#once I’m done editing and can know exactly what I’m working with

[kinda-indecisive]

･˳ . ⋆ .˳⋆ Face Kisses pt. II ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳

Basically how I imagine their reactions to an onslaught of face kisses from you (MC). Fluff.

Part 2: The Rafayel and Sylus Edition!

+:★:+* *+:★:+* +:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+* *+:★+:★:+* *+:★

Rafayel

Enjoying the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest against your ear, you are already comfortably nestled into your spot on his lap, arms lazily hung around his neck as he continues to flip quietly through the gallery catalog over your head.

A catalog Thomas had sent Rafayel to review a week ago, which you feel kinda guilty about.

Usually, Thomas can trust you to keep Raf in check, pushing him to slough through the boring stuff so that the two of you can spend the rest of your time together doing other, more exciting things. This past week, however, you had been having a really frustrating time dealing with a particularly nasty group of Wanderers that kept reappearing at the most inopportune times and locations. And, when you showed up in his studio, he noticed something was off instantly.

He’d taken it on as his duty to pull you out of your slump of frustration, dragging you from marketplace to marketplace, shop to shop, beach to beach, hoping to get your mind off of those “creativity sucking Wanderers with bad attitudes”. And that was just on the first day. All week, he’s been there the second you wake up, chattering excitedly about where you two were off to next. And, in all honesty, having him around has kinda helped.

And although you didn’t say it out loud, he sensed this, too. Hence the only reason he has finally given you a second to breathe, curled up in his lap on the sofa, the beach breeze gently blowing at the white curtains, and the only other movement in the room being his occasional page turning.

When he hums softly in disdain at something, you are snapped out of your comfy daze.

You really do appreciate how much effort he puts in to make you feel better at times like these. And even though he insists on brushing it off as no big deal (“I already needed to make a trip to this shop, cutie, you just saved me from having to go alone” ), you know that his actions have always spoken much louder, and much more clearly, than his words.

Your heart nearly bursts at how true the thought is and you shift in his lap to look down at him.

He groans loudly, setting the catalog aside, his eyebrows furrowed as he pouts up at you, “Why are you moving around so much? I was perfectly comfortable staying how we were before and I’ll never get any work done if you keep squirming…”

He continues to pout, even when you take his face between your palms. Such a nice face belonging to someone with such a good heart. An absolutely gorgeous face, even if he does keep that indignant little scowl and crease between his brows.

You kiss this space between his brows first, which makes his eyebrows raise in surprise. But before he even has a chance to collect himself from this initial surprise, you continue planting small kisses to cover the rest of his face, making sure to leave no space neglected.

“Alright, alright,” he says once you’ve already finished, clearing his throat and turning his face away, “You’re treating me like some kind of puppy. I’m not your pet, y’know.”

He crosses his arms over his chest and pretends to be annoyed, his face still turned away. His refusal to look you in the eye, however, only gives you a better view of his bright red ears and cheeks, betraying exactly how he feels about the attention he just received.

“Oh? Well, I guess if you didn’t like that, I shouldn’t do it ever again. I admittedly still don’t know much about what kind of behavior is accepted in Lemuria. And I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable or anything,” you say, pretending to get up from his lap.

He catches your wrist and gently pulls you back down, giving you that signature head tilt and grin when he reassures you.

“Aw, well, I get it. You are still pretty new to this Lemurian thing. Besides, it wasn’t too horrible,” he says, his hair falling in front of his eyes. He swipes it away nonchalantly, continuing, “I could maybe suffer through such treatment once or twice a month. Or a week. Or even once a day if you really felt the strong desire to. You humans and your customs are weird, but I can be a good sport about some of them.”

“No, no, there’s no need,” you continue to tease, pretending to stand once again, “I really should be more mindful when it comes to these kinds of things.”

“No, I insist. As a matter of fact…” he says, catching your wrist again and tugging you back down to sit in his lap, simultaneously managing to wrap his arms around you to prevent you from getting up again, “...dontcha think it’s my turn to give this newfound custom a try?”

+:★:+* *+:★:+* +:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+* *+:★+:★:+* *+:★

Sylus

When you arrive at the N109 Zone, it’s almost noon. Therefore you aren’t surprised that Sylus is still in his room, is still asleep, and is not quite ready to compromise that sleep for anyone or anything.

You know that technically doesn’t include you, but you don’t want to ruin his rest, so you leave him be for now. Instead, you decide to check out some more rooms in this grand house.

Your visits to the N109 zone have been much more frequent, despite this past week apart. But before this last week, you had come and gone with a frequency that Sylus had finally seemed pleased with.

In that time, you had familiarized yourself with many of the rooms of this mansion already. That being said, you could almost swear that Sylus brought in something new every single day, so there’s always something new to discover on your visits.

And now you find yourself faltering before a suit of armor you hadn’t noticed before. It must have been pure white at one time, but now has gone dark from wear, age, and transportation. The armor wasn’t made for someone of Sylus’s size, and you wonder what about it made him want to add it to his collection. You try to resonate with it to get something off of it, but nothing really happens.

Soon, however, you grow tired of the silent house and the suit of armor. You figure that a small nap never hurt anyone. Besides, it feels like you haven’t seen Sylus in ages, even though it’s only been a week. A long, tedious week of Wanderers and stuck up clients who you sometimes thought about leaving to fend off the Wanderers themselves.

Slipping into his bedroom, his bedside lamp is on. The dim light casts strange shadows around the room, but softly illuminates the man on the bed.

Walking around the bed, you crawl onto the mattress and begin to make yourself comfy, trying to do it slowly so you don’t disturb he who breathes deeply beside you. Once settled, you roll over to face him.

His normally strong features look so soft in this lighting, and his brow is furrowed slightly in his sleep, his expression one of a man concerned. Your heart aches a little as you realize just how much you’ve missed him this week despite trying to convince yourself you were better off without his incessant teasing. Reaching out, you mean to brush your fingertips over his cheekbones, but you suddenly hesitate before touching him. He sleeps so lightly sometimes and you don’t want to be the reason he can’t fall back to sleep.

But it’s already too late.

That frown of concern shifts into confusion as his eyes open—the color as bright and striking as ever—then relief when he sees you, sleepily taking your hand in his own and intertwining your fingers. Rolling onto his side, he smiles faintly at the sight of you tucked in beside him.

“I’m not dreaming, am I, sweetie?” he murmurs, his already deep voice even deeper with sleep, “It’s been 8 days and a few hours since I saw you last.”

“You keep count?” you tease as he brings your wrist to his lips.

“Maybe I do,” he says with a huff and a shrug, his still-heavy eyelids closing again. You know he isn’t asleep, however, by the sound of his annoyed grunt when you try to slip your hand out of his grasp, “Leaving already?”

“No, I just want to get more comfortable.”

His eyes still closed, he allows you to take your hand back. You start to settle in beside him, but thinking about how lovely and worried he’d looked when you first came in, you suddenly have an idea to hopefully help soothe whatever dreams he’d been having.

His brow furrows again when you take his face in-between your hands, but a smug little smile is quick to replace it as you place feather-light little kisses against every inch of his face.

He sinks deeper into the mattress as you do, his entire body relaxing as you surge with gratitude for the fact that he shares this vulnerable side with you and only you. By the time you finish, his smug smile has faded softly as he dozes off and on again.

“Hmm? Is that all?” he hums. Rolling your eyes, you chuckle, sliding back into the blankets, grabbing his arm and drawing it around you as well. Nuzzling his nose against the back of your neck, he murmurs with a voice as smooth as velvet, “Thank you, sweetie. It’s been a hell of a week and I needed that.”

“Don’t be silly,” you murmur, “Now go back to sleep, Sylus.”

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

Part 1: Xavier and Zayne Edition

A Short Little Tag List! 💕 (I hope you enjoy :))

@lemurianmaster @myeagleexpert

[stiles-o-dylan24]

If you ever decide to make iaby into an actual book, I will totally buy it like no matter what! 💛

I want to smother you with cuddles🥺

Sooooo I’m actually in the process of going through the chapters with a proper editing process for the entire series fixing grammar, flow of sentences/scenes, and adding in more scenes I wish I had to begin with and once I’m done I will absolutely be uploading it to be printed into a book with Lulu. No idea how that process will be but I will be updating on here when I’m ready for it to be printed and see about how to get copies to people who want them.

Also means I will need to figure out a cover… which I’m totally at a loss with what to do for that

[greetings-inferiors]

Yes, hi, what's happening to reddit? I usually check some fandom news there but everything is private/blocked now? I have an account and not even that allows me to enter?

Reddit is changing their policy so they every thousand api requests they charge money. This means that third party apps, moderation tools, and other various things just won’t work anymore, since these things rack up thousands of requests very quickly, they’d just be unsustainable to run.

This cost would be average out to a dollar per month per person using third party applications, like an alternative app, text to speech, moderation tools, etc. Reddit has millions and million of users, most of which would be affected.

For example, Apollo for Reddit, a popular third party alternative to the Reddit app (which I used myself, seriously the Reddit app is abysmal) would cost $20MILLION DOLLARS A YEAR TO RUN. Given the app is developed by one guy, that legitimately puts him out of business.

Moderation would get even worse than it already is, as moderation tools use the api to effectively moderate, but now it’s at a cost.

The reason why this change is happening, is because the API can be used to collect data for AI, and, to quote the CEO, “the Reddit corpus of data is really valuable” and he doesn't want to “need to give all of that value to some of the largest companies in the world for free.”

So, once again, AI and capitalism is ruining things for everyone else.

This is a change that is created solely to make money without thinking for a second about the millions of people it would effect. This lead to 7000 of the most popular subreddits blacking out for 48 hours in protest, and I’m pretty sure it crashed the whole site. The voice of the people has definitely been heard, now it’s just time to see if it’s done anything.

Edit: I got something wrong! Thanks to all who corrected me! No thanks to the anon who was an asshole about it lmao

It’s not that Reddit is charging that’s the problem, it’s that it’s charging way too much, is way too short of a deadline to change it, and spez is just an asshole lying about the Apollo dev. Still a shit situation! Just not exactly for the reasons I said. Look into the reblogs for people who know more!!

[sizzleissues]

Its May.

Okay so this is in the same AU I had last year its just changed and evolved while also being the exact same. Except now I have 15,000 words of it written, like 7,000 words of planning and lore and hours upon hours of research that I will be pointedly ignoring. Will be posting more stuff this month about the AU and my hopes and dreams for it

Also slight art improvement check? I’ll put their original mermaid designs below the cut.

It’s Marinette as a mermaid and … its not Adrien or Chat Noir but a third worse thing (Catwalker but in the purest manifestation of it being a curse and not who he wants to be) I will be making designs for mer!Ladybug, and mer!Adrien as its own thing later on.

Okay if you want to indulge me look below the cut

Old mermaid designs first. I am going to be talking about my design thoughts, thoughts and ramblings about this AU and what I’ve been up to. You have been warned

As you can see, some things have changed but neither design I hated, I just wanted to go further with it.

My brain is quite specific about mermaids and how I want them to generally look. I wanted to distinguish biological merfolk from transformed humans by having them being anatomically different. So Adrien has a vertical tail instead which is also way faster underwater. His transformation is quite distressing for him and very chaotic. Of course when he accepts it he’s not so raggedy.

Marinette similarly avoids her life as a mermaid by becoming human and I wanted her mermaid design to hint toward her fascination with humans. She wears a top she fashioned from human fabric she found in a sunken merchant vessel. In general all other merfolk either forgo clothes or wear things fashioned from materials available to them. There’s deep fear of humans and human things so even though human clothes are available to them (off dead bodies but…. Whatever) they choose to difference themselves as much as possible. The same taboos don’t exist for them and their bodies are already adapted from the temperature of their environment. Adrien has stray bits of netting and seaweed on him because he’s not exactly the best at controlling his speed and often crash’s through fishing nets and patches of seaweed resulting in stuff being caught on him.

A lot of their designs are still being worked but I’ve definitely pushed them the right direction!

On to the AU. You might have seem me cryptically talk about something I’m writing the past few weeks. This is because it’s been in my brain since last May and been on and off writing it since then. I decided I’d talk about it once May came back around but and then when I finished writing it, start posting sneak peaks and more spoilery art until it was fully edited and I felt confident in it to post with an aim for it to finish posting once May rolled around again. Oh god.

It’s set in the late 1700s in a fictional version of France that’s actually fragmented over a bunch of islands. I have done more fashion research than I ever thought I’d do and in the end we will still be taking creative license but know I do know what they actually wore! I ALSO did a butt tonne of research about sailing ships and turns out they are super complicated and now I know too much and yet too little still about them. It should be super fun and action packed if I can manage. Have some really good scenes already in my head I know you’ll love. We’re already three ships battle deep and I’ve only written four chapters. (It chills out for a bit after that)

This is entirely self-indulgent by the way. I’m writing this for me, you guys are just a bonus. I literally don’t care as long as it satiates my rabid need for the fic that only lives in my brain at the moment. Saying that, I do want to put my best foot forward.

The next thing I will be posting for this is their human forms and more blabblerings about that. For I am insane and all.

[achilles-rage]

Good Luck Charm: Chapter 5

college football player!buck x plus size!reader

summary: the next day you meet evan at the library, where he makes you explain your actions yesterday. then, the next day, an innocent conversation almost turns into one you're both waiting for.

word count: 2.5k

previous chapter

series masterlist

A/N: you guys!!! the feedback on this fic has been so overwhelming, thank you so much!!! i was gonna post a request today but since this one was a little better edited and i haven't had a lot of time today, i figured i'd post this today instead and post the request tomorrow! enjoy<333

warnings: inexperienced!reader, slight enemies to lovers??? a touch of slowburn???, no use of y/n, fem!reader, race inclusive!reader

The next morning, you drag yourself out of bed. You’re really not looking forward to seeing Evan today, and it feels a little weird. You’re usually excited to see him, but you can’t push away the dread in your belly as you think about what to say to him if he asks why you were so short with him yesterday. While you do feel bad about how you treated him, your feelings about him stay the same: you don’t believe he actually likes you. You just know now that you can’t hold that against him. You can’t force him to like you back, after all.

You make your way to the fifth floor of the library, seeing that he’s already sitting at the table you both have deemed yours. You sit down without a word and start pulling your supplies out of your bag, trying to ignore the way he’s studying your movements.

As soon as you get situated, you start to open your laptop, but his hand immediately comes out to close it. He leans forward on the table in your direction, making sure part of his arm is on your laptop as he rests his chin on his fist, making sure you can’t open it and ignore his presence any further.

“Nuh uh. No assignment today. You’re gonna talk to me about what’s going on in your pretty little head.” he states, keeping his eyes soft as he looks up at you, trying not to spook you. He notices the way you’re holding your breath, closing your eyes for a moment as you gather your thoughts.

“There’s nothing to talk about.” you say softly once you open your eyes, still refusing to look him in the eye. You’re afraid you’ll tell him everything if you look in those big blue eyes. He scoffs at your words, reaching a hand out to grab your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his.

“Princess, don’t do this. Yell at me if you want. Just don’t ignore me.” he begs you, keeping your chin in his grip as he moves his face just inches away from yours. You have so many thoughts whirring around in your head, but all you can get out with him so close is: “We shouldn’t be friends.”

“Why the hell not?” he asks defensively, his tone hardening at your words. He tightens his grip on your chin as you try to look away, not enough to hurt, but enough for you to snap your eyes back to his. 

“We have nothing in common. You play football, and you go to all the frat parties, and you get like, every single girl you want, probably. I don’t do any of that. I go to class, and when I’m not doing class work, I hang out with my roommate, or go to work.” you explain. You’re not exactly saying you don’t want to be friends, just that you don’t understand it, and he picks up on this.

“Why does that matter?” He’s desperate to understand where you’re coming from. He really sees nothing wrong with what you’re saying. Your differences are what attracted him to you in the first place, and how pretty you were, but that’s not the point.

“It just makes no sense!” you exclaim, looking around the library with wide eyes once you realize how loud it came out. “I don’t know why I thought we could be friends, or something. We should just finish this assignment, and be done with it.” you finish, voice much softer as you lean away from his touch, trying to open your laptop again.

“I don’t want that.” he says matter of factly, putting a hand over your laptop again, keeping it closed. You huff, looking back up at him, frowning slightly as you chew on the inside of your cheek.

“I didn’t ask what you wanted.” you say with as much conviction as you can. You can feel the tears slowly forming in your eyes, and you try to will them away as you hold eye contact. You’re not even sure why you’re crying, but you can feel the way his eyes are boring into you, and it feels more intimate than any of the other times he’s looked at you.

“Why don’t I get a say in this? You think that just because we don’t have anything in common, there’s no reason for us to hang out? Well, I don’t agree. I like hanging out with you. I wanna keep hanging out with you, even when we’re done with this stupid assignment. I don’t care about any of the stuff you just said, alright? Now, please don’t shut me out.” he says angrily, jaw clenched.

He can’t believe the words coming out of your mouth. He doesn’t understand where it’s coming from; how does this have anything to do with his conversation with Sabrina? He thought he was finally wearing you down, and it makes his chest contract in an odd way as he takes in your tense body language. 

“I just don’t understand.” you trail off, looking down as you see the anger creeping onto his face. You aren’t trying to upset him, you just aren’t sure what else to say without explaining your feelings for him.

“I don’t care. You don’t have to understand. You just have to know that you’re not getting rid of me that easily. I like seeing your pretty face everyday.” he whispers the last part, nudging your elbow softly on the table, giving you a soft smile. 

“Okay.” you mumble after a moment, feeling a smile fighting its way onto your face. You can’t help it. Everytime he calls you pretty, your heart races and you can’t help but fidget with your hands.

“Is that a smile?” he teases, ducking his head, trying to get a better look at your face, still angled down at the table. You shake your head, but a soft laugh escapes your throat, betraying you. He smirks at this, tongue trailing the inside of his cheek as his eyes glance to your lips for a moment before going back to your eyes.

“There she is. You’re gorgeous, you know that?” he tells you softly, trying to ease you back out of your shell. He’s picked up on the way you get all shy when he compliments you, and he figures this is the fastest way for you to get back to how you two were before. Your eyes dart up to his, shaking your head with a small smile.

“Let’s get to work.” you whisper, pushing his hand off your laptop and opening it. He straightens his back as he stops leaning on the table, feeling giddy as he sees you slowly letting him back in.

“Yes ma’am.” he mumbles back, opening his own laptop.

The next day, you’re standing in the hall with a girl you’ve had a few classes with, a small container open between the two of you as you offer her a cookie. You have to get rid of them somehow; you baked way more than you and your roommate could eat. After a few minutes, you both say goodbye and she goes into her class.

As soon as she walks away Evan walks up to you, quickly snatching a cookie from the container before you can put the lid back on. You smile once you realize it’s him, lowering the lid of the container as you keep the cookies between the both of  you.

He winks at you as he takes a bite, then lets out a loud moan, tilting his head back and closing his eyes as the taste hits his tongue. A high pitched laugh escapes your throat at the noise, and you reach out and swat him with the container lid gently, looking around at the other people in the hall who are now staring at both of you.

“Did you make these?” he asks once he swallows, opening his eyes and looking back down at you. You nod, laughing softly. “God. How do you not have a boyfriend?”

“Just lucky, I guess.” you tease softly, face growing hot. He shoves the rest of the cookie in his mouth, humming softly as he chews. You laugh again at his actions, shaking your head at his puffed out cheeks full of food. As he chews, his mind races at your words. Now he’s picturing you as a girlfriend. His girlfriend. How you’d be around him. How he’d be able to touch you whenever he wanted. It’s urging him to make a move on you sooner rather than later.

After he finishes the cookie, he looks down at you, eyes softening slightly as he speaks with a more serious tone. It’s now or never, he thinks.

“Seriously, though. Why?” You shrug, pursing your lips, nervously. You think you know why, but you really don’t want to explain to this attractive man exactly why you think so.

“I don’t know. Guys don’t really approach me much.” you tell him softly, eyes darting around the hallway as you notice that most people have filed into different classrooms.

“And have you thought that you’d have more success finding a guy who likes you if you didn’t bite the head off of every guy that approaches you, princess?” he teases, referencing the first time you met. You laugh softly, shaking your head. “My attitude has nothing to do with it.” you tell him, voice getting softer as you keep talking. The way he’s staring so intently at you has your stomach doing flips, and you can feel your mouth go dry as he speaks.

“Oh, really? You’re stubborn and feisty towards anyone giving you an ounce of attention, and yet you can’t figure out why no guys stick around long enough to appreciate you?” You purse your lips at his words, taking in the smirk stuck on his face as he teases you.

“I’m not like that around other people.” you admit sheepishly, shrugging your shoulders. His eyes widen slightly at this. He’s so used to you arguing with him that he almost can’t believe that you’re not like this with everyone. “Then why were you so defensive towards me? Why were you in attack mode when I first started talking to you?” he asks after a moment, his smirk widening as your eyes dart around nervously.

“You drive me crazy.” you whisper, as if it was that simple, eyes focused on your hands as you put the lid back on your container. It’s true, he does. He just doesn’t need to know it’s because he’s so attractive it makes your head spin.

“Is that so?” he matches your tone, taking another step closer to you. He’s pretty sure he knows why now; with your nervous expression and your fidgeting. He just wants you to say it. 

“Yes.” you whisper, swallowing as you raise your chin to look up at him

“And why is that, Princess? Why do I drive you crazy?” he continues, waiting for you to admit it.

“I don’t know.” you lie, letting out a shaky breath. You’re sure now that he knows everything. You’re really not doing a good job at hiding anything from him, but you’re so nervous and out of your element that you’re not sure what to do.

“No, I think you do. You’re just too embarrassed to admit it. Go ahead, tell me why I have you so riled up.” You can barely focus on his words as you look up at his face; you’re so overwhelmed by how close he is. You can’t help your eyes glancing down at his lips for a split second before moving back up to his eyes, mind blank as you try to slow your racing heart.

He notices your eyes trailing down to his lips quickly and his smirk grows wider. His eyes glace down to your lips as he takes a deep inhale, deciding that now is his chance. 

Just as he’s about to lower his lips to yours, someone drops their phone, a loud sound echoing through the hallway you’re in. It causes you both to snap out of the world where only you two exist. You jump slightly, then look away, blinking slowly as he clears his throat. 

Fuck, he thinks, the moment is now completely ruined. He barely has time to react before you look back up at him, your brain catching up to the events that just occurred.

“Don’t you have class right now?” you ask him softly. You can’t believe you thought he was going to kiss you. He’s probably flirty with every girl. Maybe he just doesn’t know how to turn off the charm? Your face grows hot as you think about it, waiting for him to respond.

“Uh, yeah, yeah. I guess I’ll, uh, go,” His shoulders deflate slightly as he responds to you. Maybe he had read you wrong, maybe you didn’t want to kiss him. He doesn’t want to push you any further, so he decides it’s better for him to just go. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

You nod, smiling softly, but he can see the nervousness written on your face. He gives you a small smile back and steps away, trying to give you your space. He feels like a complete douchebag, he feels like he almost just forced himself onto you. He’s picked up on your shy demeanor over the last few weeks, and he had assumed it was because of him, but now he thinks that maybe you’re just that shy around everyone else.

He says goodbye before walking away, and you let out a shaky breath once he does, still reeling from how close he was to you.

“Morning, princess.” he says as he sits down at the table the next morning, chuckling as he notices that you’re already almost done your coffee. He knows that you get coffee in the morning on campus before coming here, and he figures today has been a rough morning, as you’ve basically chugged the whole thing already. You greet him softly, taking your eyes off your laptop and meeting his gaze. 

“I accidentally submitted my pre-edited assignment to my professor. He emailed me this morning and asked why my essay was titled ‘Why Macbeth is a Whiny Little Bitch.’” you say, your face hot with embarrassment. Evan’s eyes widen, and he can’t help the loud laugh that escapes his throat, which makes the smile you were fighting erupt on your face.

“How the hell did you do that?” he asks through his laughter, and you shake your head, pursing your lips at his reaction.

“The un-edited one and the edited one were right beside each other, I clicked the wrong one.” you say, finally letting out a small laugh at your misfortune. You’re very lucky your professor is one of the most laid back ones you’ve had, and your assignments are usually very well done.

He continues laughing, and asks why you named it that, which sends you into a small rant about the Shakespeare play. 

As you explain, it’s almost as if your almost-kiss is forgotten about, or at least, the awkward events that happened after it are. You’re talking to him without feeling weird at all, and he has that stupid smirk on his face as he flirts with you again. It feels natural, and neither of you think too much about what almost happened, lost in how good it feels to be around each other.

next chapter

notes: likes/comments/reblogs would be much appreciated if you liked this<33

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[ghostofwriting]

Kildare Split Part Two: Place In Me

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Chapter 2: Place In Me

Note: Me: I don't know when I'll post chapter 2 maybe on the weekend but who knows. Also me: posts 3 hours after saying that. Once again I wanted to thank everyone for reading and interacting! I appreciate all of you so much. Not edited so be warned. I confused everyone with part 21 and this doesn't provide any answers! Just more context for other parts of the smau. Enjoy!

Warnings: none, bad writing, Rafe being mean, y/n being mean

Word Count: 3,371

Synopsis: Everyone has noticed that there's been a shift in how Kildare Split acts around each other. Rafe and Y/N used to be so close, they were always pictured together, and always shared stories of each other and for the last few years, there has been nothing from them. A behind-the-scenes look at what went down between everyone's favourite band.

She thought that she made herself clear and that they understood where she was coming from after her speech in the green room.

She’s not expecting Barry to be sitting on the couch of the tour bus she had chosen to sleep in, her hair sticking to her sweaty forehead from her run, slightly out of breath. 

When she opens the door and sees him sitting there, she jumps.

“Fuck, Barry what the hell?” Barry had a very specific regime for show days. He should’ve been napping on the other bus.

“We can’t go on hiatus. You’re being selfish.” She feels her ears start burning, she scoffs at him. 

“Selfish? You better be kidding me. The audacity of you to come in here and accuse me of being selfish?”

“Y-” She doesn’t let him continue.

“I have put up with this bullshit for two years, Barry! Just because I’m tired and need a break doesn’t make me selfish.”

“If you would just talk to him.”

“No. Fuck you. No.”

“If you talk to him, and he explains himself, you’ll understand and this can all go back to normal.”

“No. I will not fix this. I don’t need to fix this.”

“What happened to be there for each other?”

“Barry. You and Topper were supposed to be there for me!” She snaps, her voice rising.

“You were the only people who knew exactly what I was going through not only with Rafe but with the fame and the drugs and the people wanting things from me. You were going through it too, I know you were. But you abandoned me the second Rafe decided to what? Get in a relationship? You threw me away, I was so alone!” 

Tears are threatening to spill over now. She hates how she can’t get angry without crying. 

“I went through everything by myself and the people I thought were my best friends abandoned me. I get it okay. You chose your boy. But I thought I meant something to you. I thought I was your friend. He broke my heart and my spirit.” She stops to catch her breath, “I was a shell of a person and you still didn’t even ask me if I was okay. In two years you haven't checked in.”

“y/n..”

“He told me he didn’t want to live without me and the next day I found out he was seeing Sofia. And suddenly I wasn’t his friend or his bandmate or even a person. I was just someone he fucked. And I don’t care why he said that. I don’t care if he meant it or not or if he was lost and scared. He still said it. I’m done. I’m done with him, I’m done with this Los Angeles, I’m done. I don’t owe him anything. I don’t need to talk to him.” She finishes her chest heaving. Barry is staring at her, eyes wide.

“What does that mean?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll stay in the band. But it’s work. That’s all. We aren’t friends.” 

Barry’s silent. Still sitting on the bus couch. 

“Get out. Please.” 

+++

The early days of getting over Rafe were hard. She wanted to go back to who she was before him. The version of herself before she got involved with him. Journaling and writing song lyrics and poems could only do so much. Everyone told her that she needed someone else. She understood that but she didn’t feel like it. She wasn’t ready to get her heartbroken all over again. 

Not when she constantly got her heart broken on tour, not only when she saw Rafe making out with Sofia backstage but when Barry walked right by her without acknowledging her existence, or when Topper pretended not to hear her. Her heart cracked every time for the little girl who trusted these boys with her entire being and let them in only for them to stomp all over her. 

She spent endless nights on tour, alone in her hotel room crying at the top of her lungs and on the tour bus muffling the sound of her sobs with her pillow. So when people suggested she needed to meet someone to get over him, well, it didn’t sound like a good idea to just let someone else in to break her even more when they eventually left. 

It got better little by little, the heartache over her friends hating her. The heartbreak over Rafe choosing someone who wasn’t her, someone who was worth it. The loneliness never did. It was crippling how alone she felt. There were times when she wanted to go back to the drugs, drinking, and partying. She would feel so much better if she just couldn’t feel anymore. She didn’t go back on the promise that she made to herself. She would never be that afraid high out of her mind 17-year-old girl again. 

She isn’t sure if she gets over Rafe or if she learned to live with the pain. Sometimes she thinks she’s so angry at him and that’s the reason she doesn’t want him. She misses him all the time, she thinks she’ll miss him forever. At least who they were before they had sex and fucked it all up. 

She lets everyone know that when the time comes she’ll make them all aware. Cleo tells her that she better be the first one who finds out she’s seeing someone. She tells her that she wouldn’t have it any other way.

The day she met him was one of the most ordinary days she had lived in her entire life. She had woken up in her Los Angeles apartment, made herself breakfast, gone for a swim and gotten ready for the day. She didn’t have anything planned for the day, maybe tidy up a little, call Sarah, and run some errands. The craving to make brownies hits her out of nowhere, she doesn’t have any of the ingredients at her house though, the life of a touring artist. 

She’s leaving the grocery store with her reusable bags filled to the brim with all her cravings. She’s digging in her tiny pink purse that can’t hold anything for her keys when she drops two of her bags. 

She doesn’t want to get angry when she sees everything fall, she stares at it for a second, takes a deep breath and moves to pick it up. Once she gets everything together and packed up in her car, she decides that she needs a little treat for putting up with her groceries falling.

Her favorite pastry spot in LA is right by a hotel where all the celebrities who don’t live in the city full time. It’s usually a curse because everyone is hanging out or camping outside the hotel for a small glimpse of someone famous.

She thanks Caroline, the bakery owner and steps out of the store without looking at where she’s going. She feels herself collide into something strong and hard. Someone. Her pastries shake in the box. Of course, this would happen too. Why can’t she just keep herself from dropping her food today?

“I am so sorry.” She says to the man standing in front of her. He’s pretty, she thinks. Dark brown hair, almost black, brown eyes that look very familiar, and strong, and his arms are bulging where his black shirt sleeve ends. He’s hot. 

“Don’t worry, you’re fine.” She hears his friend behind say something in a different language and the man in front of her shakes his head and smiles at her. 

“Are they making fun of me for being a klutz?” He laughs. 

“No, they think it’s funny that I would run into my celebrity crush. Literally.” Any other time, if someone confessed that she was their celebrity crush, she would run so far so fast. Something keeps her there, smiling like an idiot, at a loss for words. She says the first thing that pops into her head.

“Have we met? You look familiar.” She feels like she’s seen him somewhere but she can’t place him. 

“Mira que te ha visto a través de la ventana.” one of his friends says, he shushes him not even turning to look. 

“I’m an actor?” He says it like a question, his cheeks flush, and he’s embarrassed. It’s endearing. 

“Yeah? Have I seen anything you’ve been in?” 

“I doubt it.” 

“So as your celebrity crush, it seems that I have a responsibility to watch whatever you’ve been in, don't you think?”

“No way.” He smiles at his friends doing a quiet chant of something behind him.

“No? Not even if you join me and walk me through it?” She knows she’s giving him eyes now, looking at him through her eyelashes, fluttering her eyelids a little too much. Her resolve is gone, she doesn’t know where her confidence is coming from and she’s going to use it until it’s gone. 

“We could arrange that,” he pauses, “Julio.” He extends his hand out for her to shake. 

“Y/N.” and maybe when she takes his hand she feels a shock run up her arm. 

Maybe she’s being dramatic and jumping the gun but what if everything she’s been through led her to this moment? Right here with him. 

+++

When Rafe finds out Y/N is seeing someone he tries not to lose it. He knows he has no right. His palms start sweating. He feels his breath shorten, he’s honestly a mess though he doesn’t show it. 

At least not until Topper pushes him on the subject when they’re left alone. 

“She’s seeing someone.” The room is eerily quiet, they’re in the studio recording their second album. Y/N had gone off to probably call her boyfriend and Barry was off doing who knows who.

“Yeah.” He’s short with his answer, scrolling on his phone to distract himself from the ever-intrusive thoughts of her her her. 

“You good?” No. No, of course he’s not good.

“I have Sofia.” Topper clears his throat and continues his torture on him. 

“Doesn’t answer my question.” 

“Yeah.” He looks over at Topper, his eyebrows lifting in acknowledgement.

They stay quiet for a few more minutes, the questions and thoughts and everything eating at him.

“Who’s the guy?” The question forces its way out of his mouth. He doesn’t want to know anything about the man that holds her heart.

“Some actor,” Topper responds nonchalantly, looking at him like he’s going to blow up if he moves anymore.

“Cool.” He wants to claw his heart out. What the fuck is happening to him right now.

“Rafe.” Topper isn’t convinced that it’s cool at all. Because Rafe can lie to everyone in his life but not Topper.

“No yeah, that’s cool. It’s great, yeah, good for her.” He knows he still doesn’t sound convincing.

“What are you going to do about it?”

“Let her be happy.” He’s going to be mature about this. He asked Sofia to marry him last year for god sake. If he gets to be happy, she does too. Is he happy?

“Rafe.” Fucking Topper and his questions.

“I’ve fucked her life up enough. She deserves this. Deserves someone.” It spills out of him again, his eyes meeting with Topper’s, begging him to stop. 

“Do you ever miss her?” Topper’s not showing him any mercy today, wanting to know everything he’s kept inside for the past two years.

“More than anything.”

“You fucked up” understatement of his life. He ruined her and in turn, ruined himself. He was stupid and selfish and he deserved the worst.

“Yeah.”

+++

“You have to apologize to her.” Rafe’s once again fiddling with his guitar. The arena is empty except for the techs playing with lightingThe stage had been set up the night before. Y/N was with Sarah exploring the city before she had to be back for soundcheck. Barry was taking a nap and Topper was being a pain in his ass. He tweeted some bullshit at him and Rafe had called him back to talk.

“I don’t have to do anything, she’s leaving.”

“Yeah because of you. Because of what you did to her.”

“I seem to remember that you were included in isolating her.”

“That only happened because she was so hurt she pushed everyone away and I thought I would make it worse by forcing her to talk. Anyway, that’s between y/n and I. You need to take responsibility, Rafe.”

“For what? It wasn’t my fault I didn’t love her.”

“Oh fuck off Rafe. You loved her. You were just scared.”

“Of course I was scared! It could’ve ruined everything. The band, our careers.”

“You shouldn’t have ever gotten involved.”

“I couldn’t help it!” He closes his eyes, doing the breathing exercises they taught him in rehab, in therapy. 

“Please, just talk to her.” 

“She doesn’t want to hear it.”

“You have to try!’

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“You won’t understand.”

“Try me.”

“Because I’m engaged. I’m with Sofia and I’m happy and if,” he breathes “if y/n were to even give me the slightest greenlight I would burn my whole relationship to the ground. Her whole relationship.” He says the last part under his breath, hoping Topper doesn’t hear it.

“What the fuck, Rafe?”

“I know.”

“Why now?”

“I did and said some shit back then to not fuck up the band. It was wrong, stupid and childish. It’s not a question of ‘why now,’ I never stopped.”

“You still love her.” Rafe doesn’t confirm or deny it. Topper shakes his head. 

“You need to apologize.” Topper leaves Rafe to strum his guitar in thought. 

+++

Everything changes when he comes into her life. It’s like she was living in this deep black hole of anger, sadness, and endless turmoil. He’s her calm. He grounds her and she feels like she can finally breathe. She hasn’t felt wanted in such a long time and even though they are long distance most of the time between his film schedule and her tours, she has never felt alone since meeting him. 

She has a video from him every time she wakes up in the morning. Sometimes it’s just him telling her something that happened to him during the day, or a funny story, and sometimes he sings. She wishes she could drop an album just to feature him on it. She wants the entire world to know that he’s hers and she’s his and she is so incredibly in love. 

It’s scary going from such a low to such a high. The extreme contrast is intimidating at times but she wouldn’t have it any other way. She learned what she wanted in a relationship from an extremely difficult situation and somehow it was all worth it as long as she got to have him in her life. 

They’re together for a year before it gets out. They chose to be private about their relationship, it’s easy when he’s halfway across the world most of the time. That doesn’t stop her from spending every single moment that she isn’t on tour or in the studio next to him in Spain, Italy, France. She loves him. She would do anything for him. She knew that he was the one three weeks into their relationship and when she told him and he told her he felt the same, it confirmed it.

It’s her fault it gets out, he said it was about time and he wasn’t mad about it at all. 

Sometimes she still finds that deep-seated anger she holds for Rafe bubbling over. It’s all-consuming and she can’t stop the venom that leaves her body.

When Rafe’s engagement gets out, she and Julio step out on a date night. Cleo calls the paparazzi for her. It’s a great plan until everyone is freaking out because they’re convinced she and Rafe were dating this entire time.

She loves her fans but sometimes the theories and threads get a little too much. Mostly because they’re correct most of the time. 

At first, she was scared of Julio seeing all those things and seeing how everyone wanted her and Rafe to get married. She was scared he was going to run away. It never seemed to faze him. He never not once doubted her. He understands how people get and believes her when she tells him she chooses him for the rest of forever.

+++

Topper’s words haunt him. He wants to apologize to her and give her and himself some form of closure. He doesn’t know how to approach it. They haven’t talked in years, not really. How does he talk to the person that he hurt so much?

He catches her after soundcheck one day, his wringing his hands together, riddled with anxiety. 

“Hey, Y/N?” He calls out after her as she passes him.

She slowly turns around and crosses her arms, raising her eyebrows at him in surprise. 

“What can I do for you?”

He gulps as she looks at him expectantly.

“I was wondering if you had listened to the album?” What? Why the hell did he open with that?

“Why would I listen to the album?” She asks incredulously 

“Well, because I mean it’s about,” he stumbles over his words, “I just wish you would listen to it and maybe hear me out.”

“You want me to listen to your album so that I can hear you?” She nods her head and puckers her lips. 

 “It’s so stupid that after all these years you can’t apologize to my face so you what? Make an album? Is your apology hidden in there somewhere?” 

“Yes-No, I just think that if you gave it a chance, we could talk about it.”

“You want me to pretend to give a shit about your album when you can’t tell me how you feel right now in person?” She’s laughing a little now. Shocked at his suggestion. He wants the ground to swallow him whole.

“Please, can you just listen?” 

“No Rafe. I am so done with this. I have been done with this. I don’t care about your album, I don't care about you.” Her words hit him like knives in his heart.

“Why do you care about my opinion about your album? Do you think I’m stupid? Do you think I don’t know that your album is about me? You called it Angel, Rafe! The fucking nickname that you gave me when we were 12 years old! I’m not some dumb girl who you can just manipulate and get whatever you want out of her. Not anymore. I am not that person for you.” She stops, her hands coming down from where she was waving them. He wants to say something but his mouth is dry and he has a ball the size of a grapefruit stuck in his throat.

“You made it incredibly clear to me that you don’t think of me as a person. Like- what did you say to me? That I’m just a fuck?” He grimaces when she throws his words from three years ago back at him. 

“Yeah, you said I’m just some girl you fuck, ‘you’re just some girl I fuck I don’t care about you.’ Sound about right?” He can’t move. He’s frozen.

“You could have worded it a million different ways and still gotten your message across. You could have been so much nicer. Let me down easy. Let me know in a better way that you found someone that you wanted to get to know. I would’ve put everything aside and just been your friend but no, you decided that I meant nothing to you, that everything we had been through, everything we had built, Our friendship was not important to you.”

 “Because I’m just someone you fucked. So, Don’t worry about me, don’t worry about my opinion because you’re just someone I fucked too and someone that I no longer care about. You are just my bandmate. You are just a coworker, I don’t think of you. I’m done with you. Keep your album. Good luck.”

He was so fucked. It would be a miracle if he ever got her to forgive him.

[concreteburialplot]

Cruel

Pairing: Nicholas x F!Reader

Masterlist: here | Crossposted: ao3 | Word Count: 5.7k

Warnings: Cocky Asshole!Nick, stereotypical cliché rockstar behavior, toxic af, petnames, fingering, oral (f receiving), p n v, cream pie, canon big fat co-, dramatic and cliché, ~making love~, happy ending, lightly edited, [you deserve better than men like this!!!], 18+ MDNI

Summary: Your long time on-again/off-again love finds you the second his tour bus reaches home. Even with your walls up, he charms his way into apartment and back into your heart.

A/N; Not my best work but this wip has been sitting in my drafts for over a year, finally decided to let it see the light of day. Enjoy 💕 Also… this almost became a Jake Kiszka fic…

“You paint a picture of us, just to burn it. Fool, I’m a fool if the shoe fits.”

- Cool // Gracie Abrams

The minute the GPS was set to home, there was a buzz on your phone that had been absent for the past two months. You unlocked it mindlessly, thinking nothing of it, but the second you read it your heart sunk to your stomach.

❌DO NOT ANSWER❌:

Gonna be back in town around midnight.

See you then?

Absolutely not. Why would you do that to yourself again. Yet, against your better judgement, you answered.

No.

You sent back simply, with your heart pounding in your ears.

He replied almost immediately. The speed of it made your heart flutter but you had to remind yourself that he was probably just bored on a tour bus. That you were probably just the easiest option after having an endless pick of groupies on the road.

Oh, c’mon don’t be like that

We could have fun

The thought of having him again sent a wavering behind your ribs that you quickly tried to squash down. You tugged your bottom lip between your teeth in thought. No, no, no – you repeated in your head like a mantra.

You: I don’t have fun with you.

Nick: It sure didn’t seem like that before I left

It was a half lie. While you did have fun together, he always came at a cost. He was never yours, not fully. Right before tour was always the worst.

While he was home everything felt different – domestic even at times, and each time you convinced yourself it’d be different, that that time would be the one to stick, that he would stay yours. But then weeks leading up to tour things would change, he’d grow distant, and fights would spawn out of nothing. In an instant, he wasn’t the man you were in love with. Love wasn’t a word you ever threw around in your label-less relationship, but it was felt, at least on your end. Regardless, sex was the one thing that always kept you two together – but it made you weak and pliable.

You: That’s not true and you know it

Nick: Just let me see you, we can talk about it

You mulled it over in your head. Your heart wanted nothing more than to see him again but that was exactly the reason you needed to resist. It was a war between your head and your heart and for once, your head was winning. You were sick of the rollercoaster of loving him, sick of getting your heart broken repeatedly. This tour was the biggest and longest they’d ever done, almost double their usual length, and the fallout with him before he left was the most damaging it’d ever been. The extra time apart allowed you to process the pain and assess the relationship. You’d been able to accept it for what it was and come to terms with the fact that you’d never have him the way you’ve always craved. While he was away, you grieved the crumbs of your situationship and chose yourself for once. Though, the pain that bloomed from that decision felt like a betrayal to your heart in the moment, but you knew it was for the better.

You know it’s for the better.

You: I don’t want to see you, Nicholas.

Nick: I wasn’t aware we were lying to each other now

Heat rose to your cheeks and your stomach churned in anger and pain as your brain flooded with infinite memories of him lying to you.

You: Oh, that’s fucking rich coming from you

Nick: Just let me see you

You: No. Why the fuck should I let you

Nick: I wanna talk Nick: I have something for you

You: I don’t want anything from you

Though, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t curious. Sometimes he’d bring you little nothings from his travels, but nothing notable or worthy of being a bargaining chip.

Nick: Just let me see you.

As much as you didn’t want to admit it, his persistence was wearing you down. It’s a horrible thing to be lovesick for a man who gives you just enough slices of dopamine to make you forget why you were mad or cautious in the first place. It was toxic and thrilling all at once. It was nothing but lies – both from him and yourself. Your heart was beginning to feed you false truths like: he could just come over, you’d call him on his bullshit and let him leave without him getting to you.

You gave into him, like you always did.

You: Fine. But you leave when I tell you to. Nick: No problem. See you in an hour.

You mentally scolded yourself, but you couldn’t help but feel the flurry of butterflies running rampant in your stomach.

After a while, you checked the time and noted that about an hour and a half had passed. Fear and disappointment trickled down your spine at the idea that he might not even show up after you gave into him like a fool. It made you sick to your stomach even though it wouldn’t be the first time he’d done that.

About 10 minutes later you heard a knock at the door and adrenaline spiked in your bloodstream. You took a look in your full-length mirror and smoothed out your silhouette. While you fed yourself the lie that nothing was going to happen, your hands chose a flowy sundress that laid mid-thigh.

When you opened your door, you were met with Nick in comfy clothes, clearly fresh from off the tour bus. As indifferent as you should’ve been, you couldn’t help but take notice of how good he looked with his hair up in a messy bun. Still, just the sight of him felt like a dagger through your already bleeding heart. It was a torturous duplicity being so in love with him, yet so heartbroken from just looking at him. All the work you did to suppress and heal your wounds crashed back down to square one. The second he spoke you knew you’d made a horrible mistake.

“Hey.” He smiled and you could tell he suppressed a smirk.

“Hey.” You replied flatly. Your resiliency was already begging to falter. You hadn’t heard his voice in months, and it stirred something in you – something both vicious and compelling. You came to realize that this was a dangerous game you chose to play.

His eyes fluttered down your frame, soaking in the vision of you completely. “You look,” He paused, and you expected something vulgar, but he surprised you. “Fantastic.”

A peachy hue grew on the tops of your cheeks at the compliment, and you silently reprimanded yourself for letting him get to you already.

He stepped closer to you, brushing your hair just behind your bare shoulder to admire you fully. “All this for me?”

And just like that, the flutter in your stomach fell along with the edges of your lips. Your eyes begged to roll at the question, but you restrained it to just a scowl.  “What are you doing here, Nick?”

“To see you silly.” He said nonchalantly while his crystal eyes held something more you couldn’t place – it was like a glint of something deeper than he was letting on. “Now let me in, won’t you?”

You sighed and stepped aside to let him past you. “You said you wanted to talk?” You pressed against the door to close it behind you. When it clicked into place you rested flat against it with your arms crossed.

His head tilted around the small space to take it in, even though it wasn’t drastically different, any remanence of him was gone. Then, he met your eyes again to answer your question. “That’s what we’re doing, isn’t it?”

You groaned, unraveling your arms to ball your fists at your sides. “You’re so fucking infuriating.”

So much for keeping your cool.

He huffed out a maddening laugh. “All worked up, are we? Must’ve been really frustrated while I was gone.”

“Actually, it’s been real fucking peaceful.” Your arms crossed back over your chest. “What do you want, Nicholas?”

“I wanted to see you.” He said earnestly, this time with less smugness to it. “And to give you this.” His arm went behind himself and into his back pocket only to pull out a palm-sized stuffed black cat. He held the sitting stuffie in his hand on display.

Your heart sunk the second your eyes landed on the stuffed toy. Both anger and heartache bubbled into your stomach, into your veins and all across your skin. Your shoulder muscles stiffened reflexively. “Why the fuck would you bring me that?”

The truth was that the cat contained more than just stuffing – it represented a past floating idea of a shared black cat between you. Whenever you two were at your best, you discussed adopting one together. You’d keep it at your place since he’s so often away from home, but it would be shared nonetheless. It never happened of course, but there he was holding a physical placeholder for it.

“I saw it and thought of you.” He said infuriatingly nonchalant, though you couldn’t tell if the ignorance was genuine or not.

You crossed the threshold between you and snatched the stuffie from his hand. You squeezed it by its sides in front of his face, “This is cruel, and you know it.”

While you were fuming, there was still a small pathetic part of you that swooned at the fact that he remembered such a small thing.

He reached out to graze up your jaw to your chin. “Even when you’re pissed at me you’re beautiful.”

You smacked his hand away from you, not wanting anything to do with him or his dizzying games. “You are such a fucking prick, and you know it. You know what this little toy means to me, and it means nothing to you.” You nearly spat at him while you shoved a finger into his sternum.

He grasped your wrist, keeping it in place as he stepped forward. “Who said it doesn’t?”

The air between you seemed to dissipate, leaving your throat barren of oxygen. Yet, your self respect held strong against his convincing words. “You’re a liar. A cruel liar.”

He closed the gap between you further until his lips were hovering just above your own. “I’m not lying.” Your nose filled with his scent – peppery cologne, weed and beer. It wasn’t the most pleasant mixture of smells, but it was him and he was something you’d missed and longed for the past two months. His smell and his proximity had your chest swirling with love and desperation. You wanted – no – you needed him to be telling the truth this time. It had to be the truth.

“I’m not lying.” He replied softly with his eyes falling from your own to your lips then meeting your gaze once more. “Let me show you how honest I’m being.”

It wasn’t your smartest move, giving into him so effortlessly. He just made it so easy to believe anything that came out of his pretty mouth. It wouldn’t be the first time you fell for his tricks and unfortunately, something told you it wouldn’t be the last.

When your lips met, it was electric, sparking and hot. You weren’t sure if that was just what he’d always felt like or if it had just been months since he touched you last.

It didn’t take long before his fingers frantically tangled in your hair. You matched his energy, curling fists into the base of his bun. He stumbled you both back onto your couch with your lips glued to each other’s. The kiss was full of fire and pent-up tension.

You ended up with both knees on either side of his hips. Your lips landed on the spiderweb tattoo on his neck, immediately sucking at the ink. He let out a hiss at the intensity of your suction. Your hips swiveled over the bulge growing in his pants.

“Fuck.” He groaned and tugged at the hem of your dress, silently asking you to pull it off.

You detached from his neck briefly and yanked the sundress off your body tossing it on the floor. Before you could return to your spot on his neck, he grabbed your face to meet his lips again. It was messy with teeth clashing and hasty tongues fighting for dominance.

Your hands fumbled between your bodies to unzip his jeans to let him out. You wondered how he was even able to stay in his pants with his massive size when he was hard. You took him in one hand while the other stabilized you on his shoulder. He groaned into the kiss as you worked him in your hand.

His fingers curled tightly into your hair, “I need to fucking be inside you.” He all but growled.

You nodded quick and breathless, you needed just the same. You tugged away and spit multiple times onto his impressive size. It had been months since you’ve had him, there’s no way this wasn’t going to hurt.

You lifted on your knees, as much as you could, Nick helped by pushing your panties to the side and sliding his fingers up and down your folds.

“You’re so fucking wet for me.” His fingers dipped inside you, just a fingertip deep to gather some of your juices and used it to better coat your entrance. He paused and his brows furrowed a bit. With how full you felt with just one finger you could only imagine what he was thinking. “You’re going to need more prep than this for me.”

You whined, but you knew he was right. It had been so long since you’d taken him, and your cunt needed time to refamiliarize itself with his size.

Your hand never halted on his length, and it was obvious on his twisted features and his mouth slightly parted. No matter how angry you were at him, it didn’t take away from how pretty he looked when he was drunk off of you.

He pumped his finger slowly in and out of you just to set a pace before adding another. A small gasp fell from your lips at the addition and stilled all of your movements.

“Just relax baby,” He soothed, and you softened in his hold. “That’s it, let me take care of you.”

It was a weighty thing to ask of you, but your mind turned to mush the second his thumb found your clit, rubbing slow circles on it. Your eyes rolled back, and your chest gave way to him. “Fuck, Nick.” You muttered out pathetically.

“I missed you.”

-was the last thing you expected to hear from him in that moment, but you were so lost in euphoria that you couldn’t wrap your head around it. “Mmmhm.” You hummed as your eyes fluttered closed. “Missed you too, Nicky.”

You were absolute putty in his hands, he knew exactly how to work you into whatever he wanted. You were easily pliable to him, and in that moment, he was grateful for it. He placed a soft kiss to your collarbone, then another at the base of your neck. “Missed me how, angel? Tell me.” He whispered, his voice low and crackly.

Your jaw fell slack when he added a third finger but you were so worked up that it hadn’t been that difficult. It still burned but the pleasure he was supplying to your clit was overshadowing any pain.

“Use your words, princess. Let me hear how much you missed me.” He was practically begging you for any morsel you’d give him. He’d never admit it but he was desperate for you too. “Tell me baby, did you touch yourself thinking about me?”

Your head lulled to the side, cascading your hair over your shoulder. “Uh huh.” Was all you could muster.

“Mmm. Like this?” His fingers curled inside you, hitting that sweet spot that was rarely touched by you or anyone else.

You gasped at the feeling in tandem with his thumb on your clit. His fingers pulsed against the soft inner tissue in a rhythm that made your brain numb. It was a spot only he had ever really been able to reach, either with his fingers or his cock. He knew your body better than anyone else ever had and he was good at it.

A smirk played across his lips, evidently satisfied with your response. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

The warning of an orgasm burned in the pit of your tummy, filling it with tingling warmth. It must’ve been all over your face because he caught on quickly. “Oh, what’s wrong? Is my pretty girl going to cum already?” He spoke smoothly up your neck while his fingers increased their speed ever so slightly, just enough to tip you over the edge.

You abruptly grabbed hold of his shoulder, squeezing it with every bit of strength inside you as your orgasm washed over you. The euphoria began just below your navel then spread electricity across your skin. You felt it everywhere, down to your fingers and your toes.

He let out a satisfied chuckle against your throat, “That’s my girl.” He praised and held you as your body began to collapse against him. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.”

When you were finally spent is when he really came to life.

“Fuck I need to taste you.” He exhaled and as soon as you nodded, he snatched you, holding you with both hands securely below your ass. He was in a frenzy, like a shark that just smelled blood. “I want to taste all of you, every bit of mess you just made.”

He hastily carried you over to the bed across the room in your small apartment. He laid you gently, but impatiently, on the edge of the bed with his lips planted on yours.

You barely had time to miss his lips before his tongue latched onto your clit and his fingers returned to their place inside you. He brought you back down to just two fingers in order to give you a bit of reprieve.

Your mouth immediately created an ‘O’ shape with wide eyes at the skill of his tongue. “O-Oh.”

He ate you hungrily as if he hadn’t had pussy in weeks which historically, when he’s off on tours, was quite the opposite. He gave you no time to get caught up in your thoughts with the way his tongue slithered ‘S’ motions from your clit to your entrance, then taking his time at your throbbing bud. He lapped up every bit of your orgasm, not wanting to leave anything behind. The feeling bloomed a sparking heat from the pit of your core to the rest of your body and you silently cursed him for making you feel so good.

When you glanced down you noticed that while he was bent eating you, his hand had been on his cock – gliding up and down swiftly and in rhythm with his fingers and tongue. You thought that might’ve been the hottest thing you’d ever seen, and you couldn’t keep your eyes off of the way he couldn’t not touch himself while eating you.

You let out a tiny moan at the sensation of his tongue against your swollen clit. But god did he feel good. It had to have been his extensive body count that made him good in bed and while you didn’t like thinking about it, you were surely grateful for it in the moment. His tongue expertly spun around your nub with various patterns. You couldn’t help but wiggle around at the stimulation to which he hooked his arms around your thighs and brought you to the edge of the bed. His knees met the wood floors, his tongue never once wavering. When he pulled your bud into his mouth with a suck you knew you wouldn’t last much longer.

You shook your head, while he felt amazing, you needed more. “I need your cock, Nick, please.” You begged, pathetically.

His lips curled into a smirk against your core, placing a soft kiss at your clit. “Whatever you wish, princess.”

Your heart swelled and your tummy swirled at the name, it was your favorite, and he knew it. You were convinced it was the best sound in the world when it fell from his lips.

He pressed kisses up until your mid torso before pulling away. You whined at the loss of contact, but you knew it was only for something better. You squirmed at the attention and parted your legs even further, wanting more.

“Look at you, all laid out for me.” He cooed, with his eyes wandering across your body trying to choose his favorite part of you. His fingers trailed up your thighs, taking his time to savor your skin. “Okay, now baby, take a deep breath for me, will you?”

You did as he instructed but your breath hitched in your throat as he slid his fingers inside you once more, this time adding a third finger again. It burned a bit, being stretched out that much, but you knew it had to be done in order to take him fully.

“Good girl.” He hummed as he began pumping his fingers in a slow pace. After some time familiarizing you with the span of his fingers, he decided he wanted to take it further. “Actually, can I have you a different way?”

You nodded, too fucked out to deny him of anything.

His hands were rough when he flipped you over onto your stomach. His pointer and ring fingers slid up, spreading your lips open to let the tip of his cock sit at your entrance. He leaned down to just beside the shell of your ear.

“I wanna hear how bad you want it.”

You let out a near guttural groan at the statement. You were clenching around nothing just at his proximity.

“Oh c’mon, I can feel how bad she wants me.”

“Please, please I need your fucking cock.” You begged.

He smirked against your skin, “Good girl.” His hips moved forward, slowly pushing himself into you. You could feel yourself parting around him painfully, even with the prep you did. Your hips stiffened up not quite remembering how to take him. He took his time, carefully moving deeper inside you.

“Now tell me baby,” He hummed, dipping his fingers down between you. His fingertips slid around his girth to feel where you and he became one. You wondered if he could feel the burn that he was causing. “Has anyone else touched this pretty pussy while I’ve been gone?”

The question caught you off guard, quite literally the last thing you ever thought he’d ask you in this situation. Your eyes instinctively wanted to widen but you squeezed them shut instead. Heat bloomed on your cheeks, but you hoped he didn’t notice.

“Oh, c’mon now, be honest.” He teased in a patronizing tone.

You swallowed all the saliva left in your mouth and pressed your lips shut tight. You knew you couldn’t lie to him, especially not in such a vulnerable position. The truth was that you tried any and everything to get him out of your mind - which landed you some vices in your time apart. You and Nick weren’t anything of substance, nothing official. You were sure Nick had to know since it had come up previously and he never seemed phased by it – you knew about his tour hookups, how would this be any different. Regardless, you had no idea why he was even bringing it up and wished he wouldn’t.

He didn’t seem to like your silent pause and halted his movements. “If you don’t answer I’ll stop.” He threatened.

You groaned in frustration and threw your head down into the mattress. “Fine, fine,” You spat out in defeat. “Yes. One.”

“Hmm.” He stretched out the noise to emphasize his disbelief. “I think you’re a poor liar.” His fingers grazed over your clit briefly, just to remind you what you were missing. “Don’t lie to me baby, you won’t like the outcome.”

You sighed, feeling defeated and helpless beneath him. “Two.” It was the honest truth. One of them he knew about, a long-time casual friends with benefits. The other, was a drunken mistake from the bar on a particularly lonely night.

He sheathed himself fully inside you, “Yeah I can tell.” He said in a pointed tone, and it caused your brows to furrow, wondering what exactly he meant by that. “Oh, don’t worry I don’t mean it that way.” His fingers trailed down your side to hook into your hip, pulling you flush against him. “I can tell by the way you’re trying to adjust to me.” His voice was smooth and deep. “Like your body got too comfortable with something less than me.” His hips shifted back just to fall back into you, hitting you right in the spot that made your stomach twist. It was painful but delicious, reminding you exactly why you’d made this mistake with him so many times. “Or is that what you prefer now?”

You shook your head quickly, you didn’t want anything other than him, you never had. As rocky as your relationship had been, Nick was always the one who owned your heart. It never for one second had been held by anyone other than him in the past couple years. It was sad how loyal you were to him when it was obvious that he never felt the same – at least not in a committed way. “No.” You breathed out. “I want you, Nick.” You looked over your shoulder to meet his eyes and they were filled with something that felt almost like jealousy, but you’d never known Nicholas to be jealous. He’d always been very fluid about your connection – always very clear about the openness of your relationship.

“Say it again.” He demanded while his hands held your hips in place as he slammed back into you in one swift move. His tip landed straight into your cervix, causing a jolt of pain up your spine.

“I want you, Nick.” You repeated with a strained voice.

He finally began a slow rhythm in and out of you, almost like a reward for listening to him. He reached forward and grasped your chin to get you to look back at him again. “Again.”

Your brows knitted at his request – it seemed almost cruel for him to have you repeat the obvious. “I want you.” You whispered. Tears began to well up in your eyes and you couldn’t tell if it was from your emotions or from the burn of him stretching you out. He squeezed your cheeks at the sight of your tears, silently asking you again. “I want you.” You squeaked out, trying to keep the tightness in your chest at bay. “I want you, I want you, I want you.” You repeated over and over, now letting tears flow freely down your cheeks. It bloomed an ache in your chest that you never wanted to feel in the middle of sex.

Suddenly, you felt him pull from you completely but before you got a chance to question it, he flipped you over onto your back. You were only vacant of him for a millisecond before he slid back into place between your legs. He hovered over you, his unraveled hair gathered onto one side of his head, brushing against your shoulder. “I don’t want you to ever question that again.”

“I never did.” You admitted embarrassingly quick. “What’s this about?” You questioned, wondering why you were having this conversation while he was still inside you. Though, he was never one to choose an appropriate time to talk about things.

“I missed you.” He repeated his statement from earlier that you were too fucked out to process. His voice was raspy with lust, but genuine. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

You blinked up at him and shook your head, not wanting to get caught up in his empty promises. “Can we just talk about this later?” Although, the moment had already been squandered for you.

“No.” He continued his slow and steady pace while his eyes were set on yours. “I mean it. I want this. I want us.”

Your eyes grew wide in disbelief. You’d never heard him sound so serious about anything, nonetheless about you. “You do?”

“I’ve been an idiot. All I wanted to do was come home to you.” He pressed his forehead against yours. “And the idea of someone else touching you makes me sick. I’m selfish. I want you all to myself. I want you to be mine.”

“I’ve always been yours, Nick.” You whispered with brows curved up in sincerity. Even with flings and vices your heart never beat for anyone else, you could never love another – no matter how stupid it made you look. You were stuck on him whether you liked it or not. You’d always been his even when he wasn’t yours, even when he wanted nothing to do with you.

His grey eyes shifted between your glossy eyes trying to read your honesty. He said nothing more before uniting your lips into the deepest kiss you’d ever felt. Love was a whisper lingering on your tongue, but you knew tonight wasn’t the night for that. Passion quickly spread from your heated kiss to the speed of his hips. His thrusts were fast and hard, though they weren’t fueled by a promise of an orgasm but rather by a need to show you exactly how he felt. Your entire body bounced against his rough repetitions, and it was overwhelming in the best way.

His head fell into your neck, his heavy breaths against your sensitive skin sent tingles across your body. “You’re taking me so well.” He muttered below your ear. His hand found your leg and ran his fingers beneath it, pulling it up from behind your knee and bending it towards you as far as it would allow. The new position spread you out even more and made sure you felt everything – the way the head of his cock embedded itself into your g-spot and the way your walls stretched around him. “Doesn’t that feel good baby, being so full?”

You let out a moan as your eyes rolled back. “Fuck yes.” It was the truth, no one ever filled you like he did.

“Uh-uh.” His hand grasped your cheeks. “Eyes on me.”

The sensations of everything were enough to fill your clit with buzzing need and you gasped when his thumb found it. Your eyes widened as he began rolling small circles into it in time with his quick pace.

“Oh-oh.” You stuttered out pathetically as you felt the knot in your stomach tighten, threatening to snap already.

“Take your time baby, there’s no rush.” He soothed but it only accelerated your already impending orgasm. Your fingers curled into his arms harshly, surely hard enough to leave half-moon imprints into his skin. “Oh, I know, I know.” He comforted.

That’s all it took to unravel you. Tingly warmth spread across your body, making every inch of you feel blissful. It was enough to temporarily blind your vision as you got lost in the immense pleasure that was overtaking your entire being.

“That’s it angel, just like that. I want all of it.” He said softly below your ear, but it was clear with the shakiness of his own voice that he was close too.

His speed became rapid and erratic as he sensed you reaching the height of your peak. “Fuck.” He murmured into your neck as he slammed his hips into yours faster than you could process. “Fuck I’m gonna cum.”   

All you did in response was cross your legs around his waist to pull him in deeper. It didn’t take long for him to meet you in your climax. You felt his cock twitch and pulse inside of you followed by warmth pooling in the deepest part of you.

When the moment was over, Nick took his time, tenderly ensuring you were both clean and comfortable. Aftercare was something he never skipped, but tonight, he seemed especially patient and tender. Once he’d helped you into your favorite pajamas and made a warm cup of tea, he pulled you gently into his side.

“I’m sorry it took me so long.” he said, peering down at you with a sincerity that made your heart ache.

You gave him a small knowing nod, too spent to say more. Curled against his side, a quiet apprehension settled over you, memories of past mistakes lingered softly at the edges of your mind. He was the last person you should trust, but your heart couldn’t summon the strength to turn him away. So, you chose to believe in him once more, silently hoping this time would be different and that his words were true. As he held you tighter than ever, your choice felt right. Finally, he was yours, and you were his.

A/N; thank you so much for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts<3

Taglist; @measuredingold @ladyveronikawrites @deathblacksmoke @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning

[heavenlyakin]

Tw: pregnancy, discussion of fatherhood and parenting and abandonment. selfship coded. not edited.

–

Atsumu had been ecstatic when you showed him the positive pregnancy test. He’d pulled you into his arms so quickly you hadn’t realized there might have been something else behind his eyes. You hadn’t felt it in his hug, but he was shaking. 

Once you left to go about your day, Atsumu called in sick. Something he never did. Practice was a solace for him, but today nothing would give him comfort. All the memories of his childhood rushing back. All of them seemingly perfect but for the ache of who was missing.

He didn’t talk about it to anyone, but Osamu on occasion because he quite literally is the only other person in the world who would understand what he was feeling. He experienced it too. The longing and loathing that came with a father who abandoned you. 

Is abandoned the right word? He wondered as he laid in bed, staring at the ceiling. He had been there, when he wanted. Given he was drunk or pissed or both the times he had been. Atsumu wished he’d just never known the man who fathered him and his brother. It might be easier. 

How can he be a father when he doesn’t have a good example of one to model himself after? 

He let it consume him for the day. His fears and doubts all culminate into one of the worst depressive episodes he’s ever dealt with. He hadn’t felt this way in years, not since so much good had been happening to him. He was always able to focus on the good, but for some reason with this, despite thinking it was what he wanted, he couldn’t see the light at the end of the tunnel. 

What if he hurt you and your child the way his father had hurt him? 

You knew something was wrong when you came home and saw him in bed. Even on his longest days, Atsumu never took the time to go to bed to nap. He’d crash out literally anywhere but the bed. His favorite spot, the dark brown recliner that you thought was an eyesore was usually his favorite napping spot. 

There’s been exactly three times you’ve gotten a text from Sakusa telling you Atsumu skipped practice. All three times you’d found him like he is now. He’s laying on his stomach, face buried in the pillows and not responding to you as you try and get his attention from the doorway. 

“Atsumu, babe,” you coo softly, sitting on the edge of the bed and running your fingers through his unkempt hair. It takes a few minutes of coaxing before he even acknowledges you. 

He mumbles something back in response, but doesn’t budge. Even when you try to fill him in on your friend’s reaction to the joyful news. 

The sting of it burns in your chest, but you know this isn’t something you’ve done. Osamu had mentioned when they were younger, especially middle and high school, Atsumu would get this way. Usually when their father decided to interfere with their lives. 

“I’ll be right back,” you tell him, squeezing his shoulder gently before walking back to the living room to call his twin. 

Osamu picks up and you explain what’s going on. He promises to be over soon. A promise that he keeps. You open the door only fifteen minutes after the call ended, Osamu still dressed in his work attire. 

“Where is he?” He asks, his eyes full of concern. 

“The bedroom, he won’t talk to me.” 

“Did something happen?” He asks, something he didn’t ask on the phone. “Did he come around?” The he you’re assuming is their father. 

“No,” you shake your head. “We got some news today…” 

“What is it?” Osamu is clearly not trying to pry, but genuinely concerned for Atsumu. 

“I’m pregnant. We’d been trying for a few months… I just thought it would be good news!” You can’t help the tears pooling in your eyes and you don’t try to stop them from falling. “I didn’t know it would upset him like this.” 

Osamu pulls you into him and you cry on his shoulder. “First of all, congratulations. I can’t wait to be an uncle.” He takes you by the shoulders and makes you look at him. “This isn’t your fault,” he jerks his head towards the bedroom door where Atsumu is. “I dunno what Atsumu told you about our father, but whatever he’s feeling now is because of that motherfucker. Not you.” 

You nod and step back, letting Osamu go to Atsumu. You sit on the couch, pulling a blanket over your body. You’re shivering, not because you’re cold but the emotional response to all of this. You try to be quiet, hoping to hear something from Osamu or Atsumu, but you can’t hear whatever they’re talking about. If they’re talking. 

After an hour, they both come out and you stay sitting. Atsumu isn’t smiling, but he’s out of bed and walking around. 

“I’ll see you both tomorrow,” Osamu tells you and you nod. “Congrats again,” he smiles at you before leaving. 

“I’m sorry,” Atsumu throws himself down on the couch beside you, his head landing in your lap. 

“You don’t have to apologize,” you tell him, brushing his hair off his forehead. You lean down and kiss his forehead softly. “You don’t have to explain, just don’t scare me like that again.” 

“I know,” he looks up at you with sad eyes. “I’m not upset about the news,” he tells you. “I’m honestly so happy about it, but I’m fucking terrifed.” He finally admits. 

“Babies are scary,” you tell him and he shakes his head. 

He sits up. “No, it’s not the baby. It’s me.” His eyes are red as he starts to explain. He spills all his fears of fatherhood to you, all of them coming to a simple issue. He’s scared he won’t be enough. 

“There’s no way you’ll ever be like your father,” you tell him after a few moments of silence. 

“How do we know that?” 

“Because you’re this worried about it. Dirtbags don’t worry about if they’re going to be enough.” You take his hand and squeeze it. “You’re never going to be perfect at it. I definitely won’t be, but we will be more than enough for this child.” 

Whether it’s his fear or your words, something sends Atsumu over and he starts to cry while pulling you against him.

[ivymarquis]

A Little Death

Pairing| Ghost x F!Reader Rating| M Word Count| 7k Kinks/Content/Warnings| The author has decided she can't be assed to edit this, Chubby!Reader, Kidnapping, nondescript mentions of torture. Ambiguous mentions of S/A (vague enough you can chose to ignore that part if you want tbh), Reader is traumatized from her ordeal but working through it. Fingering, PiV, riding, squirting, Simon has a moment where he's worried he triggered reader after sex but that is an incorrect assumption on his part.

On days like this Simon can almost pretend he’s normal. 

The game’s on, a beer in one hand while the other has been commandeered by his girlfriend with a simple “Gimmie.”

Simon has never been one to worry about his nails beyond clipping them for practicality’s sake.

Having a SAS lieutenant for a boyfriend means she deals with what she insists is Simon’s paranoia and he insists is a healthy level of suspicion about the outside world. Having a nail technician for a girlfriend means every so often she’ll commandeer his hands to ensure they’re up to her standards. As it turned out, adhering to regulations wasn’t up to par for her. 

His neighbor is a popular woman.

It sets him on edge, all the traffic. One or two people at a time, usually other women- sometimes with a man in tow, other times not. They show up, they stay for maybe an hour or maybe 4, and they leave. Within 30 minutes someone else is knocking on her door.

Normal men humor their partners about things they don’t particularly give a fuck about when left to their own devices, as an acknowledgment of its importance to them. 

And so he sits, beer in one hand as she works on the other. Once she’s finished she gathers up the towel that acts as a catch for the various clips and trimmings before making her move to switch sides, Simon easily acquiescing to her whim.

“I’m not keeping you up, am I?” She asks one night. Music plays lowly from a laptop on her patio as he steps onto his for a smoke break. Just because he’s got his vice doesn’t mean he wants the whole flat smelling like it.

“Don’t sleep much anyway, pet. Bit of music won’t change that one way or another.”

Despite his insistence that he’s merely humoring her, he soaks up the attention she readily gives him. When she’s done and tidied after herself she returns with a small bottle of lotion.

He’s got one arm wrapped around her shoulders, pressing a chaste kiss to the top of her head as she massages his hand. If he plays his cards right tonight he can probably get her to soothe some of the aches and stiff muscles that always plague him. For now he melts as she seems to know exactly what points to hit in his palm and forearm. 

It’s domestic and normal and Simon can almost ignore the burner phone he keeps on him at all times.

It goes off at 5am on a Sunday, Simon already awake and having been watching the ceiling fan since 4:30. He can’t fall back asleep but can’t bring himself to separate from her. 

She burrows further into his chest as his shifting disrupts her. He’s fairly certain she would crawl inside his ribcage if she could, curl up right next to his heart and never leave. 

Simon would gladly let her. 

She’s a nail technician, he comes to learn. Sure as shit, he eventually memorizes the traffic that comes and goes on a roughly two week interval. Some of them are steadfast in their appointments. 2 o clock every other Thursday. 4 o clock every other Friday. Others not so much- they come around frequently but the days and times are random after the 14 day mark. 

The familiarity of some of the faces takes him slightly less on edge. He will never relax, not truly, but it settles him down now that he knows the pattern. 

It also explains why her hands have two completely different designs on each one. Color, pattern, the shape of the nails. Her left and right hand look like they belong to two different people. 

Simon doesn’t use social media, for obvious reasons. His little neighbor has formed an entire career for herself based off of it. 

But the phone buzzes on the nightstand, an omniscient presence that always hovers heavy in the air.

“Price?” Is all he gives for a greeting. Trying to keep his words short and concise. He doesn’t want to wake her, still under the lull she draws him into without trying. 

He keeps his work and his personal life separate with no intention of ever melding the two. 

“Laswell’s got intel. We meet in 2 days, back on base at 06:00.”

He is about to respond, both an acknowledgment and a hopeful end to the conversation, when she stretches next to him with a groan of protest at being awoken so early. 

“Tell your other girlfriend I said hi,” she grumbles, already knowing it’s Price on the phone and that the clock is officially counting down on the time they have left together. 

“You know at a certain point I'm going to just decide you’ve got a whole secret life with a wife and kids and a picket fence.”

He doesn’t want his work to ever follow him home. Not to her. He keeps them strictly separate. She knows he’s military- specifically SAS- and that he works in counter terrorism and that’s about all he’s willing to tell. She doesn’t need to know details. And more importantly the details don’t ever need to know about her. 

His past missions have haunted him in the worst way possible. He’s finally rebuilt something for himself as the ghost of a dead man, and doesn’t want anything to ever tarnish what he’s found. 

He can’t entirely blame her. It takes a leap of faith to accept the little he offers her. What does he have? A dead man’s name and most likely a violent end waiting for him. 

Eventually he does offer a small peace offering. Price is enough to settle the concerns that she hides as jokes. Provides enough credibility that she can let go of the concern that he’s living a double life.

Well, he is. But not the kind that nags at her. 

Price knows her; Gaz and Soap know that he’s got someone waiting for him at home, but Simon is already at his limit of how much intermingling he can handle. They’re both compromising, both making allowances for their comfort levels for the sake of the other. But he has to draw the line somewhere. 

If Simon had his way Gaz and Soap would be none the wiser, but a night of frantic coupling before he’d left had Simon bearing marks that are incredibly obvious in the changing room. 

“Steamin’ Jesus L.T.! You get jumped by a wildcat?” The chortle from the Scot makes it obvious that Johnny is yet again not afraid to push Simon’s buttons. 

There’s no denying what they are, nor how he got them. Neither Soap nor Gaz are stupid. 

Long, red scratch marks criss cross the broad expanse of his scarred back. He certainly hadn’t complained when his lovely girl had left her mark on him- those nails dragging across his skin had only encouraged him as his hips clapped wetly against hers, hands gripping her knees as he pressed them to her shoulders.

Most nights he is soft and gentle and strokes her skin while his lips press either in her hair or the soft expanse of her neck. He doesn’t roughhouse her tonight, but the knowledge he’ll be gone for weeks and tonight is their last together for the foreseeable future?

Well, the pair of them are a bit amped about the impending separation. It’s a good thing neither of them are particularly known for their good sleeping habits, because there’s not a lot of that usually happening on the nights before Simon leaves. 

Leaving without waking her up is an impossible task but he tries anyway.

Whereas Simon finds sleep difficult to achieve and eventually sleeps like the dead once he finds it, she drifts readily enough but will wake at the drop of a hat.

Usually she’ll settle soon after. Eyes following his form in the dark, waiting expectantly for him to come back after he dresses to kiss her goodbye. 

They carve out a routine for themselves. One for when Simon is home, and one for when he’s preparing to walk out the door until eventually coming back through it.

His therapist is equal parts shocked and pleased to hear that Simon is taking the leap and opening himself up emotionally to someone. 

His therapist is less pleased about the way he simply buries himself in her life when he’s on leave.

Simon is nothing- has nothing- when he is not acting in the line of duty. He is a dead man with nothing to his name and no one who gives a fuck if he ever walks back through the door that isn’t tied to his military career. 

He thrives on the stability and schedule on base. On the simplicity of nights spent out on the field. Wake up, piss, dont die, go to sleep. Wake up, repeat. 

Some days the only thing keeping him from trying to end it all (again, he bitterly acknowledges) when he’s gotten too far into a bottle of bourbon is his therapist and the thought of his team’s face at the news. 

Until, at least, he meets her. 

The mission is brief but successful. Simon is pleased. 

The deepest of the scratch marks has just finished healing and he’s already missing the sensation of her nails dragging against his skin- and he’s not picky about the context, either. 

There have been plenty of nights he’s fallen asleep with his face buried in her chest with one of her hands scratching gently at his scalp and the other tracing in broad strokes across his back.

Of course those nails also feel divine scratching at his abdomen while she is on her knees for him.

There’s a process he goes through when he gets home. It lets him shed the mantle of Ghost- to calm down as much as he’s able and be better equipped to deal with civilian life. Helps him give her the illusion that she is with a normal man who’s not holding onto himself with a death grip, desperately trying to keep the pieces together.

He feels fine when he leaves base and heads home. Everything is normal. 

Until he turns the corner and sees the door ajar.

Fear runs ice cold in his veins, hackles raised and on guard. 

I’m just being paranoid, he tries to self soothe as he steps towards the door. She tells me all the time.

Course, it was one thing when he gripes about how she answers the door without looking to see who it is. She doesn’t leave the fucking door open.

“Wish you’d at least look at the peep hole before just opening the bloody door,” he grouses into her hair, pulling her in so she’s tucked up to his side. 

“If I’m expecting someone to come at 3 and there’s a knock at 3, I already know who it is, Si.”

There are times when he is grateful that she has, by comparison, lived a life where she thinks he is paranoid and needlessly worries. She hasn’t had the experiences he has, and he doesn’t wish that upon her. He’s grateful with the knowledge that every time he’s sent out, thus far, that she’s been tucked away safe and sound until he returns. 

But of course the other shoe was always going to drop eventually. 

“Price?” Simon doesn’t know who else to call. 

He’s standing in the middle of his flat, evidence of an altercation scattered around the living room. 

She put up a fight if the state of the flat is anything to go by. He wants to be proud of that at least, use it as hope-

He just feels hollow. 

A group the 141 has dealt with prior are the ones all the signs point to. They wanted the team’s attention and by God they fucking got it. 

Simon doesn’t understand how they found she has any ties to him. He’s so careful- keeps her tucked away and hidden from any potential cross over with his work.

The next few days are a blur and Simon’s mental health has seen better days. 

He resigns himself, even when Laswell gets a hit and the 141 are loaded into a helo, to the fact that at best this will be a body retrieval mission. 

Even as Soap gives a reassuring knock into his shoulder- we’ll get her back, LT- as confident as ever. 

His sweet girl is dead, just like every other person Simon has ever cared about. 

He doesn’t understand what he’s done to deserve losing them all. The only ones he has left are his team, and that’s a tenuous state at best. His family was good. They were normal people with normal lives. She is good and a normal person. 

Her only sin is being foolish enough to love him. 

Some time between getting on the bird and offloading, Simon forces the thoughts in a corner and blocks them off. 

Simon, the terrified boyfriend, gives way to Ghost so he can get through this in one piece. He just wants to find her, bring her home and bury her body. He’s numb to anything beyond the scope of the plan he’s formed in his mind. 

It’s laughably easy. A fringe group the 141 has had altercations with- she’s not exactly a high profile prisoner. They just wanted to fuck with Simon.

There’s no satisfaction or vindication as they clear the building floor by floor. 

He feels nothing.

The further they venture into the building with no sign of her, the pit in his stomach sinks just as far. There’s no sign of anything concrete or anywhere they’d keep a prisoner. 

And then there, in a corner of a hallway, Ghost spots it-

An acrylic nail lying broken on the ground, dried blood clotted on the tips. 

For the first time in days, Simon feels something. 

It’s not hope. He doesn’t dare hope. 

But it’s confirmation that she has, at some point, been in the building. 

It’s also confirmation that she gave it a fighting chance. 

She’s a civilian- nothing much she can do against professional criminals. But she tried and Simon has to find something in that.

They split into pairs down a hallway clearing rooms. Every door that opens only to not have her in it is like a knife that keeps twisting in his abdomen. 

Just let him have this one thing. 

It’s just as Ghost and Soap have called out clear on another room that he hears Price’s voice call to him down the hall. 

There’s only one reason Price would be calling for him specifically.

As he approaches he can hear the captain again, softer this time. Can’t make out what he’s saying but everything feels slow; like he’s moving under water. 

As his mind prepares him for every horrific potential image waiting for him beyond the threshold of the door- there’s nothing that prepares him for what he sees. 

She’s alive. 

Wide eyed and panicked, which is to be expected all things considered, but she’s here and she’s breathing.

Simon forgets himself entirely. He swings wildly from feeling nothing to feeling everything and it bubbles up all at once as he barrels towards her. 

He forgets that while she knows Simon is SAS she knows nothing of Ghost. Simon works in counter terrorism, yes, but she knows nothing about the mask.

So after being kidnapped and going through God-knows-what in her absence, she’s got no fucking clue the 6’4 fucker with the skull mask gunning for her is her boyfriend. 

The sharp, croaked “Stay the fuck away from me!” doesn’t cut but it does jog his memory enough to know she’s absolutely terrified.

Again there’s that part of him that is proud of her. After everything she’s been through even if she wouldn’t stand a chance in an actual altercation- She’s not huddled in the corner. She looks willing to fight him, until Simon rips the mask off his face. “It’s me, love! It’s me.”

“Simon? What the fuck is that?!”

Rather than scrambling to get away she turns to launch herself at him, a tangle of limbs as they cling to each other and reassure themselves that yes this is real and yes the other is there. That this fucking nightmare is over.

Simon buries his nose in her hair- was so certain he’d be bringing her home in a body bag he almost doesn’t know what to do with himself. She’s shaking in his grip, sobs ripping through her as he shushes her gently and murmurs “It’s alright, love. I’ve got you now.”

“As much as I love a good reunion- we need to get going, Ghost.” Price is ever the voice of reason, because Simon’s head is not in the game right now. 

He wants to cling to her and never let her go- he needs to pull his head out of his ass. 

Price isn’t wrong. As much as he has to fight off the impulse to tuck her against his side and keep her there, they have shit to do. 

He won’t truly be able to relax until she’s safely stowed on the helo and they’re on their way back.

It’s a bit easier once he puts the mask on. His brain is trained to focus on work and not let his personal life muddy the waters. Where Simon can’t help but falter, Ghost is dauntless. 

Simon can barely string a thought together now that he has her back in his arms. Simon still cannot believe she’s alive and breathing even after touching, smelling and hearing her. 

But Ghost can focus on getting her to the helo. 

Everything is a blur as Price and Gaz lead with Soap bringing up the rear. 

Ghost can’t quite decide where he wants her- keeps alternating between keeping her behind him in the event they get blindsided, that he’ll take any hits that go past Price or Gaz, or getting her in front of him so he can keep an eye on her, and there’s two SAS soldiers in front of her and two behind.

The hostiles in the building wanted the 141’s attention. Mission fucking accomplished.

The ones they chance across are dropped with ease. Simon is no stranger to returning to a location and making his point. Right now he’s got bigger concerns to be worried about. 

A knot of anxiety lodges itself on his ribcage as they move through the building that doesn’t unwind until he’s got her strapped to her seat in the helo. 

For the first time in days he can breathe. The knot slowly untangles as they ascend.

It finally settles in for both of them that she is out and she is safe. She’s been quiet the whole trek to the helo but Price, Soap, and Gaz have been on enough hostage recovery missions to not be caught off guard as she bursts into tears and buries her face in Ghost’s vest. 

It’s finally safe for her to do so, the adrenaline wearing off as she sobs. 

For the most part the other three men try to avert their eyes and not intrude.

Simon’s always been reserved about his life off base and watching him soothe his partner is bordering too personal for the others to witness.

It comes and goes in waves; Simon will settle her down, crooning quietly in her ear too low for the others to hear. She’ll stifle her tears for a bit as he soothes her. They go straight to medical after landing to have her looked at. She starts up again while waiting for the nurse to come back, trying to apologize to Simon through choked sobs. 

He won’t hear it, softly but firmly brushing her apologies to the side and assuring her everything’s fine now, love. No need to apologize.

He feels physically ill when the nurse delicately asks if she needs a rape kit or screenings done.

The rest of the 141 gives them a wide berth- which is a marked accomplishment because all too often Soap and Gaz are trailing behind him and finding some sort of shenanigans to get up to. Simon is perfectly content with the arrangement. He wants to focus his attention on her and that’s easier to do without the sergeants under foot.

His room on base is much like his entire apartment was before she moved in.

It’s 3am, Simon needs to take a piss and as he’s doing so, he’s not-quite eye level with a sign that says

“★★★★★ -

Would poop here again”

He’s got no idea when or where she found that, let alone put it up, but rolls his eyes good naturedly as he tucks himself away.

Normal people have bathroom decor.

Simon can appreciate a bit or a joke as much as the next person- but while this space is his it’s not something he’s ever felt the need to decorate. It’s a bed for him to crash on in between missions or if he’s too bloody exhausted to safely make the trek home.

There’s only one piece of any sort of personal touch to the room- a framed photo of her.

Simon intends to see her through the next few days- they’ll head home in the morning and realistically there’s only so long John can hold off on calling the boys in again. But the captain says he’ll do what he can to keep Simon home while they settle back in. He’s been due for some leave anyway.

He doesn’t sleep the first night. She swings drastically between being knocked out and jolting awake screaming and crying. Even once she’s gotten over the initial shock of her rescue it still takes time for her nervous system to calm down.

“I’ve got you, love- you’re safe here” he murmurs into her ear as she trembles like a leaf. “We’ll be home soon, yeah? You’ll feel better once you’re in our bed.”

The question is twofold- it is to soothe her, and also to gauge her reaction to the prospect of going home. Simon won’t hesitate to set the flat ablaze if it makes her feel better. 

Start fresh.

For now she seems to sleep better if he’s got her pinned up against the wall- the bulk of him a physical barrier to anything that might enter the room.

He’s always slept between her and the door so that’s no hardship- it just takes time to realize she feels safer trapped between him and the wall.

They make it through the first night in one piece, although the next morning she will not stop chewing on her nails. With someone else, he wouldn’t necessarily be surprised- but she’s never been a nail biter.

It dawns on him, as she sits on the couch and bursts into tears, that she wants the nails (or at least the ones that survived the ordeal) off, and is winding herself up too much to take them off the way she knows she should.

Simon goes to her office; he’s watched her enough that he knows the steps and the materials she’ll need, gathering them up before coaxing her to the table.

There’s no interest in redoing them but Simon manages to get the current sets off of her so she doesn’t damage her nail beds- assuming she stops chewing on them (which she does).

Over the next few days he lets her set the pace. She’s jumpy at home and calmer when he takes her out to run errands or just to stretch their legs. 

Maybe he will propose moving sooner rather than later. Their building is a shithole anyway.

He puts her in therapy after a week. It’s the only time he’s away from her. Realistically he knows it’s not good to have her so used to always being within arms length or eyesight of him- it’s not sustainable when eventually he will be called back in. But he has no qualms for the coddling he subjects her to while he’s able to. She’s quiet and comfortable with his hovering in a way she’d never tolerate before she was abducted- he figures he’ll know when she’s feeling a bit like herself again when she starts complaining about him not giving her any space.

Knowing she’s got the therapist gives him some security on how she’ll mentally cope when eventually he needs to leave again.

Her bursting into tears occurs less frequently. If Simon has to pry himself away from her to take a piss in the middle of the night she’s not up, back ramrod straight and waiting for him to come back with wet, teary eyes.

As the days tick on, bleeding into months later, Simon idly acknowledges that-short of when he’s on deployment- this is the longest they’ve gone without having sex. There’s nothing else that goes with that acknowledgement- he’s far more concerned with her well being than he is getting his kicks. He’s just taking stock of all their ‘normals’ and prior to her abduction they’d had quite the active sex life.

It’s one day as they’re watching a movie that it’s apparent Simon isn’t the only one aware of their dry spell.

They’re laying on the couch, her back pressed against his front with one of his heavy arms draped across her rib cage to keep her snuggled up against him as they watch the screen in front.

At first he thinks that she’s repositioning- thinks nothing of it and lifts his arm just enough to allow her the freedom to wiggle to a more comfortable spot. She keeps wiggling though and Simon is trying to keep his mind off the sensation of her arse grinding into his groin. Trying to ignore the way his dick twitches in interest, because- God help him- he's not dead and the love of his life is grinding her arse on him. Bodies are going to do what bodies do, and he can feel himself stiffening in response.

“Sweetheart, you need to sit still,” he whispers the plea into her ear. 

Her head tilts back towards him and lust jolts through his body at the look in her eyes while she still continues to grind against him.

“I miss you, Simon,” and given how he is rarely further than grabbing distance from her, there’s very few other ways to interpret what exactly it is that she is missing.

He’s a goner when she gives him that wide, doe eyed expression paired with the prettiest “Please?” he’s ever heard in his life.

One moment they’re quiet and content laying on their sides on the couch- the next Simon’s gripping her arm and pulling her on top of him as he settles onto his back. She follows his lead and moves so her weight is settled on his hips as his hands grip hers.

It is no hardship on his end to wait for her- the patience never truly even registered in his brain. She can have as much time as she needs and Simon will give it to her gladly.

But his pretty girl batting her eyes at him and pleading softly for him? His patience isn’t the only thing he’s willing to give her.

“Are you sure?” He doesn’t mean to second guess her or make her question herself but he does want to make sure that she’s not acting on obligation.

“Yes, Simon- Please,” and who is he to deny her?

His hands are on her immediately- pulling her towards him and encouraging her to grind, knowing her sweet clit will light up at the friction of her soft panties dragging across the rough material of his jeans.

His lips find hers, separating only briefly as he hauls her dress up and over her head, happily discarding the material in a heap on the floor.

His hands grip her hips, Simon relaxing into the couch while his fingers dug into the pillow soft skin perching above him. He’s straining against the fabric of his jeans- knows the tip of his erection is leaking clear pre and it’s not just going to be her being the reason the fabric has a wet spot.

The couch is certainly not the worst place to be, his beautiful girlfriend’s tits in his face as she grinds down in his lap with little hitching breaths.

“Just like that, pretty,” he encourages, kissing down her jawbone, the length of her neck and across her collar bone before happily mouthing at her breasts which are blessedly right in his face.

Simon groans in pleasure as he teases one nipple, her sweet mewls and the grip on his hair only spurring him on.

Grabbing a handful of her plush arse, he groans in anticipation while switching from one breast to the other.

It’s been a fair while since his back has been shredded by her nails and he can’t wait to feel the bite of them dragging down the length of his spine.

“Lift up, sweetheart,” he instructs, somewhat loath to release her plump bottom but eager to get her dripping for him.

She pulls up enough for him to slip one hand between her legs. Exploring fingers are quick to spread her wetness, dipping between her folds and dragging back up to circle her clit softly.

“Fuck- Simon!” she whines in his ear.

He knows enough by now what makes her tick. Once she’s all warmed up and ready to roll, that sweet cunt of hers could take a thrashing. But warming up involves feather-light touches to get her squirming and squealing for him.

“Feels good, pretty?” he asks despite knowing the answer in the way her arms wrap around his neck and she sags against him, hips twitching as she lets him tease her.

“Ye-yeah,” she murmurs, and presses her lips against his neck as he takes another pass- finger pulling away from her clit just to draw shivers from her as he traces back down her folds and presses ever so lightly against the entrance on her- just to the first knuckle- and making his way back to tease her clit.

Each pass has her rocking her hips more as he slips more of his finger inside, eventually adding a second that has her mewling and squirming in his lap.

He’s going to have one hell of a hickey from how she’s sucking on his neck, but Simon can’t bring himself to care. Not when his ears are graced with the delightful little noises she makes- whimpers of protest as he pulls his fingers out of her, the shaky inhales as he circles her clit and the trembling moan when he once again slides his fingers inside of her to give a few pointed strokes to her g-spot just to get her shivering and blinking up at him with lust-blown eyes.

“Fuck you’re wet,” there’s absolutely zero resistance now, even when he slides a third finger inside her. 

“Please,” she mewls into his skin, hips rocking in time with the thrust of his fingers into her.

“What do you want, sweetheart? Use your words.” He’s always found her an absolute delight to tease- she gets so flustered and stares at him with that doe eyed, betrayed look- how dare he make her ask for anything when it’s obvious what she wants.

“Please let me cum,” she pants as her eyes screw up in pleasure while his fingers trace and circle her clit for several passes.

“You wanna cum, love?” His tone is just a bit too soft to be a mocking tease despite the way she glares at him. Spoiled little thing so easily sliding back into her old habits.

“I’m going to bite you,” she grumbles in bemused annoyance, brows furrowing as she tries to follow his hand while teasing her.

He doesn’t doubt his little viper for a second, mollifying her displeasure with three fingers digging for that spot that makes her see stars.

“Oh~,” she mewls against him as he stokes the fires of her orgasm with a vengeance. He doesn’t stop, angling his hand so his thumb can stroke against her clit and enjoying the way she trembles against him like a leaf caught in a windstorm.

“That the spot, hm? Right there, innit?” He rumbles low in her ear, a satisfied smirk on his face as she nods in a big sweeping motion against his neck. “Come on, pretty. You wanna cum so badly? Do it.” he baits.

Mission accomplished.

Fuck he’ll remember the vision of her crying and cumming and trembling in his hold, soaking his forearm and abdomen as she squirts, for the rest of his days. His free hand runs soothingly down her back for a few passes before pulling both hands away from her.

She’s immediately whining against him, upset at having his touch taken away. “Simon, please-”

He shushes her with a kiss to her temple, “I know what you need, sweetheart,” he murmurs while deftly undoing his pants and freeing his cock.

It only takes a few strokes, already straining and ready to perform, before they’re shuffling as he pulls and maneuvers her so she’s hovering above him and Oh fuck has Simon missed this as she sinks down on him.

It always takes a couple attempts- he’s not a small man, and doesn’t want to risk injury. Not to mention there’s just something fucking delicious about only giving her a few inches, pulling back and feeding her just a few more. Slow, short, steady thrusts that get deeper bit by bit, having Simon ready to melt into the couch at the bliss of being buried in her by the time she sinks all of her weight onto him, her groin pressing against his.

She’s so fucking warm and wet, clinging to him as she shuffles to get good leverage on top of him to bounce.

Bloody fucking hell does she feel good. “That’s it, pretty. Take it all,” he encourages her while she whimpers above him- if he angles himself just right he can grind her clit against him in a way that has her sucking down air and shivering.

She’s so good for him but he knows there’s only so long she can bounce in his lap- even resting on one knee on the couch and her other foot on the floor so she can shift her weight and give leg a break every now and then, Simon throwing his head back and groaning loudly.

It’s one of the only times he’s particularly verbose- Usually content to be silent and broody unless he has a specific question in mind, the bedroom (or in this case the living room) is the one place where he is a chatterbox. The mouth on him is surreal at times, and while one would think his sweet girl would be use to the filth every now and then he’ll catch her off guard with some particularly out of pocket comment.

For now though, he’s a bit reserved- doesn’t want to go from zero to a hundred out of nowhere.

No, for now his attention is focused on the goddess bouncing on his cock, wondering if he can get her to squirt a second time if he just- he shifts underneath her, changing the angle and fucking hell does that seem to do the trick for her. Swiping one of his thumbs across his tongue before pressing it to her clit and circling again, Simon can’t help the smug look on his face when she squeals. “Just like that, sweetheart. Fuck,” he grunts as he thrusts up into her. From how those pretty thighs are trembling, her legs are about to give out as he fucks into her. 

“Simon!” She’s yelping his name with glassy eyes and a clenching cunt “Fuck- Simon! Please-”

She doesn’t have the energy to get herself back up again- poor thing, her thighs must be burning, and he can’t help but be a cocky fuck about the fact that she loves riding his dick to the point that she physically can’t keep going.

“On your back, sweetheart,” he instructs with a light swat to her ass- appreciating the way her body jiggles at the impact.

His sweet girl has done so well and worked so hard, it’s only right that he rewards her. Once she’s on her back he grips her under her knees and folds her legs back- gives himself room between those gorgeous thighs.

“Fuck, baby- please don’t stop,” she pants underneath him, back arching in pleasure as his mouth drops to her breasts again. Her arms wrap loosely around his neck, and he twitches in anticipation at the feel of her nails tracing ever so lightly against his back.

“Not gonna stop, pretty girl.” he groans against her skin, alternating between which nipple he has between his teeth.

Fuck she’s clenching down on him like a vice. He knows she’s getting close; squirming in his grip, keeping her legs nice and spread for him. The feel of her nails reaching down his back and dragging up his spine pulls a groan that would be embarrassing if Simon could find it within himself to care in the slightest. The slight pain encourages him as he cants against her.

“Simon!” The sound of his hips knocking into the back of her thighs is loud and messy. Fuck he’s such a goner when she looks up at him with that sweet expression on her face- pure adoration and wonder in her eyes.

“Just like that, sweetheart. Fucking hell, love,” he grunts out, a second wind reinvigorating him when she starts shaking. Those plush thighs shaking in his hold as he knocks the sense out of her pretty head, he’s so fucking close he can taste it but is determined to get her across the finish line first.

“Such a good fucking girl,” he purrs in her ear, “You feel fucking perfect taking my cock. This wet cunt’s all mine, innit?”

All she can do is chant “Yes! Yes! Yes!” over and over again- Simon’s not sure if even she is certain if she’s repeating the word to answer him, or if she’s just babbling because he’s making her feel good and she’s getting close.

“You gonna cum again love? Gonna soak me, hm?” He’s just running his mouth now- knows the shit she likes to hear, reaffirmed by the way she’s shivering in his hold and crying for it with a glassy eyed gaze.

Whatever she is going to respond with is cut off with a squeal. Simon rears back, enjoying the show as she makes a mess all over his cock with her eyes rolled back. He lets go of one of her legs in favor of teasing her clit just shy of overstimulation to prolong her orgasm- she lets him for a time before her hands abandon shredding his back in favor of wrapping around his wrist in a plea for mercy. 

“Simon it’s too much,” she laments with teary eyes as he pulls his hand away with a chuckle and a chaste kiss. 

He stays curled over her, hips driving into hers. “Tell me where you want it,” he instructs.

“Inside! Please, I want it inside!” Her answer is sharp and immediate, the leg not pinned to her chest wrapping around his waist like she is daring him to even try to pull out.

And fuck there is something cathartic about his orgasm when it hits. Burying his face in her soft body while his hips snapped into hers a few times, Simon groans as his vision damn near whites out for a second.

Simon knows better than most that there’s good days and bad days- and a presumed good day can become a bad day quicker than one can blink. But overall he feels like consistently she’s doing better all around. They take their time calming down, Simon showering her in attention and getting a feel for where her head is at. Praising her for how well she did and making sure she feels stable.

He lets out a breath, feeling confident that she’s settled, having a good day, and everything is fine for now. 

And it is. Until about two hours later.

One moment they’re finishing the movie they’d initially started before the impromptu romp on the couch, and then Simon has a 3 second warning of her sniffling as she obviously tries to fight back the tears and then she’s sobbing harder than she has in weeks.

Simon goes from content to concerned in a second, his blood turning to ice in his veins. His immediate assumption is that their prior activities finally caught up with her mentally and now that she’s had time to think it over it wasn’t good. It was too fucking soon to have sex. He should have told her no, should have been gentler, should have-

“Sweetheart? Talk to me,” his voice is tinged with a thinly controlled concern (not panic he convinces himself) and while he means to comfort her, she can hear his tone and that just sets her off anew.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” she blubbers, turning to face him. “I don’t know why I’m crying!”

That settles Simon’s nerves somewhat, stroking her back and pulling her close to comfort her. “It’s okay, sweetheart.” he soothes her, listening to her sniffle against his shirt after shoving her into the crook of his neck.

“I just want to feel normal again,” she sobs into his collar.

“You will, love,” he assures her- never mind that ‘normal’ is something that even he struggles with on a near daily basis. “It’ll take time but you’ll get there. I promise.”

He’s a bastard for making a promise to her that he can’t guarantee to keep. There’s a part of him that knows that- hell, he’s been working on his shit for years and he still doesn’t feel normal most days.

But while he can’t promise that she’ll ever get back to feeling exactly the same as she did before all of this happened, he can promise that he’ll be by her side and ensure she’s adjusting. It will take time, and work, but Simon will make sure she gets there one step at a time.

[pinktrashgoblin]

SERIOUS POST.

This may have some uncomfortable topics. But please read this whole thing. It’s important to be transparent, and I don’t want Cin to spread more shit.

my deepest apologies to people who are just here on my blog and reblogging my work for fun.

EDIT: I can’t believe I have to say this but don’t fucking harass anyone mentioned in this post. That just reflects on YOU.

Alright, Cin. Since you want a response so bad, here ya go.

So what is this whole thing about?

User @/cintagonisupset is going around telling people this.

I’m already seeing the impacts, having my friends come to me about this. You’ve got my hands tied, so I’m making my statement.

First and foremost: I‘m not going to pretend that I didn’t make dirty jokes in my server in the past, before my birthday when I was 17, a minor myself, and before I banned such jokes last year. With 100% earnest I know this was a bad idea, and I have taken the time to be more careful about what I say around certain audiences. I am not perfect. But in his haste to fuck me up, he left out some crucial details.

1: I was 17 at the time, a minor myself, and was and still am in high school. I was a high schooler, making high-school-tier jokes in a server of other high schoolers. I am not ACTIVELY MAKING THESE JOKES like he says I am, and I do not condone the idea of doing so.

2: I am autistic. I struggle with social cues, with decision-making and so forth. I am only recently 18, but that does not mean I am mentally or emotionally mature, far from it. Mentally I am still a child. I struggle more than the average person with judgement, and often slip up around those I let my guard down around. I am working on this to avoid things such as this.

3: I am incredibly susceptible to peer pressure. In a place where those jokes were made, I wanted to feel like part of the group. So, as I often do, I mirrored behavior to feel like I fit in. I wasn’t sitting my high-school ass down and going “Let’s make raunchy jokes with kids!”, I was thinking in terms of “Maybe if I talk like them, they’ll like me and I’ll fit in somewhere” without fully realizing what everything meant, and without being able to properly process the social queues associated.

4: This was MONTHS ago. I do not actively do these things, nor condone them, I think it’s fucked up and I’ve done everything I can to be better than that. But to misrepresent the situation as me actively doing so isn’t great either.

So with that out of the way.

Do I think it was a good idea? No, absolutely not, but let’s not pretend that this is unheard of in high school and definitely on the internet. Since the dawn of time kids have made stupid jokes with one another. I was a middle schooler once and a high schooler now, I know exactly what goes on in those places. Let me restate: that doesn’t make it good, but let’s not pretend I’m the only high school kid who’s ever made a joke like that around their peers.

My point is, once this thing has become so normalized all over the place, in school, in media, it becomes difficult, especially for a neurodivergent such as myself, to deduce what to and not to do. I have fundamental principles and rules, but that does not mean I am not susceptible to being pressured into this sort of thing.

As I mentioned: I am not emotionally, or mentally, mature. I don’t know everything. I don’t fully comprehend the nuances of things. I am not always aware of what I am saying. I cannot understand social queues in the same way you do.

Make your conclusions as you will, but this is my stance, and this is the truth.

Also, maybe don’t tell people to kill themselves and that nobody likes them? Just a thought. (BTW: As mentioned I am autistic, it’s not as simple as “grow up”.)

TL;DR: I made raunchy/dirty jokes in my server when I was 17, in high school, with a bunch of other high schoolers, and Cin is telling me to end my life because of it.

Please consider my words. I have worked hard to build what I have, and feel it is important to be transparent. I want nothing but to make a positive impact on this community and the people within it. This does not mean I am perfect, but I am trying my best and my intentions are good.

Feel free to ask me, or leave opinions in the reblogs and replies. This is a conversation, not a preaching.

Also, about the art thief thing: I genuinely have no fuckin clue what he’s going on about there.

Edit: I have deleted the “P.S.” section regarding a suspicion I have to avoid further conflict.

[canarysage]

…make a psd?

this is a question i get pretty routinely, and i’m going to tell you upfront: there is no one way to make a psd. there’s no ‘better’ way, no ‘easier’ method, you just have to figure it out yourself.

with that said, this post is going to be how i, personally, make my psds, just for the sake of reference. my way isn’t better or worse than anyone else’s—it’s just the way i do things ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

i. making a showcase/moodboard

depending on the psd you want to achieve, your moodboard will probably look different—if you’re making a blue psd it will be mostly blue, if you’re making a psd based on a certain character or card set it will be based around that, etc. i made myself a general showcase that i test my psds on that includes both irl images and darker skin characters, because i like for my psds to work for those purposes most of the time. my showcase is below if you’d like to use it!

it’s best to include sources you edit frequently so you know what works on them and what doesn’t but how the moodboard looks exactly is up to you ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ i also recommend using swatchies (original by zeroresources on d*viantart) as long as you bear in mind that swatchies is not a great guideline for actual dark skin

ii. creating the base

actual step two is creating a folder but that takes like two seconds. do make a folder though or you will be sad.

after making a folder, start making the base of your psd; whatever the foundation is going to be. depending on how you want your psd to look, this will look very different. i personally always start off with a gradient map, just to get things going

my settings for this are the default black and white gradient map set to reverse, and it’s set to blending mode soft light at 35% opacity. i typically do something in the range of 20-45% opacity depending on how i want it to look

i’m honestly not sure where i picked up this habit but it does make it a little easier to get things going for me personally. it’s a simple change but it’s a good start. if you want higher contrast you can do the same thing but without reversing the gradient map

next thing i do when creating a base is add a selective color layer, which helps things pick up the pace. i’m too lazy to write it all down but these are my settings:

worlds ugliest collage so i don’t max out my images LMFAO apologies. obviously depending on what colors you want to focus on this will look different. for this one i completely axed magenta and emphasized blue and red/yellow. i also maxed out the black in white, which is extremely typical in my psds. this is what our psd looks like now:

pretty different already, right? nice!

next thing i typically do is another selective color layer. it’s typically pretty similar to the first, but once again that depends on the psd! the worlds worst collage again:

pretty much the same but a little different. and our results:

as you can see, this is pretty saturated and a little all over the place. not to worry—let’s move onto the next step!

iii. let’s get serious

this step varies a lot depending on what my psd needs, but because this one is pretty sayurated right now and that seems to be my main problem, i’m going to add a photo filter in a light grayish-blue to help desaturate and cool it down

(i unchecked preserve luminosity here because i think it looks neat. i don’t recommend doing that if you’re using a darker color bc it gets hard to see, but you can do whatever forever)

obviously this isn’t the only way to desaturate but i find it fun. observe:

definitely better, at least to me, but still not great. we’re going to add another selective color layer bc the skintones look kinda wack. welcome back world’s worst collage:

i only adjusted some of the colors in this one because i wanted to fix specific problems; namely that the darker skin tones were too dark and ashy.

mission accomplished

with that done, it’s time for hue/saturation! for funsies ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ this part i just had some fun with. a new collage:

and the results:

purple! this wasn’t what i originally had in mind but it was much more fun to do tbh LMAO i decided to turn the cyan/blue into purple because it looked better in my head

iv. okay now get silly again

now that the main meat—so to speak—of our psd is done, we can add some fun layers. if you want ideas for this, i have a post about it, but what i’m gonna add as my first silly layer is channel mixer, which is one of my personal favorite layers

pretty simple adjustments for channel mixer honestly ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ but i thought this would look fun. as a general rule of thumb i don’t mess with the red channel so much because it tends to screw over my skintones, but, as with anything, you’re free to do whatever forever

next fun layer i’m gonna add is a noise gradient map, also just for funsies

i randomized until i got a nice pink-ish kinda one. i was hoping for blue but all the blue ones were too green and i got impatient LOL

a little fucked but for sure fun. i set the gradient map to soft light at about 15% opacity. it gave the psd a fun texture and a bit of extra warmth

v. finishing touches

sometimes i add a couple more layers, sometimes i add less, but this psd feels about done so imma wrap it up. i typically don’t save my psds as the showcase for my storage’s sake, so i’m gonna grab something to use as an icon. i typically go ahead and size it at about 300x300

hello, haruka! once i have my icon set i duplicate the folder into the new project and name both the project and the folder. how you name it is up to you, i usually either use a random word generator or just whatever comes to mind. in this case, i’m just naming it ‘tutorial psd’ lol

then go to file and save as psd, bada bing bada boom you’ve got a psd ☆〜（ゝ。∂）

as i said at the beginning, there’s no one way to make a psd. this isn’t the only process or even the best one, it’s just how i personally work. the best way to make a psd on your own is fuck around and find out <3 canarysage out

…so that’s how you do it.

P.S. the psd i made here will be posted under the tag #tutorial psd. you’re free to poke around in it and use it as per usual. if you want to copy it, feel free, but don’t claim it’s your own or repost it as your work. thanks!

P.P.S. wondering about adjustment layers? see photopea for dummies. wondering about something i haven’t covered yet? shoot me an ask ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

[jaegeraether]

Sunsets and footballers (Part 36)

Lucy Bronze x Reader (34)

Masterlist (other parts here)

YFN enjoyed her morning and flight back, still trying to comprehend what was happening. She’d wished she had time to go through Edinburgh itself but had been swamped all morning with emails relating to the expansion of staff. Lumos management were also a lot more vocal with her now that they’d all met and decided she should be directly involved with their meetings and decisions.

Once she’d landed, she’d Ubered to her and Jordan’s house to pick up Miles and give Blu a pat before she drove to the conference room in town. She’d arrived just after midday and was delightfully pleased to see the entire team was already there with canapes just working and bantering away. She greeted them all as she entered and as she walked to her seat, she realised there were a large bunch of flowers sitting in her space. She was a little confused. Was this from Catherine? From the team for the first round? From the hotel the conference room was in? She looked around for an explanation and only received a few grins in response. She gently touched one of her flowers and leant in to smell them before taking the card out of the top.

Hi little one,

Well done on your first round of women’s football!

I’m so proud of you, always, in everything that you do.

I can’t wait to see you soon in Spain.

I love you.

Lucy x

She blushed as her heart fluttered, again finding a few of those grins, yet now they were teasing. She didn’t mind being teased for it. She was proud of her relationship with Lucy. She moved the flowers more central in the table and took her seat, setting up her laptop and notes before sending a quick photo and text to Lucy.

She knew they had a lot to cover and made sure to text Jordan, asking for a heads up when she was headed home. She wanted to be there for her. She put her phone on the table and they began. They spoke about the first round, each team member talking about their experiences and ideas. They spoke about the interviews, the posts, the equipment, all of it. When they were done, YFN made sure they were all comfortable and confident with their roles and then dropped the bombshell. They were expanding. Already. She told them how happy and ambitious management were. They’d expanded from ten including YFN to fifty. This was a shock to everyone of course, however YFN managed to ease them.

“Fifty?!” Ruby almost yelled. “How much money does this company have?!”

“The company has a lot of faith in us…and they were very impressed with the first round.”

“But that’s mainly because your interviews were amazing…” Ethan countered.

“No, we all did amazing work.” Bridget disagreed.

“Fifty sounds like a lot, but it really isn’t,” she assured. “We have six games a week. Fifty is our new number so that we can have three videographers, three photographers, one editor and one interviewer per game. That’s forty-eight people. The extras will be Noel for IT as our posting and editing becomes even more sizeable, and myself.”

They thought this was definitely a lot more reasonable when it was put like that.

“Management are throwing money into us to not only expedite the process of growth, but to make sure we’re training and preparing for the international fixtures as well,” she explained. “We won’t just be doing WSL the entire time. Plus, there are the other leagues in Europe, and the other minor leagues in the UK.”

“But the training…” Emily almost whispered.

YFN nodded, running a hand through her hair a little stressed. “Oh, trust me, I know. We need to be fully prepped and confident for our games so we make the mistakes in practise rather than onsite.”

“Prior planning prevents piss poor performance.” Sam quoted.

“Exactly and I have a plan for that. Now we’re all new here but we’ve all been in the field, we’ve researched and prepped and decided on how to best create a product that suits our brand image. It’s because of this that my plan is to have you all in supervisory roles for the new team coming in. The new hires will arrive next Tuesday which gives us time to prep with them prior to our third round. I’ll put you into game groups and you can work together to prep during the week, with this group supervising each game group and taking a bit more responsibility. Teach them what you’ve learnt. Next week is going to be a long week, but we can do it. I’ll expect progress reports also as I can’t monitor fifty people. If someone is excelling, or not quite up to scratch, I expect to be told so we can sort it out prior to our game. Also…” she looked around the conference room. “…we’ve just acquired an office space in London. I understand that not everyone will live there, and I just want to state that when we’re up and running more comfortably, the people who live further away will be able to zoom our meetings instead if they choose. In the meantime, we’ll continue with our face to face meetings, though don’t neglect yourselves. If it becomes too hard to travel; let me know. We’re going to have enough people to cover each other, it’s okay.”

The rest of the meeting was fairly better as YFN had decided they would only start to worry about the new hires later on. Right now, it was about prepping for the next games.

Their schedule set out for the upcoming week was as such:

Man United vs West Ham (Leigh Sports Village, Manchester): 12th Nov 1200 – YFN and Ruby.

Spurs vs Liverpool (Brisbane Road, London): 12th Nov 1230 – Sam and Olivia.

Everton vs Chelsea (Walton Hall Park, Liverpool): 12th Nov 1300 – Ethan and Daniel.

Man City vs Brighton (Joie Stadium, Manchester): 12th Nov 1300 – Bridget and Emily.

Bristol vs Aston Villa (Ashton Gate Stadium, Bristol): 12th Nov 1400 – Matt and Noel.

Leicester vs Arsenal (King Power Stadium, Leicester): 12th Nov 1845 – YFN and Ruby (relocate from United vs West Ham); Matt (relocate from Bristol vs Aston Villa in Bristol est arrival: 1900).

The scheduling was tight because all of the games were on the same day, and she needed to be carefully logistically to make sure she didn’t have people driving out of their way unnecessarily. Luckily, Matt lived in Birmingham and would be able to get to the Leicester vs Arsenal game for YFN to get some good interviews of the players, one she was hoping would be Kyra and Courtney.

Before she knew it, the clock had ticked over to 5pm and Jordan had messaged.

Dory: Training just finished. I’ll be home in 20.

YFN: I’m coming. I’ll get take-away for us. What would you like, Dory?

Dory: Anything I’m not supposed to eat.

YFN: You’re amazing. See you at home soon, roomie x

YFN walked through the front door, pizza in one hand and flowers tucked under the other arm, her work bag slung over her shoulder. Regardless of this, Jordan was on her from the moment she opened the door, wrapping arms around YFN’s waist. After a cute little hug, YFN spoke when she felt Jordan getting emotional.

“Okay, firstly, I love you. Secondly, we’re eating before we talk. We need to get this comfort food into you before it goes cold.”

They settled onto the couch and devoured the pizza quickly, having to snatch it away from Blu at times. Then, Jordan spoke.

“I’m so embarrassed.”

“Why? For having sex with someone you love? Someone who knows you and loves you too?”

“I guess it does sound better when you say it like that…”

“What happened? Tell me everything.”

Jordan sighed. “We dropped you off and came back home. We didn’t speak much in the car. She put her hand on my thigh, but I think it was more of a reassurance thing than a sexual thing. Then we spoke when we got home. I did exactly what you said, I sat far away so I wouldn’t be tempted by anything. She said the nicest things, YFN.” Jordan began to cry. “How much she loved me and missed me and how badly she’d screwed up. I couldn’t help myself, I cried and I couldn’t stop. I tried to hold it together. She comforted me and…” She put her hand on the back of the couch, presumably where they’d been sitting.

“Did you have sex right here?”

Jordan’s tears paused as she gave a cheeky, embarrassed smile.

“Ooookay I’m going to pretend I didn’t ask.” She reached out and brushed some of Jordan’s tears away. “Was it…bad?”

“No,” she admitted. “No, it was incredible. Probably the best sex I’ve had in my life. It was so desperate and passionate. I don’t know what happened, I missed her touch, I just melted.”

“Ah…and you cried after it?”

“No, I cried during it. It felt so good and to have her back so close to me. I missed her so much, YFN. I think after we’d been…doing it a while…the lust faded a little, and I just got scared. Scared that she made me feel so happy, made me feel so loved and then I got scared she’d leave again. I panicked and cried. She didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know what to do. I told her to go.”

“She tried to stay?”

“Yeah of course but I was just a mess, I needed to be alone.”

YFN hesitated. “You pushed her away before she could leave you…”

“Is that what I did?” She whispered.

“Oh Dory, come here.” YFN pulled Jordan into her lap and wrapped her arms around her, stroking her supportively. YFN and Jordan were both very, very affectionate people, especially physically.

“I don’t know if I can trust her again. I th…thought I c…could.” Her crying increased and she clung to the front of YFN’s shirt.

“Did you tell her why you wanted her to go?”

“That’s the worst part…she begged me to stay. She was on her knees at one point. On her ACL torn knee…but I couldn’t look at her. I wanted her to go. I knew she had a long drive back to London. I knew it was late. I still kicked her out.” She shook her head. “She begged me all the way out of the door to explain what was happening. I just remember telling her, “I can’t handle you leaving me again.””

YFN’s stomach dropped for Leah. She finally got close to Jordan again. Close enough for sex. For intimacy. She must have been so happy…and in a split second it was all taken away from her because of that insecurity she’d planted in Jordan with her previous mistake.

“It’s okay…it’s okay. Leah will understand, trust me. Has she messaged you?”

Jordan nodded into her. “She’s sent me multiple messages since.”

“And have your feelings changed?”

“That fear of her leaving? It’s not going away anytime soon.”

“I think she needs to win your trust back. You two made a mistake by diving into sex.”

“I know,” she whispered quietly. “I couldn’t help myself.”

“You need to let her know that if she wants you, she needs to build that trust back. She needs to know that it may take a long time but it’ll be worth it because she’ll get to have you back.”

Jordan nodded. “You’re right…”

“If I’ve learnt anything over the past few days it’s that communication is key…”

“I just need a little space.”

“Okay…look, I’ll be at the Arsenal game on Sunday in Leicester. I’ll talk to her if you want? Explain a little…”

“I think that’s for the best.”

“Okay, I think you should message her asking for your space for the moment.”

“Can you do it?”

“I think this one is best coming from you, Jords.”

 She sighed but took her phone out and texted Leah without reading the messages the other woman had sent her.

“You won’t be at the Aston Villa game this week?”

YFN shook her head. “No, I’ll be covering Untied vs West Ham and then Leicester vs Arsenal.”

“But aren’t you going to Spain?”

She ran a hand through her hair. “Yeah…I was planning on going Friday. Lucy has a game Saturday and then I’d fly back for the Sunday games.”

“You’re not staying for long, then? Lucy’s going to be upset.”

“I know,” she sighed. “I know, I planned on doing zoom for my meetings next week, but we’ve just expanded our employees by five hundred percent.”

“What the-”

“Oh, please don’t ask anything. I’m stressed and besides, tonight is all you, Jords. I think a phone call with Lucy and then with Katie and Caitlin may be just what you need, hm?”

Jordan agreed. “Yes, please! I’ll get rid of this rubbish and get us drinks while you message them.”

YFN opened her phone, hovering her finger above Lucy’s message before she remembered their phone call from last night. She bit her lip as she opened Instagram. Sure enough, the first posts were of Lucy boxing and YFN could feel her skin getting hot, and she squirmed as she also felt herself getting wet for her. God damn. Lucy. Those biceps. Lucy. That determined look. Lucy. She groaned.

“You okay?” Jordan asked from the kitchen.

“Yeah!” She called back and liked the post. She considered commenting and decided against that. She was worried how forward she would be in front of Lucy’s 750k followers.

YFN: Hey Luce, are you free for a call with Dory?

Lucy: Hi, little one. I’ve been waiting for your text. I smile when your name pops up on my phone. Yes, I’m free whenever you want me.

YFN: I always want you. And you’re always busy.

Lucy: Lies.

Jordan passed her a drink over the couch and she took a sip.

Lucy: Come to Spain and fuck the busy out of me.

She choked on her drink. Jordan gave her a look before she rolled her eyes as she made her own drink.

YFN: Behave. I’m barely hanging on with your Instagram posts.

Lucy: I hoped you’d like them…can we have a late-night call tonight when you’re free?

YFN: Yes, please.

It’s crazy how naturally they fell into teasing each other. She sent another message to the messenger with Katie, Caitlin and Jordan.

YFN: Hi! Are you all free for a group call with Dory and I in the next hour or so?

Caitlin: KEEN.

Katie: Only if we see your faces.

YFN: Done. I’ll message you soon!

Jordan joined her on the couch then and she called Lucy, giving Jordan the phone. Obviously, Jordan had Lucy’s number, but this was more convenient. She watched as the two old friends spoke, Lucy not failing to make Jordan grin and laugh. Of course she could. At one point they were even speaking about her, and YFN rolled her eyes, working a little on her laptop while they had their talk.

Their talk ended after about forty minutes, Jordan hanging up before YFN could talk to Lucy. She frowned. Lucy immediately texted.

Lucy: Call me in bed?

YFN: Okay, I’ll be about an hour, love. Thank you for that, she really needed it. You managed to cheer her up a lot.

Lucy: I know her too well. You’re welcome, though. Talk soon. x

YFN messaged the girls back then telling them to call whenever they were free. Apparently, that was immediately. Jordan and YFN on one end, Katie and Caitlin on the other. It was a hilarious conversation after Jordan had been honest about what happened with Leah to them. They’d given her support and told her to take her time which reassured her a little bit more. Katie had changed the mood of the conversation after that by introducing Coopurr by holding the cat up to the camera. Jordan responded in kind with Blu, of course. Then Caitlin surprised her fellow Australian with a question.

“Hey chicken, do you know what’s happening with Kyra? She’s been a bit off and we figured you might know…”

YFN hesitated. She didn’t want to keep anything from them, but knew it wasn’t her place. “Uh…yeah…it’s not really my place to say though…”

Katie turned to Caitlin. “I told you.”

“You were right,” Caitlin rasped. “It’s about Courtney then.”

They watched as YFN practically glued her mouth shut. Of course they knew. Courtney was a Matilda. Caitlin was a Matilda.

“Is that why you’re coming to our game now?”

“Oh, that's right! You two were so obvious when Kyra asked what game you were going to.”

“Mmnhmn. Yeah, look, all I can say is that I plan on interviewing them together. We’re going to start interviewing players in groups more, and also interviewing opposition together. So this weekend I’ll do a young interview with those two if I can catch Courtney, and then I’ll do an-”

“An old person interview? Rude.” Caitlin laughed.

YFN rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, we’re happy to do an interview with you, but I assume you want someone you haven’t talked to yet?”

“Yeah, you know, I was thinking Kim or…” She stopped herself as she looked at Jordan.

Jordan frowned. Leah. There was a moment of silence.

“That’s okay, you know.” Jordan reassured. YFN gave a grateful smile.

“…or Jen Beattie?”

“Are you in those little sleeping shorts of yours?” Lucy asked.

“Yes,” she almost whispered.

Lucy hummed. “Good. Take them off.”

YFN did as she was told, wriggling them off and turning back to her phone propped up against Lucy’s pillow.

“Shirt too.”

She pulled her shirt off, now fully bare beneath the sheets besides her socks. Lucy knew she loved her socks, though.

“I wish you could understand how much I want you right now.” She said a little exasperated.

“Tell me…” She whispered, looking at Lucy through the camera. She allowed herself to begin playing with one of her nipples and Lucy noticed, groaning.

“If you could feel between my thighs, you’d know just how much I miss you.”

“I can’t stop thinking about you…I can’t seem to get you out of my mind.”

“Good.” She said almost harshly. “That’s where I belong. Inside your mind. Inside you. Now I need you to touch yourself. I need your hands to do what I wish mine were right now.”

“Guide me where you want me, Luce.”

“Put your free hand around your throat. Good girl. Squeeze a little. Argh…yes. You like that, hm? Two days and that’ll be my hand.”

“God I need you, Luce.”

“I have no idea how I didn’t fuck you silly the other night.”

“Because you love me,” she whispered, her hand moving down over her body and under the sheets. She knew Lucy would enjoy that visual.

“Did I tell you to do that?”

YFN paused. “No…”

“Hm.”

“Can I…?” She trailed off as she saw Lucy’s darkened eyes through the screen.

“Use your words, love.”

“Can I touch myself?”

“Yes, but don’t go inside. Not yet.”

She felt through the wetness of her body, not realising just how ready she was. She was tempted to slip a finger in, but Lucy told her she couldn’t just yet, and so she didn’t. Her fingers found her little bundle of nerves and began to play.

“That’s my girl,” Lucy groaned. “T…that’s my girl. Feel that.”

Lucy stuttering a little was proof to her that she was also touching herself. Her eyes rolled back at the thought and her body was twitching and getting tingly at the stimulation of her clit. They worked themselves up like that for a while, both moaning and shakily breathing. Hearing Lucy losing control was one of her favourite things. She just wished she were right there, rather than across a phone.

“Luce, c…can I go inside?”

“Tell me who you belong to.”

She bit her lip and her back arched at the question, her fingers speeding up. She whimpered. “You, Luce. I belong to you.”

“Yes, you do. Don’t you ever fucking forget that. Two fingers inside, now.”

YFN eagerly thrust two fingers inside herself, her body jerking and her legs automatically widening.

“I want to hear you.”

YFN released one of her nipples to drag the phone down and place it on her left thigh. She could hear Lucy groaning from the other end. She threw the sheet off so she could hear her better.

“God, you have no idea what you do to me,” she repeated. “I’m so lucky to have you.”

“I’m yours, Luce. And I…I’m the l…lucky one.” She had no idea how she managed to get the sentence out. She was so wound up, her body arched into her hand, hips automatically thrusting against her fingers.

“I want you to come like this, fucking yourself. Don't move the phone, I want to hear it.”

YFN did as she was told, and sped up her assault, her body becoming a shaky, uncontrolled mess. It didn’t take long for her to get right to that edge, and she could hear Lucy getting closer. Lucy wasn’t very vocal, that was something they were still working on, however her moaning and panting betrayed her. She was close. She just needed to be tipped over the edge. So YFN gave her that.

“Arghh…Luce…Lucy…can I come?”

She knew asking permission would be Lucy’s last straw.

“Y…yes,” she gasped. “Come.”

YFN sped up her efforts once more as her body unfolded and that electric shock of ecstasy shocked her body into a tense spasm. She heard Lucy whimpering on the other end of the phone and that just made it last longer.

She let herself come down and reached for a tissue near the bed to wipe herself clean. She took the phone and put it back up near her face as she rolled to the side and looked at her girlfriend. Lucy pushed the glasses up her nose, giving a satiated grin. She couldn’t help but return her own.

“This is becoming a regular thing for us.” YFN said.

“I need this just to be able to think during the day about something other than fucking you.”

“Ah, but I thought you liked thinking about me.”

Lucy laughed incredulously. “Yes, but I also have a profession I should be thinking about. Mapi managed to kick a ball into me today while I was zoned out thinking about how good you look under me.”

The visual was hilarious. “You’re insatiable.”

“It’s never been a problem until you. I feel like I’m losing a battle of urges.”

“Keep talking, please, you’re making me feel very loved right now.”

Lucy laughed and YFN continued. “But if it’s any consolation, I also can’t stop thinking about you. The one time I managed to not, was when I was walking into my meeting but then I saw your flowers…”

Lucy grinned. “You liked them? I thought it’d be romantic.”

“Oh, it was. And just so you know, your surprise will be there tomorrow also.”

Lucy’s eyes widened with excitement. “You sent me something?!”

“Last night. I just wanted you to know that I sent it BEFORE I received your flowers.”

“Who’s the romantic one, now?”

“You, always you. I may be a romantic, but I’ll never have anything on you, Luce.”

[winchesterwild78]

Austin part 3

Austin Master List

Chapter Warnings: Language, cheating, angst, Fluff, feels, Smut 😘

A/N: Reader is new to the Austin area with her husband and teenage son. When a car accident brings her face to face with Jensen Ackles. Absolutely no disrespect to Jensen or his family. This is a work of fiction and does not represent reality. This chapter is a little long, but I needed to set up the story. I edited this fast so please overlook any mistakes.

All work is my own, don’t take it

18+ Minors DNI

*********************************************

The rest of the night was pretty quiet. Jacob offered to cook dinner which you happily agreed to. As he was cooking you sent Jensen a text.

You: Hey Jensen are you busy?

Jensen: Nope. What’s up?

You: You wanted me to call you but I didn’t want to call unannounced so I figured I’d see if you were available.

Jensen: Yes. I’m not doing anything. You can call whenever you want. Or better yet…

Your phone rang and it was Jensen. You smiled and answered. “Hey.” “Hello beautiful. How is Jacob doing? How did the talk go?” He asked. You smiled when he called you beautiful. It made you blush a little too. “It went really good. He’s glad I kicked him out. He’s pissed at his dad which is understandable. Jacob is an amazing young man. I’m so glad I have him. (Pause) And you.” You said hesitantly. “He seems like a great kid. I’m glad you have him and me too. I’m glad I have you too, Y/N.” Jensen said. Your breath hitched. “Hey, Y/N. You okay?” Jensen questioned. “Yeah I’m okay. I guess I’m just still trying to process the past few days. It’s been a roller coaster of emotions.” You said. “I understand. It’s really quiet here and it’s hard” Jensen said.

“I’m so sorry Jensen. I know you’re used to the house being filled with the sounds of your kids. Are they coming home to you or are they going with Danneel?” You asked. “Right now they are coming home. They are just staying with Jared for the weekend so D can move out and I can figure out what to do next.” He said.

“Do you need some company? We could hang out and talk or watch movies or whatever you want” you asked him. “That actually sounds great. Want to come here or do you want me to come over there” Jensen asked. “I can come over there if you want me to. Jacob is cooking dinner so it will be after dinner. Is that still okay? It’s not too late is it?” You laughed. “No, it’s perfect. I’m about to cook something myself. I’ll text you my address. Just let me know when you’re on your way so I can make sure to open the gate.” Jensen said. “And, Y/N, thank you. I appreciate you coming over.” He said. You smiled and said “you’re welcome Jensen. I’ll see you soon.”

You hung up and Jacob said dinner was ready. The two of you sat at the table eating. “Mom, I am so sorry dad did that to you. You deserve so much better than that. I was going to go out tonight with Becca but I can stay home if you want.” Jacob said. “No honey. You go out with your friends. Wait, who’s Becca?” You smiled. Jacob blushed. “She’s one of the friends I went to the lake with. She’s really sweet and asked me out.” “Oh Jacob, that’s great. Go out with her tonight. I’ll be fine. I’m actually going to go out myself. Jensen and I are going to hang out and talk. His wife just left him so we are kinda like kindred spirits right now.” You told him. Jacob smiled and nodded.

Once dinner was done you washed the dishes and sent Jensen a text.

You: I’m leaving my house. I’ll be there shortly if it’s still okay.

Jensen: I can’t wait. See you soon.

You smiled, grabbed your keys and purse and headed out the door. On the way to Jensen’s you decided to stop and pick up something. Your mother had raised you to not show up to someone’s house empty handed. You knew exactly what you were going to pick up. You parked your car and got out. You pushed open the door to the store and were greeted with a sweet hello and smile. “Hey honey. It’s good to see you again.” She said. “Hey Ms Betty. How are you today” you smiled. “I’m good. How’s that boy of yours?” She asked. You smiled because you couldn’t believe she remembered. “He’s doing pretty good. He’s actually on a date with a young lady named Becca.” “Oh sweet Becca Lynn. She’s a good girl. Very sweet and very pretty.” Ms Betty said.

“Well, what can I get for you honey” she asked. “Can I get a 2 pints of the chocolate brownie. Jensen recommended it and I really wanted to try it.” You said. She smiled softly and her eyes seemed a little sad. “How’s he doing honey? I heard what happened with him and D. I can’t believe she cheated on him with his good friend. Then she left him and those kids.” Ms Betty said as she started to scoop the ice cream. “Yeah, he’s doing as well as he can. I’m actually taking him a pint of the ice cream as a surprise.” You told her. Ms Betty smiled and nodded. She handed you the pints and you went to pay for them and she said “Just be good to our boy. Treat him right and be there for him. He’s one of the good ones.” She said shooing your money away. “Ms Betty, I promise you I will do whatever I can to help heal his heart and be there for him. He’s an amazing man and a great friend.” You smiled at her still trying to pay for the ice cream. She smiled and said “broken hearts need unconditional love and ice cream. It’s on the house honey.”

“Thank you Ms Betty. I appreciate it.” You smiled. “Give Jensen my love, and Y/N, love him like he deserves and he will be yours forever.” She smiled and winked. You smiled, nodded and left. You couldn’t get what she said out of your head. She’s older and you know how older ladies like to play matchmaker, but was she seeing something you didn’t. Jensen is sweet, but his marriage just fell apart and so did yours. There is no way he has feelings for you.

You got in your car and drove to Jensen’s. When you pulled in the driveway you saw this beautiful home in front of you. Then you saw Jensen. Leaning against the doorway, long legs crossed at the ankles. He was wearing a t-shirt and jeans without shoes. Your breath hitched and you couldn’t take your eyes off him. You bit your bottom lip and tried to shake away the thoughts creeping in your mind. It didn’t work. This man was sex on two legs and you wouldn’t say no.

Jensen pushed off the doorframe and walked down the stairs towards your car. He opened the door and when you got out he pulled you into a hug. “Thanks for coming” he said as he kissed the top of your head. You melted into his arms. You pulled back and smiled “thanks for inviting me. I brought you something.” You held up the bag and he looked puzzled. “Ms Betty sends her love” you laughed. He laughed that hearty laugh he’s known for and without hesitation he pulled you in and crashed his lips to yours. Your mind was racing. You love kissing him but he didn’t hesitate.

Jensen pulled away “I’m so sorry Y/N. I don’t know why I did that. I mean I love kissing you but I…shit…I’m sorry I shouldn’t have done that.” You placed your finger on his rambling lips and told him “it’s okay. I love kissing you too. Now let’s get this inside before it melts from the heat.” Jensen nodded, smiled and led you into the house placing his hand on the small of your back.

Walking in his house you took in the beauty. It was an open floor plan and absolutely stunning. “Wow Jensen, it’s beautiful”. “Yes you are” he said looking at you. You blushed and smiled at him. He walked you into the kitchen and put the ice cream in the freezer. “Figured I’d give you a tour if you wanted before we started eating the ice cream.” He said taking your hand.

Walking from room to room you saw how his face lit up talking about memories with his children. Anytime he mentioned his wife he looked so sad. You would gently squeeze his hand and he’d smile. He showed you the kids bedrooms and of course they were adorable. Then he stopped in front of his bedroom. He opened the door and stepped in. “This is my bedroom. Well it was our bedroom but I guess now it’s just mine.” He looked around. You walked up to him and put your arms around him pulling him into a hug. “I’m so sorry Jensen. Ms Betty told me what happened. Seems like we both really understand what the other one is going through.” You offered him a soft smile.

He smiled and there was a comfortable silence that fell between you two. He cupped your face, leaned down and kissed your lips softly. You ran your hands in his hair and he pulled you closer. The kiss changed. It was deeper and filled with need. Your tongues fought for dominance. Jensen’s hands ran up your back and you felt his arousal push against you. As you pulled away your breath hitched. You could feel excitement and want radiate through your body.

Jensen felt it too. He took your hand and led you to the bed. The two of you sat down and kissed again. The kiss became more intense and the two of you laid back. “Is this okay” Jensen questioned. Words wouldn’t come. You shook your head yes. As the two of you laid back Jensen’s hands started to roam up your body. As he found your left breast you moaned into his mouth. He gripped your breast through your shirt. God this man was driving you crazy. With each touch and each kiss you felt your arousal growing. You wanted him. Was it wrong to want him? Did you even care if it was? Did he want you too?

Jensen felt you tense a little. “Y/N, I’m sorry. We can stop. This was too soon wasn’t it” he panicked.

You looked in his beautiful green eyes and shook your head no. “No, Jensen. I don’t want to stop. It isn’t too soon. I want you to touch me. I…uh…want you.” You said in a breathy voice. He pulled his shirt off over his head with one hand exposing his perfectly toned body. You bit your lip and could feel the slick pooling between your legs. You leaned up and pulled off your shirt. Jensen looked at your bra covered breasts and smiled. You reached your hand around and unhooked your bra. Your breasts sprang free and Jensen bit his lip. “Damn you’re beautiful” he said taking in the sight of your exposed chest. He cupped one breast and his mouth took the other in. Sucking it and nibbling the nipples. You arched your back and gasped. He felt so good and the electricity coursing through your body was something you’d never felt with your husband.

Your mind was racing. You both were still married, but you both are heading for divorce. Is this wrong? How far are you willing to go, how far is he? Do you really care. Jensen Ackles is making out with you and clearly he wants you.

You felt his hands on your body and leaving kisses up and down. He made his way to your pants and stopped. He leaned up “we can stop. We don’t have to go any further than kissing and what we just did. I would love more, but I’m willing to wait for as long as you want.” “Jensen, I do want you. I want you to touch me and to take me as far as you want to go. I’m just scared. Not of you but of me. I know how being with someone changes things and if I’m being honest I already have feelings for you.” You said without looking at him.

Jensen smiled, lifted your chin until your eyes met. “Sweetheart, I have feelings for you too. I thought that was obvious. I know we both just got out of bad relationships but I really feel we can make it. I can’t explain it but I really feel that way.” He placed a kiss on your lips and you moved your body closer towards him. “Take me Jensen, make me yours. Please” you whispered.

You laid back and he started to unbutton your pants. You lifted your hips so he could take them off. Jensen threw them to the side and stood up taking his off. He was in his boxers and you in your panties. Jensen looked at you, took his tongue and brought in his bottom lip biting it. “Damn sweetheart you’re absolutely gorgeous.” You blushed. “Are you ready, Y/N. We don’t have to do this. I want you to be ready” he said sweetly. “Jensen, I’m ready. I’m more than ready. I want you and I want to be with you.” You slid off your panties throwing them to the side. “Now, make me yours, please” you said.

Jensen removed his boxers and his hard length sprang free. Damn he was bigger and thicker than you thought. “Don’t worry baby, I’ll be easy.” He smirked. Jensen kissed up your thighs. You squirmed under his touch. His hot breath causing chills on your body. As he got closer to your pussy you could feel your body responding to his touch. His fingers slipped between your folds and you gasped at the thickness of his fingers. “You’re soaking wet baby” he said looking at his wet fingers. You smiled and gasped as he put his fingers back on. He hooked his fingers up and started to lick your clit like a starved man. You moaned loudly.

You couldn’t help it but you took a hand and held his hair, pushing him into you more. “Oh god Jensen. You feel so good. I’m going to cum” Jensen looked up and said “cum baby, cum for me.” A few more licks and pumps of his fingers and you were cumming hard. Your legs are shaking and he kept licking. You moaned loudly and grabbed his head. He hooked his strong arms around your thighs and kept licking your sensitive clit. You felt yourself close again. You moaned loudly and yelled “Oh fuck! Jensen I’m cumming again.” As you came undone for the second time Jensen backed away smiling.

You looked at him with a flushed face and smiled. “That was amazing Jensen. I’ve never felt like that.” He smirked and said “just wait.” He kneeled between your legs, opened the condom he pulled from the table and slid it on. He lined himself up and slowly started to push in. Your breath hitched as he entered. Oh he was so big, stretched you in ways you’ve never been before.

Jensen was taking his time entering you. Each thrust he would go a little further in. Moans escaped your lips and his. You both grunted and moaned as he bottomed out. He would pull out and slowly push all the way back in. Your toes curled as his hands roamed your body and his lips kissed you. “Oh Jensen, you feel so good. Please don’t stop” you said. “Mmm Y/N, you feel amazing. We fit together perfectly.” He thrusted in deeper. The room filled with the sounds of pleasure. The moans, grunts of pleasure and the sound of the furniture moving were swirling through the room, mingling together like a sweet symphony.

As Jensen sped up you moved your hips with him. Your nails running down his back as you pulled him closer. He kissed your lips and his movements got faster. He was chasing his release. As his release came he grunted and his movements slowed. He placed a soft kiss on your lips and as he softened he removed himself and got out of the bed.

He walked to the bathroom to remove the condom and clean himself up. When he returned he brought a warm washcloth to clean you up. After you were clean he threw the washcloth to the side and pulled down the blanket. You both crawled in the bed and Jensen offered you his arm. You snuggled into his side and placed your head on his arm. He kissed the top of your head and said “that was amazing Y/N. So much better than I had imagined. Thank you.” He kissed your head again. You looked at him and smiled. “Jensen that was absolutely mind blowing. I’ve never felt like that before and you were so gentle with me.”

“I didn’t hurt you did I” he questioned. You shook your head no. “You were perfect” you smiled. As you laid with your head on his chest you felt a little tingle in your chest. You tried to deny it but you knew. Jensen laid holding you and drawing delicate patterns on your skin. He was blissful, and not just because he had sex. Everything with you felt easy. Almost comfortable. Like you two had been together for years. He felt a little tingle in his chest. He tried to deny it but he knew.

“So Jensen, are you ready for another orgasmic experience? I’m kinda hungry.” you giggled. Jensen laughed “yeah let’s go put my theory to the test.” You both laughed. You started to get up but Jensen pulled you back into his arms. You giggled as he covered you with kisses. He let you go and you both got dressed.

Walking downstairs hand in hand you felt something shifting between you two. It was exciting but scary. Could you trust him with your heart, you thought to yourself. Jensen led you to the kitchen and grabbed a pint and two spoons. “Figured we could share the orgasmic experience” he winked. You smirked and nodded yes.

The two of you sat on the couch together and Jensen put on a movie. You have no idea what movie because you were too busy watching how he ate the ice cream. You could see now how he was able to give you an orgasm with his tongue. Damn everything he does is sexy as hell.

Jensen saw you staring and asked “you okay, sweetheart?” “Yeah, I’m just wondering if you’re trying to give that spoon an orgasm?” You chuckled. “You jealous” he smirked. You nodded yes. “I’ll be happy to give you a third one if you want.” He replied in a lust filled voice. You clenched your thighs together and moaned.

Jensen’s eyes turned a darker shade of green and filled with lust. He sat the ice cream down and took your spoon. His lips found yours. They were cold and tasted like brownies. His hands found the hem of your shirt and slipped under. He grabbed your breasts causing a moan to escape and a chill ran through your body.

Before either of you could comprehend you were making love again. This time was different. Jensen was incredible before, but this time it felt like your souls were making love. By the time you two were finished the credits were rolling on the screen. You had never been with anyone who took their time with you. It felt perfect, this felt perfect.

You knew it was late so you had to leave. A huge part of you wanted to stay but you had to get home to Jacob.

After you got dressed Jensen walked you to your car. “Thank you for coming over tonight. I want you to know I don’t regret anything you and I did. I wanted it. I wanted you.” He cupped your face and kissed you. You smiled “I don’t regret it either. I wanted it and you too. Thank you, Jensen for making me feel beautiful and wanted again.” You kissed him again and he opened your car door. “Call me when you get home.” He said as he closed your car door. You nodded and pulled out of the driveway.

On the drive home you replayed the events of the evening in your head. You smiled. Your phone dinged with a text message. You had your car read it to you. It was from Rob.

“Y/N, please don’t throw away our marriage. I love you. I couldn’t help myself. Call me. We need to talk”

You dialed his number. “What the hell do you want Rob?” You hissed when he answered the phone.

“I’m sorry baby. Please let me come back. I know I messed up.” He pleaded

“No, Rob. Absolutely not. We are done. You and Cindi have an amazing life together.” You said

“You know what you bitch, I was going to take you back but fuck you. I’m glad I have a pretty, younger woman to warm my bed. Good luck finding someone who will want a middle aged, used up woman to warm his.” Rob said.

“Don’t worry about me, Rob. I’m sure I’ll have no problem finding someone who can fuck me like I deserve.” You laughed then hung up.

You pulled in the driveway at home and saw Jacob’s car was home. You got out and went inside. Jacob was sitting on the couch eating chips. “Hey mom. How was your date” he wiggled his eyebrows. “I didn’t have a date. We just watched a movie and chatted.” You laughed. “How was your date” you laughed. “It was good. We had a lot of fun. There will be another one” he said.

“I’m glad honey. Well I’m heading to bed. Love you and good night.” You said. You went to your room and closed the door. You called Jensen. “Hey sweetheart. Did you make it home” he asked. “Yes Jens I’m home. Getting ready for bed. Jensen, I can’t stop thinking about earlier and you. It was incredible. I’ve never felt like that before.” You told him. “It was incredible. Thank you for trusting me enough to take that step with you. You felt incredible and I can’t stop thinking about you either.” He said.

The two of you talked about any and everything for a few hours. You kept yawing but didn’t want to go to sleep. “Sweetheart, you’re tired. Let me let you go to sleep.” He whispered into the phone. “No, I don’t want to go” you whined. Jensen chuckled “how about we go grab some breakfast tomorrow morning, or better yet you come here and I’ll cook for you.” “That sounds wonderful baby. What time do you want me to come over.” You asked. “How about now” he laughed. “I’m kidding. You can come over about 8 if you want.” “Okay. I’ll be there by 8. Let me know what I can bring.” You said. “You just bring your cute self” Jensen said.

“Well we should go to sleep. Good night Jensen” you whispered. “Good night baby. I’ll see you in the morning.” Jensen said. You both hung up and you sighed. Today was incredible and being with Jensen was beyond anything in your wildest dreams. You put your phone down, set your alarm and lay down. As you fell asleep you could feel your body tingle with anticipation and your heart fill with love. You knew it was too soon, but you couldn’t deny it. You were completely and irrevocably falling in love with Jensen. You only hoped he was too.

Tags: @nescaveckdaily @kr804573 @k-slla @jackles010378 @jawritter @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @roseblue373 @cheynovak @jassackles @chriszgirl92 @suckitands33 @arcannaa @n-o-p-e-never

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Silver Lining 3

Warnings: non/dubcon, speech impediment, bullying and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: silverfox!Bucky Barnes

Summary: You have an unpleasant encounter with an older man.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

"So your sister will be coming by next week with the little ones," your mother declares as you stand at the sink, scrubbing away the remnants of roast beef and potato. "You'll get to play auntie for the day."

"Mhmm," you nod, "what about Justin?"

"Oh, your brother's down visiting with his fiance's family. He said he'd try to make if for Christmas Eve but you know how her family is."

You sniff and pretend to know. You really don't. It's all hearsay to you. You don't hear much from either siblings; they have lives, you just happen to be related.

"S-sounds great," you utter as you put another plate in the rack.

"Oh, honey, you should just use the dishwasher," she says.

"It's f-f-fine, this works," you insist.

"Well, what about you? What are you up to?" She leans on the counter.

"I..." you don't know what to say. You need a lie, anything to appease her. Your brother's engaged, your sister has the white picket fence and you have nothing, "oh, I h-have a job interview."

"You do?" She sounds thoroughly disbelieving.

"Uh, yeah, w-well," you stammer through, trying not to give away your deceit, "since n-no one wants to h-hire me in my f-field, I f-found something new."

"That's exciting," she chimes, "what is it?"

"Uh, I w-want to see i-if it turns out b-before I say," you give a tight-lipped smile, "don't want to d-disappoint you again."

"Sweetie, you're not a disappointment," she hums, "I'm always happy to see you trying."

You look down at the sink and shrug. Behind that comment is the inference that you weren't trying before. That you haven't been. The long nights with vivid nightmares don't exactly motivate you and you've been all but blacklisted as an executive assistant. Even admin roles aren't responding. Even if you do get a bite, the job market is drawn out and tedious.

"Thanks, mom."

"Just... try not to mope around the kids," she chides, "it's Christmas."

You flutter your lashes, "sure, mom."

That's what you are to everyone; weak, pathetic, useless. No, don't do that. You'll make another appointment with Lisa, she always knows what to do.

☕️

Well, this is it. A last resort. One of those freelancing websites that pays pennies. It's better than nothing and will keep you from having too big a gap on your resume. You could easily do the writing gigs, easy money for transcription. You apply to a few of those and scroll on.

You sit up as you see a particular posting that interest you. Oddly enough, the pay isn't half bad. It's also labeled as 'may lead to ongoing work'. Well, well, well, now that's something.

You click into the posting for 'Podcast Script Writer' and review the details. A sample is required for application and lucky enough, you have lots of those hanging around. If it wasn't for your stammer, you'd have an episode done by now. You deleted enough recordings to the point of giving up. Well, this is a solution. You can get your work out there without having to embarrass yourself.

You go through the application, putting in your info and editing a draft before attaching it to the application. You just hope it's thorough enough. You never really let anyone else see and hitting submit makes your stomach flip. With the final click, you close your laptop and quickly get up. Alright, you're not going to dwell on it. If you hear anything, you'll worry then.

You try to read but can't focus. It just makes you think of the posting and your application. Oh jeez, imagine you're rejected but worse, they tell you you've done everything wrong.

Appointment! You can't forget that. You login to the app and put in a request for a Zoom appointment that week. Alright, you're getting things done, you can't say you've done nothing.

You put a video on your phone and lean it on the pop out grip, propping it up on your mattress to watch the compilation of sitcom moments cut together on Youtube. Your mind wanders and your eyes begin to sag as the day shrouds you in fatigue. You slip into a shallow doze as the glare of the screen flickers over you.

The distant clack of keyboards and clicking of mouses needles behind your ears. It's as if you're trapped in a bubble of silence, all colours and noised dampened by the unseen wall. You shudder as you hear his voice, the only thing that's clear. Your name crawls up behind the shell of your ear with his breath as his hands settle on your hips. Your body aches as every muscles tightens and your bones lock in place. Please, no, not again...

"Sir..." you try to speak but nothing comes out. He's always tugging your skirt up, his hand is around your throat. You close your eyes as tears stain your cheeks.

You wake with a start, your phone black as the battery's drained from neglect. You sit up and pant, looking around your dark bedroom, the moonlight limning shadows sinisterly. You gulp and fall back, watching the ceiling as the tears rise in reality and sting your eyes.

If you'd just said no. A simple word. Even you can manage that.

You lay for a while until your restlessness boils over. You get up and plug in your phone. The screen lights up as you rub your eye socket and yawn. There's an email notification in the taskbar. Probably more ads for things you can't afford.

You pull down the menu but find ‘Application Update’ emblazoned across the notification. Oh wow, that was fast. You keep yourself from tapping on the email.

You don't know if you can handle another rejection. You'd rather languish in the uncertainty. You've been doing so for so long, it almost feels safe.

[prof-peach]

Bit ooc but I have a question. How you do go about planing out your PLA comic? Like how do you actually turn your ideas/ storyline into comic form? Is it chapter to chapter or do you have the whole idea already planned out? Trying to find my own way in comic making so I’m just wondering if you could give any advice. Feel free to ignore if you don’t feel comfortable answering

So, at first this was al i could think to send.

because its incredibly accurate to my process.

Jokes aside, a lot of how i work is back and forth chaos, fighting with ideas until im happy with them. I will start with a list (usually not written down because im unhinged and keep a ot of it in my brain) and organise it in a way that makes sense to the situation, in this case workign with a game with an established plot...not that its a very strong one.

with a set of ideas, and a game to work around i will ramble and rant to a few choice people who i bounce well off, and also stare into space for hours on end building the ideas. This process can be days, it can be years. For context, i have some notes from 2019 about things i wanted to include that are still relevant. I have been scheming how to break and rebuild this OC for ages. Theres no correct time frame, so long as you simply do the work.

Once i have a fairly loose plan, i start to solidify the benning and the end. What is required to make a character compelling, what makes them believable, what makes them human in a way that we recognise. this isnt always a positive thing, people like to call characters who do bad things problematic, but its human nature to make mistakes and be damaged or difficult, the process of the story is not always rainbows and sunshine. For me, this hits even harder, as im trying to tell a story from the perspective of someone fundamentally broken, so showing those breaks and cracks has to be done wisely.

This is the point where i make notes about things that need to change from the start to the end. And ill say one thing, this story in particular, I have not solidly planned the middle. I am allowing space for me to come up with new ideas at points. Being locked into a dead set of ideas can be quite limiting, and as creators we consume and process things constantly to generate new stories. Id be a fool to make a plan and stick to it. everything i do is vague guidelines.

However, I know exactly how the story ends in Hisui, and where it goes to from there. And i think me personally knowing the end goal makes it easier to plot steps towards that, and some of those steps are anything but progressive.

If nothing else, the end was the only thing i saw clearly, and it has only become more complex and loaded and emotional as the rest of this has fallen into place. If you can see the goal, you can work out how to get there with time.

Regarding the chapters, i tend to draft plan up like 3-4 of them at a time, and then go in order to sketch out one after the other, so i have plenty of time to change things while i adjust. its constantly a process of seeing what you make, seeing issues, and scrapping whole parts just to redraw something better or new, unique even. I dont think a single page ive posted has resembled the very VERY first draft thumbnail ive made, and thats just how i do. Every panel, how big they are, the angle you hand the viewer, the way you light things, the expressions, this all dictates SO SO much.

Taking time over it is kind of the job, and let me stress, this is normally a job done by a team, especially the highly popular comics. one inks, one colours, one shades, one handles text, one edits, theres so many people behind it, so dont be bothered by the pace at which things are made if youre working alone like i am. One person means longer production times, if you can, spread the workload out, but its not required. Its why i always say it doesnt matter how long it takes to make, so long as youre still making.

I think its also worth noting, comics are consumed quickly, the bakcgournds and small details can be lost in the ace of the storytelling, pick and choosing your battles is wise, save your time on panels where you want the reader to shift along quicker, keep that pace high, and add in more detail and depth to panels you want to champion or get the viewers to hang around on more. its ok to let go of a "perfect" image in favour of getting content out, if youre being driven nuts by it. Again, time be damned, be happy with it. And if you can let go of petty details, id suggest doing it when possible, so long as it doesnt effect the storytelling.

I mean what else can i even say. This work is a passion project, I love it, more than i can even put into words, and i think you kind of have to, to make comics without monetary motivation. sure you can get lucky and find ways to make it big, but for most of us, its the love of the story. So maybe try not to be your biggest hater, its easy to slip into the behaviour, so try be gentle on yourself and the process. I should take that advice myself haha! but i really do mean it. This is HARD work, so be kind to yourself over it.

anyway, with a rough idea, a bunch of sketches, and time, they get inked and fussed over, i make a billion changes to layout and story, and eventually posting can happen but not after fighting with the monster that is creating. Idk what else i can say. This is not work for the feint of heart, but anyone can learn to do it.

Good luck, comic artists can always use it!

[azwhore]

husband alex turner x wife reader

warnings: nun but fluff <3

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It’s been a while since you’ve last seen Alex. He’s been on tour for The Car for six months and have only seen him on a few occasions. You couldn’t go with him and the band due to work; you were forced to stay behind despite your attempts to go with them.

The last time you and Alex had seen each other was about two months ago. The only reason you were able to see him was for an interview he had in which you were invited to. He begged you to go with him even though you didn’t like doing so. Alex knows that. You’ve always hated being interviewed with him because it felt like the interviewers were trying to pry into your private relationship. What went on between Alex and you was for you two only, not for the public.

After a long day at work, you come home exhausted. You’re eager to shower, eat some dinner, and just relax. Who wouldn’t be? So when you get home, that’s exactly what you do. An “everything” shower was desperately needed after the week you’ve had.

Once done with your shower, you put on a comfy set of pajamas. A grey tank top and white sweats, perfect. You decide on some perfume, even though you won’t be around anyone for the rest of the night. You put on your Victoria’s Secret Bare roll-on perfume. It’s your favorite.

You finish getting dressed and make your way to the kitchen to make dinner. Deciding on what you’ve taken out, you make pollo guisado (chicken stew). It was one of your favorites. Mom always made it when you were younger.

After some time, you finish cooking and feast on it. Man, were you a damn good cook. One good meal later, you settle in your queen sized bed that you shared with Alex. You miss him. You miss his warm body cuddling. You miss his soothing voice.

You soon dwell no more on that, as you were almost on the brink of tears. You pick up your book that you were currently reading on the nightstand, How the Garcia Girls Lost Their Accents. So far, you are greatly enjoying the book. You like analyzing it as well as it being somewhat relatable.

***

It’s 11:18 PM, about an hour and a half since you started reading. You need to get some sleep since you have work all over again tomorrow. Luckily though, tomorrow is Friday. Wonderful.

You put your book back and settle in bed. You can feel sleepiness sinking you deeper and deeper. Reveling in the feeling, you eventually fall asleep.

Suddenly, you feel something envelop around you. You wake up, anxiety beginning to course through you. Just as you are about to panic, you hear a voice whisper in your ear.

“I’ve missed you, love.” You’d recognize that voice anywhere. It’s Alex.

Turning around, you take a good look at your husband whom you haven’t seen for two months. He greets you with a smile, his hair as messy as you remember.

“Alex!” You exclaim. You couldn’t express your excitement any other way than wrapping your arms around him. Tears begin to well at your eyes, threatening to fall. You try to hold them back with all your might so you could speak with him.

“I thought you wouldn’t be able to come back for a while? How come you’re here?” You ask, bringing him into another big hug. You can feel him smiling against you as he brings his arms around your body, squeezing you against him.

“One of the shows got postponed for two weeks from now so I immediately came here. I had to see you. If I had gone another day without you, I would have gone mad.” He explained. It felt so good to see him again.

“Ugh, I’ve missed you so much.” You say. Suddenly you realize he might be hungry so you ask, “Are you hungry? There’s still some leftovers from what I made earlier. I can heat it up for you.”

“No, that’s okay. I’m just glad to be here with my wife.” He smiles. You could never get tired of his smile.

“How’s the tour so far? It looks like you and the boys are having some fun.” You laugh. Even though you aren’t going on tour with them, you still keep up sometimes. Especially with those edits of him that fangirls make. You’re not complaining since your husband is a damn fine man if you say so yourself. They should tone it down just a bit, though (don’t actually alex turner is so fine).

“Yeah it’s been awesome. The places we’ve been to have been beautiful. I really wish you could come with us, love. That would just make it 100 times better.” Alex smiles once again.

“Me too. But you already know why I can’t. If I didn’t have work, I most definitely would.” You say. It’s not like Alex wouldn’t full on support you financially; he obviously would. You, on the other hand, don’t want that. The two of you even got into a big argument once about it. He doesn’t see a problem in financially stabilizing you, but you would rather work. You still want to have a life and work for yourself. You don’t want to be just a stay-at-home wife; it’s so stereotypical of celebrity relationships. You want to make a living for yourself, and Alex now 100% understands and supports that.

“Yeah, I get it. My dear wife is so strong.” He gives you a quick kiss with a smirk. You giggle at that. Alex always knows how to make you laugh.

Some time later, you lay with each other in a comfortable silence. This was almost the best part of your relationship. You two could just sit there with your eyes closed not saying a word and you both would understand each other.

Alex lays on his back, eyes closed with his left arm wrapped around your shoulders. Your head is resting against his chest while your hand is on his stomach gently tracing circles. Your eyes were closed too as he hummed to you.

“You know, I still have to go to work tomorrow.” You break the silence. Alex hums in response.

“Do you really though? I’m going to be stuck here by myself all day without you.” He says with a pout.

“Well, I probably could call out tomorrow. One day wouldn’t hurt, right?” You question. Now that you think about it, you haven’t called out from work in a while. You should get a day off. “Hm, I think I’ll stay here with my husband. I get to enjoy a whole three days with you.” You say kind of sarcastically. Although you were anything but sarcastic. You’re more than happy to spend the rest of his two week break with him, as was he.

The both of you continue to enjoy each other’s silence, sleep overcoming you once again. Your eyes feel heavy as they slowly fall. Eventually, you succumb to your slumber, your breath evening out. Alex follows soon after with you in his arms. He really hopes these two weeks last forever.

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