#the colours are all over the place.. but this show is so damn hard to make consistent

[louferrignojrofficial]

LOU FERRIGNO JR as DONOVAN ROCKER ↳ S.W.A.T. — 3x07

[bunny-jpeg]

kink-o-ween - day seven

lando norris - lingerie

cw: smut/pwp, body worship, dirty talk, missionary, established relationship

kink-o-ween: formula one edition - call of duty edition

you never thought that orange was your colour. in fairness maybe a softer orange or a burnt orange would suit your body better. but mclaren knew very little about nice colours, the glaring orange they use was great on the track. but terrible on your body.

after his most recent win, you wanted to impress your boyfriend of the last several months. he worked so hard to get where he was, so close to the championship that he could almost taste the champagne of victory! and it was your job to make sure that morale was high for him, so he could see his victory to the end.

and sometimes that meant wearing the garish mclaren orange.

you wore the lingerie all day on the track. you were thankful that the clothes you wore over top were made of a thick enough material to hide any showing of what was underneath. no one needed to see your orange panties. but, that did mean you were fanning yourself more often due to the heat.

damn if you do, damn if you don't.

however, you were the most happy about the fact that despite the colour. the set was rather comfortable. the bra had enough support that it didn't dig into your sides and the panties were made of a lacy material that didn't scratch at weird places. and most of all you were happy to see lando score his victory.

he was all smiles as you two headed back to the hotel room for the night. you were practically guiding him to your room. he was attached to you like barnacle. his arms wrapped around you, you were wearing his mclaren hat.

he was even getting a good feel of you which made you squirm a little as you tried to get the key into the door. once it was opened you managed to get enough distance from him to get your shoes off. he followed suit, he knew you wouldn't let him get his dirty runners into your shared bed. he was running off the high of the weekend. he wanted to dig his hands into his beautiful girlfriend and give her all the loving he could.

he was eager to get his black t-shirt off and strip down to nothing. but he got curious when you got closer to the bedroom and hadn't taken a single thing off (other than your shoes). and once you got into the bedroom, you sat on the bed while lando stood there partially undressed.

"is everything okay?" he asked.

you nodded, "oh yeah, of course! i just had a surprise for you. and i didn't want to ruin it in the living room." you giggled, "come sit and i'll show you."

lando, eager to please, sat down and got his belt out of the loops of his jeans. he watched you get up before you reached for the hem of your t-shirt. you paused for a moment and lando leaned forward.

"god, this is going to be embaressing. you better not think it's tacky."

lando chuckled, "babe, you could wear leopard print and tiger print at the same time and i wouldn't think it was tacky. c'mon, show me." his voice gave you enough confidence to fully get your t-shirt off. revealing the bright orange bra underneath. lando's eyes went wide and he said, "oh, wow!"

you dropped the shirt and crossed your arms, "ugh, this is stupid."

"no, no! i love it. is that my number right there." he leaned a little forward and pulled your arms away from your chest. as an added detail you put on it you sewed lando's number over the left cup of the bra. he beamed at you, "oh, this is beautiful." then took you by the arms and pulled you onto the bed.

he was soon over top of you, his hands on you as he kissed you passionately. he continued to give you praise for your undergarments. you were such a thoughtful girlfriend. you were perfect for him and he loved you so much. he soon got out of his clothes rather quickly, but admired the lingerie on you for a little while longer.

he touched your breasts, he grabbed hold and felt the fabric and you soft skin under his palms. his cock was hard as he admired your beauty. and you couldn't help but feel hot in the cheeks as you laid there under him.

"you look good in this colour."

"i don't know if you'd be saying that if you weren't driving for mclaren." you replied then lando leaned in a kissed you on the lips. you felt him start to undo your bra and you did your best to get the panties off. he wished that you couldn't left them on the entire time you had sex. but, the only think better than you in mclaren orange was you naked.

"as long as you had my number on you, i'd be happy. you could be in a potato sack with the number four, and i'd still make love to you." he chuckled as he got the bra off. then slowly got the panties off.

once you were naked, lando started to undress himself, your eyes lingered on his toned body and you leaned in to kiss him over the heart which made him shudder a little bit. you giggled against his heated skin.

"maybe next time i should make you wear something with my name on it." then kissed his collarbone.

he worked at his jeans and laughed a little, "i'll happily do that." before he kicked off his pants and eventually his boxers. now both naked you two were together in the bed.

you moaned into the kiss he placed on your lips and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. you rubbed yourself up against him. lando's hands roamed your body.

when he pulled away from the kiss and pressed his forehead against yours. he smiled at you, "you're beautiful. so beautiful. i can't believe you were wearing that all day today. i wished you showed me, i would've happily take it off at the track."

"oh my god, you perv." you giggled as you raked your fingers through his dark hair, "you'd happily have me over your car if given the chance."

he pulled away and beamed at you, "will you." and was met with a slap on the chest. he laughed, "i'm joking!" before he took you by the hips and brought you closer to him. he eyed your body for a moment and licked his lips, "plus, i'd hate for anyone else to see all this beautiful. call me selfish, but i want this all to myself." his cock twitched at the sight of you.

"good then, because you have it. every last inch, from top to bottom." and you watched lando smile before he leaned in once more for a heated kiss. you held onto his shoulders while he got a better hold of your hips.

when he pulled away, he got himself properly in between your legs. then slowly inched his cock into your pussy. you held onto the covers under you as he got himself into you. you made a soft moaning noise and he felt excitement run through him.

*

you were perfect, so perfect that you got lingerie for him. based off of his number and team colours. you looked amazing in it and he wished you'd wear it more. to know that you were wearing his colours. he leaned in for another kiss as he started to move against you. he pressed his chest up against yours. his lips found yours and held onto your soft hips.

"i love you." he said when he broke the kiss for a moment. he groaned a little before he went in for another kiss. he deepened it and he felt his heart rate increase.

you moaned against his lips, you said you loved him too in your mind as you soon held onto his shoulders. you felt lando move against you, and his hungry gaze on you as the two of you fucked on the bed.

you two made a good pair, most people would say that. especially when you greeted lando when he won and when he'd hold you so tightly after a race. you were his good luck charm and always pushed himself past his limits on the track when he knew you were watching. he didn't believe that was a 'number one fan' of his, but if there was, you'd have that title.

"i love you." he said again as he moved faster against you. he watched your breasts move with each of his movements. your hands were back on the covers and he could see you panting.

there was a bit of sweat on your bodies as the two of you moved together. you quickly found lando's pace and met it. which only made the two of you hotter. the added pleasure seeped into your brains as the bed creaked under you.

"you are the most beautiful woman in the world. when we're done i'm going to kiss every part of you. you need to know how beautiful you are. how you look under me. you drive me crazy every day, i can't do a day without seeing you or a photo of you. but no photo does it justice." he groaned as he pulled back and re positioned himself on his knees to get the perfect angle to fuck you.

"you're making me blush." you giggled as you tried to hide your face for a moment, but lando soon pressed your hands onto the bed and continued to thrust into you.

"don't hide from me. you're too beautiful to hide yourself. i want to see every inch of you." he panted a little heavier as he really moved against you. his thrusts were hard and made you see stars.

"lando!" you whined.

he looked at you as he really worked himself against you. his tanned and toned body really moved well against you. he could feel his brain full of lust as he started to lose his pace, pleasure fully taking over.

you held onto his hands tightly as you really felt the thrill of pleasure in your body. you held on tightly as you came around his cock, the pleasure washed over you like a wave and it left you panting like an animal. you could feel the sweat at your temples as it all came crashing down on you.

"lando."

"i got you, beautiful." he chuckled softly as he kissed the apple of your cheek before he continued to rut against you. the kisses continued once more and with a few more heavy thrusts, your boyfriend finished inside of you.

you whined against him and felt a shudder of want through his body. he continued to rut against you a few more times before he eventually slowed down to a stop.

he was panting heavily and so were you. he pulled out and laid next to you on the bed. he wrapped you up in his arms and kissed you on the mouth. he melted a little bit into a kiss as he felt the after waves of pleasure.

"can you put the lingerie back on? i want to see it on you again, maybe take some photos." he beamed at you lazily. you pinched his cheeks and kissed him once more.

you'd do it for him, after all you paid good morning for it! <3

[calisources]

𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐔𝐀𝐋 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐄𝐗𝐔𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒.

All these quotes are taken from different works of fiction and depict sensual, sexual tension between two people in different scenarios. There are some that are suggestive while others are more detail so this meme is nsft and usft, please tag accordingly. Mentions of jealousy, possessiveness, sex, fantasies are all here. Change pronouns, names, locations as you see fit.

I knew the first moment I saw him that it was going to be raw, it was going to be ugly, and I was going to enjoy every damn minute of it.

You're still looking.

You make it hard to look away.

I'm over here keeping my hands and memories to myself because you asked me to, that’s not fair.

If you'd just man up and admit there's something between us, I would strip down to my skin so you could see every single inch of me.

How long are you going to make me wait?

How awfully presumptuous of you to think I'd let you.

You missed my arrogance almost as much as I missed your impudence, little one.

You said not to fall for you. Did you change your mind?

We both needed to blow off some steam, and we did, right?

They say the colour of a lady’s lips is an exact match to another region on the body?

You're too soft.

Can we go back to making out now?

You sound jealous.

Then tell me this is what you truly want. Swear you want this more than anything else and I'll never mention it again.

If you want me to play the bawd, at least give me the benefit of your advice.

Tell me how it's done. Do you think she'd like it if I came to her like this, if I looked deeply in to her eyes?

And then like this? Is this how I ought to seduce her?

You're wet, aren't you?

You drove me mad.

She asked me not to be gentle with her, either,I would have been gentle with you, though.

I would have had you moaning my name throughout it all. And I would have taken a very, very long time, Feyre.

I'm all yours to look at, you know.

You need to let me go, darling, before we start something I intend to finish.

Feel free to touch, darling. It's all yours.

. . .I hate you.

Say it again.

Grind it. Nice and fine.

I gave him a few smiles and he handed over a family heirloom. I bet he'd give me the keys to his territory if I showed up wearing those undergarments.

Why shouldn't I? You seem to have difficulty not staring at me day and night.

Am I supposed to deny, that I find you attractive?

Is that a challenge, Feyre?

Do you think it's fair that you have seen every inch of me, and I have seen none of you?

Move with me now.

Touch me anywhere you please.

I want you to make love to me.

Do you know what that truly means?

You do know? You know that I will be inside you and that I will move inside you, until we are both mad from pleasure?

I want you inside me.

You have three minutes to get ready now.

I did dream about you. I didn’t want to, but I did.

What was I doing in your dreams?

Someone is watching us through the window.

All the more reason to put on a good show.

You're not in a position to make demands.

The best things are found in the most secret places.

And you are a beautiful, sexy temptress who is about to be fucked by a man who wants her so desperately he's willing to do anything to have her.

When I'm with a woman, it's not me doing the begging.

You're rubbing yourself all over me. What did you think was going to happen?

I thought you were all about self-control.

I remember how powerful those thighs are.

You are more beautiful than I imagined.

And your skin... Christ, it shimmers like gold.

I'm naked underneath.

Tell me----did it get you off knowing I was watching?

I want to take you under the moonlight.

Please, don’t stop.

Oh, so I shouldn’t? That would be cruel of me, wouldn’t it?

I am the cruelest man you will ever meet, but, I will make you feel so good, you will not care.

I’ve never been with a man before.

You do bad things to me, Carrie. Very bad things.

And you, Miss, are no lady.

[obitos-whore]

How the Naruto men react to their crush kissing their cheek as a "thank you". (Kakashi, Obito, Gaara, Kankuro, Shisui, Itachi, Sasuke, Madara)

────────────────────────────────────

Kakashi

Lets out a soft "Eh??" sound and quickly turns his head towards you, his eyes widened in shock

Thanks to his mask, you can't really see his cheeks heating up and turning cherry red (at least that's what he's thinking)

Will try his best to keep his composure but fails and just shifts his weight awkwardly from one foot to the other

His touch starved mind is a complete mess and can't seem to make sense of your sudden action

Will think about the kiss nonstop and touch his cheek every now and then when you're not around

Obito

Obito.exe has stopped working

Obito's face turns bright red instantly and he immediately begins to stammer like a flustered schoolboy

"Wha-what was that for???"

Tries to somehow not be awkward and accidentally ends up acting even more awkward, much to your amusement

When he is all by himself, he will giggle to himself and will walk around with the goofiest and brightest grin

Gaara

His eyes widen instantly and he stares at you completely dumbfounded and with a light shade of pink on his face

"What... was that for, Y/n?"

Can feel his heart racing and fears it might burst out of his chest any second

Congrats, you just made him fall in love with you even more

Afterwards he looks longingly at your lips ever so often, imagining how it would feel to kiss them

Kankuro

Shy boy

Tries to act tough but fails miserably

He doesn't want to look like a total idiot in front of you, but he can't really stop himself from blushing. And his face painting does absolutely nothing to cover it

Attempts to communicate with you in coherent sentences, without stumbling over his words and thinks he got it (he doesn't)

If Temari was there to witness it, she will never stop teasing him about his 'amazing' performance

Shisui

Grins like a total goofball and playfully offers you his other cheek as well

"You missed a spot, sweetcheeks."

On the outside he's completely chill about it, but mentally he's kicking his feet and giggling like a child in a candy store

Will take this as an invitation to flirt with you and may or may not give you a peck in return (he will)

Brags about this to Itachi

Itachi

Completely lost when your lips touch his cheek

"You kissed me." He states in a matter of fact tone while keeping a cool exterior

He may look unbothered by it on the outside, but on the inside he feels all fuzzy and tingly damn butterflies

Has to resist the urge to just kiss you back

Although he doesn't want to get his hopes up too high, he suspects that you might like him more than a friend. At least a little bit

Sasuke

Instantly pulls away and stares at you like a deer in headlights before regaining his composure and crossing his arms in front of his chest

Pretends he finds it annoying, but secretly likes it

Literally fighting for his life to keep his cheeks from being anything but a healthy peach colour

Can't stop thinking about it and wonders why you would kiss his cheek in the first place if a simple "Thank you" would've sufficed

Ends up doing you more favours, hoping you'll kiss him again

Madara

Lets out a soft grunt with his arms crossed

Tries so hard to not show any sort of reaction but ends up smirking before reaching out, grabbing your chin and kissing you back right at your mouth

"That's how you give a proper kiss, dear."

Basking in your flustered reaction and enjoying every second of it

Gives you another smirk before he walks off casually as if he didn't just steal your lips virginity

[okaysonny]

the big deal of babysitting ╏ jake kim

ᯓ★ summary: lineman boldly asks him to mind his little sister.

ᯓ★ details: fluff, no reader, jerry appears! - spoiler free. (but takes place after second affiliate)

ᯓ★ wc: 830

ᯓ★ A/N: couldn't get reluctant babysitter jake out of my head so i had to improvise! very spur of the moment thing because i should be studying for exams...but after they finish, next fic will be zack and johan! yay! (iykyk) also, lineman having a little sister feels so canon to me. idk why?

divider image: Frich on pinterest

jake isn’t sure how it’s come to this.

out of all people lineman could have asked, why him? as if he didn't have to do…literally anything else. one fight with some movie extras and he suddenly has all the world's confidence.

“she’s super easy to handle!” he had said, shoving a bag of snacks and a tablet into jake’s hands before bolting out the door. “i’ll only be gone for a few hours! you’re the best, boss!”

he already feels like drowning.

lineman’s little sister, maybe six years old, sits cross-legged on the floor, staring up at him curiously. she doesn’t say much, just hugs her stuffed bunny tightly and tilts her head every time he moves.

“so…what do you wanna do?” jake asks, trying to sound somewhat approachable.

“can you fight monsters?”

he thinks for a second. “sure”

“you look really tall. can you touch the ceiling?”

jake glances up and sighs. “no”

she frowns, clearly unimpressed, and jake wonders how this somehow feels worse than any fight he’s been in.

by the time she gets bored of interrogating, she’s bouncing around the cramped apartment. lineman was clearly lying about the "easy to handle" part.

“don’t climb that!” he exclaims, but she’s already halfway up on the chair near the shelf.

“i just want the cookies!” she protests, standing on tiptoes as it wobbles beneath.

jake moves before he can think, catching her mid-fall as the chair tips over. she clings to his neck like a scared cat, her tiny hands gripping on to him.

“you okay?” his tone is gentle now.

“yes…” she mumbles. “…sorry”

jake exhales, setting her back on her feet. “you scared me, kid. don’t do that again, alright?”

she nods, looking genuinely remorseful, and he finds it surprisingly hard to stay annoyed. she sticks close to him after, holding onto him whenever he moves around.

eventually, jake pulls out his phone and calls the only person he can.

“boss?” jerry answers on the first ring, as per usual.

“jerry, i need backup” he says flatly.

there’s a pause. “…what kind of backup?”

“i'm looking after lineman's sister” jake glances at the little girl, who’s now absentmindedly colouring at the table. “but she’s a menace”

“a little kid? you can’t handle a little kid, boss?”

“do you want a promotion or not, jerry?” he says dryly.

jerry hesitates, confused. “…but i’m already number two”

“well…don't let the others know, but i’m working on creating a top-secret position” his voice turns serious. “it’s between number two and number one. you interested?”

jerry pauses for a moment, and he can practically hear him thinking it over. “…are you serious, jake?”

jake smirks, shaking his head. “totally”

his tone is now oddly determined. “alright, i’m on my way!”

when jerry shows up, lineman’s sister immediately zeroes in on him.

“are you jerry?” she asks, squinting up.

“yes, ma’am” he politely crouches slightly so he’s closer to her height. “what’s up?”

“can you touch the ceiling?”

jerry grins, straightening to his full height. “wanna see?”

she nods enthusiastically, and jerry being the giant he is, reaches up to touch the ceiling with ease. she claps in delight, and jake can't help but snort at how proud he looks.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎

by the time lineman comes back, his sister is dozing off on the couch, clutching her stuffed bunny.

“thanks, jake” he says sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. “i owe you big time!”

“damn right you do” he mutters, grabbing his jacket. “don’t make a habit of this”

as he and jerry head out, the child suddenly stirs and runs to catch them at the door.

“wait! i made this for you” she says shyly, holding out a sheet of paper.

he unfolds it, revealing a crayon drawing of himself. in the picture, he’s taller than the buildings in the background, with a superhero cape and the words “JAKE, THE UNCLE WHO SAVED ME” scrawled beneath.

he stares at it, something warm settling in his chest.

“thank you, kiddo” he smiles, ruffling her hair gently.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎

on the way back, jerry glances at him. “you gonna frame that?”

“shut up jerry” but he carefully folds the drawing and tucks it into his pocket, somewhere it won’t get bent.

for a moment, his thoughts wander. he never thinks about kids. ever. why would he? definitely not with the life he leads right now.

jake clenches his jaw, his mind flashing to memories of his own father: a man who had chosen selfish indulgences over responsibility. looking after everyone, but his own family.

if life ever brings him to that point - if he ever had a child looking up at him, trusting him like that - he wouldn’t be like his father. he couldn’t. he’d be the kind of person they could count on, no matter what.

for the first time, jake wonders what it would be like. would he be capable of it?

maybe he wouldn’t be so bad at parenthood after all.

[savorypink]

come and stay with us

a series of unfortunate events leads you to an inn.

fluff, smut, dad!alex.

Is there a stronger word for fucked? Doomed? Ill-fated? Wrecked? Should synonyms be on your mind? You're all the above, anyway. Your car's engine had a minor hiccup. Okay, minor is putting it lightly, but perhaps you could gaslight yourself into thinking this isn't a big deal. It'll spare you the tears.

The most crucial meeting of your career is today, but your car couldn't give half of a damn. In fact, your car's capacity for caring is so low that it broke down in the middle of Butt-Fuck Nowhere. If the empty road could morph, it would turn into a smile. It definitely feels like it's mocking you.

Now, you aren’t without options. You got a cell phone. Make a call—or several. There’s your boss; sweet talk him into not firing you. Reschedule your presentation, and it’ll be rainbows and sunshine. Oh, and don’t forget roadside assistance. You won’t last long on foot.

Like a madman, you dig through your purse, nearly tearing the leather to shreds in your haste. Your fingers finally close around the phone. Relief washes over you. Temporarily. The screen is off—odd, but you brush it off. When you press the power button, the low battery icon flashes. A warning. Your heart is in your throat but plummets before the phone shuts down. You don’t even reach the lock screen.

You worked too hard on your makeup. Banging your head against the steering wheel is not an option.

Perhaps you can make it on foot.

As you leave your car to open the trunk, the air is filled with the sweet scent of tree sap. Butt-Fuck Nowhere isn’t without a view. There’s some trees—lots of them, their leaves a vibrant cluster of fall colours. You didn’t hogtie a mechanic and throw him in your trunk, so you’re a little disappointed to see just your suitcases. You haul them out, lock your car, and start walking. But not before giving your car the middle finger. Cardio is fun. This is simply a workout.

The path unwinds before you, dappled with sunlight trickling through the sea of leaves. As you walk, the unmistakable smell of autumn hangs in the air, and the sound of leaves crunching under your pumps is the ultimate ASMR. God, it’s beautiful. The forest is alive with colour—reds, oranges, and golds blending together.

"Don’t do it. Enjoy this." You assure yourself. "You aren’t cooped up in an office. No higher-ups laughing at your ideas. For once, you’re breathing. And it feels easy."

Amidst your tranquillity, anxiety weighs its heavy shadow over your shoulders. Once your phone’s up and running, your first Google search will be "how to put in a two-week notice". The thought of showing your face in that office makes your stomach churn—what’s your boss going to think?

Better yet, what does this say about you? That you’re unreliable? Replaceable? The very things you’ve prided yourself on now remain up in the air.

The colours of autumn blur as you lose yourself in thought, a frigid wind whipping your hair. Maybe you need a change. A fresh start. Something away from the pressure of deadlines and high expectations.

As you round a bend, your pulse quickens. A two-story building comes into view. Ivy scales its stone walls while smoke billows from the chimney. Warm light spills from the windows, casting a glow on the cobblestone path before you.

For a moment, it feels like a mirage; you practically spoke this place into existence. You read the weathered sign before entering. Whiskey Way Inn. Though, the "inn" part is crossed out in red paint. "Lodge" is written above it in its place. Interesting.

Inside, the warmth is blissfully overwhelming. A roaring fire crackles in the fireplace, casting dancing shadows on the wooden beams. The armchairs around the hearth are plush and inviting with handmade pillows and—do you smell bread? And soup? The rumbling in your tummy proves your previous suspicions wrong. Dead wrong. This place is not a mirage.

Beside you, the small reception desk is vacant. A guestbook decked out in Bluey stickers sits on the counter, alongside some business cards and a pink glitter pen. Well, it definitely feels lived in. But by who? A three-year-old? You notice that the business cards get the same treatment as the sign at the entrance. "Inn" crossed out, but is "Lodge" written in that adorable pink pen. Again, interesting.

"Lilypad," a man’s voice groans. “You’re getting too big for me to carry.”

"Not true!" A smaller voice quips. "You carried a pumpkin yesterday. A big one. I saw you!"

"The abnormally large pumpkin you picked from the patch? Daddy’s back hasn’t known a good day since."

He’s got a tiny human at his side and unruly brown hair. Flour dusts the apron he’s wearing, and small handprints from, you’re assuming, Lily are scattered across it. Their large brown eyes bore into you, but the dad’s eyes linger longer than what feels appropriate. You sure feel crazy for wandering in Butt-Fuck Nowhere with no destination, but you didn’t think you looked the part too. You're still in your work blazer and pencil skirt.

Lily whispers something in his ear, and that very ear turns red when she pulls away. Lily giggles, and just like her, it’s adorable.

"Are you, um," he stammers, clearing his throat. "Checking in?"

You nod. "Kind of. I don’t have a reservation."

He sets Lily down, letting her scurry into the common area. "That’s alright. I’ll take care of you."

I’ll take care of you. Now, it’s something you’ve heard before from almost everyone in your life at least once. You can’t explain it, but the phrase seems more believable when he’s saying it. Is it weird that you want him to say it over and over until you die? His footsteps toward the desk are muffled; your heart is too busy pounding at your eardrums.

"How long are you staying for?" He asks.

The pounding stops. Your car’s abandoned in God knows where. You have a dead phone and a job that’s guaranteed to end after today. You chew on your lip. ‘Forever’ isn’t a booking option, right?

"Put me in for the weekend," you say. This is assuming you’ll have your shit together by then. Though, you aren’t so sure. "I can extend my stay whenever, right?"

"Mhm," he hums as he types. "Just let me know before your check-out time on Sunday at 12. Can I get your number?"

"Pardon?"

"Your number," he repeats. "So I can remind you about check-out and the events we’re hosting. And for emergencies, obviously."

Oh. That’s what he needs it for.

Your heart is back to pounding like mad. You give him the digits, trying to glue whatever’s left of your composure together. Why must the universe embarrass you in front of a man so handsome?

"Great. You’re all set." The innkeeper smiles, handing you a brass key and a business card. When he finishes at the counter, he steps forward, nearly closing the gap between you. The proximity feels just as inappropriate as his staring, but he smells…sweet.

It’s familiar, too, but his forehead colliding with yours keeps you from figuring it out. He was only reaching for the bags at your sides. You exchange your “ows” and sorries, and both of you are reluctant to leave the bubble you’ve created. But eventually, Lily’s dad is taking your bags upstairs.

You’re right behind him, but it feels as if there’s a magnet drawing you to him. You wonder if he’s choosing to ignore it because you don’t see those brown eyes again until he’s dropped your bags in front of the door.

"The Wi-Fi password is on the business card." He boyishly shoves his hands into his pockets but looks as if he's forgotten something. Suddenly, he shoves a large hand between your bodies.

"Alex. My name," he shakes his head, quickly correcting himself. "I mean, my name is Alex. Alexander, if you want."

Smiling, you take his hand, calloused and covered in flour. "Thank you, Alexander."

Alex’s eyes widen, and you get to see that smile again. If Alex were a puppy, his tail would wag a thousand miles, and his ears would perk up. It makes you want to give him head pats and ruffle his tousled hair.

"The pleasure’s all mine," he heads back down the hall but stops somewhere in the middle, taking that sweet scent with him. "Any questions? Concerns? You can text me if anything."

"Yeah. What’s with your business cards?"

He chuckles, flashing a heart-melting smile before disappearing down the hallway. "WWI doesn't look good on most business papers."

You’d do anything to hear that chuckle again. With that, you turn the keys and enter your suite, the room bathed in the warm glow of afternoon sunlight. A welcoming basket rests on the bed, filled with soaps, fall candles, and cookies - one shaped like a ghost and another a pumpkin.

You lean against the door for a moment, attempting to calm the butterflies in your stomach, and then, you realise—it’s cookies. Alex smells like cookies.

—

Alexander has the posture of a banana. That pumpkin must’ve done a number on him. Watching him set the table makes your back hurt, and you want to get up and straighten his back yourself. But when he’s dressed like that, you find it hard to be mad at him.

You'd forgotten about Halloween until you left the suite. Someone's responsible for the caution tape draped across your door and the fake cobwebs you tripped over when coming downstairs. Alex apologised for it, stating, "I let Lily do the decorating. Sorry."

All is forgiven. I mean, how could you not forgive him when he’s dressed as Mario? Hat, gloves, stupid moustache over his beard and everything. There's nothing more charming than a man committed to a bit. Footsteps and rustling fabric fill the room as Princess Peach, earlier known as Lily, rushes to her dad’s side.

"Daddy, I washed my hands!" She exclaims with excitement. "Can I help now?"

"Did you wash your hands with soap, Miss Toadstool?" Alex asks, raising a brow.

Lily looks down at her hands, then books it back into the kitchen. You almost choke on your coffee from holding back a laugh. From behind, Alex lays a hand on your shoulder, squeezing with assurance.

"Don’t worry. She didn't make your coffee. You can help me out if you want."

You set down your mug, smiling. "Anything for the Mushroom Kingdom."

When Alex takes you to the kitchen, the aroma of breakfast is there with warm greetings. Freshly brewed coffee mingles deliciously with the scent of muffins and bacon. You’re embarrassed when your stomach growls a bit too loud, and you swear you catch a chuckle from Alex. It deepens your blush.

The morning sun shines through the window, casting a golden hue on the countertops, and Lily, on a pink step stool, is washing her hands with way too much soap. The bubbles threaten to spill out of the sink, and she’s adorably unaware of the chaos she’s creating.

It's…quite grand. A thing so tiny and cute, making the hottest innkeeper you've met go grey before your eyes? Your heart swells. It's amazing. You can't get this anywhere else.

Alex lifts her off the stool, her hands dripping with suds. "Alright, Princess Peach," he says, setting her on the ground, "the Mushroom Kingdom just passed an ordinance. It’s the Stop Giving Daddy Anxiety law, and it starts today."

—

When was the last time you shared a kitchen with someone? Did you feel yourself wanting to float off the ground? Well, Alex makes it hard to stay grounded. Standing next to him, dicing fruit doesn’t feel like a group project you want to avoid. Unlike at your job, you don’t feel as if you’re trying to complete the picture. You’re already there.

Alex talks about Lily like she’s his best friend. Three days ago, she lost a tooth and got upset when Alex left her just one dollar. You don’t blame the girl, so you took her side.

“A dollar?” you ask in disbelief. “Do you hate her or something?”

He grins, embarrassment colouring his cheeks. “Is that not the standard Tooth Fairy rate?”

"Have you heard of inflation? That dollar won't mean anything in a few years. You're setting her up for disaster."

Alex chuckles, shaking his head. "I’ll adjust my fairy budget accordingly."

Lily is also in little league soccer, and she begged him to replace her shoelaces with ribbons. She’s a goalie. The only vegetable she eats without protests is carrots, and ever since this discovery, he’s been growing them in the inn’s garden.

In contrast, when you ask Alex about himself, you can see him searching for the words, almost as if he’s trying to remember who he is. You ask, "What made you want to run an inn?" and you can practically hear the Final Jeopardy music playing in his head.

"I like taking care of people," he says earnestly. "It’s a disease."

You laugh softly, but Alex’s eyes glint with a sincerity that’s hard to miss. "I’m an only child, so I’ve been taken care of for most of my life. Then, I had my kid and…the rest is instinct, I suppose."

He pauses, his gaze dropping to the cutting board. "I've had a whirlwind of a life. Messed around where I shouldn't. Deep down, I want control amidst the oddities of my...brain. So, I grew a beard, moved to the woods, and I have an inn. Seemed destined for it, really."

His honesty is refreshing, but he “messed around” where he shouldn’t have? This guy? The one with the cute kid that makes your heart leap? Maybe in another universe, he’s a dick. But right now, Alex’s words aren’t aligning with him. The infectious, steady calmness around him doesn’t match—and dare you say—the facade.

"Do I want to know where you’ve messed around?” You ask, unable to hide your scepticism.

Alex looks up, a wry smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "That’s between me and my therapist."

“So I’ll ask Lily,” you joke. “Got it.”

He laughs, and this time, it’s genuine. "She can't share patient information, but I’m willing to compromise. I have a pumpkin that needs carving. An extra set of hands never hurt, no? Help me, and I’ll talk to you."

You finish up with the last of the fruit, carefully placing it into a bowl. "Deal. Would these extra sets of hands hurt when I do this?" you ask, moving behind him.

You gently place your hands on his shoulders and align his back to perfection. Alex winces, but the goosebumps on his neck tell another story.

"Your disease is infectious," you say, taking the bowl and heading into the dining area. "Needed to take care of you."

As he adjusts to his new posture, Alex continues slicing his portion of fruit with a foolish, love-struck grin across his face. The idiot doesn't even realise the bananas are still in the peel.

—

Whiskey Way’s garden is a lush and tranquil sight. On an old, sprawling oak tree, the leaves turn to vibrant shades of red, orange and yellow, creating a colourful canopy ahead. Beds of chrysanthemums replace the summer blooms, their colours fitting right in with the fall palette.

A quaint stone path scattered with fallen leaves spirals through the garden, leading to the porch where you and Alex sit. It overlooks the vegetable patch where Lily's carrots and rows of rosemary, thyme and other herbs grow—their earthy scents sprinkling into the cool air.

Being here feels deliberate. You may not have found Whiskey Way by accident. And it’s certainly not a mistake that Alex brought you to what you’d deem the most mushy-gushy romantic place to spill his guts.

Speaking of guts, you’re knee-deep in pumpkin innards and seeds while Alex is going on about a UFO podcast he listens to in the morning. He’s a tad disappointed that since he’s started gardening, he hasn’t seen a crop circle.

"So they’re real?" You ask, dumping seeds and pumpkin guts into a bucket.

"Visitors?" Alex says this in disbelief, as if you’re asking if breathing is a human necessity. "Yes. Absolutely. They’re real."

"But have you seen one?" You raise a brow, and adorably, he blushes.

"Admittedly, no. But I want to believe in them. Even if they aren’t real, I’m having fun pretending." He turns to you, eyes shining like a boy on Christmas. "What about you? Do you believe?"

You’re compelled to say yes, but only to please the little boy behind those eyes. "I believe, Agent Mulder."

"Thank you, Scully."

When Lily turned three, Alex was diagnosed with depression. As he talks, you can see the walls forming, his eyes unsteady, and his voice trembling. But conversely, you watch as he throws a hammer at each one, breaking them down. You’re as awestruck as you are envious.

What does Alex know about you?

“Can I ask you something?” you say. Alex nods, his hands stilling on the pumpkin.

“What—” you almost bite your tongue. “What does it feel like?”

Alex looks down at the empty pumpkin, pondering your question before speaking. He sets down the carving knife and turns to face you, eyes meeting yours.

"You're a carpenter, and you've built yourself a house. It isn't your best work. You've done better in the past, but there's a roof over your head, so you don't complain. Then, a storm happens. Your roof has some holes and a leak. You patch them up and go about your day. It's not an issue.

“The day after, the storm gets worse. The holes are bigger, and the thunder keeps you from sleeping. You’re exhausted from the first time you've repaired everything. Your patchwork is sloppy this time, but the holes are covered, so you go to bed.

"The storm only gets worse. Your roof is missing, and the water is at your ankles. You can open a door or a window, but if you do, you'll flood the town and everyone in it. So you stay home. You're freezing. You're aching. And the house keeps flooding with you in it."

"Do you feel like that all the time?"

Alex shrugs. "On a good day, I’m lightweight. The garden isn’t neglected. My body isn’t either. Lily, the guests I have. It’s a day where I can...disrobe. A good day feels like today."

The wind rustles the oak tree’s leaves as you prepare to fill the silence, your voice barely a whisper.

"Are you…going to be okay?"

"I’ll be alright."

Alex loves the garden. He's said it about three times. When silence falls between the two of you, Alex would look out into the field, and it wasn’t to shy away from you or an awkward habit. It was his anchor. It kept him grounded, and you can feel yourself sinking with him.

—

Tonight, for the first time since you’ve entered the cosy cavern of Whiskey Way, you’re questioning your colouring abilities. Lily's got it down pat; in fact, she’s the one telling you to stay inside the lines. To be fair, she is the one wearing a crown. Lily's working on a giraffe on the left page, and you’re colouring an elephant on the right.

“Lily,” you pause, peering at her page, “Why’s your giraffe pink?”

“Because.” She keeps her eyes fixed on her masterpiece.

“Because...?”

“Because I said so.” Fair enough.

Also, for the first time, Alex is nowhere to be found. After the pumpkin carving, he’d gone off to prepare for the trick-or-treaters tonight, even though the inn doesn’t get much traction on Halloween. In his own words: “Lily gets a head start on candy, and we get a bowl of candy. Everybody wins.”

There’s something about Alex’s adding of “we” that makes it hard to conceal your smile. Whilst you’re smiling like the biggest idiot, Lily's finishing up her giraffe. She chooses yellow for the spots. What a kid.

“I heard the Tooth Fairy did you dirty.”

“Yeah,” Lily pouts, continuing her colouring. “I only got a dollar.”

“Well, what if I told you I’m…” you trail off, thinking. What is going on between you and her dad? “A close friend of the Tooth Fairy? I promise that you’ll get five dollars the next time you lose a tooth.”

“Five?!” she beams, and you see where that missing tooth ought to be. “Really?”

You draw a cross along your heart. “I swear.”

Alex comes downstairs with a pink, sparkly backpack slung over his shoulder, but Lily intercepts him before he can touch the last step. “Daddy! Guess what!”

Alex raises an eyebrow, looking over at you. "Oh, really? Who made you this promise?" The words are meant for you, and even though your cover is blown, you still try to hold back your laughter.

“It’s a secret,” Lily whispers, giggling.

He chuckles, blushing. "Ah, I see. Keep your secrets. Let's get your shoes on. Mummy's coming to get you, kid."

Alex places her down on the reception desk before grabbing a pair of tiny combat boots from the front door, their laces replaced with pink ribbons. Ribbons must be a Lily signature. As Alex puts the shoes on her feet, you notice he's ditched his costume, donning pyjama pants and a knit sweater, looking more huggable than usual. He's also looking paler than he usually does, tying Lily's laces at an intentional, slow pace. You even see his hands shake.

Alex isn’t ready to let her go.

"You’re gonna bring me lots of candy when you get back, yeah?" He asks.

“Mhm!” Lily nods, all enthusiastic.  

“Good,” Alex finishes tying the left shoe. “Don’t eat any candy before bed. Especially the Twizzlers. Those are for Daddy.”

You and Lily both laugh. “Kay,” Lily says.

The front door creaks open, and the crisp evening air sweeps in. A heeled boot clicks along the floors of the inn, stopping at the reception desk near Lily and Alex. With dark hair cascading down her back and legs for days, you aren’t sure if she scares you or if you want to be her. The world feels like it’s stopped spinning.

Alex ties the right shoe tight enough to make Lily kick. He squeezes her foot to apologise and sets her down, swallowing the visibly large lump in his throat.

You get it. You totally get it.

“She got you to do the ribbons on the boots, too?“ The woman scoffs, taking the backpack from Alex. “Jesus. We might as well buy her clothes at the craft store.“

“Kat,“ Alex says. “Try saying no to that face.”

As Alex gestures to Lily, Kat rolls her eyes, but a hint of a smile tugs at her lips. “Unlike you, I am immune to the charms of a six-year-old girl,“ she looks down at Lily. “Even if she is cute. Lilybug! Ready to get some candy?”

Lily only hears the word ‘candy’. “I am! I am!“ She’s practically bouncing with excitement.

“Stop calling her that,“ Alex’s tone faux-firm. “She wrote it on a test paper.“ Alex kneels down to Lily's level, kissing his palm and pressing it to her cheek. “See you when I see you. And be good.”

She nods and runs over to Kat, waiting with hands folded over her chest. “Now, Lily. When someone tells you to be good, you do everything you can to be on your worst behaviour. Ain’t that right, Daddy-O?”

“Get out of my inn, Katherine.”

Kat sticks her tongue out. “Alex, why do you hate fun? C’mon Lily, let’s go get some eggs, and I’ll show you some real Halloween fun.”

“Katherine,” Alex warns.

“I’m kidding! Kidding! I’m capable of making jokes, Alex!” Kat says, throwing her hands up in surrender. Her eyes drop to Lily, a playful smile on her lips. “But we’re gonna have fun. Don’t worry.”

And with that, they’re off. Alex lingers by the door for a bit, waving to Lily until she’s out of sight. Once she is, he sighs, hanging his head low before turning to you. This is the first time his smile makes your heart sink.

“Sorry you can’t be with them tonight.” You say.

Alex shrugs, “Eh. I’ll see her later in the week. We got a…co-parenting thing goin’ on. But let’s not drift away from what really matters.”

You look around the room, your face getting warmer. “And that is?”

“You told my daughter I’d give her five dollars. She gonna act like she won Who Wants to Be a Millionaire. You know that, right?”

Relieved, you chuckle. “Be glad I didn’t say 100.”

—

You don’t recall when it got so hot. The fireplace is roaring as usual, and you haven’t complained. Not once. Right now, you need a fire department to put you out. Alex is only getting closer—not that you mind—but he isn’t making it easy to focus. His pinky wiggles next to your palm, wanting nothing more than to intertwine with yours.

Each time he "adjusts" his position on the floor beside you, the scent of his aftershave feels only inches away. If one of you sneezes, it could cause a forehead kiss. Your first kiss with Alex won't be an accident, though. You can feel it.

“So,” Alex begins, “And I mean this in the kindest way possible, I believe you owe me, Little Miss.”

You furrow your brows, confused. “Be specific, Tooth Fairy.”

He changes his position again, sitting crisscross in front of you. “The garden. I told you everything. Now, I think you should return the favour.”

You suck in a breath, but it feels more laboured than usual. Fuck. Do you have to?

“I-I don’t know where to start.” You say, twiddling your thumbs.

Alex takes your hand, laying it flat against his. With his other hand, he gently brushes your knuckles. “That’s alright. I have a plan. For each fact you tell me, I’ll give you a kiss. With your permission, of course.”

He likes a stipulation. Even in your sweaty, nervous state, you can’t refuse. “You like making me work for it, huh? Okay. Permission granted.”

“Alright,” Alex says, kissing your knuckles. “That’s one kiss. Talk to me.”

A smile tugs at your lips, but a dry, hard lump lodges in your throat. “From certain angles, I think you look like Al Pacino. Not a bad thing! Obviously!” Those final five words slip out before your brain can stop them. Jesus. An icebreaker? Now? You’ll be dead of embarrassment before he gets to kiss you.

“So I’ve been told,” He says with a smile. Alex opens your palm, pressing a kiss to it. “Keep going.”

You clear your throat, shuffling uncomfortably on the rug. “Um...okay. I have a degree in marketing, and I work in advertising.” You hesitate, then add, “So, I think your business cards suck.”

Alex chuckles, rolling up the sleeve of your sweater to kiss your wrist. Every bone in his body is disgustingly romantic, isn’t it? “Perhaps you can help me fix them. Now, give me something good.”

Good? Your heart is racing like a wild stallion, so fast and hard that you forget there’s a fire crackling behind you. Is vulnerable...good? Honesty? Does he really want that? You can’t pull the plug. You’ve buried yourself too deep. Or, that’s what the anxiety is telling you.

You recall your surroundings as Alex leans in and kisses your jaw. The firelight casts flickering shadows along the walls and over his handsome face. He’s getting closer, his breath warm against your skin. And God, are his lips soft.

“I’m listening.” He whispers. Alex can see your goosebumps.

You look down to still see Alex’s hand in yours. You squeeze it, bile stinging your throat. “I’m here because my car broke down. I missed a meeting and everything, but now...I literally don’t know what to do.”

Alex doesn’t kiss you, but allows you to continue.

“It’s weird. I feel weird. My job treats me like shit, but I keep going. My car treats me like shit, but I keep going. I put myself in these places where I don’t feel welcomed, and I keep staying. I’m still paying all my bills from school, and I’m waiting for everything to just...stop. But it won’t. And I’m scared. I’m so fucking scared, Alex. I don’t know what to do.”

Tears well up in your eyes, and you try your damnedest, but they’re streaming down your cheeks. Your chest feels tight, making every breath shallow and strained, as if your lungs are being squeezed. Alex only holds your hand, and truthfully, it’s all you need. You lean over and rest your head on his shoulder, and you can feel the stability you’ve longed for.

“I,” you start. “I don’t want to be alone, Alex.”

Alex kisses your head before resting his chin on your scalp. “It’s a good thing you aren’t, right?”

—

“Your checkout time is in three hours.”

That’s not what you want to hear. And waking up in Alex’s arms makes it more of an offence. You aren’t prepared to go, and he isn’t ready to let you leave, either. Like in the garden, it feels deliberate. You’re meant to be with Alex right now.

The curtains billow in the breeze, the sun’s rays filtering through and bathing the room in the morning light. His fingers trace lazy patterns along your back, and you think this is his way of saying he wants more time.

“I haven’t checked my phone since I’ve been here,” you say, but you don’t sound as worried as you should. “My boss is gonna kill me.”

“You’re still on about that job?” Alex asks, sitting up. “From what you’ve told me, they don’t seem to care too much.”

Your arms close around his middle, and you bury your face in his chest. “If you’re asking if I’m still on about having my rent and bills paid, then yes. I’ll keep yapping.”

He lets out a dry chuckle. “You can yap until I’m deaf in both ears. I won’t get tired,” he pauses, kissing your head. “But the subject of your yapping isn’t making you happy.”

You gently and repeatedly bump your forehead against his chest, letting out a groan. Alex isn’t wrong, but he shouldn’t say it.

Alex is a great guy. He has a cute kid, a full head of hair, emotionally aware and candid. He’s the kind of person you write poetry about or have posters of plastered on your wall. The inn is a warm, big bear hug with all the coffee and fireside chats you could want. It’s fairytale perfect—a fantasy. Why does it feel real? If everything is so right, how can it be real? Maybe you’ve been deprived of the “good” for too long that you only want to revel in it. And why is that a bad thing?

“What should I do?” You whine, dragging the “o”.

Alex shuffles to sit upright, and you move with him, settling in his lap. “Do you want my selfish little boy answer, or my adult answer?”

“Give me the fun one first.”

He laughs, a sound like warm honey, releasing a sigh. “I’ll give you both. Go home and figure your shit out. I’ll help you find your car and everything. I will always be here when you want to come back. That’s the adult answer.” You nod. “Or, you can stay with me and—”

You cut him off with a kiss. The warmth of his lips, the lingering flavour of coffee still dancing on his tongue, the strength of his hands pulling you near—it all makes the moment seem so...vivid. You aren’t wrong for wanting a fairytale ending in your fairytale place. Besides, Alex looks good in rose tint.

Pulling back, your breath ragged, you meet Alex’s gaze - a mixture of surprise and something else that sends a jolt of heat through your body. “I’m glad we had this talk,” he murmurs, his lips brushing yours. “Very productive.”

Your hands glide from his stomach onto his shoulders, pulling him into another kiss. “We’re done talking.”

For the next three hours, you don’t want to think. Unless it’s about Alex. And his hands going up the t-shirt he lent you for the night. They’re still calloused and eager to please. You moan as he fondles and squeezes your breasts with a gentleness you wouldn’t expect from his rough palms.

Alex’s fingers twist and pinch your nipples in response, and you grind into his lap. His pulse thumps against your tongue, a wild, relentless beat that races beyond your own. It’s a heady mix. The heat of his skin, the taste of him—it leaves you breathless.

He breaks the kiss to remove your shirt, leaning forward until you’re pinned against the bed. “Listen,” he stops to kiss you again. “I want to,” another kiss, “Really, I do. I want you. Terribly. But on my meds, I can’t…Jesus, this is embarrassing.”

Your fingers trace the contours of his face, his blush deepening, and he eventually nuzzles into your neck, his beard tickling your skin. “That’s okay, baby. Don’t be embarrassed.”

To apologise, he plants lingering kisses on your neck, his fingertips ghosting the lace of your panties. “We’ve got next time, yeah? And I promise, when it happens, I am going to fuck you senseless.”

Your toes curl up against the sheets as your underwear dampens. He shouldn’t say things like that when he can’t fuck you senseless. You card your fingers through his hair, pulling just to tease. “Remember, you promised.”

The flimsy lace finally slides down your hips. Your skin prickles with goosebumps, in part of the cold air and the nakedness you feel—physical and in a deeper sense. Alex kneels over you and takes you in, like a painting he already knows the meaning of. His fingers glide along your folds, and you suck in a sharp breath, shuddering.

“I think,” He begins as he sinks a finger inside you. “I think you’re crazy beautiful.”

For a moment, it’s uncomfortable. You haven’t had too many guys before Alex, and you’ve grown accustomed to your own fingers. His fingers are longer and wider than yours, and they pump in and out of you with a feeling your lust clouded head can’t place. You moan as the pace quickens, spreading your legs further.

“Fuck,” he hisses. “Do you get this wet for other guys?” No, you don’t. It almost feels unnatural. You shake your head. “I must be lucky. So fuckin’ lucky. You want more?”

“Yes,” you breathe. “Please.”

He adds another finger, and you feel full already. Fuck. It’s too good. What is it again? Is it lightning? Electricity? An inferno swallowing you whole? Your hips are moving on their own, and your breathing is out of sync. Alex’s thumb brushes against your clit, and you moan, trying to curb the warmth in your stomach.

“Is this how you want me to fuck you?” He cups your face with his freehand. “Tell me. How do you want me?”

Hard. Slow and steady. You don’t know anymore. It’s a lot. You’re wetter than you’ve ever been. The quilt is damp with your sweat, and your back is arching off the mattress. Your nerves are on fire, and it’s all unfamiliar to you. You’d never reach these heights before, not with anyone or yourself.

It can't happen. Not yet. It's too soon.

All you want is for Alex to keep going. You want to tell him what you want. But before you find the words, clouds of white obscure your vision. Another moan escapes your lips as you feel your walls closing around his fingers. Tight. Fluttering. And the feeling is otherworldly.

As your body collapses onto the bed, the heat of tears begins to well in the corners of your eyes. Instinctively, your hands fly to your face, hiding it in pure embarrassment. May lightning strike you down swiftly and mercilessly. You weren’t supposed to do that.

“I-I’m sorry.”

“What are you apologising for?”

There’s a hint of a snicker in Alex’s voice. Ugh. Yuck. You burrow your head deep into one of his pillows. They smell like him. Like allspice.

“I…finished. Quick.”

His arms come around you in a comforting, snuggly, knit sweater squeeze. It makes it hard to be mad at his laughter, which is a lot more obvious with your bodies glued together.

Damn him and that sweet, honeyed laughter.

“So? Who cares?” He kisses your temple, rubbing your forearms reassuringly. “Did you enjoy it?”

“Yes, but—”

“Then don’t worry about it. I promised you a next time. Don’t forget.” As he rolls out of bed, you miss him already. “I’ll run you a bath or a shower. Anything you want.”

You curl into a fetal position. “Just leave me here to die, please.”

His voice grows distant as he enters the en-suite bathroom. You miss him even more. “As long as I am here, you will not die. I have nowhere to hide your body, anyway.”

You smile into the pillow. It’s stupid. You want to flail your legs around like a giddy teenager. So stupid.

The sound of the shower starting gives you a moment to gather your composure. That, and to be a little nosy. Pulling your shirt on, you leisurely stroll around Alex's room, hoping to find a shiny object or a book of curses. Whatever. Something to keep you from missing him while he's in the shower.

His desk catches your eye. It even has a swivel chair. Nice.

On the overhead shelf, there’s a line of books. Mainly literature, with poetry sprinkled in. They seem like interesting reads, but your knowledge doesn’t extend much beyond The Wonderful Wizard of Oz and Parenting for Dummies. In the free space beside the books, a nearly completed Lego Batmobile sits. You smile, running a finger over the tiny bricks.

Nerd.

On the desk, there’s an open notepad. He’s titled a page as “Anyways”, with several lines crossed out—an obvious work in progress. One line remains: Baby, you go hard in the paint!

A framed photo catches your attention. It's Lily and Kat. Lily's in her pink soccer uniform, perched on Kat's shoulders. They look happy—maybe she'd just won a game. You wonder which one of them Alex misses the most.

As you continue to explore, a stack of papers half-hidden under a book catches your eye. Curiosity piqued, you pull them out, and your heart sinks. The heading reads: Introduction to Uncontested Divorce Instructions. What You Need to Know Before Starting Your Divorce Action.

[meiguicha]

Hear My Love

Sunday x Reader - Idol AU

begged so hard he's e1s1 <3

Love's Song

Maybe this little crush of yours is driving you crazy, but there had to be a reason for your madnes and you could not possibly explain this ecstacy that came along seeing dusty blue hair and golden rings.

Even if you can see nothing but his obscured head, just catching a peek of his form is enough for your heart to sing in your chest. This couldn't be normal, oh this really couldn't be normal!

You'd just see him in that far off perch waving a lightstick along and it was like your every vein would be filled with the energy to keep going on and smiling. And whenever you saw him during a fanmeet, you already knew you'd spend the rest of the day giddy, high off the feeling of getting to be so close to him.

Even when you can't see him, you can feel his devotion through the loving stitches of your Darling's clothes, the timely reposts upon the fanpage, the critical yet adoring analysis of your songs. The dedication attributed to every single little thing was just the extra balm to your already soothed heart, and like a fool, you can do nothing but yearn after an anonymous fan.

It was under this infatuation that once more, like a fool, your hand had composed and your voice had sung. Hidden away from the eyes of even the most prying of eyes, a song sits in the depths of your archive crooning your most sincere longing.

But if you were allowed to even be a smidge more honest, you couldn't help but to mentally place Sunday's face onto your faceless fan. It isn't hard to, similar hair colours, both being halovians, both being absolute gentlemen, even the conviction they showed. Besides, it put a face to Restdaysfordarling, and your imaginative brain certainly enjoyed that concept. Maybe you'd be a little embarrassed to admit but, your dreams always seem to meld the two together.

It wasn't as if Sunday could ever be your ultimate fan. That isn't possible.

As your thoughts wander off to a land not even known to you, from far off into the distance, you notice a familiar halo. And as though a part of a coordinated choreography, just enough of the seas of people part enough for you to be granted a full view of the ever empyrean Sunday.

With a subtle saunter, you made your way towards his direction, sweeping a glass flute into your gloved hand as you do so. You will not approach, not now. So you sit, waiting for the perfect moment to slip in and drink in the presence of the man so similar to your love.

In some odd twist of the Aeons' hands, your eyes catch onto something they weren't meant to. Nothing big, not some noticeable red flag that anyone would immediately recognise. Of course, you aren't just anyone.

That little corner of fabric, soft satin of pearly white with delicate trims of lace, peeked out from his chest pocket. Most damning of all yet was the elegantly embroidery on the corners.

This was just a coincidence right? Maybe something Robin gave him as a freebie? But that wouldn't make sense, merch like that are limited edition and well, she's just not that kind of friend. No matter your relationship, you'd not expect her to fork over the thousands of credits nor time needed to even obtain one.

A collaboration you had done a while ago, special handkerchieves, ties and scarves designed by your own hand and brought to life. Only 50 of each were made, and well, you'd spent so long slaving over the sketches it'd be embarassing to not recognise it.

Your heart drums with some odd combination of fear, relief and bliss. This illustrious person who had seemed so unreacheable, had in the midst of his busy life had taken the time to support a nobody like you. And suddenly your dreams that had turned two into one, made all the more sense.

He approaches, and how you long to let the fountain of eternal ardour spill with your effervescent greetings. Yet still, you let not even the slightest hint of your discovery known.

"I'd like your opinion on a matter, if you don't mind?" Tucking your excitement behind a veil of sunny joy, you send Sunday a soft squeeze of your eyes as you chirp, "Robin has told me of your musical inclination and I am in need of a third pair of ears."

"I could trust no one else more with this."

With that last hammer into the coffin, the hesitation that had originally milled behind long lashes and cordial smiles, seem to seep away as something else, an emotion much more volatile than dithering takes its place.

After what seems like an eternity, he obliges, "It would be my honour."

His voice, one hidden by a mask and another honed for public perfection ring simultaneously in your ears. In the abyss of archival emotion, shrouded amongst burning elation and heavy sorrow is something far, far more nonsensical.

Today, you present to the man you thought too perfect, to the man you thought too endearing, your everything.

To Restdaysfordarling, to Sunday, to your dearest and most devoted fan, to someone who dedicates his all to everything he touches, please hear the voice that calls and thanks you.

And please, accept this love you sing.

[starlightsuffered]

Possessive

Info - mommy kink, possessive sub, jealousy, knife kink, cutting body (not as SH), branding, dry humping, breast suckling, blood licking, cumming in pants, pain kink, a little baby talk

“You want this don’t you baby boy?” I asked him. He looked so nervous. His dark hair was damp with sweat. His long pale fingers were shaking as they held the switch blade.

This was a heady experience. I was under him. He held a sharpened dagger, and I had every bit of the power.

I caressed his sharp angles. He turned his head so he kissed my palm. He nuzzled into it like a cat. He was such a sweet boy, but I also liked the dark possessive side he had. I knew I could bring it out with a little bit of coaxing.

“Don’t you remember how those boys were looking at me at your Quidditch match?” I cooed. His face instantly twisted. He looked angry.

I smirked at him. He was holding his weapon more steadily now. He bit his bottom lip.

“You’re not theirs,” he said in a low voice.

“No I'm not,” I said in a coo. “But they were looking at me quite a lot.”

“Mmmm,” he nearly growled. His cock twitched though both of us were clothed other than my shirt that laid on the dormitory floor.

“You loved that outfit, remember Reggie?” I asked him. I ran my hand down his tanned arm. Some of him was more golden now that it was qudditch season. He remained wiry but there was something muscle here and there.

“I do,” he shuddered, the bulge in his pants growing ever so slightly. He was so damn easy.

“The colours of your house. Those small, itty bitty green and silver triangles covering mommy’s hard nipples. Those tiny little black shorts that showed off my bum. The one you love to bury your face in and feast.”

“Ohhhh mommy,” he moaned. He let himself close his eyes and hump a little between my legs. All the while I rubbed his thighs.

“But all those boys were looking at allll my mommy parts,” I reminded him. His hips stopped jerking and his eyes flew open.

“No! Tu es ma maman, seulement la mienne!” He nearly shouted. He always turned to French in frustration.

“Then make it Offcial angel boy,” I hummed. “Mark mommy as yours.”

“You sure?” He panted. His eyes were glowing and wild.

“I look good in red dont I?” I chuckled.

“Sooooo good mommy,” he melted. “You look beautiful in everything though mon amour.”

“Thank you baby, now do what you want please. Claim your mommy. Mark me as yours and only yours. I know you want mommy forever. If you brand me, I’ll never forget who my subby baby is,” I explained.

“Right,” he nodded with determination.

He took the knife and placed it to an area just under my breasts. He began to carve the words I’d instructed him to write. “Mommy of R.A.B”

It stung a little but the sensation was mostly pleasurable. I felt my baby boy’s cock absolutely straining and throbbing as he marked me. He knew the scar would make everyone at his Quidditch match wide eyed with disbelief. He would thrill at the idea of me being so claimed, and so his.

“It’s bleeding,” he mumbled anxiously.

“Lick up your mess then,” I told him, grabbing the hair on the back of his head and guiding him. He gasped with lust at the taste of me.

“This is so…. So intimate mommy. I’m so leaky,” he admitted.

“I know baby, you’re doing so well. You can suckle and lick my scar whenever you want. I know you love having a mommy all for you,” I soothed his worried thoughts of me leaving him one day.

I palmed him over his pants as he finished his job. I looked down and saw the bloody letter that were upside down to me. Regulus dipped to lap up blood again.

He looked sexy with his lips swollen from biting and dark red staining them. His hair fell in front of his eyes and he looked pitiful. However, he was also excited because he knew what came next. If he was possessive I was doubly so, and I wasn’t going to let him get away without his own brand.

He laid against me. He took a deep inhale of my skin. Finally, he took off my bra, releasing my breasts. A muffled noise of need escaped him. His lips wrapped around my hard nipple. He relaxed into me and began to suck.

I would be writing “mommy’s property” on his back between his collar bones. I hoped I wouldn’t hurt too much. I wanted to mark him, but I didn’t want it to be hurtful and not arousing. He was still rock hard against me so I assumed he was good.

He was still eagerly suckling and melting fully into me. He was always his happiest on my breast. I set the sharp tip against his soft skin.

“This is it baby boy. I’ll really own you now, I have a permanent mark on your skin. You’re all mine forever. I’m going to brand you, and everyone will know you’re a sweet little mommy’s boy.”

“Ohhhhh, mommy,” he said in a muffled voice.

I began to carve into his skin. I made the first line of the capital M and something unexpected but amazing happened. Regulus groaned in the most high pitched whine I’d ever heard. He humped forward, and I felt warmth begin to spread on his crotch. He bucked and whimpered throughout the unexpected orgasm.

“Awwww, baby, did you make cummies without meaning to?” I asked, petting his hair.

“Sorry mommy,” he sniffed. “I liked the pain more than I thought.”

@pmak2002 @softhecreator @plutoispurplw @sp1deyyf4ngz @seungcheol17daddy @jesschalamet t @vvsdreaming

[signedeclipse]

gyutaro, douma and gyokko going to an uppermoon meeting full of lipstick stain and hickeys. - 💀 

Douma

Normally he has all long sleeves and a high collar shirt, so a lot of his skin is hidden

Specifically wears something more revealing so they all show

Epitome of "See? Someone loves ME and not YOU."

Totally has this eat-shit grin about it too, because he knows being in his position its not like many would retaliate against him other than Muzan

And Muzan does not care, really

It only adds to his dislike-ability of the second rank

Most the kisses and marks are on his hands and arms because you seem to love his hands so damned much

So he flails them a little more than usual just to shove it in others face a little more

He will never not be proud of you

Besides, you are in a worse state than him, he barely left an inch of skin untouched

Gyokko

He loves the pattern your lipstick marks leave on him, enough that he's probably made pots that mimic the shape of your lips exactly because they are just so inspiring

You always wear a pale pink lipstick that looks so dull next to all his extravagant colours, but it still appears nicely on his white skin

All over his face, his chest, his back

It was hard to imagine how exactly they got in some places, and the others at the meeting kept their eyes far away from him

They could have been from days ago, he didn't remove them on purpose- in fact, i'm sure he is able to preserve them as actual patterns on his skin alongside his scales

His blush matches the colour exactly, that dull pink

He's always smiling but this time even more so

I can't imagine the state of you, he has twice the number of mouths to kiss with but also that bright green lipstick

You are probably covered in them from head to toe and still at home trying to wipe it off

Lipstick is hard to remove

Gyutaro

Any hickeys kind of just blend in with his skin blemishes from a far away glance but the cherry red lips do not hide on his pale complexion

Most are centred on his face, at the corner of his lips and all over his cheeks before trailing down his neck

And what is he going to do, hide them? He never really wears clothes so it'd look like he's hiding something

Fortunately the only person in an upper moon meeting that would say anything is Douma and the only one that looks at him is Muzan

Muzan couldn't care less what his demons do so long as they are on task, maybe scoffs

Douma would ask so many questions but we all know Gyu would wave him off and kind of just walk away

The only person he would be scared of noticing is Daki

Because upper moon meetings are usually uncalled for he didn't expect to be taken right from your loving arms and tossed here

Authors Note - Requesting Gyokko is how you get +1 admiration point from me, I love this prompt too! Clearly you've been stocking them up lol

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Rock, Meet Hard Place 2

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your boss makes a deal that proves less than beneficial for you.

Characters: Nick Fowler, Lloyd Hansen

Author’s Note: This is what you asked for so don’t even.

Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself 💜

“Nick the dick. How’s it hanging? Little to the left? I’m a bit to the right myself,” Hansen strides into the room 

His arrival isn’t a quiet one. Fowler’s men put up the alert at their approach and their fearless leader spent several minutes fidgeting in agitated anticipation. As his adversary turned ally walks in, Fowler is already standing, coolly sipping from his whiskey. You’re glad he got it together. You don’t need him cracking right now. 

“Hansen,” Fowler lowers the glass. “Safe travels?” 

“Ah, ya know, got here with my foreskin on,” the mustached man chortles. 

You stare at him. Somehow, you’re not surprised by the trim along his upper lip. He would be the type. You stand quietly by the wall, observing. 

“And this must be the viper,” Hansen points as he turns to face you, “don’t think I didn’t notice you over there, sugar lips. Mm, a bit older than I expected but I don’t mind a vintage.” 

“Hansen,” Fowler girds. 

“Say, got enough of that to go around,” he flicks his index in Fowler’s direction, “I could use a drink about now.” 

“Help yourself,” Fowler remains by the unlit fireplace as he nods to the decanter and an empty glass. 

“You know what, you’re not too bad either. Got them Sinatra eyes,” Hansen grabs the crystal bottle and tumbler and pours messily, dripping some down the side. He sets down the decanter and switches hands, shaking off his fingers. He brings his knuckles up to suck off the excess. “Hard to tell when you’re behind a barrel, you know?” 

Fowler’s eyes wander over to you. You nod and turn your attention to the visitor. He drink sloppily and lets out a belch.  

“Damn,” he glances at you again, “you get anything done around her with her just standing there? Sweetheart, why don’t you do a spin? Bet you’re fine from all angles.” 

“Leave her alone,” Fowler grits. “You know this isn’t chummy. This is business.” 

“Ha, come on, loosen up,” Hansen insists, “finally, the two of us, together. Nothing in this world could stop us--” He pauses and his eyes drift over again. “Can you tell her not to look at me like that? I swear, I just retracted half an inch.” 

He reaches down to adjust the front of his cream-coloured pants. You roll your eyes. Fowler sighs loudly. 

“Damn, baby,” Hansen struts towards you, “do that again. I like that. You got the kinda eyes I want looking up at me--” 

“Don’t come any closer,” you warn. 

“Or what, mistress? Where’s the whip--” 

“Listen to her,” Fowler warns. 

“Ah, come on, we both know who the dangerous one is,” Hansen chuckles as he reaches to touch your cheek. You catch his hand and bend his fingers back. He yowls like a wet cat and recoils. You twist before you let him go. 

“I told you,” Fowler laughs, his first show of ease. 

“Fuck me,” Hansen presses his hand to his stomach. “Vicious. Oh, kitty, kitty, I like that.” 

“I won’t stop her.” 

“I don’t need you to,” Hansen winks. “Let me tell ya, the balls dropped again. Their fucking heavy. I got an idea how to drain them--” 

“Stroke your ego a little harder,” you retort. 

“Oof,” he wiggles excitedly. “How is she in the sack? You a bottom Nicky boy or--” 

Your knuckles crack across his cheekbone and send him stumbling. It’s not the worst you could do but enough to get the message across. Fowler laughs louder than before. 

“I did warn you--” 

“Shhhhitttttttt,” Hansen snarls as he cradles his face. “Hell of a left hook. I thought you were a righty.” 

“I’m a professional, Hansen, so when you address me, it’s not sweet tits or baby or--” 

“Juicy jugs?” He adds. 

You lift your fist to examine your throbbing knuckles and he flinches away, “alright, ma’am. Mistress? Madame? Tell me what you want and I’ll take it like a good boy.” 

“You like to suffer, huh?” Fowler scoffs. 

“Not much else to do in this life,” Hansen retreats and drains what’s left of the liquor. “So, do I get the grand tour or the two of you leave the dungeon in shambles?” 

You shake your head as Fowler wrinkles his brow. He doesn’t answer right away. You feel like you should say something but no better than to take Hansen’s bait. 

“Guess I can take you around,” Fowler utters flatly. 

“I’ll put this away,” you volunteer as you stride forward and cap the decanter. 

“Oh, oh, Nicky, wait,” Hansen smirks as he leers in your direction, “damn, look at that walk. You ever let her step on you?” 

Fowler’s fingers flutter at his side and his nostrils flair, “as I was saying, this way.” 

“No fucking fun,” Hansen grumbles and rubs his reddening cheek, poking out the tick of his tongue at you. “Sweet-- Ma’am, why don’t you do a shot and come join us. Maybe it’ll make us a little less... strangers.” 

“I have work to do.” 

“Work?” Hansen echoes and glances at Fowler, “is that what she calls you?” 

Fowler’s jaw squares. Hansen chuckles and turns to strut up to the other man. He swings his arm back and slaps his ass, giving a squeeze, “relax, I’m having some fun. Not much chance to beat the meat in a convoy full of trigger-happy dudes.” 

You almost laugh at Fowler’s reaction. He recoils and shoves the other man away. He slaps his shoulder and coughs, flabbergasted by the assault. 

“Fuck,” Fowler exclaims. 

“What kinda glute workout you do? Those are tight.” Hansen says. 

“What the...” Fowler mutters then sends you a look. He gestures to you. Better you go. “Hands to yourself.” 

“Fine,” Hansen raises his palms and splays his fingers wide. “Goddamn, what’s a guy gotta do to get off around here?” 

[agroupiewhore]

Some random headcanons about what it would be like to date Enzo and a little imagine with him. I haven't wrote anything in ages so apologies if this is shite. Please no hate but let me know if you like this etc. I am always welcome to feedback/ thoughts/ comments/ concerns. Sorry in advance for grammar and spelling and punctuation

🐟🐳🐙🔵🪱

(THIS MANS JAWLINE IS MORE STRUCTURED THAN MY LIFE)

*Disclaimer: This is my own work and my own self-indulgent ideas, none of this is based in reality. And warnings for making out etc, nothing too explicit (PG-13)

✨️ There is no way you ever have to carry your own bag. This man is rushing in to help you. Whether that's your handbag on date night or all of the shopping bags after your weekly grocery shop run. And yes, he refuses to make 2 trips to the car.

✨️ Speaking of weekly shops runs, Enzo is that boyfriend who always pushes the trolley/ cart.

✨️ Matching Adidas trackies. Never quite knowing whose joggers/ t shirts/ jackets that belonged to.

✨️ Wearing his boxers after sex to go down and make a fresh batch of coffee.

✨️ Is always entertaining you with unusual facts and information about Uruguay and is keen for you to learn and embrace his culture and he is keen to learn more about yours.

✨️ Matching your nail varnish to his bow tie/ tie/ shirt colour etc.

✨️ Midnight beach walks where you tell eachother all your hopes and dreams and desires, all the 'deep stuff' you feel you can't tell eachother when it's daylight as it seems to real.

✨️ This man can dance. He has so much natural rhythm and is such a natural. He'll always be the first one up on the dance floor at parties and cast parties and would much rather spend the time on the dance floor with you rather than talking. Also at home will put on whatever dance music he wants and will just start dancing with you.

✨️ Dressing up as Kylo Ren and Rey for Halloween. "Well I mean... I think we should go as them, it would look good" "Fine"

A Perfect Day

You went to open the fridge to find the pouring cream for your iced coffees but were distracted by the note attached to the front, wrote in Enzo's beautiful cursive handwriting. You smiled to yourself as you read it. He always left the most beautiful love notes and this one was no exception. It simply read "You're my happy place". You took the note off the fridge and folded it neatly and placed it in your dressing gown pocket. You were saving them all, for what you weren't sure, but you pictured a future for you and enzo, maybe one day sticking all the notes down into a scrap book and passing it onto your daughter. To show her how much she should be loved by another. You smiled at the thought and opened the fridge, finally, to find the pouring cream. After Enzo had finished filming, touring and surving the awards season the two of you finally had some time and moved in together. The first thing he had done was gone out and found the most fanciest coffee machine. You guys hadn't even bought a bed yet at that point. You finished making your drinks and went back upstairs. Enzo was sat up in bed, shirtless.

"Well damn, it's hot this morning." You laughed as you sat back in bed next to him, being careful not to spill anything. "Here my angel." You passed him the iced coffee. He carefully took it from you and took that first heavenly sip.

"Hmm, perfecto." He said closing his eyes with a satisfied smile on his face. "I do not know how I survived without having you around, only you can make my coffee right."

"I'm sure there is someone else who could, I could always teach them, it's not too hard. There aren't any crazy secret ingredients." You replied "I just make it with love, I think that's why it's so good." Enzo leaned over and kissed you. "I love you so much, mi amor." He said as he took your hand. "What would you like to do today?"

"We need to go shopping to get a couple things and I was thinking maybe we could have a go at making our own pizzas for dinner?" You suggested, admiring him.

"You always have the best ideas, I have a couple more things to add to the list so please don't let me forget my love." Enzo said as he got out of bed. It would never get old seeing how beautiful he was. It was like he had been sculpted by the world's most incredible artist whose attention to detail no one was able to match. You felt so lucky to not only be with one so handsome but to also have discovered someone with a soul that was equally as beautiful. Enzo gave all of his love and time to you. He was always there, his strength and resilience gave you strength. He was so honoured and humbled to have been given such an important role in the film and the sincerity in which he handled his part was inspiring to you. He never got angry when you would call him in the middle of the night due to the time differences or when he had come home to see that you had used his entire bottle of his most expensive cologne. You had missed him a lot while he was away filming so decided one night to spray a little of it on to the pillow next to you, then a little onto your wrist; just to make it seem like he was there with you, however next thing you knew you'd unintentionally sprayed the entire bottle around the house and it was now empty. Enzo found it to be a most romantic gesture and when he left again to complete filming took a pot of your lip balm to apply each night so it could feel like you'd just kissed him. You heard the shower turn on and got up from the bed again to decide what to wear for today. It was a simple errand day so you grabbed a pair of Adidas joggers and a black long sleeved top.

"Wow, you look so beautiful." He said staring at you.

"What? These?" You laughed. "It's a step up from pajamas."

"You look perfect, I love it so much I will also wear mine." He said as he began looking in the wardrobe.

"Maybe one day you could surprise everyone and wear Nike." You laughed. You admired him once again as he got dressed and then you both finished your coffees. Ofcourse Enzo insisted on driving and you sat in the passenger seat and played DJ. Enzo was a cautious driver, especially whilst you were in the car. He could never understand men who drove dangerously to try and impress their partners. How could he risk your life? He couldn't live with himself if anything happened to you, especially if he was the cause of it. You thought is was sweet how he was always so gentle and careful with you. He parked up outside the supermarket.

"I can get my door." You said quickly, opening it as soon as he turned off the ignition. A few times Enzo had managed to run around to open your car door whilst you rummaged around for your handbag or wallet. He was always the gentleman.

"You know I love opening it for you." He said sweetly as he linked his hand with yours. "I'll push the cart."

"I wasn't even going to try." You laughed. Enzo had to push the trolley. He just had to, it wasn't an option for you ever. It made him feel helpful and supportive. You took the list out of your pocket as you walked in with him and began looking down the aisles.

"We have to get these crisps, you'll love them." You said, standing on your tip toes.

"I got it baby." Enzo said, barely having to extend his arm to grab the pack. There were times when his height came in handy and this was certainly one of them. One time the two of you had a fight that had started off as a result of something so small and petty and then seemingly didn't stop and just kept getting worse and worse. It was the first night the two of you went to bed without apologies or saying how much you loved one another. The next day you didn't say a word to him, you'd returned from work and Enzo had moved all of your favourite snacks and drinks to the top shelves so you had no choice but to talk to him.

"And can you get those ones as well, my love. That flavour looks good too." You said pointing to the packet next to it.

"Anything for you." He said, grabbing everything you asked for. You carried on walking through the supermarket getting everything you needed to make pizza later.

"I'll get this." You said, putting your card on the card reader first.

"No, no!" Enzo insisted. "Baby, we talked about this".

"I'll pay." You said "It's fine honey". Enzo muttered in Spanish about how he should be the one paying. The two of you walked back to the car and together loaded the shopping into the back of the car and drove back.

"Are you going to let me carry any of the shopping?" You asked.

"Not a chance." Enzo laughed and leaned over to kiss you. You kissed him back and gently tugged on the back of his hair to be able to kiss down his beautifully structured jawline.

"I love you so much." You said, between kisses.

"I love you so much more." He said. He kissed the tip of your nose and rested his forehead against yours. His soft eyelashes gently brushing your skin. "I got the shopping, don't worry." You got out of the car and opened the door for him. Enzo grabbed all the bags and followed you in.

"Baby, one day all the bags are going to break and I don't know what you will do." You said as you began putting everything away. "Leave the pizza ingredients out, my love."

"Anything for you, I will cut mine in to a heart shape." He said, doing as you asked him. You smiled at him.

"I might try and do a star or something, I don't know." You said. "Maybe the shape of a coffee bean."

"You know me so well." He said smiling as the last of the shopping was put away. The sun was beginning to set and the sky was turning a beautiful pink colour. You went out onto the balcony and looked out. The view was beautiful, just like your life now. You heard the doors slide open and Enzo stepped outside. You continued to look out as you felt his strong arms wrap around your waist and pull you closer. He kissed your neck gingerly taking in the smell of your perfume and moisturiser. The two of you fitting together perfectly, the final missing piece of the jigsaw to your life.

[uglypastels]

Hello love!! Your #1 fan back again with another request 😋

Was wondering if you could do a Logan x Gothic reader where the reader is apart of the team but not liked all that much due to their closed off manner. Not being receptive to any sort of communication or touch with anyone. But that’s due to her not wanting to have a meltdown and hurting others. Her and Logan are in a secret relationship cause obviously they’re the same in terms of personality and past traumas. I’d love it if reader could have slight reality warping powers, so she wears gloves to keep from accidentally touching someone and hurting them.

There’s this party going on inside the mansion. Some sort of holiday or something (whatever you’d like!) but reader isn’t a huge fan of social gatherings so she goes outside, finding Logan on his bike. She talks to him about feeling bad for not trying harder to be more open but he reassures her that she didn’t need to change for anyone to like her. Especially not him. The night could end with them heading back to her room and doing who knows what lool

(You don’t have to write anything you’re not comfortable with!! Thanks again for reading tho! Take care 💚😙)

ahhh i love this. hope you like what i made of it <3

warnings: social anxiety, overstimulation (lights and sounds, get your head out of the gutter).

~ X-Men requests are Open ~ Masterlist ~

The mansion was buzzing with excitement. The school had suddenly turned into a sort of nightclub with music blasting from the speakers. The lights were swinging and crisscrossing in colourful beams. Mutants, intoxicated with excitement as well as alcohol, danced all around you, singing along to any song to come up. Before had even started, it had become too much for you. The loud noises, the smells, the lights. But you had also promised Rogue to show up and at least try to have a good time. 

Well, you weren’t. No matter how hard you tried, these things just weren’t for you. Like you promised, you had stayed out on the floor for a bit. Tried to let the music move you and dance a bit, but it was so crowded. With each bump on the arm or back, you just kept getting flashes of the people’s minds. And who knows what they saw when they touched you?

It was all a waste of time. You were just being a burden on those who simply wanted to let loose and have fun. 

So, as the rest partied, you slipped out. No one would miss you. The one person who maybe would wasn’t even there. Or so you thought.

‘Logan?’ you asked as you saw his silhouette shift through the corridors. He didn’t look up at the sound of his name, but it was clear he didn’t hear you above the volume of the party. 

‘Logan.’ you called again, picking up your page as you went after him. Through the corridors, the main hall, out the large oaken doors. He was just sitting down on his motorcycle as you reached him. ‘Where are you going?’

‘Out to get some milk.’ He grumbled, adjusting his grip on the handles.

‘You’re kidding me.’ you scoffed, rolling your eyes at his excuse. ‘You might be an old man, but not that kind.’

‘Watch it, bub.’ He warned you with a stern glare. ‘I just… had to get away from—

‘All of that?’ you finished the sentence, ‘Yeah, I get it.’ Neither of you was the social type, and perhaps that’s what brought you together in the first place. The quiet on the outskirts of chaos drew you closer.

He must have seen the sadness on your face, as not much later, he said, ‘care to escape with me, sugar?’

And as much as you immediately want to hop on that damned motorcycle of his and run away into the sunset with him, instead, you took a step back, wrapping your bare arms over yourself. ‘I— I don’t think that’s a good idea, Lo.’ You nearly whispered. ‘What if I accidentally give you some kind of vision and you drive us off a cliff.’

‘Give me some credit, sweets.’ He chuckled. ‘I can drive a bike.’

‘Even when,’ you gently touched his forearm, ‘the road looks like this.’ For a moment, the driveway of the mansion turned into a sunny beach in front of your eyes. Logan squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. You knew it wouldn’t do any good, but you let go of him and shut the hallucination off. 

Most of the time, you could control your powers, but it was still something you had to learn. The quirks and kinks were hard to get out. For example, make sure you don’t accidentally give people hallucinations when you come into contact with them.

‘We should get out there sometime,’ Logan said. You looked up at him in confusion as to what he meant, and so he clarified. ‘To the beach. For a getaway. Just you and me. What’ya say, hun.’

‘You’d want to go to the beach? With me?’ never had you expected Logan to suggest something like that. You tried to imagine him in a pair of swimming shorts, sun-kissed skin and water dripping— you blinked quickly, erasing the images from your mind before they’d take over. Still, even if it was a joke, the idea of Logan taking you away for a holiday filled your body with fluttering butterflies. 

Logan huffed out a smile as he got off his motorbike. ‘I’d take you anywhere you’d like.’ His hand found its way around your waist, and he pulled you closer. ‘Just say the word, sugar, and hop on.’

Your mind immediately went into a mode of protest, apprehension and fear taking over, but he silenced all of that with a kiss. When he held and touched you, all the voices and lights went quiet. It was just you and him.

the end.

thank you for reading 💗

if you enjoyed the fic, please consider reblogging and leaving a comment. or send a message via my inbox. requests are also more than welcome. 💗

[v3nusxsky]

Hi. Could you please write about Lesso hiding her feelings for female reader, where Lesso gets suuper drunk once and reader is the one who finds her and helps her, and in process of helping finds out that Lesso has feelings for her? It can end with smut or something cute, whatever you see fit.

Surprised

*Authors note ~ lol this came to me in the shower but i love it so I hope the lovely anon doesn’t mind me tweaking the prompt ever so slightly. Here for subby lesso*

Trigger warnings~ spiking?, Revealed thoughts to soul mate Potion, typical never behaviour

Prompt~ see ask^^^^^

Society rules suck. It’s something you happen to believe with your whole heart. As an Ever, you were forbidden from befriending a Never for as long as you can remember. There was a clear divide that you had to adhere to. It was expected that you follow it religiously. And you did until you were sixteen and met her. Her fierce red hair adding to her Never appearance seemed to draw you in like a moth to a flame. But you couldn’t.

Unless you could. Sneaking off in the middle of the night to hang out. You have clear memories of just laying at your spot, watching the stars twinkle night sky with her at your side. Everything feeling so right. Yet you couldn’t share it with anyone. Your secret. You both knew the rules. And as you grew the importance of keeping your friendship a secret only grew. Life moved on, and your friendship grew alongside it, you couldn’t help but yearn for what you could never have. So you would remain secretly by her side, ready to fight any battle you could for her just as she did for you.

The first ball since the school merger had snuck up on you. Leonora already told you she wouldn’t be there, it’s not her scene, but you still couldn’t help but be excited to finally include everyone. Nevers and Evers alike would be there tonight. Having mixed classes was really a hit with everyone. Everything seemed more balanced these days, the divide lower than ever before.

Your ball grown was a blush pink and had off the shoulder straps. Your hair placed perfectly into an updo. The intricate detailing only added to the beauty you are. Attending the ball to start welcoming the students was magical, seeing everyone develop personalities away from their group, some Evers attending in darker colours and Nevers doing the opposite. It truly filled your heart with joy that they could have what you couldn’t. The future would be better than the past and that is always a win.

The dance was beautiful, nothing out of place as the hall was filled with lovely laughter and joy. It was only when you were confident nothing could go wrong that you allowed yourself to get a goblet of punch. The beautiful lavender colour peaking your interest as you sipped it. You didn’t notice the giggling as the potion set to work. What you did notice was her arrival. You always would.

Fuming. Leonora was fuming. She didn’t want to come to some ball, to dance till the wee hours of the morning with sore feet. She wanted to be in her charmers with a book by the fire. People most definitely aren’t her thing. But of course one of her own Nevers would sneak into the potion room and take something, resulting in goody two shows Clarissa knocking at her door in ball attire, ruining her peaceful evening.

Scanning the room for a skiny one haired wearwolf shouldn’t be hard, but they all look the damn same these days. So one by one Leonora took in the sea of dancers. The second she caught sight of you, her heart stopped. Breathtakingly beautiful as you stood there sipping from a goblet, smiling at the dancers. if only she could get you to smile at her that way. The way your eyes would sparkle slightly as you pull her closer, “eyes on me Leo” you’d murmur to her before capturing her lips in a passionate kiss. If only she could see that dress on her floor…

You’d take such good care of her, spending hours worshiping her like a queen, all hers. Your hands all over her body showing her how talented you truly are. The way you’d look at her as she pulled on your hair to get what she wanted. Oh what a sinful night that could be.

Hort. The changing of music snapped the Dean out of her own desires, a snort that was so clearly Hort catching her attention. Back to business. Until you began to stride over to her, dress swaying with the movement so delicately. Oh she could be so good for you, to be under you. Your little smirk simply caused her to roll her eyes. “Lesso, how good of you to join the ball” you practically purred when she was in reaching distance. “Don’t flatter yourself, I’m here for him” she almost growled in response while glaring daggers at Hort. You are too distracting and she knows that she’d crumble with how you tease her. “Hm? Perhaps. But for now you are with me. Come Leo” you command gently taking her by the elbow and back out of the hall with an ease she didn’t know how possessed.

“I know” you muttered cryptically to the other woman, her shock evident. “And just what exactly do you know?” She asked as her eyes gazed to your lips causing you to chuckle. How cute was she? While Leonora clearly had other ideas, imagining you tearing her clothing off her, claiming her lips with yours as you ran your hands all over her. The fascinated continued thoughts of getting you alone and out of that dress. She would do anything you asked. She could just, you interrupted her train of thought with a knowing smile, “I know Leo you would be such a good girl for me wouldnt you?”

“I- what in gods name are you talking about?” She stuttered as you moved to cage her body against the wall. One hand at her hip and the other pressed firmly against the stone wall. “The big bad Dean is really just craving something else aren’t you?” You teased watching as a blush tainted her cheeks and her eyes glanced towards your cleavage that was perfectly on show to her. “You” she mumbled quietly, the shock of the words leaving her mouth was almost overwhelming yet with you this close she couldn’t help it. It’s one thing to lie to herself with you at a distance but with you right here. No chance. “You want me Leo? I’m here. Isn’t that enough?” You teased trailing the hand on her hip up her body gently to grip her chin, “eyes are up here darling.”

“Please” she whimpered gazing into your eyes as her pupils were blown wide with need, “please kiss me.” Her quiet whisper almost when unheard. Yet you indulged her, pressing a sweet kiss to her lips, not enough to be anything but enough to keep her wanting more, whining as you pull away from her body completely. “Please don’t” her mumble gives you a pause, “soon Leo, you aren’t thinking clearly and I’m pretty sure I got spiked darling. I shouldn’t be able to hear all the unholy things you want me to do to you, yet I can. I heard every thought. I know you want me as badly as I want you but I care about you to do anything else till we have clear minds. Get some rest and if you still want me in the morning you know exactly where to find me sweet girl” you ended your little speech with a kiss to her cheek before returning to the ball leaving her stunned against the wall gingerly touching where you just kissed her.

Word count~ 1226

[bluntblade]

Realised that this never posted, but I stand by it:

It's really weird that Rogue One's aesthetic, which was specifically developed for a Star Wars film which had minimal space wizards and was instead about much more subdued characters and murkier moral themes, has now become the aesthetic which gets slathered over all new live-action Star Wars whether it fits or not.

If you step back, Rogue One isn't just very different to the Saga movies either side of it, it's pretty damn different to what came back, what with the modern war movie influences. It's working to portray how the Galaxy often feels outside the saga, and the visuals are part of that.

Mando mostly works with the same look because while there are some big personalities, they're almost all side characters, while the mains are stoic and reserved except for Grogu (who's the only wizard regular). Andor looks downright great, not least as much of it is shot on actual locations and on full sets.

But apply this to Ahsoka and Kenobi, and it rather cuts against the vibe they're going for. Space wizards, with their operatic cosmic conflicts and connection to a mystic energy, tend to want something a bit more heightened (which I think is an under-discussed problem in the PT which is very muted much of the time, and a major strength in the more stylised Empire and TLJ). The colours are muted, the angles mostly flat, and it ends up being at odds with the story being told.

To extend Kenobi some goodwill, lots of the latter seems to have come from the Volume. You keep seeing where the cinematographer wanted to crank a shot of Vader to be sharper and more impactful, but couldn't because the Volume doesn't permit that. Although I do think there are some baffling bits of blocking like in the chase and the first duel, the floaty shaky-cam is a generally poor look and really, Lucasfilm shouldn't lean so hard on the Volume (I mean, seriously guys, look at Monarch. That looks miles better than anything you've done on TV except for Andor.) But point is, they tried and ran into constraints.

Meanwhile Ahsoka seems exceedingly comfortable with both feet in Gordon Willis' metaphorical bucket of cement. The characters' energy levels are tamped way down from Rebels to match the muted presentation, and things often feel low-energy even just within the context of these shows. Even when the show steps into the World Between Worlds, an explicitly supernatural plane (or goes into Ahsoka's coma dream) there's no real change in look. Contrast the way that Empire employs that low shutter speed in the dark cave, while TLJ steps into something surreal complete with voiceover and an impossible CG camera move. In Ahsoka, though, there's little attempt to make the place feel otherworldly beyond how the scenery looks.

And these are largely missing a vital part of Rogue One's look, which is scale. Both Gareth Edwards and cinematographer Greig Fraser are great at portraying large-scale things in interesting ways, and that's something which will tend to get lost with a move to the small screen and the massive use of the Volume, without shots from locations or physical sets to balance it out and make spaces feel more real. Without that, the Mandoverse keeps feeling... rather pokey.

[unformula1]

i miss you. (LS2 x OP81)

logan reflects. w/c: 622 day 42 of loscar posts until we get a loscar podium…! (series masterlist) masterlist a/n: im sorry for lack of posts lol, im pretty unmotivated and tired. happy monaco gp! 

Hey! It’s Oscar. I’m probably really busy or something, drop me a message, I’ll get back to you.

The monotonous voice of Oscar rings through the phone and into Logan’s ears.

Voicemail. Again.

Oscar hadn’t changed his voicemail in many years, the voice in the recording was him a few years back.

Back when Oscar was still like a child.

Back when things were easier, and definitely more fun.

Back when Oscar still bothered texting full sentences.

Back when Logan was actually praised.

Logan sighs, shuts off his phone and places the phone back into his pocket. He leans back on the bench, fiddling with the bottom of his shirt. The exact shirt Oscar had gotten Logan for his birthday, it was just a basic graphic tee of a koala but it was to never forget Oscar.

Especially in times like these.

But did Oscar remember Logan?

He should’ve gotten him a damn shirt, one with an eagle on it or something.

Logan keeps his head down, staring at the koala on his shirt. 

Why did things have to change?

Why did everything have to get so complicated?

Logan stares out into the beach, the orange sunset paralleling the papaya colours of McLaren. It’s almost ironic, how Logan would wait until the sky turned dark for Oscar to show up.

—

“You are absolutely insufferable!” Oscar says, throwing a pillow into Logan’s chest.

“Hey! Rude.” Logan scoffs, catching the pillow.

Oscar lies down on the cushioned bench of the drivers’ room, “I hate you so much.”

“No you don’t!” Logan feigns offence.

“Asshole.” 

Logan chuckles, sitting down on the floor.

“I hate it when you’re such a nice person.” 

Oscar flashes that polite cat smile.

Logan hates it so much, he’s weak for it.

“That doesn’t make sense!” Logan chuckles.

“Because it makes me feel like I don’t deserve you.” Oscar explains.

“Right… but you do.” Logan affirms.

“Thanks.” 

“Always.”

—

Logan kicks his feet onto the bench, just staring into the ocean as the tides ebb and flow. 

Funny how things changed so much, Logan used to think him and Oscar were inseparable. 

Guess some things have to move on, guess time took its toll on them.

Everything had changed.

But he’ll wait. Logan will wait for Oscar to show up.

Nothing hurts more than losing someone you thought would be forever. There isn’t despair without hope.

Logan hoped that Oscar would stay, keep his word.

Oscar didn’t.

Then came the despair.

But Logan will wait, as long as it takes.

Logan continues fiddling with the shirt and tracing over the outline of the koala, wiping away his tears.

It shouldn’t be this complicated.

It shouldn’t have to be this complicated.

Logan waits a few minutes before taking his phone out and opening Oscar’s chat.

What does he even text now? 

His fingers hover over the message buttons, growing numb from just floating slightly above the keyboard.

It’s absolutely infuriating, Logan doesn’t even know what to say anymore.

They used to be able to share anything and everything, like their little safe bubble. Logan could drop his facade in front of Oscar, he could tell him anything.

Yet here he was, thinking too hard about what to say so Oscar would at least open the chats, putting up the happy facade he used to be able to drop in front of Oscar.

He lets his tears flow down his cheeks, blurring his vision. 

Logan should’ve done better.

Logan should’ve been better.

Logan should’ve succeeded.

Maybe then Oscar would bother looking in his direction.

Logan swings his legs back onto the floor as he wipes his tears off with the sleeve of the shirt.

It all comes back to Oscar.

Logan: i miss you.

[lvlyynim]

bestfriend!mark who’d remember your usual drink and pastry order so he’d have an excuse to crash your study session in the library.

bestfriend!mark who always has a spare charger in his bag whenever your phone is running low.

bestfriend!mark who would lull you to sleep with a few plucks from his guitar and soft singing.

bestfriend!mark who keeps small gifts you gave him and stores them in a cupboard box, calling it his memories box. (from the first movie ticket you two went together to the polariods of you and him)

bestfriend!mark who has a crush on you ever since 9th grade, you skipped school to take care of him when he was sick.

“don’t you have that very important history test? the one you spent weeks studying for”

“oh shush, you’re more important than that stupid test. now shut it and drink this”

bestfriend!mark who has a drawer full of his shit in your closet cause he’s constantly over at your place.

bestfriend!mark who would stay up all night stargazing with you from the small balcony.

bestfriend!mark who nearly burned down your kitchen, trying to make a sunny side up.

“you are never ever entering my kitchen again. at this point mark, you’re setting yourself up everytime you grab a pan”

“at least this one is better than the rest-”

“THAT’S NOT THE POINT”

bestfriend!mark who always know when something is wrong and shows up with your favourite snacks and his hoodie.

bestfriend!mark who sents you sunset pics daily saying it reminds him of you. he’s also your personal weather forecaster.

bestfriend!mark who orders fast food and eats them with you in his car, in an empty parking lot.

bestfriend!mark who holds your hand in crowded places out of fear of losing you in a sea of people. (also your hands will stay interlocked for the whole day)

bestfriend!mark who’s your biggest supporter and constantly encourages to face your fears, reminding it’ll always work out in the end.

bestfriend!mark who dyed his hair blue after losing his bet with haechan (and it was probably the best thing to happen cause it suits him, to the point where you can’t stop staring at him)

“you look great with blue hair”

“hm? dang really?”

“mhm probably my favourite colour out of the all other ones”

“damn you liked it that much huh? is that why you keep staring at me?”

“shut up and finish your food”

bestfriend!mark who rubs his hand up and down your back whenever you two hug.

bestfriend!mark who stays sober if you two go out for drinks or during parties so he could take care of you in case you do too many shots.

bonus nsfw cuts

bestfriend!mark who jerks off to a photo of you almost every night before being consumed by guilt and shame. (and does it again the next night)

bestfriend!mark who shamelessly checks out anytime you wear something a tad bit revealing. (his favourite : you in skirts)

bestfriend!mark who finally had the chance to pour his feelings out to you and fuck you senseless afterwards.

“you have no fucking clue how long i’ve wanted this” you let a broken sob, feeling as if his cock is gonna split you in half with how deep he is. how big he is.

mark just chuckled at your disheveled state, legs pinned to your body, eyes rolled back in euphoria, body littered with his mouthwork.

“taking me so good baby, so fucking good” he’s losing it by the second. with how you’re clenching around him, he’s not gonna last long. your high pitched moans is a telltale sign you’re in the same boat as well.

mark was a gone man when you wrapped your legs around his waist and pushed him deeper into your dripping cunt. leaning a whine of your name, he came hard. you took advantage and pushed him onto his back, straddling him.

wind knocked out of mark’s lungs seeing you bouncing on his cock, desperate for your own release. mark was choking on his sobs, his cock overstimulated to the point where he could cry any moment now.

“ba-baby please ngh please come please”

“fuck mark, i-i’m cumming”

it didn’t take long for the knot in your stomach to snap, orgasm washing over your body with a long whine of mark’s name.