edit of you saying the girls will get it followed by edited clips of Bella to the beat of a song. You may have watched it one too many times before favoriting it. Just as you about to close TikTok you get an Instagram notification from a verified account. It’s Bella following you, you click the notification not believing for a second it’s real.

But it is.

—

Two weeks ago Bella had made the first move by following you on Instagram. The internet went crazy when they realized quickly shipping the two of you. No one realizing that was the extent of your relationship, mutually following each other on instagram. It had crossed your mind at least a hundred times, you had drafted plenty first messages. Always deleting your words before you could muster up the courage to press send.

Tonight no different, you were in the process of preparing for a movie and tv awards show. In your dressing room being pampered by your glam squad. Clicking away at your phone looking for any sign that Bella was going to be here tonight. If they were you’d have no choice by to say hello. Cursing yourself because if only you had messaged Bella beforehand this would be less awkward.

A knock at your door steals your attention and your crew stops what there doing. The door opens revealing your manager, the biggest grin on her face. Something was up.

“We have a surprise for you.” She sings with a soft smile.

“So finish what your doing and meet us in room A3.” She says before shutting the door. You ask your team if they know what’s happening but they all answer with a shrug of the shoulders.

—

“Why are there cameras?” You ask as your guided to room A3. The door is shut, your mind races wondering what it could possibly be. Everyone around you is looking suspiciously excited for what’s about to happen. Your instructed to open the door so you do so, peaking your head in as it creeps open.

With nothing more than your head in the room, you peek around into the darkness. Blinded momentarily when the light turns on from inside. Blinking as an attempt to get your sight back your greeted by none other than Pedro Pascal.

“Absolutely fucking not.” You spit following with a squeal as you shut the door. Leaving Pedro alone in the room with whoever else in there. He erupts into laughter, a sound you had heard many times online.

“There’s no fucking way this is real.” You turn around ready to run greeted by the camera shoved in your face. Realizing you have no choice in this matter. With a nervous breakdown around the corner you open the door. Peaking your head once again making eye contact with Pedro.

“I’m sorry.” You say too afraid to approach already had made a fool of yourself.

“Don’t be.” Pedro laughs, calming your nerves temporarily.

“Hi.” Is all you can manage to spit out.

“Hi honey,” he smiles and waves, making you melt. The two of your still stood a few feet apart. You’re looking him up and down and moving your gaze onto your manger who’s sat in the corner motioning you to get closer.

“You can come closer. I don’t bite.. I mean unless…” His voice trails off and turns into laughter. You laugh before closing the gap, hugging Pedro. After you pose next to Pedro as photos are taken. His arm rests on your shoulder. You look up at the man next to you he’s already looking down at you.

“I was so excited to meet you a few weeks ago.”

“How long have you guys been planning this?” You ask.

“A little over a month.” Your manager answers.

“Yeah then you had to go and switch up on me.” He sighs dramatically, letting his arm fall from your shoulders.

“What did-“

“Don’t act so innocent Y/N. Don’t think I didn’t hear about your new found love for Bella.” Your eyes go wide realizing what he’s talking about.

“They better not pop up out of nowhere. I can’t handle two surprises today.”

“See exactly it’s like I don’t even matter to you anymore.” Pedro whines face falling.

“You do matter but…” You start to go on about Bella but stop your self.

“But what?” Pedro must notice your the worry in your face because he takes it back.

“I’m just giving you a hard time.” He teases.

—

“It really was nice meeting you.” You say your goodbyes but decide to follow it up with an apology for your actions when you were surprised. The cameras were gone now.

“Don’t worry about it. If anything I should be worried. Bella’s not gonna be happy with me.” Your ears perk up at the mention of Bella not being happy.

“Why?”

“I’ve said to much.” He attempts to change the conversation.

“Wait you can’t just say that and pretend like you didn’t.” He let’s out a defeated sigh in response.

“Bella has not shut up about you in weeks. I tried to convince them to tag along but they refused. Which turned into a whole thing. Bella made me promise several times not to embarrass them.” Pedro rambles on before stopping face full of regret.

“I won’t say anything if you won’t.” You respond.

“Deal.”

Maybe you don’t plan on repeating the words that had come out of Pedro’s mouth but they surely lit the fire in your self to finally message Bella or maybe even say hello if you saw them tonight. Your rushed to finish getting ready before being instructed to walk the carpet. Taking pictures first and then stopping to do mini interviews.

Your in the middle of the red carpet where your stood answering questions for some publication. When you hear the crowd and paparazzi roar. Bella is stood next to Pedro, they’re holding hands. Pedro giving his full attention to the cameras while Bella is sneaking glances at you. In front of the camera still and the interviewer waiting for an answer you smile one last time, waving softly before going back to answering. Your whole demeanor changing from the subtle interaction with Bella, suddenly a little more smiley than before.

-

Eventually you’re seated at table, you say your hellos to the few people sitting with you. The seats next to you empty, so you take a peek at the name tags on table. Pedro is suppose to be sat right next to and Bella next to him. You don’t have time to process it because you hear the voice of the man who’s suppose to be sitting next to you. You turn around and he’s busy talking, no sign of Bella. You face forward in your seat, pulling out your phone to distract yourself.

“Told I’m sitting next to you but I don’t want to.” Pedro says from behind you. You smile politely kind of confused watching as he changes Bella’s name place with his. Sitting down where Bella was suppose to be. He sports the biggest grin as you realizing what he’s doing. He whispers you’re welcome before averting his attention else where.

Within seconds your planning your escape but it doesn’t matter because the familiar British accent fills your ears as they chat up some other people at a nearby table. If you left now it’d be too obvious, so you sit there painfully waiting for Bella to sit right next to you. A few long minutes pass before you fill the seat being pulled out and someone sitting down. You look over and smile, making eye contact with Bella who’s a few inches away.

“Hi.” Bella says with a shy smile.

“Hi.” You say back, barely a whisper.

“This is kinda crazy. I’ve never been to an event this big. Especially in America, this is on a whole other level.” Bella explains, staring a conversation.

“Oh yeah you’re probably far from home. Where do you live?” You ask, you already know the answer but Bella doesn’t need to know all that.

“The UK.” Bella responds.

“Oh damn. I’ve had to make that trip a few times. Absolute hell.” You say causing Bella to laugh lightly.

“Yeah kinda. Getting used to it after so many times. It’s usually worth it.”

“Well I hope this time is worth it.” You respond, you haven’t stopped smiling since Bella sat down.

“It already is.” Bella teases, their tone a bit flirty causing you to temporarily malfunction unable to come up with a response. Thank god some camera man comes by asking Pedro and Bella to take some pictures before the show starts.

As soon as Bella’s attention isn’t on you anymore your aggressively messaging your best friend, freaking the fuck out. As you’re typing some one grabs you hand, trying to get you to stand up. It’s Pedro and he’s begging for a photo with you. You happily oblige standing up but Pedro has a plan, posing you next to Bella. He takes a few photos with the two of you before stepping out of the way. Your unsure what to do but without notice Bella arm is around your waist. Pulling you a little closer, you smile for the picture and then look to Bella who’s already looking at you causing you to smile even bigger than before.

—

You two spend the beginning of the award show chatting in between breaks and sneaking glances at each other. Pedro constantly giving you looks, letting you know he’s happy with what’s happening. About half way though the show, a member of the shows staff comes to grab you and Pedro. Apparently the two of you presenting a reward.

You were not prepared for this in the slightest but it’s not the first time, you’ll be fine. You keep telling yourself that. It’s your time to go out, Pedro follows closely behind. You smile as everyone starts to cheer, when your finally to the podium Pedro begins reading off the teleprompter. You can’t help but cringe as the words as they come out, praying that it’s not too obvious.

“Today we’re here to present the award for break out actress.” Pedro says.

“Yeah… it’s been so amazing watching these nominees make their dreams come true.” You say through gritted teeth.

“With enough hard work and dedication, your dreams are possible. Just like her dreams.” He laughs, pointing to you.

“What do you mean Pedro?” You read off, sounding entirely out of touch with the words coming out. Confused where this could possibly going.

“Your hard work at being a fangirl, has finally paid off. You got to meet me. The man of your dreams.” Pedro can barley finish, laughing harder than he should be. Stopping every other word to laugh or catch his breath from laughing so hard. You don’t have any words being prompted at you, so you laugh and agree. Being shut up by the sound of your own voice being blasted from behind you.

“Absolutely fucking not.” You hear and followed by the sound of a door being slammed. You turn around in horror seeing yourself, on the biggest screen freaking out about meeting Pedro.

“There’s no fucking way this is real.” Plays on the screen, your curse words being bleeped. This is more embarrassing than anything you could’ve imagined that they had planned for this footage. You watch in full disgust too afraid to face the crowd of thousands. You hear them laughing at every stupid thing that leaves your mouth in the video, adding to your embarrassment.

When the video finally ends, Pedro gives you a hug. Saying something about how it’s okay in your ear but you’re far too gone from the moment to understand him. You turn to the face the crowd, the actor in your turning on.

“Well that was embarrassing.” You laugh.

“It’s okay, everyone loved it.” Pedro responds.

“Yeah everyone but me. Anyways, the nominees are…” You say as at attempt to make this end sooner. The nominees play in the background as you avoid eye contact with everyone in the crowd, just kinda looking off in the distance. Especially Bella because you two were hitting it off so we’ll and now the whole room, including Bella, just watched Pedro talk about your new found love for them.

Pedro starts ripping at an envelope letting you know it’s time to announce. The both of you read of the winner and start clapping. When the winner gets to the stage, you hug them before moving out of the way. Listening intently as they give their speech. It’s finally time to leave and you waste absolutely no time getting off that stage. Once backstage your overwhelmed by the sheer amount of good jobs and laughs at what just happened to you. Your manger tells you that was perfect.

“No more suprises please that was horrible.” You mutter, embarrassed and ready for the night to be over. Your manager apologizes. You make the walk back to the table, being stopped several times on the way. When you finally see your seat, Bella sees you. They flash a smile at you as you sit down. Pedro following close behind.

“That was something.” Bella says teasingly.

“That was embarrassing, I’m sorry.” You say not finding it funny.

“Why are you apologizing?” They ask, face full of concern.

“Because I opened my big mouth and dragged you into this.”

“I don’t mind. I actually kinda enjoy it.”

“Enjoy it?” You ask, your sour mood suddenly disappearing.

“Who wouldn’t enjoy one of the most beautiful and talented actors out there publicly simping for them?” Bella says, bringing your smile back.

“Beautiful?”

“Mhmm and talented.”

The two of you spend the rest of the night talking whenever you can. Pedro often inserting himself, neither of you minding. When it finally ends you can’t help but feel sad. Wishing the night could some how continue. You say your goodbyes, hugging Pedro. Then hugging Bella, a little longer than the hug with Pedro.

“It was nice meeting you.” You say as you pull away.

“You too.” Bella smiles as you walk away, your manager hounding you to get back to the dressing room so you can leave.

“How long are you in town?” You ask.

“I actually have to get on a plane back tomorrow afternoon.” Bella responds, sadness apparent in their voice.

“Oh well, shit that sucks.”

“What do you normally do after an award show?” Bella asks.

“Normally I get some terrible fast food and rot in bed until I fall asleep.” You respond honestly.

“I could go for some terrible fast food..” Bella says, with a hint of hope you’d understand what they were trying to say.

“I’d love it if you joined me.” You say, blush appearing. You make plans with Bella, letting them know you’d have to go to dressing room and unglam yourself. Bella understands following you to the dressing room, waiting for you outside of it. Eventually you come out in sweats, hair tied up and no more makeup.

“We’ll now I feel overdressed.” Bella teases, noticing your causal attire.

“You can borrow some clothes at mine.” You say, not realizing that you’re unofficially inviting Bella over to your home. Bella nods yes, biggest smile plastered on their face as they follow you out of the venue.

—

An hour later, Bella and you are laid up in bed. Tummy’s full watching some bad reality show. Doesn’t matter because you two can’t stop talking, not paying much attention to the tv. The conversation flows naturally, never missing a beat. Little did you know the internet was actively loosing their shit over all the content of the two of you tonight. Unaware of all of it, neither of you feeling any need to check your phones.

“I’m so glad I got to meet you tonight.” You say when the conversation starts to lull.

“Me too. I’ve been wanting to message you for weeks but I was absolutely terrified.” Bella admits.

“Me too. I was scared shitless when I realized you were sitting next to me. I’ve made a complete and utter fool of myself.” You say, looking at Bella who suddenly seems way closer than before. Tension between the two of you is heavy.

“Not at all.” Bella reassures you for what feels like the hundredth time.

“You sure? Because I still can’t believe-“ Your words are cut off by Bella kissing you softly, pulling away quickly.

“I like you. Okay? Please don’t fret over it.” Bella laughs, your laid there in shock. The biggest stupidest grin on your face.

“I like you too.” You whisper barley audible cause you’re quick with pressing your lips to Bella’s. This kid lasting a lot longer than the first.

—

The next morning, you two sleep in after staying up late. Only giving you two an hour before Bella has to get on the plane. You offer to drive Bella to their hotel, so they can pack and end up dropping them off at the airport too. Saying goodbye with a sweet kiss and plans to see each other in the near future.

You get into your car and pull out of the airport. A whole mix of emotions. Happy because of the prospects of a relationship with Bella but also sadness because Bella lives so far away. If the two of you do end up making it official, it’ll be long distance. The short drive home is spent in silence trying to figure out of the feelings your currently experiencing all at once. When you pull into your garage, your phone goes off its Bella.

Bella: thank you for last night, had so much fun and I can’t wait to see you again

You: is it stupid that I kinda miss you already?

Bella: I miss you too xxx

You catch yourself smiling so hard at your phone. Before you can respond Bella messages you again letting you know that their getting on the plane, they’ll message you as soon as they can. You shoot a short sweet message back and close the messages app.

You start opening your social media apps and your mentions are flooded with Bella and you at the award show. Hundred of photos from the event. People taking notice of the way you two were looking at each other. Then photos of you two leaving together. Most recently blurry photos of you off someones phone, outside of the airport saying goodbye to Bella.

“That was fast.” You groan aloud to yourself. Everyone is assuming the two of you are dating and you can’t blame them. You have a dozen unread messages from family, friends and people on your team.

A notification lets you know Pedro tagged you in a story. You click it and it’s the blurry photo of you kissing Bella outside the airport, with text that says ‘you’re welcome’. He tagged you and Bella in it. You can’t stop the laugh that leaves your mouth. Praying that Bella has knowledge of all this and isn’t blindsided when they get off the plane.

[souperbloom]

the way things go. [A.I.]

title from the song the way things go by beebadoobee

ex boyfriend!ash

part 1 of 2 | random little post breakup angst.

a/n: i’ve never written anything like this so i thought i’d give it a try— let me know what you think :) there will be a part 2 but im still unsure of what direction to take this in so if you have any suggestions feel free to drop them in my inbox!

no major cws, just a brief mention of drinking & vibes. ☻

WORDCOUNT: 3.5k

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

You around?

Sent. 2:58am

An odd buzzing from beneath your pillow stirred you awake from the deepest sleep you’ve had in weeks. Your phone buzzed once and just like that, you were awake? Couldn’t be. It had to have been some sort of sixth sense.

Call me. I miss you.

Sent. 2:59am

The silk pillowcase cradled your cheek as the buzzing continued. Bzzt. Bzzt. Bzzt.

Baby, please.

Sent. 2:59am

I miss you.

Sent. 2:59am

So much.

Sent. 3:00am

It wasn’t long before the incessant buzzing frustrated you to the point of reaching beneath your pillow and yanking your phone out from under it. The harsh light made your eyes water and burn, but the notifications on the screen made them ache even more.

ASHTON: 5 New Messages.

You’ve gotta be fucking kidding.

What was once a fluttering feeling in your chest, seeing his name sprawled across the screen, turned abruptly into agony. You didn’t think it would be so soon— him reaching out to you. It had been a month, almost to the day, since you and Ashton had called your three and a half year relationship quits. Things were serious enough to bring marriage into the question and suddenly, one random Tuesday night, it all came crashing down. He told you that it wasn’t you, that it was him, that it was the right person at the wrong time and all of the other painfully worn out cliches. To think that you even considered marrying him at all.

A crazy thought at three in the morning.

And even crazier when you thought about him texting you in the middle of the night. After a month of no contact.

have you been drinking?

Sent. 3:01 am

Your thumbs twiddle quickly and hit send, waiting for those three little deathly bubbles to pop up and confirm that no, you weren’t dreaming and yes, he was anxiously awaiting your reply.

ASHTON

Maybe. Maybe not.

Sent. 3:01am

His response makes you grumble; Ashton was absolutely insufferable— and even more so when inebriated. You didn’t want to deal with him right now, it was in your best interest to just ignore him and fight the thought of him right back to sleep.

But something inside of you wasn’t allowing this to be that easy.

go to bed.

Sent. 3:02am

ASHTON

Not until you’re in it.

Sent. 3:02am

that made no sense.

Sent. 3:02am

Why was it so difficult to put your phone down?

ASHTON

I don’t give a shit. I miss you.

Sent. 3:03am

You were far too tired to be entertaining his stupid desires at such an odd hour of the evening. The time was one thing, but the fact that he was drinking was an entirely new fish to fry. You knew that your actions had consequences, and those consequences were something you’d have to deal with in the morning.

stop texting me.

Sent. 3:04am

Maybe he’ll get the hint.

ASHTON

Come over?

Sent. 3:04am

Okay. Maybe not.

Your bottom lip had gone raw from the amount of biting you’d been doing to it recently, and it had yet to stop at all. It was a nervous habit you’d picked up after the breakup and you thought you were doing well at combating it by picking at your nail beds and twirling your hair— but now, these little ticks were coming out all at once.

You were a walking ball of nerves and haven’t been the same since that random Tuesday, almost a month ago.

no.

Sent. 3:05am

Look at you. Standing your ground. You were so proud of yourself.

ASHTON

Please?

Sent. 3:05am

fine.

Sent. 3:08am

Fuck.

The time it took for you to get yourself decent must’ve been some sort of world record. Because now, seemingly seconds later, you were in your car and hunched over your steering wheel. Taking deep breaths in as the cool leather pricked your balled up fists.

This fucking sucks.

You turned the key and the engine begrudgingly grumbled to a start. Even your car knew that this was a poor decision; sounding like it was about a five mile drive from completely giving up on you.

Lucky for you, Ashton’s house was only a mile away.

The dark winding road leading to Ashton’s driveway felt like an eternity. You were frigid at the thought of him sitting and waiting up for you, sitting on that deep mahogany leather couch with his head tossed back onto the cushions. His knee bobbing impatiently and the light of the TV making his face glow pale. A glass of whiskey, or whatever the fuck poison he picked nowadays, clutched in his hand and taking small sips until ice melted gradually and watered it down.

You hated how much you knew about him. How predictable he had become in your time being with him. You knew that whatever image your brain was conjuring up of him was probably true, down to the outfit he was wearing.

You didn’t bother texting him because you knew that the second his porch lights turned on, he’d be slouched against the doorframe waiting for you. As he always did. Your tires crunched against the gravel as you slowly pulled into his driveway; shaky hands and tired eyes working in tandem to park your car in the usual spot.

“Didn’t think you’d actually show up.”

The familiar voice pulls your gaze away from your slippers and just as expected, there he was.

His hair was a few inches longer, auburn and honeycomb waves colliding into a box-dyed mess. His roots were so much darker, after you had worked so hard on the touch ups and hours spent bent over the bathtub rinsing the bleach out to lighten his black dye job. All of that time was in vain.

There was an appropriate amount of stubble surrounding his cheeks, for the time you’d gone without seeing him. You were too busy admiring his face to notice that he was wearing the Keith Haring printed robe you had gifted him for Christmas.

You probably looked crazy.

“You asked me to come over,” you shrug, trying to make light of the situation.

“So… you came?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

The tension rising was palpable, despite the tasteful three feet of distance between your bodies, and the only thing you could think about now was the way his mossy eyes sparkled beneath the porch lights.

“Well,” he breaks the silence with a chuckle, “Don’t just stand there. Come inside.”

You don’t say anything else after stepping over the threshold of the house you’d spent almost four years living in. Everything was the same. And you’d imagined it as so. To any normal person, a month wasn’t a terribly long time. But the time after a breakup all seems to mesh into one long day, since stepping into his house for the final time to grab your things felt like it was yesterday.

The guitars still mounted to the wall and decorated art pieces that hung to and fro reminded you of all of the effort you’d spent making this house into a home.

“Is Calum here?” you ask about his best friend and roommate, trying to pay attention to anything else in the room but him.

“Nope. He’s out.”

“Cool.”

Ashton moves around the living room with ease, unperturbed by your presence as he glides over to the connected kitchen. “Want a drink?”

“No. Don’t plan on crashing here, if that’s what you were expecting.”

He lets out a wry chuckle at your attempt to be stern, “I wasn’t expecting anything. Just— trying to be a polite host.”

“Yeah well,” you sigh, flopping back onto that old leather couch, “You don’t have to act like I’m some stranger.”

“Stranger?” he quizzes, opening the door to his fridge as his disembodied voice echoes behind you, “What makes you think I’d treat you like a stranger?”

Your shoulders tense up at his soft words, Ashton rounds the corner back into the livingroom to join you on the couch. He hands you a glass of apple juice, and you take it.

“Thanks,” you murmur, the thought of him keeping a bottle of apple juice in the fridge for you sending a chill down your spine. Despite making fun of you for it, he always remembered that it was your favorite.

“So…” he begins, shifting on the couch to face your slouched body.

You glance over at his posture, and the familiarity of it all was making your head hurt. To think that the way someone chose to sit on a couch was causing you so much grief felt unnatural.

“...How have you been?”

“Fine. Just— living. I suppose that’s all I could really ask for.”

“Living, huh? Sounds fun. Better than dying. If you said you were dying I’d definitely be a little less excited about you showing up here. Walking corpses are not as cool as they are on TV.”

The way Ashton constantly spoke in tongues drove you up the wall. “What the fuck are you even saying?”

“Sorry, I’ve— been watching a lot of TV recently. Also I, uh— had a bit to drink.”

Yeah, no shit.

A few more moments of deafening silence pass and ultimately confuse you. You aren’t sure how silence could be something so loud but alas, whenever you looked at, heard, or even thought of Ashton since that one Tuesday night, the only thing you could hear was the sound of your own quickening heartbeat.

“Do you still have my cashmere sweater?” The thought pops into your mind randomly, as he takes a moment to admire you.

“I do. Did you want it back?”

That question pulls a dry chuckle out of you, “If I didn’t, I probably wouldn’t be asking for it.”

“Fair point. I know just where I left it, too— I’ll go get it.”

Ashton shifts to the edge of the couch to stand up, but stumbles back, due to whatever he had flowing in his system. He braces his ring-clad hands onto the leather and the metal adorning his knuckles tear down into it.

Glancing at those miscellaneous metal etchings and gemstones you’d gifted him makes you think about his infatuation with rings. And, his request for only eight of them.

Your mind flashes back to the anniversaries and milestones where he attempted to collect one for every finger. It could have been preference, or maybe he didn’t foresee enough milestones in which he’d acquire them—but you were never quite sure why he didn’t ask for ten.

He was weird in that way.

“You still wear your rings?” you ask, debating on biting your tongue after letting the question slip right out.

He stops in his tracks, as does your heart, “Of course I do. Why?”

“Dunno’,” you shrug, brushing your shoulder and letting your hand linger on your skin, “Just didn’t think you’d want to after everything.”

Ashton looks at you with intrigue; with purpose. He studies the hand of yours that had been left timidly resting on your forearm.

“Well, to ask you your own question; why wouldn’t I?”

His words hit you like a freight train and suddenly there’s a tightness in your chest that wasn’t there before. You were proud of yourself for being level headed— up until the moment you realized he was right; why wouldn’t he wear those rings?

Why wouldn’t you come over?

“Ashton?” The tightness in your chest was now spreading to your entire body, coating your limbs in this strange paralysis that always seemed to happen when you thought about him.

“Yeah?”

“I miss you, too.”

You don’t even get a moment to process how quickly you were straddling his lap, your crewneck riding up your back as his hands made an effort to explore you. The kiss was heated, sure, but you couldn’t tell if the resentment you felt towards him was meshing into your desires. Those soft little whimpers escaped his chest as you practically pinned him down onto the couch between your knees. You weren’t sure what came over you. Could’ve been his newly acquired taste for classical Hollywood cinema, or the fact that smelling his cologne felt like a breath of fresh air after a month spent locked in a tight little room.

“Ashton,” you mumble his name into his lips and they ricochet back onto yours.

“Oh, Y/N”, he hums, “How I’ve missed you, baby.”

Your tongues danced beneath the glowing of the silver screen, Casablanca being the most appropriate film to be on his television right now.

“I’ve–” your breath staggers, taking a moment to nip at his bottom lip, “I’ve missed you too. God fuckin’–”

The words you were meant to speak were entrapped by soft moans, as Ashton pulls you into his airy pajama pants. He holds you tightly, like he had never left.

“Do– do you–” He attempts to ask the question, the age-old question that had you rethinking your decision to come to his house in the first place.

“I don’t know…”

Your hand travels up to his hair and drags down to cup his cheek, the stubble slightly scratching at your palm and reminding yourself of the blisters that were left in the place of Ashton’s many, many attempts to teach you the drums. Two and a half years of consistent practice paid off.

“That’s okay,” he consoles, nuzzling his cheek into your hand, “We don’t have to do anything. We could just– lay here, y’know? Never minded it, still don’t.”

His answer surprises you. You nod and stutter, unable to form a coherent thought due to the warmth of his bare chest beneath his robe.

“Mmmh. You know what?— I change my mind.”

He chuckles, “Do you, now?”

“Yup. I want to. Gotta’ get whatever the fuck this is— out of my system.”

You couldn’t describe the way Ashton’s face morphed into that of a kicked puppy. The pain in your chest was blatantly obvious now, like a subtle pinprick every time the dim lights would catch the sparkle in his eyes.

“Out of your system?”

“I didn’t— I didn’t mean it like that,” you say; an oxymoron of sorts. Since the elephant in the room started stomping around and now, you were straddling him and tucking a lock of his hair behind his ear.

“I guess I can’t disagree with you. I’ve been missing you a lot but— I don’t know, I can’t really place what I’m feeling.”

Your lip tugs to the side, as does his. Twin looks of confusion in an effort to read each other’s faces. “Let’s just— pick up where we left off? Maybe it’ll help get your mind off the existential dread.”

“Existential dread, huh? Is that what this feeling is?” he asks, his hands running up and down your spine beneath your crewneck.

“Yeah, sure,” you swallow hard, harder than you’d intended and you choke on your words, “We can call it that.”

He whispers your name softly and the chills start running down your body. His voice was the one thing you couldn’t get over; no matter how many nights you’d spent staring at the ceiling in an effort to change that. You’d hear him calling out to you every time the wind blew and hearing him say it right in front of you felt like a slap in the goddamn face.

“Y/N, I’m sorry—”

“It’s a little too late for that now, don’t you think?”

You hated to be so morbid and dry but in the end, it was true. If he had wanted to give apologies where they were due, they should’ve been said the moment he called it quits.

“I figured it’s better late than never. You deserve an apology for— everything that went on.”

Your face turns cherry red, a sudden wash of anger flushing over your cheeks. You push yourself off of his chest with a force that you didn’t even know you were capable of. He jerks back, awe-stricken at the sudden change.

“Oh fuck you Ash. You’re so full of shit,” you mutter, fueled with sudden rage, “If you really wanted to apologize you’d have been at my doorstep a month ago. You don’t care about me. You only care because I’m right in front of you and looking at me hurts too much for you to ignore it.”

“You think I don’t care about you?…”

Ashton’s voice cracks and suddenly you were feeling awful for blowing up unprovoked. The notch in his forehead grows deeper as he studies your infuriated face with sincerity.

“Y/N, of course I fucking care about you. Are you kidding me? I care about you more than anything in this world.”

Another one of those pinpricks tugs at your heartstrings.

“Then why did you let me go?”

Without a moment’s notice or any sort of explanation, Ashton pulls you back into his chest and slots his lips against yours. You don’t fight it. In fact, you embrace it. Another frenzied kiss of daring tongues and roaming hands against the places that felt so familiar to the both of you.

Just as the kiss goes rogue and his lips sloppily traipse down to your jaw, you feel a small droplet roll down your cheek. One that didn’t belong to you.

A quiet sob is preceded by a sentence that rips your heart out of your chest.

“I never wanted to. I never wanted to let you go.”

“Ashton,” you murmur, feeling your eyes welling up just the same, “I—I didn’t know—”

He interrupts your thought with a string of kisses down your neck towards your chest. His hands roam with fervor, feeling you up as though you were the last thing he would ever be allowed or able to touch. You embraced his blistered hands and the way they knew every crease and divot in your body, how effortless he was at drawing you back in.

“I never knew how to get you in front of me to actually say the things on my mind but now that I have you I just— I couldn’t fight the pain in my chest when I looked into your eyes for the first time.” His rambling was trailing off into muffled sniffling and staccato phrasing; it was causing you physical pain to hear him this way.

“I just assumed you hated me. I thought you never wanted to see me again, Ash. Why didn’t you say this sooner?”

“What? No. No, I don’t hate you,” he defends, still solemn, “I just— didn’t know how to reach out. It took me a lot to swallow my pride and send you that text, Y/N… I’ve never been good at communicating.”

“Tell me about it,” you break the tension with a lighthearted hand, but remnants of your feelings for him lingered above your head like a storm cloud.

“But my actions have consequences, I’ve learned… I’d drive past your house and it’d take everything in me not to bang on your front door and drop down to my knees. Beg you to forgive me for everything I put you through… Everything I do reminds me of you in some way and— it was hard to even think about the two of us existing in the same universe without the other by our sides. It just, it didn’t feel natural—”

You felt sorrowful enough to place a kiss on his cheek as he rambled on, masking tears of your own and letting them drip down his cheek.

“— And when you told me ‘no’ after I’d asked you on a whim to come here, I thought it was over. My entire life flashed before my eyes and you weren’t in it and it just— it fucking killed me.”

“But Ashton, I’m here,” you say, watching his face deconstruct into more of a manic expression as he digressed, “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I know you’re here. You’re here now and— I know you always told me to live in the moment, but fuck. There’s so much left to say.”

You cup his jaw and tilt his gaze back into yours, after it had wandered behind your head as it always seemed to do.

“I’m sure there’s a lot to say but Ashton, you’ve made up your mind. That’s just… the way things go.”

Another tear falls rogue from his malachite eyes and your thumb is there to catch it. His gaze is gut-wrenching, plucking at every single one of your impulses and all of the progress you’ve made in getting over him.

“Is it too late to change that?”

Your mind starts reeling. The words you’d never thought you’d hear coming from his mouth were finally out in the open and there was no sign of him taking them back. The initial issue was his lack of communication but fuck, you didn’t know it would come back to bite you so soon.

You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about sending him a simple text to meet for coffee in hopes to ‘change his mind’, but it seemed as though he was thinking about it just as much as you were. There was no point in fighting it anymore. The two of you were meant for each other. If a month of no contact was all it took for him to realize how much he needed you…

…Then maybe that random Tuesday night wasn’t the worst thing after all.

[lixiektty]

꒰ঌ cupid's cams : choi yeonjun ໒꒱ — prev ▸ next

word count: 2.5k, warnings/kinks: camboy!yeonjun, dom!yeonjun, sub!reader, language, unprotected sex, clit stimulation, praise, degradation, daddy kink, creampie, thigh slapping, dumbification, recording content for yj's OF, pls feel free to let me know if i missed anything!!

taglist: @hyynee, @enha-cafe, @xiaoderrrr, @lethallyprotected

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ cupid's cams masterlist

yeonjun knew sex like he knew the back of his hand. he was so good at it, too good that you began wondering about his experience. it didn't bother you that yeonjun seemed to know more than you did, it could just get uncomfortable when you tried taking the lead.

you were on the bed, playing games on yeonjun's phone as he cleaned the kitchen up and showered. having that trust always made you happy, even if all you did was help him with his daily quests on each game he had downloaded. you were having fun, until a notification popped up—someone replying to a tweet yeonjun posted. you didn't even think he had twitter.

'so hot 😍' it read.

your blood boiled, skin turning hot. jealousy. who could possibly be commenting on his posts? what did he post to receive such a comment? you felt guilty pressing on it but that didn't stop you. the twitter app opened, and you were met with the exact comment you saw that got you here under yeonjun's tweet.

'new vids up! subscribe for better content 😉💦' with a picture of his cock laying against his stomach.

it just didn't make sense. all this time yeonjun was basically a pornstar and you had no idea about it—and you knew for a fact that was your boyfriend's body, you've seen it way too much and know it all too well.

"alright, finally done babe. what're we watchin'?" yeonjun asked, entering the room with a big smile.

your expression didn't match though, you had tears swelling in your eyes when you looked up at him, cheeks burning with your hands shaking trying to hold the phone.

"baby?" yeonjun called out to you, noticing your discomfort.

"yeonju—un," you start, voice shaky and mind filled with everything but answers, answers you needed, "are you... selling yourself online?"

"give me that," yeonjun said, arm stretching to snatch the phone from your hands.

he looks down to see what you had come across, his heart falling straight to his ass. it wasn't that he didn't want to tell you, he just didn't know how to bring it up without possibily blowing things up.

"i do live streams once a week where i... you know... and people pay to see that," he admits, "and on my days off i post onlyfans content."

"when did you plan on telling me?" you asked, voice going out slightly.

"someday... it just wasn't easy," yeonjun says, coming to sit beside you on the bed. he looked down talking about the situation and that only hurt you more, "i been doing this for nearly three years and it ruined my last relationship, so i stayed single for a while and slept around."

a part of you had sympathy for him, even after being angry that he kept this from you for so long and possibly longer if you hadn't found out tonight.

"i just didn't want you to feel weirded out and make me quit or worse, leave me," he adds on. he sounded genuine and your heart broke at the fact that yeonjun didn't trust you because of his past.

"what makes you think me out of all people would judge you? i'm nothing like your past girlfriends, yeonjun. i know you, i trust you." you responded, reassuringly. you give gentle to rub his shoulder in a way of telling him you were no longer mad. of course, you didn't appreciate that he wasn't vocal about the secret occupation, but you understood why he wasn't, "and as long as it's only for the money and you're not secretly having feelings for all the people that give you it," you add.

"never," yeonjun turns his head, big eyes looking at you lovingly, "only you."

"okay," you reply. your worries faded away, leaving your body and turning into sudden need, "let's film something then."

"wai— what?" yeonjun's innocent and loving expression snapped into confusion.

"you need some content, don't you? i can help you out," you suggested, hand moving up and down his arm and perching up onto his shoulder.

his eyes shifted to a darker shade, heart nearly beating out of his chest. he didn't expect that him confessing would go well, especially not this well. everyday he worried about telling you, feared that you'd kick him to the curb and make him feel bad about himself—that fear was no longer present.

"god, you have never seemed hotter than you do right now," yeonjun said before chasing your lips and messily kissing you.

your arms wrap around his neck to pull him down with you on the matress, his limbs tangling with yours once your bodies mesh together. yeonjun didn't waste a single second, dipping his fingers into your shorts immediately and collecting your dripping essence.

a moan slips from your mouth straight into his, the pads of his fingers toying with your clit, teasing you more each time he moved lower with the tips of his fingers slightly entering you.

"fuck, j-jun, need you," you whine, jerking up into his palm.

yeonjun trails kisses along your jawline, down to your neck and collarbone, lips taking in some of your skin to suck roughly. his fingers moved in faster circles against your bud, causing him to feel more eager that his was gently humping your thigh as he grew harder.

you were whining needily, just wanting to feel his cock stretching you open. he sat up, pulling his hand out of your shorts, soon removing them from your body and spreading your legs for him to sit in between.

"so wet already, barely even touched you," he teases. bullshit.

your clit was throbbing in anticipation, hole opening and closing with each deep breath you took. yeonjun was in a hurry trying to get the knot in his sweatpants untied, his struggle being pretty obvious to you.

you sat up, replacing his hands with yours, taking the strings between your fingers and untying them slowly as you looked up at him with big eyes. fuck, if he wasn't already hard enough.

yeonjun bends down to kiss you, chin between his fingers. you were stripping him from his sweats and boxers, his cock sprung up and you were quick to grab ahold. you pumped it gently up and down then slowly falling back until your back hit the mattress, bringing yeonjun with you.

"have i told you how much i love you?" yeonjun breaks from the kiss—his pretty lips all pink and swole.

"many times," you giggle, "but i'd like if you showed me."

yeonjun grins, quick to take your hand off of him, snatch you shirt from you and angle his tip near your entrance. the light stretches from his cock being pushed further into you made your body feel ecstatic and you were clinging onto him in an instant.

no matter how many times yeonjun fucked you, you'd still feel numb with each inch that entered you, surprised from his size but taking it so well.

"daddy's tight little pussy feels so good every time," yeonjun whispers into your ear, leaving a wet kiss behind.

yeonjun draws his hips back, pushing back into you and repeating this until you cry out for more. his fingers meet your clit again as he fucked you slightly faster. you were moaning loud, causing yeonjun's ears to ring—but he didn't even mind, the sounds you made because of his doing was like an ego boost.

this soon reminds him of your suggestion, before you two had even got here in the first place. he was letting his dick think too much for him that he completely forgot your original agreement.

he sits up and takes your hips into his hands to keep you steady once he picked up the pace, making you clench down on his cock tightly.

"lights, camera, action, my love," yeonjun says, picking up his phone and switching to the camera app.

yeonjun clicks the red button, beginning to record the sight, so sinful and messy. he smiles watching your pussy take his cock on his phone that captured it so well.

"fuck baby, look so fucking hot taking my dick like this," he says. you'd think it was all talk for the camera if wasn't for how he already acted during your times alone.

he was filthy, loved expressing how he was feeling and giving you a verbal visualization of what he could see at the moment. to see you like this as he records, knowing he'd get to keep it for himself gave him—this new rush of adrenaline and he's soon pounding into your dripping cunt, unholy noises echoing off the four walls surrounding you.

your hands scrambled any and everywhere to find something to claw onto, finding yeonjun's waist and sinking your nails deep. yeonjun let out a gasp, strangely enjoying this newfound pain that didn't necessarily hurt—it felt good. really fucking good.

"oh, baby," he moans breathlessly.

you couldn't see him due to your eyes being snapped shut and you could just barely open them, but you knew he looked good. sweaty and strong as he fucked you into bliss.

"har—harder," you sigh, both your hands now clawing at his abdomen.

you sounded so cute when you'd beg, felt even better when he knew you wanted to be more verbal for the sake of the content—loud and uncontrollable moans even louder now that you were being filmed.

yeonjun slid his thighs from under your to further get comfortable and fuck you properly. you were now lying flat against the mattress, thighs spread and his fingers on your sensitive bud. he pulled his hips back, slamming back into you repeatedly, "such a slut for daddy, aren't you?"

"mhm—" you hum in response, yelping when yeonjun slaps your inner thigh.

"words." he warns through his teeth.

"yes, daddy," you moan, hips jerking up to feel more friction.

yeonjun being mean to you did something to you that you couldn't explain, it was hard to in words. he was already hot, but he was so much hotter when speaking to you like that—making you feel so guilty for being a slut, something he turned you into.

not a day went by where you didn't think about his bare skin on display for you as he's drilling into you with his fat cock, reaching every spot inside you as possible.

you both admired each other with no clothes on, that's why most of the time they were off. something about your tits pressed against his chest, close in all ways gave him joy because he knew he only got this. this made him cocky, treating your body like no other and knowing he's the only one that can feel you this way.

yeonjun didn't try to hold back any longer, going from low grunts to even louder groans. he was destroying you in the best way possible, not even just because you were being recorded, but because you most definitely deserved it. he has never had someone like you, someone so supportive and loving, making him feel like the only man in the world and fucking him good while doing so.

his followers were infact aware of his relationship status, but he kept that part of himself private. he only ever posted and talked about himself, never hooked up with someone else only for onlyfans content before you two got together. even now, he felt like he was taking away some of your privacy because he genuinely did keep you secret for the most part.

yeonjun could feel himself repeatedly twitch inside you, warm walls feeling incredible sucking him in and dripping more by the second. you felt brain dead, drooling from the mouth and high-pitched moans escaping your throat.

the room was hot, you weren't sure if it was just your skin or it was the mixture of sweaty bodies and hot breaths that caused the room to warm up how it did.

you could feel that knot in your stomach grow tighter and tighter, you were a moaning mess, babbling some incoherent things but yeonjun knew that meant you were enjoying it because you were turning stupid.

"dumb little slut, so hungry for me," yeonjun says, a whimper falling from his mouth when you clench again. he was plowing into like he'd be the last time, you just felt even better than you have before that it was driving yeonjun insane, "shit, i'm gonna cum—want it, baby?"

"so, s—s bad, p-please fill me up daddy," you struggle to say, which pushed him further—he appreciated your manners even when you could barely talk.

he grins, only something you could see, with his hand all over you to touch every inch of your torso as possible. his other hand was gripping tightly on his phone where he watch the scene rip before his eyes. your breasts bounced with each aggressive thrust he sent into you.

"daddy—" you whine, your brain was so fuzzy that his name was the only thing that came to mind along with swears falling from your mouth.

yeonjun grunted, louder and louder until he got to his high. so very close and he just wanted to feel you full of his cum, belly bulging from the amount he was soon to let out. his size already doing that and the camera catching it so well.

"so fucking sexy," yeonjun slurred his words, grabbing the back of one of your thighs and pushing your knee to your chest.

you felt him twitch again, thrusts get sloppy. he circled his hips and hit your g-spot roughly, cursing a few more times and then painting your velvet walls.

"oh my god—" you cry out, hands going down to stop him from moving further but he just kept the same pace.

you came in an instant, the fullness yeonjun was providing you overwhelming you. the sounds he made too—he sounded so god damn good.

"mhm, cum baby~" yeonjun cooed, "just like that, such a good whore for your junnie."

you lost track of your breathing, not knowing how to do a thing. he fucked you dumb daily, yet this was different—the fact that he had a camera on you capturing it all for anyone to watch but at the end of the day, you were only his, and he treated your body with such care even when being rough.

yeonjun catches his breath, turning off his phone and throwing it to the side. he leans down and kisses you, your arms and legs wrapping around his long stature.

"you... are so fucking amazing," yeonjun praises, kissing your nose, "i'll be more honest from now on, like i have something else to confess..." it scared you because, what else could he be hiding? your anxiety drifted away once you saw that beautiful smile of his play along his face, "that was probably the best sex we've ever had," he admits.

"glad we think alike, choi," you smile, pecking his nose as he did to you and soon his pouty lips. it was gentle but messy, having the urge to clench on his cock that had begun softening.

"are you leading me on so i'll fuck you again, hm?" he tilted his head slightly, dark gaze burning a hole through you.

"not that i'm asking for it," you trail on, trying to look away and hide your smile and light teasing you were so obviously doing to him.

yeonjun grew hard again from your clenching, thrusting up into you and grabbing your body until it was pressed against his, arm wrapped tightly around your waist, "oh you're asking for it."

[honeypiehotchner]

Devil's Backbone (Unsub!Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- part seven

It's so fun to relive this fic as I post it because when I tell y'all I've been writing it for MONTHS I mean it

Warnings: more unsub!Hotch in action

Follow @honeypiehotchnerlibrary and turn on post notifications to be “tagged” when a new part goes up!

Seven: I've fallen in love with a man on the run -- "Devil's Backbone" by The Civil Wars

A week later, you found yourself on the BAU jet once again -- awake this time, and headed to Florida. It was a run-of-the-mill case, nothing too special, but you remember it because of the call Rossi got when you landed.

“Really?” he asked, turning around, walking to the back of the plane. A smart move, to keep his face and expressions away from the rest of the team. “Alright. Do they know who did it?”

You shared a look with Morgan and Emily. Reid was listening intently, and JJ was typing furiously on her phone.

“What is going on?” you whispered.

Emily shrugged.

“Alright, okay. Thank you. Uh-huh. Bye.” Rossi returned to the main cabin and took everyone in. “Issac Holman is dead.”

“How?” Reid asked before you could say, who?

“He was beaten and shot in his home in Washington,” Rossi replied with a shrug. “They don’t know who did it. It looked personal, but he wasn’t liked in his neighborhood. It could’ve been anyone.”

“If they even try to look,” JJ added, gesturing with her phone. “I’m hearing that they saw it as a good riddance case.”

“Who are we talking about?” you asked.

“I think it was the year before you joined us,” Morgan said. “Holman murdered his friend’s family. Mom, dad, and a little girl.”

“Madison,” Reid said quietly.

“Why?” you couldn’t help but ask.

“Because he wanted to,” Rossi shrugged. “His words.”

“We found him when he was seconds away from killing another family,” Morgan continued. “He tried to create a hostage situation, but we got them out.”

“God,” you groaned. You found yourself not that upset that he was dead, but something still felt wrong. No one deserved to be brutally murdered, even if they had murdered a family. “Well. On to the next one.”

“Yep,” Emily nodded, exhaling. “Let’s go.”

+++

Hotch made sure to be long gone from Washington by the time the news broke about Issac’s death. He had another job to finish, one closer to Virginia, so he decided to stop back at his place near Quantico first. 

He needed a rest after the drive to and from Washington. He needed to sleep for a full twenty-four hours if he wanted to feel awake again.

Before he could do that, though, he tossed everything in the washer. 

Hotch’s phone remained on the kitchen counter, only a few texts from Rossi and one voicemail from him, too. He picked his phone up to listen.

“Aaron, hey-- I got a call a few minutes ago from a friend up in Washington. Issac Holman is dead. They think it happened last week, but they don’t have any suspects. Just thought I’d keep you in the loop. I hope you’re doing alright. Call me if you’re not. Bye.”

Unexpected, but fine. He should’ve known Rossi kept tabs on almost everyone. 

He decided to call him back, regardless of if he answered. He needed to curb suspicions before they even began, so he dialed.

Dave didn’t pick up, so Hotch left a voicemail in return. “Hey Dave, got your voicemail. Thanks for keeping me updated, I hope they figure out what happened. Sorry I’ve missed you, I’ve been leaving my phone in random places around the house,” he chuckled. “Thanks again for checking in. Talk soon, bye.”

He ended the voicemail with surprising calmness. Indifference. How easy was that? This would be easier than he thought.

Once his laundry was done, he put it in the dryer, and then went to bed. He slept like the dead.

+++

Rossi listened to Hotch’s voicemail in the conference room of the police precinct in Sarosota, Florida. Hotch sounded good, better than Rossi was expecting, but not off the deep end, which left Rossi relieved.

You heard every word. Because Rossi wasn’t aware of how loud the speaker was, and you didn’t want to tell him. A foolish part of you wanted to hear Hotch’s voice. And he did sound good.

Hearing his voice made it all hit you like a ton of bricks. You missed him more than you previously thought. Everyone saw you missed him more than what felt normal, but no one mentioned it.

Rossi did, though, after he caught you listening to the voicemail. He gave you that typical Rossi smile.

“I know you miss him,” Rossi said, nudging your shoulder with his. “He sounds like he’s doing good.”

You nodded. “Good.”

“I know things ended…badly between you two,” Rossi started again, “but he’s going through a lot.”

You scoffed. “I know that.” But did he really have to end things with you so abruptly and fiercely? Like he wanted nothing to do with you in the first place? 

Despite that, you don’t blame him. He lost his wife and child to a serial killer. They were divorced, sure, but should you really have been sleeping with him so soon? How much of this had you caused by not giving him more time?

Part of you wanted to apologize, but didn’t know if that was right. If you had the right to apologize.

“Do you think I could go see him?” you asked, not expecting an answer, but Rossi still gave you one.

“I think he’d like that,” Rossi smiled. “But I don’t know for sure. I can’t speak for him.”

“I know,” you said.

But you wanted to see him. Even if it was just to say you were sorry.

+++

Aaron woke after nearly eighteen hours of sleep. His head hurt like fucking hell. He needed painkillers. Or something.

He went stumbling into the bathroom, pawing open the medicine cabinet. He steeled his face when he saw the various vitamins and over-the-counter cold medicine from when Jack was here. Hotch grabbed them and tossed them aside. The bottles clanged loudly in the bathtub. Whatever.

Aaron found the Excedrin and wrenched the cap off, grabbing two and then a third. He swallowed them dry and shook his head, waking himself up.

He had plans for the day. He had a new unsub to catch.

This one was particularly disgusting. This unsub murdered his wife, nearly murdered their son, yet was never convicted, and even retained custody of their son after it all. The evidence, the profile -- none of it was enough.

Hotch needed to do some surveillance work first. He needed to make sure the son was nowhere near the home when he acted. He would never put a child through something like that.

Not like Foyet did to Jack.

Hotch smacked the doorframe of the bathroom as he left, hearing the wood crack underneath his force. He kept walking.

He threw his clothes in the dryer, surprised by how little blood was left on them. The few that weren’t redeemable, he threw in a separate trash bag to burn somewhere. At some point.

Back in his bedroom, he rummaged through his closet for a black shirt and dark blue jeans, preparing for a long day of surveillance.

+++

Strauss called Rossi on the third night of the Florida case, under the guise of a status report. It didn’t take long for Dave to realize what she really was calling for.

“He’s fine, Erin,” Dave chided lightly. “You could call him yourself.”

“I tried. It went to voicemail.”

“He’s been off his phone more, like you suggested,” Dave added. “I just talked to him a couple days ago. He said he’s been leaving his phone around the house instead of staying attached to it, which is a good thing, if I say so myself. Quit worrying.”

“Alright,” she conceded. “I do hope this time off helps him heal.”

“I think it already has,” Dave said.

“And you haven’t discussed any cases with him?”

“Nope.”

“Has anyone else?”

“I just told you he’s off his phone,” Dave paused to chuckle. Who knew Strauss would turn into an overbearing mother over Hotch. “No, Erin. No one has.”

“Good, good,” she said, pausing. “How are you?”

Dave smiled. “I’ll call you later.”

After hanging up with Strauss, Rossi decided to send a quick text to Hotch. Strauss is worrying. Give her a call when you can, would you?

Hotch replied about half an hour later. Just saw she called, about to call her back. I was out on a run

Rossi smiled, wishing he still had Strauss on the line so he could say See? He’s doing just fine.

+++

A day of surveillance taught Hotch a few things. 1. The unsub lives alone with his son. No other family members means no unnecessary casualties. 2. The unsub is home alone most of the day while his son is at school. Presumably working a remote job. 3. This will be easy.

Or so he thought, because the next day took a turn.

Everything went according to plan, until the unsub ruined it.

Hotch parked down the street. Went up to the unsub’s door, knocked. The unsub answered. Hotch, prompted, “I’m a retired FBI agent, Jason Gideon. I’m writing a book.”

The unsub’s eyebrows furrowed, eyes narrowed. “No you’re not,” he said.

Hotch narrowed his eyes. “Excuse me?”

“I remember Jason,” the unsub laughed, good-natured. “You’re the other one, right? Morgan? No, Hotchner. That’s you. You were younger back then.”

Hotch was caught off guard from the start.

“You said you’re writing a book? Come on in.” 

Hotch took the opportunity and went inside, joking with the unsub that he introduced himself as Gideon in case he recognized him.

“No hard feelings,” the unsub joked back. “Want something to drink?”

Hotch didn’t answer. The unsub made the mistake of walking ahead, giving Hotch ample time to smack the unsub on the back of the head with the butt of his gun.

The unsub went down to his knees with a groan, but quickly regained his footing, spinning around to stare wildly at Hotch. “What the fuck?”

“Shut up,” Hotch hissed, barreling closer and swinging a punch, but missing. The unsub bolted for the back door and Hotch followed.

“You’re crazy!” the unsub yelled, twisting the back door’s knob. It didn’t budge. “What the fuck!”

“You killed your wife!” Hotch yelled back, cornering him against the door. “And you kept the kid. Do you hit him too?”

The unsub stared, bewildered. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play stupid with me,” Hotch growled, grabbing the unsub’s shoulders and slamming his head back into the door, forming a dent. “You know what you did.”

In one sudden move, the unsub lurches forward, knocking his forehead against Hotch’s, causing the latter to stumble backward.

“Shit,” Hotch cussed, anger brewing closer to the breaking point. “Oh, you--”

The unsub yanked the back door open and ran, the door shutting behind him just long enough. By the time Hotch wrenched it open and sprinted into the backyard, the unsub was gone, hiding in the woods.

“Fuck!” Hotch screamed, the sound coming from his chest. Not only was he recognized, but the unsub got away. Once he got his hands on him--

But for the next two days, that didn’t happen. The unsub fled the home, but Hotch knew, at least, that he wouldn’t dare go to the police. Not if he was as guilty as Hotch knew he was.

+++

Once the Florida case was over and the jet touched back down in Quantico, you knew you had to visit Hotch.

With flowers in hand -- that you nearly threw away five times on the way because you thought you looked ridiculous -- you knocked on Aaron’s door, not expecting him to answer. If he didn’t you planned to leave the flowers on the welcome mat. Either way, you were here to drop off flowers, check in, and say goodbye. That was all.

Hotch answered the door, shock covering him when he laid eyes on you. 

“Hi,” you said, holding up the flowers.

“Hi,” he echoed, standing in the doorway. “What can I do for you?”

You grimaced at the professional tone. “Just wanted to drop these off,” you handed him the bouquet. “And apologize for how things ended. For ratting you out.”

He shook his head. “It’s alright.”

“We miss you,” you said, smiling sadly. “But I hope you’re doing better.”

“I am,” he said, smiling softly. It almost looked too genuine, but you supposed that was a good thing. “And I’m sorry too.”

“It’s alright,” you echoed. “Don’t worry about it.”

And you left. Said something about how you just got back, didn’t get much sleep. He knew the drill. He said goodbye. And you left.

You left.

[sequinsmile-x]

Fourth - Chapter 4 - Three Months Old

Emily and Aaron get through the newborn stage, also known as the 'fourth trimester', together.

NOTE: Because of the time consuming nature of it, and tumblr being tumblr, instead of a tag list, going forward I would just encourage those who want to know when I'm posting to turn on post notifications <3

-x-

Hi friends,

Thank you so much for the love on this fic <3 I've enjoyed exploring the reality of having a tiny little baby with these two, and I'm so glad you've enjoyed it.

Please let me know what you think of this last part!

-x-

Warnings: List of tags can be found on the Master List

Words: 2.7k (okay I broke my '2k or less' rule for this fic but it was bound to happen xo)

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

She huffs as she steps back to look at her own reflection, swallowing thickly when she barely recognises the woman looking back at her. 

The jeans were new. She’d bought them last week, Lucas asleep against her chest in the wrap that had quickly become her favourite baby item, her focus on the weight of her son against her, rather than the fact the jeans were two sizes bigger than she used to need. Aaron kept assuring her that she looked beautiful, his expression and embrace as earnest as ever in their rare moments alone, but she struggled to believe him. 

When she looked in the mirror she didn’t see the sexy confident woman she had once been, the person she’d clawed back from the abyss when she got used to her body again after her injuries from Ian. Even when she was pregnant, she’d loved how she looked. The proof of her and Aaron’s love growing beneath her skin, her body changing and adapting to keep her little boy safe as she made him from scratch. Aaron had loved it too, his hand always pressed against her new curves, admiring the changes to her body in real-time. 

The further away from giving birth she got, the more she was struggling with how she looked. Her body no longer felt like her own. She was nursing her little boy and unable to eat everything she wanted to, his poor tummy sensitive to an increasing list of things, and too busy and tired to even think about working out. It was impossible not to feel inadequate when she looked at JJ, when she thought of how quickly she’d bounced back, and not just physically. How from the outside it had always seemed like she had it all together.  

She looks at herself from the side, grimacing as she pulls on the belt loops of the jeans, adjusting them around her hips, her critical gaze fixed on how the material gathered around her still soft belly. Emily groans as she turns so she’s facing the mirror head on again, her gaze drifting from the fit of her jeans to her hairline, one side of it noticeably, at least to her, thinner than the other.

“As if everything else isn’t bad enough my hair is falling out,” she grumbles, turning to look at Lucas sitting behind her in his bouncy chair. He smiles, his gums on proud display as he chirps at her, and she feels happiness she would have once thought impossible wash over her, “You, mister,” she says as she walks over, unbuckling him from his chair and lifting him into her arms. “Are very lucky you’re so fucking cute.” He squeals, again, and rubs his face against her chest, his tiny fingers tangling in her hair, “It’s just about time for your nap, huh?” 

She almost walks straight into Aaron in the hallway, smiling as their eyes meet, his hand briefly on her hip as she slips past him, “Everyone is on their way.” 

She hums at him before she blows out a breath, adjusting her hold on Lucas, “Good, that’s good.” 

Dave was the one who’d brought up the idea of having a barbecue, but as the ones with the youngest child, they ended up hosting. Now it was here, the grill clean and out in the backyard, an enormous amount of burgers and hotdogs stuffed in their fridge, she felt uneasy. She loved her friends. She missed spending time with them like she once had, missed when it felt easy, but she no longer felt like that person anymore, her priorities permanently shifted. 

“Em, are you okay?” Aaron asks, his brow furrowing as he steps closer, a smile flitting across his face as Lucas snuggles in deeper to Emily’s side, “If you want me to tell them we have to reschedule-”

“No, it’s okay,” she says, shaking her head as she cuts him off, “I’ll have fun when they get here. I’m just being silly.” 

He leans forward and kisses her temple and then Lucas’s head before he pulls back, “You’ve never been silly a day in your life.”

She smiles, love for him blooming in her chest, the flowers of it pressing against her lungs, “You’re sweet,” she says, leaning in to kiss him, her hand on the back of Lucas’s head to protect him from getting squished between them, “I’ll be okay, I promise,” she says, kissing him one more time before she steps back, “Do I look okay?” She asks, insecurity she hadn’t felt since she was a teenage girl getting used to long limbs that came out of nowhere washing over her, “The jeans are new.” 

“You look beautiful,” he says, winking at her, “Maybe if we get the baby down later I can show you how beautiful.” 

They’d had sex only a couple of times since the doctor had given her the all clear. The first time had hurt and it had put them both off, his insistence that he didn’t want to ever hurt her stopping him from ever going any further than flirting and suggestive comments. She knew that was the reason but it was hard to separate it from her own feelings of self-consciousness, a cruel voice in the back of her mind telling her it was because he no longer liked what he saw either. 

She smiles shyly at him and gasps in fake outrage to cover the flash of anxiety, “Mr Hotchner,” she says, rubbing her hand up and down Lucas’s back when he fusses, “I should feed Luke before he falls asleep before I have the chance.” 

Aaron nods and she can feel him watch her go, his eyes fixed on her until she disappears into the nursery.

“Alright, Lukey,” she says, kissing the side of his head as she settles into the rocking chair, holding him expertly in one arm so she can undo her shirt and bra, “Let’s get you settled.” 

She sighs contentedly as she nurses him, her knuckles trailing lightly over his soft hair, a smile breaking out across her face as his hand comes to rest on her breast. Impossibly tiny fingers skimming the edge of the brand mark left by a man who had once tried to claim her as his. She rocks them back and forth, listening idly as the team starts to arrive, thankfully following their instructions to knock and not ring the bell. Eventually, Lucas falls asleep, unlatching as he does so, and love for him that always seemed as big as it could get gets bigger. She rearranges her clothing and rubs Lucas’s back until he burps. She kisses his forehead and lays him down in his crib with the same care she would an active bomb and quietly leaves the room, grabbing the monitor on the way past. 

She’s barely halfway down the stairs when she hears a knock on the front door, the flair of it letting her know it’s Penelope, and she walks over, almost immediately overwhelmed by her friend as she opens the door. 

“Where is that precious tiny baby of yours?” Penelope asks enthusiastically as she steps past Emily into the house, barely casting a glance at her.

“Nice to see you too, Pen,” she replies sarcastically, raising her eyebrow at her friend, holding up the baby monitor in her hand and showing the grainy image of the sleeping baby in his crib, “He’s asleep.” 

“Sorry, Peaches. It’s good to see you, I miss your gorgeous face at work,” she says, squeezing her in a hug for a moment before she pulls back, “Am I the last one here?” 

Emily nods and links her arm through Penelope’s as they walk through the house, “I think everyone else is out back,” she says, her smile soft and relaxed in a way it never was anywhere other than right here in her home, “Aaron has the grill out. Derek, Will and Dave are probably all observing,” she chuckles, “And I’d put money on Spence playing with Jack and Henry.” 

“Not a bad way to end your maternity leave.” 

Emily hums, her heart stuttering in her chest at the thought of it, her skin tingling at the idea of leaving her 3-month-old in the care of someone else, “Yeah,” she chokes out, “Not bad at all.” 

She was struggling with the idea of going back to work. She didn’t feel ready yet. Most days she barely felt like a person, let alone an FBI agent who had to focus to make sure she stayed safe. The idea of leaving Lucas in daycare, no matter how good a daycare it was, made her chest tight, anxiety she’d never felt before overwhelming her. She was trying not to think about it, but she knew that tactic would only get her so far, that she had to speak to her husband about her doubts about going back to work like they’d planned. 

“Are those jeans new?” Penelope asks, a spark close to conspiratory in her eyes, “They look amazing.” 

Emily narrows her eyes at her as they step out onto the back porch, her gaze flicking between her friend and her husband, still standing at the grill with a spatula in his hand. She crosses her arms as she looks at Penelope again. 

“Did Aaron text you and tell you to say something?”  

The way the other woman’s eyes go wide, no matter how briefly before she covers her reaction, tells Emily all she needs to know.

She looks back at Aaron and lovingly shakes her head at her stupid, amazing, loving man. 

___

“You’re swaying again.” 

She looks over at her husband, her brow furrowed as he joins her in the living room, a cup of tea in hand intended for her, “What?” 

He smiles, stamping a kiss against her forehead as he passes her the tea, “You’re swaying.” 

It’s only then it registers, when she realises she’s swaying on the spot, standing up needlessly in the middle of their living room even though Lucas was asleep in the bassinet upstairs on her side of the bed. She clears her throat, her cheeks as warm with embarrassment as the cup of tea against her palms. 

“I didn’t even notice,” she says as she sits down, only realising how tired she is when she settles onto the couch. 

“You have spent most of the last 3 months with a baby who hates standing still glued to you,” he says as he sits next to her, his arm looped around her shoulder as he tugs her to his side, “And apparently, I do it too.” 

She smiles at the memory from that afternoon, how Derek had teased Aaron for swaying back and forth on the spot when he was holding a plate of burgers, holding the food with the same level of care he did their infant son. Derek had caught Emily out doing the same thing only a few minutes later, his tone teasing but the look in his eyes soft, his happiness that his friends had found peace like this after everything written across his face. 

“I almost don’t know what to do when he’s sleeping,” Emily says, sipping her tea before she places it down on the table, curling into Aaron’s side, “It feels weird.” 

Aaron kisses the top of her head and trails his hand up and down her arm, “How are you feeling after today? I know you were worried about it.” 

She huffs out a breath and tilts her head up to look at him, “It was fine, just like I knew it would be,” she says, rolling her eyes at herself, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but ever since I had Luke I feel…not myself. Not necessarily in a bad way, but like I’m a completely different person,” she laughs wryly as she shakes her head, “That probably doesn’t any make sense. It’s not like being a mom is new to me, Jack’s called me mom for well over a year.” 

“It makes sense, sweetheart,” he says, tucking some of her hair behind her ear, letting his touch linger on her cheek, “You were already a mom to Jack, but you’d never had a baby before. That’s life-changing in so many ways, and you’re doing an amazing job at being a mom to both of them,” his smile gets wider when she beams at the praise, her lips pressed together as she tries and fails to contain it, “You’ll get used to being this new you,” he kisses her, “And just know I love every version of you, no matter what.” 

She bites her lip and shakes her head at him, briefly resting her forehead against his temple as she basks in his unwavering affection, something she still wasn’t entirely sure she deserved even after all this time.

“You’re a sap,” she says, pulling back to look at him, her hand on his cheek as she pulls him in for a kiss, “I love you.” 

“I love you too,” he says, kissing her once more before she settles back into his side. He smiles when she pulls her phone out of her pocket and taps the screen, bringing it to life so they can look at the picture she’d taken a couple of days ago of Jack and Lucas, “It’s so strange to think he’s already 3 months old.” 

She hums, stroking her finger over the picture, somehow missing her son even though he was only upstairs, “It feels like no time at all and like he’s always been here all at once.” 

“I know,” he kisses her temple, “I can’t believe you’ll be back at work soon.”

She tenses before she can stop it from happening, her shoulders tight in his embrace, “Yeah.”

He’s pulling back to look at her before she can even think about covering up her reaction, and when she looks up at him she knows she doesn’t want to, that she wants to talk this through with him. 

“I…” she clears her throat, “I’m not sure I’m ready to go back. I don’t really want to be away from him yet, and it’s not like we need the money if I do go back,” she swallows thickly, everything she’d been thinking for weeks suddenly spilling out of her, “I’m not saying I want to never go back, I know I want to eventually, just not…now.” 

He waits for her to come to a stop, nodding when he’s sure she’s done, and he places his hand on her thigh, his palm warm and heavy through her jeans, “Okay.” 

She frowns, her eyebrows creasing together, “Okay? That’s it?” 

He smiles and squeezes her thigh, “Em, sweetheart, I want you to do whatever is right for you. If you don’t want to go back yet, you don’t have to go back,” he smiles and rubs soothing circles on her leg, “And I think its fair to say your boss is fond of you so I don’t see him having an issue with it.” 

A relieved laugh escapes her as she places her hand over his on her leg, “He’d better be fond of me,” she says, linking their fingers together, “He is my baby daddy.” 

He sighs and raises his eyebrows, “Please stop calling me your baby daddy,” he deadpans, fighting a smile as she leans in to kiss him, “I’m your husband.” 

She smiles into another kiss, sighing when she pulls back at the sound of Lucas crying, “Duty calls.” 

“I can go.” 

She shakes her head, patting his cheek before she stands up, “It’s okay, he’s probably hungry,” she leans down to kiss him, “I’ll go.” 

“I’ll bring up your tea,” he says, smiling at her when she turns to look at him, already in the doorway, “And a snack.” 

She smiles gratefully, her hand against the doorframe, “Thanks, honey,” she turns to leave, but stops herself, looking over at him, “Aaron?” 

He looks up at her, his hair delightfully rumpled, a soft smile on his face that he’d passed on to both of their sons, “Yes, sweetheart?” 

“I’m so happy you’re the person I get to do all of this with.” 

He smiles, his dimples carved deep into his cheeks, his love for her, for their family, seeping out of every pore, “I’m happy you’re the person I get to do this with too.” 

-x-

As always, let me know what you think <3

-x-

[tenpintsofsundrop]

Missing You

Gar Logan x Fem!Reader x Jason Todd Smut Blurb

Concept: Gar misses his two best friends. When he calls the two of you, he certainly doesn't expect to find you in such a... compromising situation.

Word Count: 2,800

Titans Masterlist | AO3 Link

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Full list of warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: there is a lot of Gar/Jason (emotionally and sexually), dubious consent - Gar listens to the reader and Jason having sex without their consent (but they don’t mind when they do find out), invasion of privacy (but again, they don’t mind it), would this be considered eavesdropping?, accidental voyeurism (and then on purpose voyeurism), Gar masturbates while listening to Jason and the reader have sex over a FaceTime call but Jason and the reader don’t know Gar is listening, Gar feels slightly guilty about being horny in this situation, lots of dirty talk, Jason is more dominant, reader is definitely submissive, Gar is (slightly?) submissive (though he is not ‘involved’ for most of the sex act), the reader uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina (though she is not really the ‘center’ of this fic), Jason has a filthy mouth, p in v sex (between Jason and reader) - actually protected sex this time (which is a surprise for my fics) (it’s my headcanon that Jason is a big proponent for condoms/safe sex), degradation kink (towards the reader), terms used to describe the reader: slutty/slut, cocksleeve, hole, fucktoy/toy, cumdump, good girl; slightly possessive Jason (but it’s clear that he doesn’t mind sharing with Gar), spanking (very light, no severe pain kink) - mention of clit spanking, mention of orgasm restriction, mentions of sexting/sending nudes. I believe that’s everything.

A/N: This is a repost. I did some tweaking to it, but it is still mostly the same. So if you have read it before, I hope you enjoy it. And if it's your first time reading it, I hope you like it again. I have a half-finished sequel to this in my drafts, so if you wanna see it, definitely leave a comment or an anon telling me you wanna see it.

...

The concept of butt-dailing was something that still mystified Gar. 

He understood why it was a thing in the 2000s, sure. A time when people’s phones still had tactile buttons on them, when you could sit on your phone in your back pocket and start pressing things by accident. But these days? Why was the term even still used? 

How can you call someone by accident? How can you have an entire phone conversation with someone by mistake? 

On that day, it hadn’t been Jason that called him - no, Gar was the one calling Jason. 

Gar hated to admit it, but he was fucking lonely. He had a soft heart and if he went too long without talking to his friends, without hearing their laughter, then he wilted like an unwatered plant. It wasn’t something that he ever said aloud, but it was something that was very easy to tell for the people who were closest to him. 

So Jason had taken to calling him on a regular basis. And ironically, because of it, the two had actually grown a lot closer in the Robin’s absence. 

Their friendship bloomed because of the long, late-night phone calls where Jason’s tired voice mumbled things to Gar as he fell asleep, admitting things about his past and the pain he sometimes felt that he never would have told anyone else. And they often spent hours on Discord calls as they kicked ass together playing COD or some other stupid game like Mount Your Friends. Even though on that day the Tower was practically empty, Gar found himself missing Jason the most. 

Ever since you had gone to Gotham to visit Jason, Gar’s other closest friend abandoning him, Gar had practically gone mad with loneliness. Rachel was off on a ‘girls trip’ with Donna, Dawn, and Kory, and Dick was attending some kind of ‘League’ business. Hank was leading a ‘be a better you’ sobriety seminar in another city, and Gar still found himself feeling like an outsider when hanging out with Rose and Jericho. 

So where did that leave him? 

Alone in his room, sprawled out on his bed. 

He had thumbed over Jason’s contact in his phone several times before he actually decided to put in his earbuds and give the guy a call. Surely his best friend wouldn’t consider him needy after the three hour long timestamps on their other calls. If Jason was busy, Gar could simply find something else to entertain himself. He could probably best his Resident Evil speedruns. Again. 

But selfishly, he was hoping Jason would pick up and talk to him for a while. Maybe you would be lounging around with Jason and he would get to talk to the both of you. That would be really nice. 

When the FaceTime call was answered on the other end, the screen was dark. Gar thought for a moment that Jason was just busy - that he was pressing his phone to his chest until he could get into another room to take the call. But for a few moments, all he heard was deep breathing, some grunting. The sound of Jason training? 

He was definitely inside Jason’s pocket. 

See, Jason hadn’t even noticed the incoming call. He had his phone on silent, and he had answered it completely by mistake. Turns out, the rapid, rhythmic thrusting of his hips had somehow successfully pressed the ‘answer’ button, even with the phone shoved deep in his back pocket. 

And Jason wasn’t really in a position to have a friendly, ‘let’s chat about COD’ video chat with his best friend. 

He was balls-deep inside of you. With his thick, hard cock out through the zipper of his pants with his phone still inside of his back pocket. He was thrusting into you where you were face down on his bed, on your knees exactly how he wanted you. 

It was a huge part of the reason you had come to visit him. The two of you had been fooling around for as long as you had known each other, and you couldn’t seem to go for very long without fucking the other person. It brought you both relief from your stressful vigilante lifestyle, and it was the best sex either of you ever had. Not that any of your friends knew that you had a ‘thing’ going on, of course. 

Gar was about to hang up the call, believing that he had caught Jason at a bad time and realizing that the guy didn’t even know his phone was on. But he froze completely still when he heard it. 

“Fuck, babe, take my cock.” Jason groaned, his voice absolutely thick with sex. “Fucking take it.” 

It was something that instantly made Gar tremble, made blood rush to his cock as he heard his friend’s voice in a way that he never had before. The sound was rough in his headphones, distant and not nearly as pure as it would have been in person. But it made Gar’s blood run hot in seconds, made him so turned on so quickly that he became dizzy. 

Gar’s hand itched to reach down and grip his cock through his pants, but he knew that he shouldn’t. He knew it was wrong. He should just hang up the call and hope that Jason never saw it in his call history. The longer he stayed there and listened, the more suspicious the timestamp would look in the call history if Jason ever saw it. 

But Gar was frozen in his tracks when he heard something that absolutely made his head spin. 

“Yes!” It was your voice. “Fuck, I fucking love your cock. I’m just a slutty little cocksleeve for you, Jay!” 

High pitched and needy, moaning out - it was you. You, screaming those entirely pornographic words, followed by a deep grunt from Jason. 

Gar let out a sharp breath. It hadn’t occurred to him who Jason might be fucking. Or that he was fucking someone at all, and that he wasn’t just alone, fucking his own hand. 

Gar almost couldn’t believe that this was happening. The two people that he had been attracted to for so long now, playing out an epic sex fantasy for his own ears. He knew that it was so horribly wrong, but he probably wouldn’t have hung up the call if someone had pointed a gun to his head. 

“Yeah, you are.” Jason replied, his voice slightly obscured from the phone being in his pocket. “You’re my perfect slut. Such a good fucktoy, aren’t you, Y/N?” 

Jason saying your name with such a deep, possessive need, paired with the way he spoke so confidentially - it forced Gar to imagine how long the two of you had been in a relationship like this. How long the two of you had been playing around behind everyone’s backs to know each other’s kinks so well without crossing any boundaries. Even with his brain so lust-clouded, his thoughts flashed through all of the times you and Jason had snuck off together, or made lame excuses to go to bed early when Jason had still been living at the Tower. 

Gar was upset that he hadn’t found out about this sooner. His brain conjured up a fantasy of him sneaking into Jason’s room late at night, and seeing you on your knees for his best friend. He easily imagined Jason inviting him to stay, telling Gar what a slut you were, how much you would love to have two guys at once. Him and Jason passing you around, your wetness making both of their cocks shine. If you were the ‘fucktoy’ that he claimed you to be, it probably wouldn’t be that far from reality. 

There was a wet, slapping sound - Jason fucking into you harder as you moaned and struggled for breath. 

Gar’s cock pulsed with need. 

Something in the back of his brain screamed that it was wrong and that he needed to hang up, but his cock screamed louder. So he untied the string of his pants with haste and racked them down over his aching balls. Just to be safe, he muted his end of the call so that Jason wouldn’t hear any noises he made. 

(If he had been thinking a bit clearer, he would have realized that any noise he made, especially echoing into Jason’s back pocket, would have simply gotten lost in the haze of sweat and sex that the two of you were making in Jason’s bedroom. But - better safe than sorry, right?) 

In his mind, muting the call seemed even more reasonable when he let out a deep moan the second he took his hard dick into his hand. More beautiful sounds from you and Jason came in through his headphones as he began to jerk himself off. 

“Fucking love how you take my cock, fucking love how this slutty pussy gets so wet for me.”

Jason’s dirty mouth continued as Gar’s hand started a steady rhythm. Gar was already leaking precum that easily slicked him up - he was absolutely dizzy at the sound of Jason’s sex-graveled voice. 

“Just a fucking hole for me to cum in.” Jason growled. “You love it, don’t you? You love being my fucking toy. My fucking cumdump.” 

The pure filth coming out of Jason’s mouth surprised Gar, just as much as his own reaction did. The way his dick jumped in his hand and his lungs released a moan, his tip leaking even more precum at the words. He had no fucking idea that you and Jason were so dirty, that you liked being… degraded so much. Because clearly you loved it, with the wailing moan that you echoed back in response. 

“I love it!” You told Jason, your tone desperate and breathy, worn with sex. “I love being your cumdump. I’m just a hole for you to use!” 

Gar tried to imagine what the two of you might look like in that moment. Were you on your back, your legs spread wide for Jason? Were you completely naked with your tits swaying with his every thrust? Were you on your hands and knees, ass out like a bitch in heat for Jason? 

Gar pumped his cock faster at the thought, his precum making it sound absolutely slick, unrestrained grunts coming from his parted lips as he continued to listen you and Jason fuck. He would feel guilty for this later, but right now, he was absolutely dizzy with lust and needed to hear more. 

“You gonna cum on my cock, slut?” Jason’s voice was sharp, demanding. 

It sounded like Jason was holding back the urge to cum himself and he needed you to get there first. There was a sharp sound - skin hitting skin, higher in pitch and less muffled than the constant pounding of Jason into your cunt. Jason had spanked you. Gar’s orgasm swelled in his belly as he imagined Jason’s hand coming down against your skin, making the fat of your ass bounce or - fuck, Jason’s hand blooming against your wet clit. (Gar hated that he would never know which it actually was.) 

“Be a good girl. Cum for me.” Jason demanded, throat strangling his voice as he drowned in his own arousal. 

And just like that, you dissolved into a fury of sounds. Gar caught you chanting ‘I’m a hole! I’m a hole! I’m a hole!’ as though it was the only thing on your mind, increasing in volume as your orgasm overtook you, but it was muffled after a moment and Gar heard Jason grunt the words ‘shut up’ in the most sharp, dangerous voice he had ever heard from his best friend. 

Gar’s mind was immediately struck with the picture of Jason’s hand on the back of your head, shoving you into the bed to quiet your whorish moaning, and this was what sent him over the edge. His stomach curled so hard that it practically made him nauseous, his body drawing up off the bed as he pumped his cock hard and fast. He pumped himself dry as cum splashed up over his (thankfully) naked stomach and dirtied him in hot, white waves. 

Gar’s body was still trembling when he heard Jason rattle out a shuddering moan, a sure sign that he was cumming too. 

Gar should have rushed to end the call. 

But it seemed impossible to move at this point - his bones were practically made out of jelly from the intensity of his orgasm. The hand holding the phone had dropped it against his chest, the sound still coming in clear from his earbuds. He was desperate to catch his breath, and his cum still warm against his stomach when he heard it. 

There was a shifting, a rustling sound - fuck, Jason was taking his phone out of his pocket. 

Gar panicked. 

But his orgasm had been so spectacular that it had knocked all the sense out of him, including his usually good reflexes, so he was slow to pick his phone back up. When he did, his heart jumped in his chest when he found Jason staring at him, wearing a wide smirk. 

In the time it had taken Gar to recover, Jason had taken his phone out - with the original purpose to check the time. Alfred always had a very specific time for dinner, and always became cranky if anyone was late. Jason certainly didn’t need anyone to come looking for you and him, seeing the compromising position that you found yourselves in. 

Jason was surprised when he found the call with Gar going. And once he had checked the timestamp on the still ongoing call, he immediately knew what had happened. 

“Did you enjoy the show?” Jason said, his voice slightly rough from the sex, but entirely confident, unshaken. 

“Uh - I - I -” Gar stuttered. 

When Jason saw his lips moving and didn’t hear any sound, he quickly spoke up. 

“Unmute the call, dickhead.” Jason told him, giving a small chuckle with the offensive, affectionate nickname. 

Right. Gar had muted it to participate in his perverted voyeurism. 

As Gar reached up to find the button, he realized his hand was still covered in cum. 

Jason licked his lips as he saw substance smeared all over Gar’s palm and saw his friend reaching for tissues off to the side. As Gar raced to clean off his hand, you appeared behind Jason’s shoulder in the frame of the call. You were wearing a bra, your skin slightly slicked with sweat and tear tracks coming off the side of your eyes - clearly from pleasure and not from pain. 

“You had Gar on a FaceTime call?” Your tone was a breathy giggle, clearly not at all upset at the idea that your friend had been listening in on you being fucked and called degrading names. “Kinky. Did you call him while you were putting the condom on?” 

Gar unmuted the call with his now clean(er) hand, but waited in silence for you and Jason to finish your conversation. He was surprised that you didn’t seem to care; that you seemed to think it was some kind of pre-planned kink that Jason had executed. Gar’s stomach twisted at the thought of it, that you and Jason had discussed inviting another person into your sex life and you were more than okay with it being Gar. 

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.” Jason told you. “Go get cleaned up for dinner.” 

You simply nodded, and leaned in to give Jason a kiss - a soft, gentle sight that was entirely arousing in contrast to the rough, filthy sex that Gar knew the two of you just had. It was even more arousing when you walked out of frame and Gar heard another spank to your bare skin (clearly you weren’t wearing bottoms) - and heard you let out a delighted squeak in response. 

“Look, I can explain-” Gar began his groveling, but Jason quickly cut him off. 

“Quiet.” Jason said, his tone taking on a kind of authority that made Gar’s stomach jump. “Next time this happens, we get to watch you cum, or you don’t get to cum at all. Got it?” 

Gar’s cock was quickly filling with blood again at Jason speaking to him this way, so boldly, making sexual demands over his body. His mouth was dry and lost for words so he simply nodded in response. He opened his mouth to attempt to speak - to apologize, to ask for clarity, to ask Jason when ‘the next time’ would be. 

But now that Jason had Gar’s simple affirmation, he hung up the call. 

Gar - unable to help himself - stretched an arm out and took a picture of his half hard cock and his shirtless body, still covered in his cum. He hesitated to send it, though. After a long mental debate in the shower, it came back to his phone sitting on his nightstand, and sent it to Jason with a caption that read ‘I really did enjoy the show’. 

It pinged Jason’s phone when he was sitting at the dinner table with you and Bruce. And as he looked at it under the table, he choked on his peas.

[necrotic-nephilim]

Sorry if this might be a rude question but why don’t you just make a seperate account for your nsfw fics?

not rude, it's a valid question! tbh it's a combination of a couple reasons.

i started posting anonymous dead dove batcest fics long before i had the balls to make a tumblr. at first i was content to just leave them unassociated with each other because i didn't really care about them being tied to me. i made this blog to actually show solidarity to my partner who wanted to make a sideblog for Sandman comic stuff so we could cheerlead each other and be brave together, since i've wanted to make a batcest sideblog but i've been nervous about actually having to get it going. (mal ik you're reading this go be brave and actually make your blog so i can cheerlead you damnit-) only did it dawn on me then that i should probably mention the fics i've written on the blog after like, three of them were posted anonymously. and it would've annoyed me to have half of them anonymous and half of them not, because notifications for them would've gone in different places. i could go back and take my fics off anon if i wanted to, but i can't switch the account they're on without taking them down entirely and that'd fuck over people who have them bookmarked already.

which, ties into my second reason, if i made an entire second ao3 account it'd be harder for me to see notifications, reply to stuff, and post things for both accounts because i'd have to constantly switch. and honestly i'd be terrified of accidentally posting on the wrong one on a brain fog day. posting fics is always the most tedious part of writing them for me lol. it's easier for me to stay logged into one account and have all of my stuff in one place for me and just use the anonymous collection when i feel like it. if ao3 pseuds worked like tumblr blogs, where you can't see all my side blogs but i can, i would've used pseuds, but since you can see all pseuds on an ao3, i felt it was a moot point.

and the last reason is i just feel more comfortable being anonymous on ao3 because of the rise in anti culture. on tumblr it's very easy for me to just filter that out and find the people i want to follow and block the people i don't. i don't mind getting hate, on tumblr or on ao3. but i think, for whatever reason you want to blame it on, there's been a massive boom of antis on ao3 who are very entitled about how they read on ao3. i tag extensively, but i just feel safer from getting targeted attacks if everything i write on ao3 isn't attached to one profile. if people like a fic i wrote, want to find more i always link my tumblr in the notes, but if an anti wants to get huffy with me, they can't easily track down my other things. they definitely could if they wanted to, but being anonymous on ao3 just makes me feel more secluded, in a weird way. it's like saying "if you want you can come find me but on here i'm just a weird faceless guy throwing stuff in the void". i've used ao3's anon feature a lot, actually, i used to be a hydra trash party dumpster kid back when that was in it's prime.

i also used to be vaguely popular on a different tumblr blog and my main ao3 and while i think it'd definitely be cool if i got a decent chunk of followers on this blog too, i don't really miss having fanfiction do so well i got targetted hate on all of my fics from the same people, i had my fics stolen, etc. it was really exhausting for me. i have 120+ works on ao3, not counting what's anonymous, and that level of exposure tires me, even when i use my main ao3 to post things that aren't trashy. it's just a weird feeling knowing so many people are subscribed to you on ao3 and what if you post something they won't like because you jumped fandoms again, or you're posting something niche, or you don't think it fills enough fandom tropes to be well-liked. i used to obsessively think like that, and it made me not write the things i wanted to because i cared about numbers. and i don't want to slide back into that hole. writing on anonymous is mostly to remind myself i wrote this for me, and if other people like it, they can come find me, but i don't have to perform like that anymore. if i get a really weird fucked up idea, i can write the really weird fucked up idea. at the end of the day, just makes me more comfortable! but i get it's a super confusing set up from an outsider perspective so, i really don't mind the question, thank you for asking!!

[paperweight91]

Like I’m Gonna Lose You Part 3

Summary: The morning after your date with Ransom you have to finally face reality, and everything that comes with it.

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Soft!Ransom, talks of threesome, poly? Maybe?

Pairings: Andy Barber x Reader, Ransom Drysdale x Reader

A/N: Guys! It’s here! I’m honestly going to need alllll the feedback here…this is how I saw the story shaping up the whole time…but idk if you’re going to like it! Likes, reblogs and pleeeeaasse all the feedback (did I mention feedback?) thank you ❤️❤️

Monday saw you waking to a text from Ransom. Good morning Kitten.

A smile spread across your face as you responded with your own morning greeting. Stretching as you check through all the notifications you received overnight. A few emails from crappy email lists, a couple posts on instagram…and all those texts you ignored from Andy.

Andy: Sweetheart, I’m sorry please can we meet?

Andy: I need to talk to you. It’s important.

And about 10 more all with the same tone. Ugh, was he always like this? Maybe I should just agree to meet with him and tell him it’s over.

Andy, I am going to the coffee shop this morning before work. If you really want to talk you can meet me there, but I will not be late for work.

There that was direct, not flirtatious…why do you feel like you need to text Ransom and tell him. No, it was one date. Besides you’re meeting with Andy to make sure he knows it’s over.

With a weariness that had entirely replaced the easy calm morning, you decide to call Ransom while you get ready.

“Well I knew you missed me Kitten, but I didn’t know you missed me that much.” You can hear his smirk through the phone.

You sigh before you respond, “Hilarious Ran. I uh I actually have something I need to talk to you about.” You place your make up supplies on the counter.

“What’s up?” His tone has changed. More guarded maybe? You can tell he’s already on edge.

“I’m, well, I’m going to meet Andy for coffee this morning.” There you said it, it’s out there. Except there’s silence on the other end of the line, you can’t even hear him breathing anymore. “Ransom? Are you still there?”

“Why?” He’s pissed. You definitely shouldn’t have called.

“He’s been blowing up my phone since the gala. I figure I’ll go, let him say his peace and then make sure he knows it’s over.” You examine your finished makeup in the mirror, then glance down at your phone. Hoping Ransom will understand.

“I’ll take you, then drop you to work. Show up on my arm and he’ll definitely know he’s lost to the better man.” At least he’s saying more words. But his tone it’s still the same, you have a feeling you’re going to pay for this later.

“Ransom, I don’t know if that’s a good idea…” you trail off. The last thing you want is a big scene in the middle of the coffee shop.

“I’ll be there in 10, be downstairs.” And with that the line clicks off.

You sigh as you grab your stuff for work. This is going to be terrible.

As soon as you get downstairs you see Ransoms car pull up. You walk over quickly, and get in when he unlocks the doors.

As you plop into the seat the words start rushing out of you like you can’t control them. “Ransom, I’m sorry…I just I didn’t know what else to do and I didn’t want to keep it from you. That didn’t feel right, like I was betraying you. And I know, I know it’s been like one proper date. But -“

Ransom cuts you off with a kiss. This one full of heat, nowhere near as tame as the kiss he gave you the day before. You feel his tongue press against the seam of your lips and you open up to him. Your hands come up and grip onto his chest, not to push him away…just to hold him.

“You’re far too sweet, you know that?” He’s breathless as he pulls away. “So tell me which coffee shop we’re going to.”

You tell him the name and he pulls up the directions on his phone. You sit the entire ride mulling how you want this interaction with Andy to go. You still love him. You know that. You’re falling for Ransom, almost as fast as you fell for Andy. Are you in love with two different men at the same time?

Before you know it Ransom has pulled into a spot at the coffee shop and is opening your door to help you out. It’s only now you can admire how wonderful he looks. Hair just so, round sunglasses and dark brown jacket over his cream sweater. He looks so put together and so much further ahead in life than you.

He walks with you into the coffee shop with his hand on the small of your back. You spy Andy sitting at the same table that you had your first date with him, glaring daggers at Ransom. “Go speak to him Kitten, I’ll get coffee.”

You smile up at Ransom and lean up to peck him on the cheek before making your way to Andy.

“You brought your boyfriend?” His voice is thin, great now he’s pissed too. At least you’re two for two today.

“Ransom knows everything Andy. He was driving me to work anyways this morning.” It’s a small lie, but you can tell by the look on Andy’s face he isn’t buying it.

“I wanted you to be the second to know, I’m filing today.” What? He can’t mean…

At your perplexed look he continues, “Laurie saw me sneaking out of the ladies room after you at the Gala. Accused me of sleeping with you right in front of her.”

As Andy finishes his speech Ransom joins you both at the table sliding your cafe mocha over to you, while he sips on his tea. You’re sure he heard everything at least the most important parts.

“Sweetheart,” he slides his hand across the table to take yours. “You told me you love me. I couldn’t say it back before because I didn’t know if I could leave Laurie. But now, knowing that it’s over I can tell you the truth. I love you, I think I have for months now, and was just too scared to say it out loud.”

You look down at your hand in Andy’s, you think you may be in shock. Yes you gave him the ultimatum, but you didn’t think he would actually leave his wife for you! Next you look up at Ransom, his face is cold, like he’s expecting you to run back to Andy. What the hell do you do?

You clear your throat, and take a sip of your drink. “Andy, why couldn’t you have said this a month ago?” You feel the tears beginning to well in your eyes. “I love you, I do, but…” you trail off and reach for Ransom with your free hand. You see the shock on both his and Andy’s faces. Ransom takes your offered hand and you squeeze both of their hands at the same time. “I can already feel myself falling for Ransom. I have feelings for you both, and if I’m being totally honest with myself, I don’t want to lose either of you right now.”

You can’t look either man in the eye. You’ve asked for too much, there’s no way they would even consider-

“So wait, you want to date us both at the same time? Like a threesome?” Leave it to Ransom to come out with something so crass. But now that it’s out there, it does sound awfully good to be sandwiched between these two men. The thought sends a thrill up your spine that settles right in your core.

Andy scoffs at Ransom, before looking at you. And he can see it plain as day. “Is that what you want Sweetheart? You want Ransom and I?” His tone is sweet but teasing.

Your face feels so hot you think you could fry and egg on it. “I don’t, that’s not, I mean not that I would be opposed to…” your phone chimes - you’re late for work, and this is not where you saw this conversation going at all. “I ugh, I have to go to work. I will message you both later.”

With that you order an Uber on your phone and leave the two men sitting at the table scowling at each other. What kind of mess have you gotten yourself into.

You’re not entirely sure how you were supposed to make it through a day of spreadsheets and meetings, when all you can think about is Ransom and Andy naked in your bed.

During your last meeting of the day you're so spaced out you don’t even realize that it’s over, and everyone is packing up to leave the boardroom until Levi nudges you. You make an excuse of not sleeping well the night before and quickly scurry back to your desk. This day could not have taken longer, and yet you’re dreading having to go home and figure out this situation you’ve gotten yourself in.

Why did you have to sleep with a married man? Why?! And now look at you, selfishly coveting two of the most beautiful men you had ever met for yourself. You decide you need time away from both of them. You open your messaging app and start a group text, because why not at this point.

Guys, I know we still need to talk, but I need time. This is a lot.

Two typing bubbles appear almost instantly, like they were staring at their phones waiting for you to text. Luckily, Nina at reception has offered to give you a ride home so you don’t have to splurge on yet another Uber today. The two of you complain the entire way home about the managers, the upcoming deadlines and the worst client that came in today. It’s nice, normal. Letting you escape the sordid thoughts that had been following you all day. You thank Nina as you leave the car and walk up to your apartment.

Hanging up your coat and putting your boots on the rack to dry you decide to start on dinner. You know you’re avoiding having to look at the messages from them, but you did ask for space for a reason. You make a baked feta pasta that you love and once it’s in the oven you finally decide to check your phone.

Andy: Of course Sweetheart, take all the time you need. We’ll be here. Love you ❤️

Ransom: Don’t you worry Kitten. I’ve already got our next date all planned out 😉

You sigh, but don’t respond. You finish making your dinner and go get changed into the sweater you never gave back to Ransom. You settle in front of the TV to watch old Friends re-runs and enjoy your pasta.

As you're getting into bed you decide to send them a message, just to let them know you saw theirs.

Thank you both. I’ll reach out soon I promise, just need time. Good night ❤️

Somehow you make it through the rest of the week with only flashes of them both naked running through your mind. Work is busy, and that keeps you going. You don’t end up wallowing, but taking small moments to appreciate each man for who they are and what they offer. You realize you need to talk to them, and putting it off is only making the situation so much worse. You’re just not sure if you could handle any more rejection from either of them. Yeah they said they would be there, but really Andy just left his wife. What about their kid? And Ransom, even though it was so new, you could tell. It was the real deal, for you at least. What if he decided you weren’t worth the trouble? Ugh, you’ve created quite the mess for yourself.

By Friday, Ransom has grown impatient, you can tell by the text that comes through the group chat at 9 AM.

Ransom: I’m picking you up from work today, see you at 5 Kitten.

Maybe you should fake sick and leave early and tell Ransom you got an Uber. Looking at your banking app, you realize that there’s no way you can afford another peak time Uber this week.

Welp, torture it is.

Instead of waiting for you in the car Ransom comes into the office and chats with Nina, while he waits for you.

“Mr. Drysdale, are you sure I can’t get you anything?” Is she batting her eyelashes at him?! As you walk into the reception area, you find yourself glaring at Nina, and you catch yourself before she can notice. But judging by the shit eating grin on Ransom’s face, he saw. Whatever, it’s fine.

“You ready to go, Kitten?” Ransom holds his arm out for you to tuck yourself into his side. Nina now forgotten by him. You almost forgot how good he looks. Almost.

You beam up at Ransom, and snuggle in as close as you can. You bid Nina good night and let him guide you along to his car. The warm safe feeling you get from Ransom is something you’ve never experienced before. You know that your relationship with Andy was mostly sex. But even in the tender moments with him, there was always the underlying current of when is he going back to his wife. You wonder if, now that he’s left Laurie, you’ll be able to find the same safe feeling you have with Ransom.

You’re pulled from your thoughts by a horn in the oncoming lane. “Ransom, this isn’t the way to my house?” It comes out as a question, and you’re not sure why.

“I know, Kitten. You see we didn’t really get to finish our conversation from earlier this week, so I was thinking we should finish it over dinner.” He glances over at you while he speaks and you can see a spark of mischief in his blue eyes.

Your face heats up and you forget how to speak for a moment. All you can do is nod and clench your fists in your lap. Ransom finally takes pity on you and grabs one of your hands in his. Bringing it up to his face and kissing the back of it. Before you know it you’re there at Ransom’s house. Everything almost exactly as it was the last time you were here, except-

“Andy?” You breathe his name as you step out of the car looking over the roof to Ransom.

“C’mon Kitten, let’s unwind and talk.” Ransom has you tucked back under his arm in no time. He leads you into the house with Andy trailing behind you two. After you all shrug off your coats and shoes, you head into the living room. Ransom plops himself on the couch, while Andy grabs the love seat. You look between both men, seeing the expectant look on their faces ‘choose me’ they’re silently saying. Instead you walk over to your favourite spot - the floor to ceiling windows. You stare out for a few moments gathering your thoughts, they are racing. But you need to get words out. They need to know how important to you they are.

It’s Andy who breaks the tense silence that’s taken over the room. “Why don’t we all put our cards on the table. Sweetheart, sit. Ransom and I spoke after you left the coffee shop the other day, and we want to know what you think.”

At Andy’s command you find yourself walking over to the armchair, hah you chose neither, and sitting stiffly. Your hands curl and uncurl with anxiety, and something else.

It’s Ransom who speaks next, “Kitten, do you really think you’re falling for me?” There’s pink high on his cheek bones, but his expression is guarded. He doesn’t want to be hurt.

You sigh before you start speaking, picking at the hem of your blouse. “I know it sounds crazy, it’s been what? One date? And I know we’ve only known each other a week. I just, I feel like there’s something here. Something that is worth exploring and holding on to. The only other person I have felt like this with is, well Andy. And I know you don’t want to hear this Ran, but my feelings for Andy haven’t just gone away. They are still there, just as strong. But I don’t know how to handle any of this. I don’t know what to do. But I do know that I, I really want both of you in my life. It’s selfish, but all week I’ve thought about this. How wonderful it could be, but also how insane I must be to try and keep both of you to myself.” You can’t look at either of them as you finish your spiel. Maybe you said too much?

Andy gives a short laugh, that’s not unkind. More like surprised. “Listen Sweetheart. I know you’re overwhelmed. It’s a lot. And let’s be clear no one here is asking you to choose.” He gives Ransom a pointed look at this, to which Ransom just rolls his eyes. “We want the same thing you do. We talked, at length about what something like this would entail. If we could share you. We decided we need to talk it through, all three of us, to decide what we all are comfortable with.”

This is really happening!!!

“Wait. Andy, your marriage literally just ended. You just filed for divorce. Are you sure you want to get into something like this so quickly?” You ask the question, knowing you may not like the answer. But still you have to know if he’s emotionally ready for something like this.

“I am.” His response is short. But he looks into your eyes the entire time. You search his features seeing no trace of a lie on them. “For you Sweetheart, I think I’ve been ready for a while.”

You open your mouth to respond, but instead hear the doorbell ring. And just like that, whatever spell that was holding the tension in the room dissolves. You feel like you’re seeing both men for exactly who they are, and what they want.

“That’s the food, I’ll be right back.” Ransom leaves to grab the food from the delivery driver, and you and Andy both head to the kitchen to grab plates, utensils and drinks. Without the stress of a choice weighing on you, you can see that Andy and Ransom are trying, for you. Something that entirely shocks you.

You all return to the living room at the same time, Andy with two beers and a glass of wine, Ransom with the take out boxes from some fancy Italian restaurant and you with plates and utensils. You plop down on the couch and motion for both men to sit on either side of you while you start opening boxes.

Silence wraps around the room as the three of you portion out your food. But it’s not awkward or tense. It feels comfortable. After a few bites to satisfy your hunger, it’s like you’re all in sync with each other, because the conversation just flows. The same as your first date with Andy and your first date with Ransom.

When you’re all full and you’ve packed away the leftovers, “you can’t just throw this out Ransom it’s at least two more meals!” The three of you find yourselves back on the couch, but this time Andy is sitting with his back against the arm rest, with your back to his chest and Ransom snuggled into your stomach.

“So uh, how is this going to work?” You ask, there’s nerves and excitement behind your question. To stop your hands from moving too much you start stroking Ransom's hair.

Ransom sighs in delight at your action before speaking, “Well, we’re going to go on dates, you and me, you and Andy and you, me and Andy. Unless of course that’s not something you want?”

“No,” you answer far too quickly causing both men to chuckle. “That sounds great. So we’re going to basically be like a what a throuple?”

Andy’s laughter draws your head to lean into his shoulder as you look up at him. “Please never use that word again. But yes, like a normal relationship except there’s three of us instead of two.”

Your face heats as you prepare yourself to ask your next question, “and uh, what about umm you know in the bedroom.”

Ransom rolls onto his stomach from his side and crawls up you and Andy, “my my Kitten, I thought we were taking this slow.” He gives you a faux pout and then continues. “I’ll put it out there now, the three of us in one bed will be super fucking hot and I already know it.” He bends down to nuzzle his nose against yours before kissing the breath out of you. It's a filthy kiss that has your hips moving without your consent. But it’s what Ransom does next that has you moaning, he pulls away from you only to lean up and capture Andy’s mouth in a kiss as dirty as the one he just shared with you.

With a satisfied smirk Ransom pulls away, knowing he’s left you both wanting more.

This is starting to feel perfect.

[czenzo]

Missed Call

[ao3] Skullyle Internet Friends Series: [1 – Pretty Boy] [2 – Missed Call]

summary:

[00:13] Missed call from Skull Lucy frowned at her phone for the hundredth time that morning. “Has he said something horribly controversial again?” Holly said over her shoulder. “No, nothing like that," she said. "He, er— he called me. Or, tried to. It was just gone midnight, I was asleep.” “And this is bothering you because…?” Lucy finally looked up from her phone. “We’ve never spoken over the phone before.” One missed call sends Lucy spiralling. She begins to question her feelings towards her strange, snarky online friend.

words: 3,440 rating: T

notes: to all the lovely people in the comments for Pretty Boy who said they’d read more, this is for you!

edit: @vryfmi made some absolutely STUNNING artwork of a few scenes from this fic, and @edmeom's art of barista lucy and holly is GORGEOUS – please go check them out and give them loads of love!! vry and galri I owe you my LIFE you're amazing

[00:13] Missed call from Skull

Lucy frowned at her phone for the hundredth time that morning.

“Has he said something horribly controversial again?” Holly said over her shoulder. Lucy jumped so intensely she almost pulled a muscle; it was easy to forget how quiet her coworker could be when she wanted to.

“No, nothing like that,” she replied after her heart rate steadied. “He, er— he called me. Or, tried to. It was just gone midnight, I was asleep.”

“And this is bothering you because…?”

Lucy finally looked up from her phone. “We’ve never spoken over the phone before.”

“Ever? You’ve known each other a while though, right?”

“About half a year.”

“And you talk every day?”

“Near enough.”

Now it was Holly’s turn to frown. “And you’ve… never called? Never heard each other’s voices?”

“No.”

“Not even sent a silly voice note here and there?”

Lucy shrugged. “I’m not a voice note kind of person.”

A long, slow nod was her only response, which was more unnerving than Lucy would’ve liked to admit. “Is it weird? That we only ever text?”

Holly made a vague gesture. “If I were in your shoes, I’d think it a little odd, but—”

“Can I get some service, or is this establishment closed for gossip hour?”

Lucy’s head whipped around to find a customer waiting at the till, red irritation blooming high on his cheeks. She bit back an instinctive snarky response.

Luckily Holly had a knack for dealing with difficult customers, and rushed over to serve him with a beaming smile. “Of course! I can’t apologise enough for being distracted. What can I get for you?”

Lucy decided she was in dire need of a break. She set a timer, threw together a cup of tea and drifted off into the break room, finding comfort in the battered settee with with so many cracks and tears the original leather was barely visible.

She drew her phone out of her apron pocket. The missed call notification still sat there, taunting her for not knowing how to reply. Skull himself hadn’t said anything, either, which was incredibly unusual for him. It was bobbing on three p.m.; normally by now he would have sent at least two obscure memes, three colourful insults, and one post from their shared paranormal forum with added commentary on how stupid OP was. Instead, she hadn’t heard a peep from him.

‘Unusual’ was a massive understatement.

Her teeth worried the skin of her lips. What if something serious had happened, and she was too hung up on a silly missed call to check up on him? What if she’d done something to severely piss him off, and the missed call was his last attempt to hash it out?

Or—the most likely scenario—what if he clicked the call button without realising, and she was making a huge deal over something hilariously insignificant?

She took a swig of her scalding tea, let her head fall back to stare at the ceiling for a long, excruciating moment of contemplation, then eventually opened their chat.

The cursor blinked. Lucy steeled her nerves and reminded herself that she was being a complete tit.

[Joan] did you mean to call me?

There! Message sent; she was officially no longer a cowardly over-thinker. She relaxed and sunk further into the chair, but stiffened as soon as she saw that Skull was typing. Okay, scratch that—she was definitely still a cowardly over-thinker.

[Skull] yea we need 2 talk

Shit.

It took an embarrassing amount of time to type her response.

[Joan] shit, is everything alright? [Skull] no its p serious [Skull] thought it wldv been easier 2 talk abt it over the phone [Skull] but ur probs at work rn so ill just text it [Skull] hold on

Lucy straightened and waited with bated breath, tea all but forgotten about. In the time Skull took to type, Lucy involuntarily went through all of her worst-case scenarios one more time, and suddenly felt the need for a drink much stronger than tea. Christ—why was this bothering her so much?

[Skull] ive been diagnosed with [Skull] huge dick syndrome [Skull] its fatal. im so sorry

Lucy slowly placed her phone on the settee, counteracting the urge to lob it directly at the nearest wall. She gave herself a moment to breathe—in through the nose, out through the mouth, just like Holly taught her to do when a customer really got on her nerves—before cautiously picking it back up again.

[Joan] you’re a fucking menace [Joan] don’t pull that kind of thing again. [Skull] HAHAHAHAHAHA [Skull] dont lie joanie. i got you GOOD [Joan] I knew you could be a proper knob sometimes but I didn’t think it was this bad [Skull] clearly u gotta get 2 know me better [Skull] in all honesty tho i didnt mean to call u [Skull] the call button is right next 2 the block button [Skull] an idiotic design choice if i ever saw one [Joan] you ought to send the developers a strongly worded email [Skull] who the fuck says ought in a casual conversation [Joan] it’s a perfectly normal thing to say?? [Skull] yea if ur from the middle ages [Joan] ok shut up we’re not changing the topic [Joan] if you didn’t mean to call me, why did you go radio silent? [Joan] surely the normal thing to do would’ve been to say “Oops, my bad, didn’t mean to call you” [Skull] Oops, my bad, didn’t mean to call you [Joan] dick [Skull] huge one, yeah [Skull] its a serious condition [Joan] 🖕 [Skull] i didnt even realise id butt dialed you lmao [Skull] fell asleep right after. woke up like 10 mins ago [Skull] im a different creature past midnight [Skull] unaware of and unliable for my actions [Joan] good luck getting that to hold up in court [Skull] id charm my way into acquittal [Skull] all the lady judges would love me [Skull] actually so wld the non lady judges [Skull] im just that irresistible [Joan] more like irritating :/ [Joan] they’d declare you guilty so they never have to see your ugly mug again [Skull] u have no proof i have an ugly mug [Skull] for all u know i cld b on magazine covers [Skull] flexing. smouldering. [Skull] rock hard jawline [Skull] rock hard abs [Skull] rock hard thighs [Joan] I’m stopping that list right there [Skull] buzzkill. [Skull] i bet your manager keeps u in the back so ur face doesnt scare off the poor customers [Joan] I’m practically the face of the company [Joan] everyone loves me [Skull] this is some next level delusion [Skull] does ‘everyone’ include Pretty Boy [Joan] this is some next level obsession [Skull] im not obsessed with him [Skull] im far superior than him anyway [Skull] if he saw me in the street hed drop dead [Skull] out of pure shock [Skull] from seeing my rock hard jawline, [Skull] rock hard abs, [Joan] STOP [Skull] my sexy voice alone could crush his ego [Joan] I wasn’t aware voice cracks and nervous trembling could do that [Skull] kiss my arse joan [Skull] you have no idea what i sound like [Joan] and same vice versa

Lucy’s eyes narrowed. She had an opening here—should she take it? She took a sip of her tea, now disgustingly lukewarm, and decided to go for it.

[Joan] is it weird, that we talk so regularly but only ever over text? [Skull] cant say its ever crossed my mind [Skull] why wld that b weird [Joan] I don’t know [Joan] it’s just something a coworker mentioned [Skull] so THAT’S why the missed call got under ur skin [Skull] ur so painfully transparent [Joan] no I’m not? [Skull] denial is not a good look on u [Skull] if it bothers u so much we can just call [Skull] like any normal fucking ppl wld do [Joan] I suppose [Skull] its not a big deal [Skull] unless u swoon so hard at my voice u get a concussion or smth [Skull] which is highly likely [Skull] considering ur delicate disposition [Joan] wtf is that supposed to mean [Skull] last time Pretty Boy called u by ur name u almost dropped ur phone in coffee [Joan] in hindsight [Joan] mentioning that to you was a mistake [Skull] it wasnt [Skull] its a great addition to my joan blackmail bank [Joan] har bloody har [Joan] you’re a comedic genius [Skull] oh em gee its so nice 2 see my talent finally b acknowledged

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

Her break was up. Startled that the time had flown by so quickly, she checked the clock on the wall, only to find she was indeed due back on the shop floor.

On the bright side, she no longer had to worry about the possibility of Skull being a) dead, or b) eternally pissed off at her. Instead, her mind focused on the very real chance that she’d be talking to him on the phone in the near future.

Lucy was by no means completely inept; she could handle a phone call when it was necessary. However, phoning her old insurance provider to get them to remove her from their annoying mailing list and calling a close (could she consider them close when she knew so little about him?) friend acquaintance for the first time were very, very different things.

A hot burst of air greeted her as she emerged from the back and settled behind the counter. She’d been a barista at this cafe for so long everything was muscle memory. It was a mostly handy skill, until someone once switched the syrups around and she almost handed a hazelnut latte to someone with a severe nut allergy. Besides that, and… her tendency to text on the job… she swore she was a virtue to the company.

“Got a clearer head now?” Holly said over the sound of milk being steamed.

“Yeah. I brought it up, and now we might actually end up calling.”

“Ooh, how exciting!” Holly beamed, then added quietly, “Unless he turns out to be a creep, that is.”

Lucy took moment too long to reply. “I’m sure he isn’t.”

“…Yeah!” Was Holly’s response, full of fake optimism that was far from convincing.

A third voice—one Lucy was becoming more familiar with these days—came from the other side of the counter. “Who might turn out to be a creep?”

Lucy rushed to meet Lockwood at the till. Even on a Saturday, he was still dressed smartly. “Oh, no one. Just— er, a friend of mine.”

“They only ever text! He could be anyone,” Holly stage-whispered to him.

Lucy gently batted her out of the way. “You don’t need to spill my private life to customers, thank you.”

“But he’s our best regular.”

Lockwood beamed. “Glad to hear it.”

She playfully rolled her eyes and tapped the till screen out of standby. “Your usual?”

“No, actually,” he said, sounding ridiculously pleased with himself over something so trivial. “I’d like to try that new gingerbread latte, please.”

“A sucker for a Christmas special, are we?”

He shrugged. “Who can’t resist a bit of seasonal marketing? I’ll also have a slice of lemon drizzle too, if you’ll allow it.”

A huff of laughter escaped her. “Wow, you’re really branching out today.”

He gave her another one of his toothy grins. As he paid, he quirked a curious eyebrow. “What’s this about a maybe-creep you only ever text, then?”

“Oh, I can’t believe Holly told you about that.” Actually, she could—over the past month or so, Lockwood’s visits had become less by-the-script, and the two of them had learnt more about him than they ever expected to. Of course, it was a two way street, and as a result Lockwood gained a firm grasp on Lucy’s sarcasm, weakness for confident smiles, and now her friendship with a random guy on the internet.

She’d managed to avoid mentioning Skull to him, up until now. She was surprised the secrecy had lasted this long, though she was unsure why she’d been so keen to keep quiet about him.

“We met online,” she said slowly. Thankfully, putting Lockwood’s order together kept her hands busy and her brain occupied, which meant she had less energy to overthink how she’d explain her situation. “Met through a shared interest. We were— er, well, honestly we argued a lot, at first. I’m not sure how it turned into a friendship, but it did, and now we talk pretty regularly.”

“Every day,” Holly added.

“For…?”

Lucy shrunk in on herself slightly. “…Six months? Ish?”

Lockwood whistled, long and slow. “That’s quite a bit of time.”

“Exactly!”

“Holly, shut up,” Lucy said with very little venom. “We’re going to call. We’re going to talk. It’s not an issue.”

He leaned on the counter, watching her dust ginger onto his drink. “Right now?”

“What? No, not right now. That’d be mad.”

“Could be interesting.”

She slid the drink and plate over to him. “Don’t be nosey.”

“It’s in my nature, Luce.” He winked, taking a sip of his drink. “Gossip at heart.”

Lucy’s stomach did a funny flip. She playfully waved him off under the pretence she was in a rush to serve the next waiting customer, and was harshly reminded she forgot to put her phone on silent when her pocket was met with a barrage of vibrations.

As the atmosphere lulled once all customers had been served and seated, she returned to her chat with Skull. Most of it was pure gibberish, a poor attempt at grabbing her attention again by way of spam.

[Skull] did u fucking die??? [Joan] when will you get it into your thick skull that I have timed breaks [Joan] and once said timed breaks are over [Joan] I go back to work [Skull] yet here u r, still txting on the job [Skull] what a rebel u are, joanie [Skull] its cute u spend ur entire allocated free time talking 2 me [Skull] clearly u have ur priorities straight [Joan] if that were true I’d have blocked you ages ago [Skull] oh no, my ego [Skull] has PB swung round yet today [Joan] he just did [Skull] and? [Skull] come on. give me the details [Skull] don’t deprive me of the gossip [Joan] nothing really happened [Joan] he changed his order up [Joan] asked about you [Skull] he fucking what [Joan] my chatty coworker told him :/ [Joan] and he got curious [Skull] did u tell him abt my rock hard jawline, [Skull] rock hard abs, [Joan] stfu that wasn’t even funny the first time [Skull] lies + slander [Skull] what did u tell him [Joan] I didn’t expect you to care so much about what he thinks [Skull] i dont. [Skull] im looking for openings to bully him [Joan] I just told him how we ‘met’ [Skull] is that it?? [Skull] thats so fucking boring [Joan] I mean [Joan] we also briefly spoke about the whole Only Texting situation [Skull] christ. what did he say to that [Joan] he thought I was going to call you right there and then [Joan] on the shop floor [Skull] is he stupid [Joan] hypocrite [Skull] my intellect is vast and varied tyvm [Skull] y is everyone obsessed with the calling thing [Skull] whys it such a big deal

Lucy glanced at her phone sidelong as she wiped down the counters. Why was it such a big deal?

She dwelled on it for a moment or two, but was cut short at the sight of the whole screen lighting up with Incoming call: Skull.

At first, she simply stared. Pressing the red decline button would mean everything stayed as it was—no awkward first phone call, no pressure to make their casual, stupid online friendship something more meaningful, no caving to the expectations of the more socially well-adjusted people around her. But pressing the green pick up button would mean… well, it would mean talking to Skull. Like actual friends. What would they even talk about?

Curiosity gnawed away at her.

Lucy pressed the green button.

“You were staring at your phone wondering if you should pick up, weren’t you?”

She wasn’t sure what she expected Skull to sound like, but it wasn’t quite this. He didn’t sound significantly older or younger, though his voice had a slight rasp to it, and she could hear his smile—knowing him, it was more likely to be a smirk—through his words. It was unfamiliar, yet so undeniably Skull that she couldn’t help but smile a bit herself.

“No. I told you, I’m at work. Busy day.”

“Busy enough that you picked up the phone in the middle of your shift?”

She rolled her eyes fondly and signalled to Holly she’d be back in five minutes—emergency, she mouthed, gesturing to the phone at her ear—and Holly gave her a knowing look in return.

London’s wintery chill nipped at her skin as soon as she stepped outside, but the fresh air was nothing short of lovely.

She squinted up at the sky; grey clouds loomed overhead. “Why now? Why not call later?”

“Got sick of you awkwardly bringing it up over text,” he said, then added: “Wanted to see if you’d pick up.”

“Well, here I am. I picked up. Now what?”

A short pause. “You were the one that was so bothered by it all.”

“I wasn’t that bothered.”

“Er, yeah you fucking were. So, my voice: what’s the verdict? Are you swooning?”

She gave a harsh huff of laughter. “You bloody wish.”

“I can hear you moved outside. Needed some fresh air to cool your blush?”

“Shut up? You’re not funny. Besides, my voice is miles better. I bet you almost tripped over your own feet when I first spoke.”

“I’m nothing but elegant and graceful,” he said, playfully indignant, “even when faced with a really annoying, nasally voice.”

“Charming.”

A beat, then: “I didn’t know you were northern.”

A small, ugly snort escaped her as she contemplated this. At the beginning of their acquaintanceship they’d stuck to an unspoken rule of avoiding delving into their personal lives, but as time passed and they became more comfortable with brutally bullying each other under the guise of friendship, details had come out here and there. They were both English. She worked at a cafe. His go-to drink order was an espresso martini (I’d had you down as a guinness kind of guy, Lucy had said, to which he responded thats the worst fucking insult). The drops of info were random and sporadic, and ended up so Lucy knew Skull had a really stupid tattoo on his left arse cheek, but he didn’t know she was northern—and this, in her opinion, was downright hilarious.

“You do now,” she said. “Look, I really can’t talk for long. I already spend way too much of my shift on my phone.”

“This was an emergency,” Skull said dryly, “you had to succumb to social pressures and modern friendship conventions.”

Lucy huffed in disbelief. “Friendship?”

“Slip of the tongue. I meant rivalry.”

“Of course you did. Denial is not a good look— er, sound, on you.”

He scoffed playfully. “Don’t throw my own words back at me. It’s not my fault you’re desperate for my attention and companionship.”

“And it isn’t my fault you’re projecting.”

“Ooh, you’re pushing it,” he said, and Lucy really could hear his smile. “I could just hang up right now and never contact you again.”

She sighed wistfully. “That would truly be the dream.”

“A nightmare for you, more like. You couldn’t survive without m—”

Lucy took great satisfaction in hanging up on him, and waltzed back into the shop with a lazy smile on her face. To her surprise, it wasn’t Holly whose eye she caught first upon her return, but Lockwood’s. He narrowed his eyes for a moment before flashing a grin—it was his split-second of hesitation that made Lucy wonder if he’d been watching her call Skull through the window.

“So,” Holly drawled, leaning in close as Lucy returned behind the counter, “how was the emergency?”

“Awful. Three wounded, one fatality.”

Holly’s teasing smile froze; it was clear she still hadn’t fully accustomed to Lucy’s sense of humour.

“It was fine. It’s nice to just have that over and done with. Now I can stop thinking about it.”

“What was he like?”

“Exactly how he is over text— no, wait, his ego was actually more inflated. He’s a bit insufferable.”

“The smile on your face counteracts your words, Luce.” Holly playfully nudged her before diverting her attention to a waiting customer, and together they fell back into their routine. After the line had gone back down, she stole a glance at her phone, and held back a snort at the notifications waiting for her.

[Skull] how DARE you. how fucking dare you [Skull] next time we call I’m getting my revenge

[selkiemoonofficial]

Hi! It's a pleasure to contact you. 😊 I have to say that I love the content you post on Tumblr and how underrated and undervalued it is. You deserve much more recognition! Your work with 3D models is amazing. I've always wondered how you make them, what program you use to work with the bodies and avatars from the Attack on Titan Final Battle game. I love the Rivetra ship because I resemble Petra a little, especially a few years ago when I used to dye my hair red. Now it's brown, but I still like to think that Levi would fall in love with Petra, and I feel like that opens up the possibility that he could fall in love with me too. ❤️ I've been in love with Levi since 2021, and he is a fundamental pillar in my life, my emotional and physical integrity. He means a lot to me. 😍

Thank you so much for giving us these beautiful works. I've activated notifications so I won't miss any of your new posts. I don't want to miss a single story!

Oh my gosh thank you so much!!!!!!

I can relate tbh. As odd as it sounds, I used to feel the same way about Gaara from Naruto when I was growing up. One day, you're going to find your Levi. I promise <3.

My boyfriend (my irl Gaara) pointed out that rivetra is my "security blanket" as he calls it (a.k.a my emotional support pairing). Levi has also become quite the pillar in my life as well. He (and AOT in general) has helped me through some of the most difficult times in my adult life. But the Selkie Tragic Backstory ™ is for another day.

The Software I use is called Miku Miku Dance (or MMD) and there are a ton of tutorials on how to use it at www.learnmmd.com . It's really easy to learn and you can get the models from deviantart.com. Be warned though, it's a live-render 3D animation software so your CPU will NOT like it.

It means so much to me that you guys love the skits and my old youtube videos, though. It feels good knowing I'm not just throwing stuff out into the void of the internet like I used to.

[brighter-by-the-daly]

Rachel Daly x Millie Bright x Reader

Part Eight - ReUnited

Posted: 13/05/23, Edited: 26/09/23

Leaving you fast asleep in bed Millie was up and quietly packing, she’d booked flights home for you both separately from the team; they weren’t due to come back until tomorrow but she wanted to get you home as soon as possible. She called Rachel to let her know what had happened and that you were coming home early. She’d also taken a phone call from the police that the man had been charged, the video footage from the team and CCTV making it easy to convict him. The video had gone viral meaning there were hundreds of comments and an outpouring of support waiting for you when you got home, praise was also given to Millie for her quick thinking and take-no-shit approach.

Stirring awake at the zips being pulled around the suitcase, for a split second you’d forgotten what had happened in the early hours of the morning. Your best friend noticed your morning stretch immediately and offered a soothing tone of voice letting you know what was happening. Surprisingly you were feeling a lot better than yesterday and were thankful you had such amazing friends, knowing that it could have been a lot worse if it wasn’t for them. Undressing in the shower your fingertips ran over your forearm that was now a giant blotch of colours but found comfort in knowing they will fade and you’ll never have to see that horrible man again. Vowing to never go off by yourself in the future, you weren’t going to let this get to you; if anything it had made you feel more empowered to stand up for yourself and others. Glancing at your phone after washing the night off you to see all the notifications, only one name mattered. Rachy 👑.

“Good morning beautiful! You’re the strongest woman I know, I love you so much and can’t wait to have you home 💜 I know you’re sleeping but I’ll be at the airport to get you later with lots of kisses for my number one 😘😘😘”

A smile spread across your face at the thought of seeing your girlfriend, you’d missed her more than you realised - solidly confirming that you never wanted to be away from her again. You’d always thought you didn’t have to spend 24/7 with a partner, you didn’t want to merge into each other but maybe that’s because you’d never been in a relationship like this before.

Choosing to wear a long sleeve dress so you didn’t have to look at your arm, you tried your best to not let it ruin your last few hours in the sun and finished your book on the balcony until it was time to go. On the flight home Millie was much more subdued than when you arrived, letting you watch a musical with her knowing they’re your best medicine. The happy songs making you want to dance and sing, leaving the Barcelona drama on and off the pitch behind you.

Walking through the terminal the doors opened to show the love of your life waiting patiently for you to arrive, flowers and balloon in hand you launched yourself at her. Her arms squeezed tightly around your chest as your legs wrapped around her waist letting the balloon float up to the ceiling and the flowers drop to the floor. The only thing that mattered was each other. The only thing you cared about was each other. “My sweet girl” she whispered as her hand clutched the back of your head. Nothing compares to smooshing your face into Rachel’s neck and feeling your bodies pressed together as one. “I never wanna leave you again” your voice muffled into her “I’m never gonna let you leave me again!” placing you back onto the ground and holding your cheeks in her hands. Feeling her lips connect with your forehead you sunk back into each other; your safe place, your everything, your home being her and only her. Your anxieties blown away from simply being in her presence.

Millie had wandered off to find a trolley for the suitcases as Rachel took your hand and offered you a seat on top of them, pushing you through the airport like the queen she viewed you as. The three of you chatted about all the good parts of the holiday; she didn’t mention the incident because she knew you’d talk about it when you were ready.

After loading everything in the car, Rachel’s hand found her place on your thigh “I can drop you home before my game if you want?” she suggested quietly. “I don’t think so! What happened to never leaving me again aih?” you joked. “I didn’t know if you’d feel up for it?” she shrugged but you weren’t having any of it. “What a better way to cheer me up than seeing my girl in her kit for 90 minutes?” you laughed. She smiled as she reached through to the back seat unveiling your shirt “I bought it just in case” the love she has for you washed over her face. Jumping out of the car and dragging the suitcase back out of the boot the girls looked at you like you were mad, grabbing a bag, your jeans and trainers you made your way back to the front of the car. You handed your girlfriend a bag of presents and pulled your jeans on underneath your dress. She slyly watched you pull them over your bum then slip your dress off and her shirt on. Twirling around in front of her “like I never left” you announced as you plopped back in your seat. Rach watched you intently as your glow started to come back but she couldn’t divert her eyes from your arm that was now on show. You could feel her staring so distracted her with the bag “open your presents then!” She was shocked at the amount, looking at you in disbelief “I bought everything that reminded me of you!” you laughed. Mostly silly things like magnets, keyrings, a stuffed animal and a friendship bracelet. Stomping your foot onto the dashboard as you slipped your trainers on, “we’ve all got one! It was Millie’s idea to put them round our ankles, then you can hide them in your socks when you play” you told her, pleased with the idea. Bringing her knee up to her chest immediately to tie it around her ankle too before driving to Bescott Stadium.

During the drive you rummaged around your handbag trying to find any bits of make up you’d left in there, topping up your face carefully as Rach drove around the pot holes in the road. “Babe, you already look beautiful” she said, “yeah but your ex is gonna be there tonight, I need to look my best!” you announced. Villa are playing Man U today which probably means Rachel is going to be defended by her ex - Millie Turner - a topic that rarely gets brought up into conversation; you knew it was a mutual decision to split but that was about it. “I could put you in any stadium in the world and you’d always be the prettiest girl there” she beamed at you, leaning to place a kiss on your cheek as she pulled into her parking space. She opened the door for you, pulling you out and into her arms as she did. “You are the love of my life, don’t you forget it” placing a kiss on your forehead, each one of your cheeks and nose before ending on your lips. Her finger tips slipped down your arms and linked your hands in hers “do you want a jumper?” she asked quietly, wondering whether you’d want to cover your arm. “How’s anyone gonna see your name on my back if I wear a jumper? I’m okay, I promise” you reassured her. Linking your arms in hers and Millie’s who’d been sitting in the back quietly letting you both have your moment then strutted towards the stadium together.

Arriving at the entrance as the Man U bus pulled up and the players poured out Mary was the first to appear and spotting you all standing there let out a high pitch scream of excitement at seeing her friends, forgetting for a second that for tonight they were rivals. She offered her support to you and then congratulated Millie on her bravery, shocked to see you both there when a matter of hours ago you were in Barcelona. Millie T had heard the commotion and came out next, about to head over to her teammate before she spotted you and Rachel and quickly diverted into the building. Saying goodbye you told Rach to score which made Mary scoff, game face firmly etched on her now! You knew beating Man U would be tough, but not impossible “score more than one” you winked as the England teammates walked in together leaving you and Millie to find your seats.

Sure enough 2-1 to Villa at halftime, Rachel Daly on the score sheet for both of them. She had celebrated with her team before holding heart hands up to the stands towards you knowing she had done what you had told her to do, on a day like today making you feel even more special than usual. She really knew how to make you feel like the only girl in the world. Man U equalised in the second half and in the 87th minute Millie T was subbed on. A mere 6 minutes later she had headed the ball past Hannah, making your heart sink. To come away with a draw against the team at the top of the league would have been amazing but of all people it had to be your girlfriend’s ex that scored the winner. Knowing how gutted the girls must have felt you watched the teams fist bump and shake hands, noticing Rachel and Millie T exchanged words before she came running over towards you. “I’m so proud of you!” you shouted over to her, seeing the smile she started the day with had disappeared. “We lost!” her eyes rolled as she threw her arms into the air in frustration. “Only by one! It could have been a lot worse!” she shrugged at the truth in your statement as you watched Millie T walk towards where you all were. “Hey, I just thought I’d say I saw what happened to you. That guy’s a dick, I’m glad you’re okay” you nodded and thanked her “it was nice to meet you, you clearly make each other very happy” she smiled solemnly as she jogged away. You all pulled a face to each other that showed pleasant surprise - you didn’t expect that today!

The car ride home was a somber and pensive one, arriving home the ritual of the kettle flicking on as soon as you walked through the door warmed your soul. Immediately pulling your sweats on to feel comfy then lounged in the garden drinking your teas before Millie went back to her house. Before she went, Rachel stopped her “thank you for looking after her bestie” they hugged “hey, any time you know that” she reassured her “I’m just sorry I lost you in the first place (y/n/n)”, “hey you were there when I needed you, that’s all that matters” you said joining the hug. As the door closed behind her Rachel’s hand grazed your back, the slightest of touches making you feel a sense of calm and comfort. “I’m so glad you’re home beautiful” wrapping her arms around your waist “I’m so glad to be home” stroking her cheek and gazing into those beautiful blue eyes you had missed so deeply “never again do I want to be apart from you”.

Part Nine - Our Girl

[something-tofightfor]

Competing For Christmas Interlude: Under My Tree (Din’s POV)

Pairing: Modern Din Djarin x Female Reader

Word Count: 7,114

Rating: M. Language.

Summary: Din doesn’t know exactly how to move forward - but it seems like you’re going to meet him every step of the way. 

Author’s notes:

Figured it was finally time to see things from Din’s point of view ... and there was no better time to go there.

Questions, concerns, comments? My inbox is open!

Thank you for reading - and for giving me some leeway with being behind on chapters. I’m working on 6 now, so it should be out soon, though this story won’t be finished on Christmas, when I intended. I apologize for that.

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Masterlist  / Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5.1 / Part 5.2

He woke up before you did the next morning to the sound of the plow going by, Din’s eyes cracking open when it was barely light out. The fire was only embers, but Din was plenty warm, even under the thin blanket you’d draped over the two of you as you laid down. Because she’s still right here.

One of his arms was folded beneath his body, the other draped loosely over you, and he flexed that one, hoping that it wouldn’t jostle you awake. You’d both shifted in your sleep, you rolling over to face him, legs bent and tangled together. When he went to straighten one of his, he heard a quiet huff, his foot making contact with something even warmer than you - and furry. Grogu? 

Raising his head just enough to peek, Din saw the curled up form of the dog at the opposite end of the couch, Grogu’s eyes open and staring at the sudden interruption of his sleep. Sorry, pal. Carefully moving his foot into a more comfortable position, Din looked down at you before settling back against the pillow, fighting the urge to lean down and kiss your cheek or temple. 

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to - in fact, Din wanted nothing more, but after what you’d talked about the previous night, he knew it wasn’t a good idea. 

He hadn’t meant to tell you everything. 

In fact, Din hadn’t even known what was going to come out of his mouth when he’d started talking as you decorated. But you’d taken it all in stride, though he hadn’t missed the look of anguish in your eyes as he’d confirmed that he was expected to go back to Mandalore and rule, leaving his life in Mistletoe - and you - behind only a few months later. 

He couldn’t blame you for it. He’d let his feelings for you grow too quickly, and that fact had made telling you the truth much more difficult, even though you’d deserved to know. Especially if … if she really feels something for me. He didn’t doubt your affection, and the reaction you’d had to learning his secret had been genuine. He was also certain of you really hadn’t known anything more than what your friends had figured out that morning. And that means she liked me and not … what I am. 

It made everything harder, and as Din settled back down next to you, he closed his eyes, tilting his head forward and listening to the sound of your breathing. 

It was slow and deep, your lips parted slightly, and he risked opening his eyes again to get another glimpse of you. Because this might not happen again. 

It would have been easy to wake you up then, to whisper your name and wait until your eyes opened to say anything else, to offer you breakfast and the opportunity to see how the roads looked. But I don’t want to. It’s too early.

You’d accepted his story without hesitation, seeming to understand that even if he didn’t want it, he had a duty to Boba and to his country, and he wouldn’t abandon it. He wondered why you were taking the situation with him the way you were when you’d explained how upset you’d been with James. That man had been unable to commit to anything past the present, much the same way Din couldn’t give you anything but the promise of a few more months of his presence in Mistletoe. Maybe it’s because we aren’t actually together. Or because I didn’t lead her on. 

Whatever the answer, he was grateful that you’d listened to him, and even more pleased that he’d gotten the chance to wake up next to you at least once - even if all that had happened prior was actual sleep.  

Din wouldn’t be selfish and sacrifice Mandalore’s needs for his own long term, but he knew that a few more hours on his couch with you wouldn’t do any real harm. So he closed his eyes, letting out a slow breath… and willed himself to go back to sleep. 

— 

The next time he woke up, it was because Grogu was whining. He’d left the couch and was standing next to the door, tail moving back and forth. You were up too, shifting in front of him as you yawned. 

“You gotta go outside, buddy?” You pulled yourself out of his arms to stand, and Din watched as you moved across the room, opening the door enough to let the dog through. “Damn, there’s a lot of snow out there.” You stood in front of the glass for a few seconds before you turned back to face him, mouth set into a thin line. “I wonder if they plowed yet.” 

“Heard one go by earlier.” He yawned, too, covering his mouth - but he didn’t sit up. “So they’ve been through at least once.” Din finally stretched as you stopped next to the tree, reaching up to touch a branch instead of returning to the couch. “Come back and lay down, it’s still early.” 

“It’s 9:30, Din.” You almost smiled at that, raising a brow. “That’s not early.” 

“It is for a Sunday.” He patted the open space next to him - still warm from where you’d lain. “Just a couple minutes. Until we need to let Grogu in.” If you said no again, he wouldn’t have pushed, but you didn’t, stepping back toward him and then sinking down onto the cushions, Din lifting the blanket to encourage you back underneath it with him. “See, that’s better.”

“It is. You’re warm.” Sighing, you cuddled up to him, pressing a hand to his chest. “I don’t think I’ve slept that well in … months.” Good. I’m glad to hear that. 

“Me either. It was nice to have you here.” Both of you were silent then, Din looking down and watching as you stared at your hand, one finger dragging slowly back and forth over his chest. “I hope it doesn’t seem like I’m sending you mixed signals.” It came out before he could stop himself, and at your rapid movement - head jerking up so that you could look at him, he winced. “I didn’t mean to lead with that, I just …” 

Cautiously, he settled a hand on your hip while he waited to hear your reply. “What do you mean by mixed signals?” 

“I mean…” He sighed. “You know I have to leave. I don’t want either of us to …” Din wet his lips, closing his eyes. “Get too far ahead of ourselves.” 

“What, you mean like sleeping together on the same couch?” Eyeing him, you pursed your lips and paused. “Or like making out in your kitchen or mine? Or - “

“Yeah, like all of those things.” He laughed then, hauling you closer, and you let him, the two of you laughing together until you cleared your throat and flattened your hand again. Keep going. “It’s not fair to either of us, and I’m not an asshole, even though I’m sure there are a few people that would call me one.” He had no idea where he was going with what he was saying, so Din was thankful when you jumped in - like you had so many times since he’d met you - and spoke up. 

“So what does this mean, Din? No more mixed signals, like … no more touching? No more kissing? No more hanging out outside of the competition? Both of us ignoring whatever this is between us and pretending like last night didn’t happen and you didn’t tell me anything? Because if that’s the case, then …” You tapped on his chest again. “We probably shouldn’t be under this blanket together.” 

“You just …” Dank farrik, she went right for it. “You just got out of a relationship that you ended because you wanted something more permanent. I don’t want you to feel like you’re wasting your time with me.”

“Din.” You lifted your hand, running your fingertips along the edge of his jaw. “You just said it. I just got out of a relationship. Maybe … maybe knowing something isn’t meant to be long term is a good change for right now.” You chewed on your lower lip in thought and then spoke again. “Maybe it’s what I need. Or, what we both need. You can’t exactly just casually start seeing someone when you’re back in Mandalore, so…”

“Are you…” He blinked, struggling to catch up. “Are you saying that you want that? That you’d go into more of this with me knowing that it has to be casual?” 

“It’s not what I want, no. But if I’ve only got you for a few more months, I don’t want to deprive myself of any time with you.” You shrugged, the motion of your shoulders moving the blanket with them. “Like you said last night, we’re both adults. If that’s what we want to do, why shouldn’t we?”

It was more than he’d expected to hear from you - more than he could have ever hoped for - and he didn’t know how to answer. He knew what he wanted to say. He wanted to tell you yes, that that would be fine with him, that he would spend the remaining few months exploring what he had with you before he had to leave. But instead, he said something much different. 

“We should set some ground rules.” You recoiled slightly, but moments later, nodded, closing your eyes. 

“Can we set those over breakfast? I’m really hungry, and I know there’s pizza left.”

“How about actual breakfast? He sighed. “I’ve got a bunch of stuff - cereal, eggs, pancake mix… I think there might be some bacon in the fridge, too.” Your eyes lit up at the mention of other food, and when you nodded in reply, moving to sit up, Din was relieved - but didn’t let you go. 

“What?”  You stopped moving in his arms, waiting.

“Can I kiss you good morning?” It took you by surprise, but you only bit your lip in response, tilting your head.

“Is that going to be something that’s prohibited by one of these rules, Din?” Your lips curved up into a smirk, and though he’d worried you would deny him, he could tell by the look in your eyes that you had no desire to. “Because if so, sure. Gotta get at least one of those down before you crush my dreams and -” 

That was as far as he let you get, closing the distance between you until he could press his mouth to yours. Your lips were soft and warm, the smile still on them even as he leaned in, urging you onto your back and settling his weight partially on top of you, 

The couch was larger than normal - and it was much more comfortable, too, the two of you sinking into the plush cushions as you slid the hand that had been on his chest around to his back, the pressure between his shoulder blades growing as you urged him to stay close. 

He appreciated the fact that you hadn’t been shy about the fact that neither of you had brushed your teeth before falling asleep the night before and tried to deter him because of your morning breath. And the truth was that Din didn’t mind - if you were allowing it, he was going to take any and every opportunity to kiss you. 

But he didn’t try to deepen it, and when you did, he pulled away, wrinkling his nose and dragging his teeth along your lower lip. “None of that. You said you were hungry.” You groaned, your hand falling away. Even though he didn’t want to, Din pushed with one arm, lifting himself backwards and giving you an out. “I’m going to let Grogu in, if you need the bathroom, you know where it is down here, but if you just want to head to the kitchen, you can do that, too.” 

Blinking up at him, you waited a few seconds to move, gracefully rolling forward and then standing, raising your arms above your head as you stretched. He watched as you reached behind yourself to scratch the center of your back, but without a word, you turned and headed for the steps, diverting into the bathroom before climbing them. 

Once you were out of sight, he scrubbed both hands over his face and groaned quietly. “What the fuck are you doing, Djarin?” He was playing with fire - but a large part of him didn’t care. I came here to live my life while I could, and that’s what this is. 

He stood, too, heading for the door and opening it. Din whistled and then watched as Grogu streaked through the snow, tongue lolling out of his mouth. Skittering to a stop just before he barreled through the door, the dog shook himself, removing the snow that had collected on his fur, and then stepped inside, looking up expectantly at Din. 

“Yeah, I know you’re hungry. C’mon, pal. Let’s get you fed.” It took no time for Din to refill his water and food dishes, but since you were still in the bathroom and he didn’t know what you wanted to eat, he went back into the downstairs area while Grogu ate, opening the gates of the fireplace and kneeling in front of it. 

It felt cozier in the house with the fire going, and so he worked to get one burning, the tiny flames catching quickly thanks to the kindling he kept handy. “Offering me breakfast and building me a fire? What’s it called if you kidnap a king? I think I need to keep you here.”

“I’m not the king yet. And trust me, you wouldn’t be kidnapping anyone.” You laughed, the sound filling the room, and when Din stood and turned to face you, he saw what had taken you so long - you’d washed your face and attempted to fix your hair, though you were still wearing your pajamas. “Your clothes from last night should be dry, do you want them?’

“Nah, not yet.” He heard your stomach rumble before he could say anything else, and you rolled your eyes as you turned toward the steps, Din following close behind you as you passed Grogu and opened the refrigerator. “Want me to make you an -”

“Can I cook for you?” He paused. “I mean, you can tell me what you do and don’t eat, but -”

“Yes.” One hand on the fridge handle, you looked at him over your shoulder. “Yeah, you can. Also, I think my phone died overnight, can I plug it in somewhere while you start?” He pointed to the counter and a spare charging cable, and when you stepped away and toward your bag, he moved into position, pulling ingredients from the refrigerator and cupboards and setting them on the counter. 

He didn’t plan on making anything fancy - just a hearty breakfast since it had been a while since you’d eaten - but as he looked over what he had available, he decided to try and impress you - just a little. You brushed past him to plug the phone in, and then moved over to the other cupboards and pulled out plates and two coffee mugs. Without even asking, you set a pot to brew. 

Neither of you spoke much, though you did make it a point to bend over and scratch Grogu between the ears after the pot had started doing its job, but the silence didn’t bother Din because it was comfortable. 

Like he’d been the first one in your place since your breakup, you were the first woman in his house since he’d moved in, at least in the way that mattered. He’d had a coworker over a few times to work on difficult jobs after hours, and the man had been dropped off and picked up by his girlfriend since they shared a vehicle - but in Din’s mind, that didn’t count. 

It had been a lonely 8 months, but it had given him a lot of time to consider everything that he needed to expect from the rest of his life, and Din wouldn’t have traded the time for anything. Well, except maybe more of this sooner. 

Covering the sizzling pan and turning the heat down, Din turned away from the stove to find you sitting at the table and watching him, your chin resting on one hand. “What? What’s that look for?” 

“I’m just trying to remember the last time someone cooked me breakfast outside of a restaurant.” Tapping your finger against your lips, you grinned. “It’s been a while.”

“James wasn’t a breakfast guy?” He crossed his arms, leaning back against the sink. “Or just not a cook?” 

“He could cook, and he was actually pretty decent with the grill, but breakfast …” You hummed, closing your eyes. “I love breakfast, but we’d usually just grab something quick - cereal or eggs or toast. It wasn’t an actual meal unless we were out somewhere.” Oh, that asshole. 

“Well, I don’t know how much we’ll be having breakfast together, but I have no problem making it for you.” Your eyes lit up, grin widening. “And it doesn’t even have to be morning, either.” 

“Oh, perfect. Breakfast for dinner.” The coffee pot finished then and you stood, moving back toward it. “Coffee, Din?” He told you yes and then watched out of the corner of his eye as you rummaged through the cabinets for sugar, setting it down before you went back to the fridge and grabbed one of the creamer containers. “I know what you ordered the other day, but I’m not even going to try to -”

“Just a little of the flavor. No sugar.” He nodded. “It’ll be fine.” 

You poured the coffee as he started plating the food, Grogu standing by his feet and whining. “You already had your breakfast, little guy. How are you still hungry?” 

“I told you, he’s always hungry. You’d never know it looking at him, though, he’s still pretty small.” Nudging the dog away with one foot, Din carried the plates to the table and sat down just as you did, sliding one mug of across and toward him. “How’s it look?”

“Fucking amazing, Din. Smells great, too.” 

It felt oddly domestic to him - sitting and eating with you in his kitchen after cooking a meal, and he hoped that you could do it more often, even if it wasn’t in the morning. “Well there’s plenty left, so eat as much as you want.” He watched you take your first bite, your eyes closing as you nearly moaned at the taste, eyes rolling back into your head. “Good?” 

He barely managed the single word, his grip on his own fork tightening at the sound you’d just made. Damn, it’s going to be … “It’s great Din, this tastes like you spent hours cooking it.” He finally took a bite, too, trying to distract himself - but you kept talking. “Where’d you learn how to cook?” 

“It was actually one of the things we did at school. Everyone had to learn. And I just kept going after I finished - got better over time. I cook a lot for Fennec, even though she could eat way better than my cooking, because she lives in the palace.”

“Boba’s palace.” You swallowed, sipping your coffee. “And soon to be yours. I bet that kitchen’s amazing. I hope you have time to cook after you’re k… Mand’alor.” He appreciated the fact that you corrected yourself. The terms were somewhat interchangeable, but it was a sign of respect to use the Mandalorian language, especially as an outsider. “Are you going to be able to take Grogu back with you?”

“Yes. He’s family.” Din took a long swig of coffee. “Boba and Fennec can’t wait to meet him.” He glanced down, eyeing the dog as he laid next to the table on his side, legs stretched out. “Not very regal, but…” You snorted, looking down too. 

“He’ll learn. Get him a friend or something to teach him the ropes.”

“He’s one of a kind.” Din sighed. “And, to be honest, I don’t think I could handle two of him right now, so once I’m … busier, it’ll be even less possible.” 

“You’d figure it out.” Chewing, you narrowed your eyes at him. “So, Din… what are these ground rules you wanted to establish?” He nearly choked on what he had in his mouth, the man coughing as he leaned forward, bringing a closed fist up to stifle the sound. “Or just go ahead and choke on that instead of - “ 

“Gimmie a second.” He coughed again, shaking his head. “You really just jump right in, don’t you.” 

“I do. I want to know what to expect from situations, and … I really want to know what to expect from this one.” You got up then, walking over and pulling out a carton of juice and then another glass. “Want one?” 

“Sure.” That one you poured for him with no pause, replacing the carton and then carrying both glasses to the table. “Thank you.” 

“Yeah. Like I was saying, Din… I like knowing where things stand. And the sooner I know what you’re… what you want, the sooner I can figure out if it’s something I’m capable of giving you.” He almost couldn’t believe it - that you were being so straightforward with him, telling him what you needed to hear from him. 

“Well… first of all.” He cleared his throat, coughing again. “First of all, it goes without saying that who I am and what I am has to stay secret. I’m not worried you’ll say anything, but I just wanted to be clear.” 

“Of course.” You took another bite, brows knit together thoughtfully. “But I’m not sure who would actually believe me even if I did say anything, so…” You shrugged. “It’s kind of an unbelievable story, you know? Heir to the throne of Mandalore working as an IT guy for some tiny little company here in Mistletoe? It kind of sounds like one of those dumb movies we started to watch last night.” 

He didn’t disagree. “Thank you.” Thinking for a few seconds, Din continued. “We should probably keep any sort of PDA to a minimum, too. I know I kriffed it up kissing you in that hallway, and then again last night, but …”

“Those were accidents. You got carried away.” Finishing your meal, you pushed your plate forward. “But that’s fine with me, too. I feel like most of the time we’ll be out somewhere in public, it would be at work, or -”

“No, I want to hang out with you.” He reached across the table, hand flat atop it. “That isn’t … we can do that, but once I do take the throne, if people start digging, they’ll find out I lived here for a while, and it could … it could come back on you if they find anything. And I won’t be here to deflect it.” 

“Oh.” You glanced down, and Din hated to hear the hurt in your voice, but he needed to be honest. “That makes sense.” 

“People knowing we’re friends is one thing, and that’s fine especially because we’re coworkers, but …” This is the shitty part. “In public, that’s all we can be.” 

“People here will think something different. It’s a small town, and I’m sure some people are already talking about the fact that we’re partners. So it’s … that’s probably a good idea.” You met his eyes again. “What else?” 

“If… if things were to get to…” He glanced up. This isn’t hard, you kriffing idiot. “If we ever sleep together for real, we need to use protection. Accidents happen, and that wouldn’t… I would hate myself if -” 

“Got it. Sex is on the table, but we’ve gotta be safe about it.” He could tell that you were upset - not at his requirement, but at the fact that such a serious conversation between the two of you was even necessary in the first place. I’m not happy about it either, if it makes you feel any better. “Can’t have any little Dins running around.” 

“No, that’s another thing. Like I said, on Mandalore, since the throne isn’t passed down to a blood heir every time, I don’t need to have kids. And to be honest with you, I …” He frowned. “There are perks. A lot of them, but I know how I feel about this whole thing, and I don’t want … I don’t want to … If I had a kid, they’d be expected to take my place, especially if it happened soon.”

“So instead you’ll just pick someone else - like Boba did.” He nodded. “So how do you make sure that the person you pick is going to want it?” Good question. 

“Boba asked me because he knows I don’t want it, and he trusts me to act in the best interests of the country. I’ll… I’ll have plenty of time to find someone to replace me that’s the same. Maybe someone that isn’t as hesitant, but …” Din shrugged. “That’s what advisors are for.” You actually smiled at that, finishing your juice. 

“Ok, so what else is there? You’ve covered PDA and safe sex and discretion. But after next week, Din, we won’t have any reason to see each other outside of work, and if we start spending the night at each other’s houses when there’s not a foot of snow outside, it… it’ll be a little hard to hide.” 

“Yeah, it will.” He pushed the remnants of food around on his plate, frowning at it. “But we can figure it out, and -”

“So we’d be friends with benefits.” You stood, grabbing your plate and heading to the stove, continuing to talk as you got a second serving. “I don’t know if you’re familiar with the term, but here, it means people that casually date and do things together - including sleeping together - but that’s all it is. It’s not meant to be long term, but it’s a little more serious than just hooking up.”

You didn’t come back to the table, instead standing next to the stove and eating - plate in one hand, fork in the other. “Yeah, I … I haven’t heard that before, but … that’s…” It’s bullshit is what it is. It sounded almost ridiculous coming out of his mouth, and he knew it - meaning that you knew it, too, and yet you weren’t turning him down. You were agreeing, continuing to eat what he’d made for you and having a conversation that was no different than if you were discussing the weather. “Does this make things weird between us? Making rules for -”

“No. It’s a little formal, but it’s better to get this all out in the open now.” You rinsed your plate off. “I can’t say that I’ve ever set up an arrangement like this before, but it’s not everyday that the future ruler of a foreign country asks for some discretion because he wants to kiss me.” You sat back down across from him, laying both hands on the table. “I’ll be honest and say that this kind of sucks, Din, because like I said, I like you, and we don’t have a chance to see if this could be something more, but it is what it is.

“You can say no.” He reached out again, settling a hand over both of yours. “Call me a terrible person for even suggesting any of this, and I wouldn’t blame you.” I don’t want you to, but… “But I want to be honest with you. I want to see what this is, and see if … see if maybe it would be possible for it to turn into more later, and -”

“No, Din.” Shaking your head sadly, you squeezed your eyes shut. “You’ll be thousands of miles away, and while you’re learning how to lead, you won’t have time for distractions. Let’s just … let’s just do this now, and not … not worry about anything else. Don’t get our hopes up. It’s easier with an expiration date.” It wasn’t - and he thought you knew, it, too, but at the look on your face, he couldn’t do anything but agree - though he did it in his own way. 

“Yeah, that’s a good point. We might not like each other much by the time we’re done with this competition, especially if we don’t win.” It took you a second but you laughed at his words, pulling your hands from beneath his and reaching for your coffee mug. 

“You never know.” Taking a sip, you curled your upper lip and stared at him over the rim of the mug. “Din?” He hummed, frowning. “This is going to hurt when it has to end, you know that, right?” Again with the honesty.

“I do.” Rubbing at his forehead, he nodded. “But I think it would be worse if we just tried to ignore all of this.” 

“Yeah.” Averting your eyes, you stared into your cup. “It would.” Grogu sighed from the floor, Din’s attention dropping to him - and giving himself a chance to think. It was almost cruel that you’d agreed to the arrangement with him, especially with so little time left. 

He wished that he’d started speaking to you sooner after he’d found out that you were single. But I didn’t want to seem like I was taking advantage of an opportunity. He wished that he’d been able to keep his feelings and emotions hidden - something that he’d been so good at after a lifetime of growing up in Mandalore. But months in Mistletoe had changed him even though he’d kept to himself, and part of Din wondered if he’d be able to go back to his old self when it was necessary. But is it necessary? 

Din didn’t know for sure, and as he looked back at you, catching you staring out the window over the sink, he realized that in that moment, it didn’t matter. It doesn’t matter because I’m not there right now. I’m here… with her. 

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Din pushed to his feet, picking up his plate and the juice glass, turning toward the sink. “I’m going to need to clear the driveway before you leave. With both cars parked there, that cuts down on what needs to be shoveled, but it’s still going to take me some time.” 

“I can help if you want.” You stood too, carrying the remainder of the dishes to the sink and setting them down, though you didn’t move from his side. “If you have two shovels, it’ll take even less time.” 

“I don’t.” Turning to face you, he crossed one arm over his chest, gripping his shoulder. “But you could clean the cars off, or play with Grogu.” Your eyes lit up at the second suggestion, Grogu’s dog tags jungling as he sat up at the mention of his name. “He’s pretty good about staying in the yard.” 

“That sounds like fun. I’ll keep these pants on though, that way I can change into my jeans before I go home.” Whatever you want to do. “I wish I had my hat. The hood won’t stay up on my jacket.” 

“I have a couple. You can wear one of them as long as you don’t mind them not being just washed.” You said you didn’t, and so he headed up and into his bedroom a few minutes later, leaving you standing by the sink and rinsing dishes. 

He used the bathroom and changed his pants quickly, pulling on a pair of thick socks and grabbing his spare beanie before heading back out into the hallway and then downstairs, tossing the fabric onto the table. “Dishes are rinsed and loaded, but I didn’t know what you wanted me to do with the pan you used. Some people are weird about -”

“Like I said, the house was furnished. They’re not mine.” Holding up a hand in understanding, you moved to load them into the dishwasher, closing it while he leaned against the table and watched you. “You didn’t have to do that.” 

“I don’t like leaving a mess in the kitchen.” Wiping your hands on a towel, you spun to face him. “Besides, you cooked, so it’s the least I could do.” He liked the way you had an answer almost immediately no matter what he said, and told you as much. “I say what I mean, Din. You’ll have to get used to it.” 

“I definitely could.” You stepped over to the table, picking up the hat - dark gray with a faintly metallic sheen - and pulled it onto your head, tugging it into place. His eyes widened as he watched you, the man’s attention locked on your form as you adjusted the hat. It looks better on her than it does on me. 

“Well?” You held up a hand, cocking your head to one side. “How’s it look?”

“Good. I brought that one from home. I’ve had it for years, but I don’t wear it much here.” He saw the happiness in your eyes as he spoke, your smile growing with each word. “Maybe I should, though.” 

“Want to switch?” Not a chance. “Thanks for letting me borrow it.” Taking a breath, you pointed at the front door. “Should we get out there? The sooner we start, the sooner I can head home and see how bad my own driveway looks. 

“Do you need help clearing it? I can always bring over my -”

“No. The neighbor has a plow on the front of his truck. He usually does it for me before he goes out and does his contracted work, but I won’t know until I get there.” You were both putting on your boots and coats as you talked, you using one hand on the hallway wall for balance. “And if not, I’ll just park in the street and clear enough space to get my car into the garage until he can get to it later.” 

“The offer stands.” He zipped up his coat, pulling his hat into place. “Grogu doesn’t need a leash, Just say “k’olar”, and he’ll listen.” He opened the door leading to the garage and Grogu bolted past the two of you and into it, yipping happily. “I’ll keep an eye on him, too.” 

You thanked him, and as Din pressed the button to open the garage door, you both blinked slowly in the brightening light, the dog sitting on his haunches and waiting. “You should pull your truck forward. That’ll give you a place to start.” It was a good idea, and Din retreated into the house, grabbing his keys. 

When he went back into the garage, he saw that you’d picked up a broom and were clearing his windshield off, careful not to step on and compact the snow in the driveway. He let you continue, stepping forward to keep an eye on Grogu - the dog zooming back and forth across the yard, and was surprised to hear his name a few seconds later. 

“All done.” You had snow on the front of your jacket and pants - but a huge smile on your face. “I’ll go out there with him.” Setting the broom back in place against the wall, you moved around the front of the truck and carefully stepped toward the yard, hopping over undisturbed snow. 

He watched you for a few seconds - smiling as you bent down and called for Grogu while you picked up a handful of snow and tossed it into the air. I’m glad they get along. Looking away, he unlocked the door of his truck and climbed in, starting the engine and letting it idle for a few seconds before pulling into the garage. “Fuck.” He leaned forward, resting his forehead on the steering wheel. “Fuck, this is a dumb plan.” 

It wasn’t dumb because it was a bad plan, it was dumb because he knew how foolish it was to let yourselves have a few months of happiness before separating. But we agreed to it. We both …we both want something instead of nothing. And when he got out of the truck’s cab and tossed the keys onto one of the shelves in the garage, trading them for the shovel and stepping to the edge of the driveway, he returned his gaze to you, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. 

You and Grogu were still playing, the dog running in circles around your legs as you gently kicked snow at him, his jaws snapping as he tried to catch the powder. He could have watched you all morning, but instead tore his gaze away and started to shovel, the man making quick work of the side he’d been parked on before beginning behind your car. 

He checked in on you occasionally, making sure that you and Grogu were alright, but when he was almost done clearing the apron, he felt an impact against his left shoulder - and then, seconds later another. What the… 

When he looked up, you were standing in the center of his yard with a snowball in each hand, Grogu rolling around on the ground next to you. “Did you just…” He trailed off as you reared back and lobbed another snowball at him, the man able to duck out of the way of that one. “You did.”

“I did.” Laughing, you bent down and quickly formed more snowballs. “This is perfect packing snow, Din.” He brushed the snow from his coat and turned his head to look at the remaining section of the driveway - likely only a few more passes of the shovel - and then let it drop to the ground instead, striding toward you and bending to scoop up some snow of his own. 

“You asked for this.” Grinning, he stood and threw a snowball in your direction, Grogu quickly getting to his feet and barking happily. “Remember that.” But you didn’t reply, sending another snowball over - and that was all it took. 

The two of you traded shots for the next ten minutes, snow flying through the air and both of you laughing as you danced through the drifts, Grogu underfoot as he ran back and forth between you. He didn’t concentrate as hard as he would have if he were actually aiming with something that wasn’t snow, but he still hit you quite a few times despite your attempts to duck and avoid the snowballs. 

The hat you were wearing was covered in snow, clumps of it sticking to the cloth parts of your jacket and pants, and Din assumed that his outfit looked the same - but he didn’t care. I’m having fun. I’m … this is … He groaned as you hit him square in the back with a large snowball, Din shouting out your name as he spun back to face you, three leaving his hands in rapid succession. “Oh, now you’re gonna get it.” 

He advanced toward you, Grogu leaping and trying to bite the snow he still held, but before he reached you, Din felt his boot sole catch on a slick spot, his arms flailing as he fell onto the ground. Ow. You took advantage, surging forward and scooping up more snow - but instead of forming it, you moved to stand next to him and then dropped it on his head, Din shutting his eyes at the last possible second as his skin was sprinkled with the cold powder. “Am I?” You laughed again, moving to step back - but he was too quick for you, a hand shooting out to take yours into his, the man tugging once and pulling you down so that you fell across his lap, both of you laughing as his arms went around you, urging you closer to his chest. “Alright, Din, you win.” 

He held you close, watching as you turned your head up to look at him. This wasn’t a bad idea.  This is … the best idea. 

Pulling one gloved hand back, Din used a finger to wipe snow from your cheek, his eyes locked on the movement and the way your lips parted at the touch. “Do I?” A tiny nod was all you managed before Grogu jumped into the mix, placing his paws on Din’s leg and leaning in, licking the side of your face. “Grogu, daab. Get down!” 

“No, it’s fine.” You laughed again, letting go of Din and wrapping your arms around the dog. ‘He just wants to play.” 

“We should go back in. I’m soaked, and you have to be, too.” He hated to get up, but didn’t want either of you to get sick from the cold. “Come on. You can change and I’ll throw our wet clothes into the dryer for a couple minutes before you leave.” 

He didn’t want you to go but knew that he couldn’t keep you all day. “Sounds good.” You pushed to your feet and brushed your pants off, staring down at him. “My hands are kind of cold anyway.” 

Within a few minutes, the two of you were back inside the house, your outer layers removed. He brought your jeans and shirt from the previous night up from the dryer and handed them to you. “Be right back.” You nodded as he headed up the stairs, Din’s hand on the railing the entire way. 

He changed quickly, just putting on a different pair of sweatpants and a dry hoodie before pulling on a new pair of socks. What a great morning. What a great … weekend. He was still smiling as he went back downstairs - but it disappeared when he saw you standing in the kitchen, phone in hand and a horrified look on your face. 

“What’s wrong?” You didn’t respond right away, instead lifting one hand to cover your mouth, head whipping back and forth. Din said your name, reaching you in only a few steps. “What happened?” 

“Look.” It was only one word - and whispered through your fingers, but Din’s eyes moved to the screen of your phone, his heart sinking at what he saw on it. 

It was a picture of the two of you from the night before - his arm around you as he kissed you. Oh, that’s not …  But as he continued to look at the screen, the pit in his stomach grew when he saw that not only was there one picture of the two of you there - the one with your snowmen in the background was posted, too… and both your names were listed beneath it. Ibic cuyir dush. This is really bad.

— 

Ko’lar: come here:

Daab: down

Ibic cuyir dush: this is bad

Tag list reblog coming soon!