#the drivers are gonna have to be scraped off the floor to be put on the next plane đ”âđ«
so itâs a triple header with a sprint weekend in the middle⊠are yall trying to kill these people orđ
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Office life at 550+ lbs
Word count: 1061
Extreme obesity, mobility issues, work environment, feedee perspective
No gender mentioned POV
Being a working feedee is hard sometimes, especially when your gain slows down to a snails pace despite how much you've been eating. In the last 3 years you've only put on another 40lbs, but you have an easy job that pays the bills and allows you to live comfortably so you can't complain too much. The only part of this job you hate though, is the journey inside.
As you exit your car you can already feel the sweat forming between your rolls, it's been taking a few tries lately to stand up after swinging your hefty left leg out onto the concrete. You've even questioned if you should bring your car to the shop to check the suspension just in case your fat ass crashing back down onto the driver seat a half dozen times a day might be causing issues. At the very least you were thankful for your personal parking spot only being about 250ft from the elevator up to the office floor. Only 100ft from the buildings entrance and the cold AC running throughout the building.
And so you begin your slow pendulous waddle, thighs scraping against each other with every step, causing so much friction your jeans always have a distinct wear pattern only a couple weeks after buying them. One foot infront the other you waddle, repeating the laboured motion as your breath grows heavy and your belly slaps against the tops of your thighs. Halfway to the door now you hear the clicking of heels against the concrete, 2 interns whizzing by you without a word. You can't even imagine moving as fast as they do, or why they'd even want to move that fast in the first place. Your sense of urgency left you a couple hundred pounds ago.
Another 20 heavy steps later you reach the door, a mailman on the other side who was about to leave opens it for you, clearly staring at your mammoth size and brow covered in sweat. You make it inside and can barely catch your breath to say thank you before he's gone. The AC graces your hot sweaty skin and you feel relief, you spot your double wide chair HR had fought to get installed for you last year, and plop down on it with a huff. All there's left to do is catch your breath for a couple minutes, walk 60 steps through the lobby, turn right, walk 10 steps to the elevator, a minute of standing, and another 30 steps to your cubicle. Where you will then chow down on a couple snacks you brought and rehydrate before looking at spreadsheets and grazing on more food for 8 hours. A routine you had grown so accustomed to that it became second nature.
You look at the handle bar bolted into the wall and remember when you found it insulting, but now it was a necessity. Gripping the bar you start to stand hoping a second try isn't needed because of how many people were in the lobby. You can feel your heart quake and your knees whine but thankfully you hauled your lard laden ass off the seat in one attempt.
The second journey begins and the heavy waddle ensues, gut bouncing, thighs scraping, mouth open and breathing loudly enough that you're attracting attention. You try to ignore their stares but it's only fueling your appetite, already making a mental list of what you're going to grab from the vending machine once you get off the elevator. A few minutes later you round the corner and take the final few steps only to notice a sign on the elevator. You can't read it yet but you can feel your heart sinking already. It can't be right? They would've told you. They would've sent an email or a text. "Out of order".
Panic sets in, you can't climb 4 flights of stairs, you bought a one story house for good reason, you haven't had to climb more than a curb in years at this point. Your mind is growing frantic as you feel the burden your legs are under grow stronger, anticipating if you're really gonna be expected to climb the stairs.
Your phone buzzes, a text from Susy in HR
"Hey! I'm so sorry 'your name', this just happened like an hour ago and I totally forgot to tell you. The elevator is having some major issues and we don't know when it'll be fixed. I dug up that old paper work you filed 6 months ago about work from home and I'm gonna push it through asap! I've sent Lucy downstairs with a work laptop for you to bring home, just take a couple days off while we get all the paperwork in order."
Relief washes over you as you hear the distinct clicking of heels coming down the stairs. You steady your breath and try to seem unfazed, almost certain you look ridiculous.
Lucy: "Hey 'your name', here's your laptop and a cherry cola, figured you would need it before heading back to your car ;). You know I'm gonna miss seeing you around here, less stuff to talk about and no one to gawk at. You have my number so just let me know if you need me to come over to help you adjust"
A quick farewell and her heels were clicking back up the stairs, but all you could think about was how you're never gonna see the inside of that office again. With no where to go and no decency to be upheld there was no reason you wouldn't finally break 600lbs. You chug the Cola, wanting to make one final show for the coworkers and acquaintances you've made over the years, and start the final journey, one to immobility.
With a gassy belly swaying from side to side, your humongous thighs atop fattened lard laden calves carry you through the lobby one last time. Not even trying to hide your burps and groans you walk out of the building, skipping the chair by the door you once saw as a refuge. Thoughts of what takeout you're gonna get delivered and a quickly growing Walmart order forming in your mind as you slowly waddle through the parking lot one last time. All fueled by the dream of being an immobile work from home piggy
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lest I go unsheltered
buck & maddie siblingism, post 7.04 | read on ao3
The last time Buck felt this nervous about talking to Maddie, he was fifteen and had scratched the Jeep. It was a real good one too, paint and metal flaked off the driverâs side door, the panelling beneath dented enough to catch when you tried to close it. Maddie and his parents were out for the night, and it hadnât taken much convincing from his friend Andrew for Buck to lift the keys from the bowl on Maddieâs dresser and take it for a spin. When heâd scraped the door while parking Andrew had climbed out, taken one look at the car and fled. It wasnât the kind of scratch you could buff out and besides, he and Maddie had promised a long time ago to be honest with each other. They were on the same team, always.
But Maddie had loved that Jeep. Buck remembers feeling sick to his stomach, practicing what he would say to her. Heâs pretty sure he threw up over it.
He hopes heâs not gonna throw up now. Maddieâs in the kitchen, pouring enough red into their wine glasses Buck probably shouldnât drive after drinking his. Chimâs doing something with Albert tonight and Jee is asleep, had been already when Buck got over here. Heâd poked his head in to check on her and brushed an air kiss over her soft curls, so as not to wake her, in case she felt a real one. Heâd stood from his crouch to find Maddie watching them in the doorway, her head leaned up against the jamb. She was smiling softly. When she saw him looking she lifted her hand, tilted it toward her mouth. Wine?
Jesus, heâd need it. Buck had nodded and followed Maddie from Jeeâs room.
She brings the promised glass out, unnervingly full, and sits across from him on the couch with one leg on the floor, the other tucked up beneath her. Buck flicks his fingernail over the thin rim of the glass, listening to the sharp ring of it, until Maddie sighs and reaches over and puts her hand over his to stop it.
âWhatâs wrong?â she asks, not exactly kindly. Not accusatory either, justâexasperated. Her eyebrows have climbed halfway up her forehead but when Buck doesnât answer straight away they draw back down, then further still, until sheâs frowning. âEvan?â
I scratched the Jeep, Buck had blurted, almost twenty years ago now from the top of the stairs before Maddie had even taken her key out the door. Sheâd looked at him that same way, eyebrows drawing together, face scrunching into a scowl as the words registered. Sheâd said, youâve got to be fucking kidding me, and stomped back outside to take a look at the damage. Sheâd left her keys in the door.
Buckâs pretty sure sheâll have a different answer this time, but the words still stick in his throat. It feels like it did when she told him about Daniel, when everything in his life could be divided neatly down the line of before-I-knew, and after. Heâs drawn a second line in his head without even realising it, but which side of it things are sitting on, heâs still figuring out. Heâd taken Maddieâs Jeep to impress Andrew, was the thing, who had blue eyes and shaggy blonde hair and was always quick to smile, quicker, even, than Buck, though of course heâd only been Evan back then. Câmon, Ev, heâd pleaded, wide-eyed, glinting with mischief. Heâd wound the windows all the way down as they drove, laughing, the sound carrying from the car and turning Hershey into something else entirely, something that clung at Buckâs heart and made him want to stay. At least, until two years later, when Andrew had gotten into Cornell and left Buck there, in Hershey, taking all the good things about it with him.
Should Buck have known, even then?
Maddieâs still looking at him. Buck wriggles his hand out from under hers and sets his wine on the coffee table. After a moment, she puts hers down too.
âIâm,â Buck says, and the word that should come after sticks in his throat. âSomethingâhappened. I, um, I did something.â
âOh-kay,â Maddie says slowly, drawing the word out like itâs two: Oh⊠kay. She brings her other leg up so sheâs cross-legged on the couch. âIs it something bad? I donât need to hide a body for you, do I?â
âWhat?â Buck laughs, a quick exhale through his nose. Itâs enough to ease some of the tension in his shoulders and break Maddieâs face into a small smile. âNo, nothing like that. Though IâIâm concerned thatâs where your mind went first.â
She shrugs. âChim and Iâve been marathoning Criminal Minds.â
âAh.â He rubs at his mouth. âNo, um. Itâs not, like, a big deal, I guess. I meanâit is, but notâlike that.â
âOkay.â She looks at him.
Buck had stayed at the top of the stairs until Maddie had come back inside. Sheâd taken a deep breath, slid her keys from the door, shut it behind herself and locked it. Iâm really mad at you, sheâd said, her voice level. And then sheâd looked up at him, and sighedâmaybe at the way he was clutching his hands round his shoulders. Maybe at the fact he hadnât moved an inch since she got home. Maddie sighed a lot when she was here. At their parents, when they couldnât go a single Sunday dinner without arguing. At Buck, when he spilled bright blue nail polish all over the carpet in her room. At Doug, over the phone, when she didnât know Buck was listening.
Sheâd walked up the stairs and sat next to him on the landing. Their shoulders bumped together. But Iâm really glad you told me, sheâd said, then grabbed his head and scuffed her knuckles through his hair. Youâre paying for the repairs, stupid. Which had been a lie, anyway.
Buck takes a breath. He lets it out all at once. Maddieâs looking at him steadily. âTommy kissed me,â he says. âI kissed him back. Weâre going on a date on Saturday and I. I think I like guys.â He swallows. âThatâs, um, it.â
âEvan,â Maddie says, and then nothing else because sheâs in his arms, hugging him. His hands come up to her shoulder blades, the wings of them beneath her sweatshirt, and heâs been bigger and taller than his older sister since his growth spurt when he was fourteen but right now itâs like that doesnât even matter. She holds him like she wonât let go and that tiny knot of tension, that ugly scrunching of doubt that had been nestled in his chestâit releases. Of course, it seems to say. Of course itâs okay. Like Buck had been an idiot to ever think otherwise. Whichâheâs often an idiot. Maddie loves him anyway.
âIâm sorry,â she says thickly, sounding suspiciously snotty where her face is pressed against Buckâs neck. âI donât really know the right thing to say. I love you, Evan, Iâmâso proud of you.â
Buck gives his own sniffle. âThat works,â he manages to say, and then Maddie is pulling back, wiping at her eyes and under her nose. Thereâs a damp patch on the shoulder of Buckâs shirt, that she seems to use as a target when she socks him. âOw. What was that for?â
âYouâre an idiot!â She throws her hands into the air. âYou were pullingâfuckingâpigtails!â Each word is punctuated by another punch. Thereâs no weight behind them, and after the third Maddie sits back, takes a deep breath.
âIs this where you tell me that being mean to a boy isnât the way to tell him I like him?â
âSeems like I donât have to.â She presses her lips together, like sheâs trying to still be mad, but it hardly lasts a second until her face splits into a smile. âEvan,â she says. âOh my God. Okay.â
She leans over to scoop up their glasses of wine and presses Buckâs into his waiting hand, and they could be fifteen and twenty-three again, shoulder-to-shoulder on the landing of their house in Hershey. Twenty-seven and thirty-five, drinking wine on Abbyâs couch. Twenty-nine and thirty-seven, sifting through a baby box of memories, stood just over the line between before and after. Although maybe Buck was wrong. Maybe there is no lineâno clean way to divide a life that will always be messy, because thatâs what life is, isnât it?
Windows rolled downânail polish on the carpetâa kiss you didnât even know you wanted, until you did.
Maddie takes a big gulp of wine, and her eyes are sparkling, matching a smile thatâs almost as wide as her face. âTell me everything,â she says, and Buck laughs, and does.
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Smut promp list: george russell
15, 18, 52
George was getting frustrated, you could tell. The way his jaw clenched with every movement you made, every sound out of your mouth. You had been teasing him all night, winding him tight, trying to get him to snap. The moment you walked into the bedroom to him getting changed you knew he'd be putting you through hell. Something about George in a suit always got you going, but George half naked in just those tailored suit trousers, the muscular skin of his back on display, did something else to you. You had tried very hard to convince him you could be a little late to dinner but he wasn't giving in. That was when you decided that you were gonna give him a taste of his own medicine tonight.
George had driven you to the event, something he knew would drive you insane. He'd taken off his blazer to ensure it didn't get creased as he drove, leaving him in his white button-up. Your hand had slid over his as he changed gear, your painted nails gliding softly over his wrist. You saw the way he swallowed at the touch, taking a deep breath and ignoring you. Your wandering hands didn't stop, slipping over his thigh as he drove, squeezing gently. Your fingers inched toward his crotch, your body leaning slightly over the centre console of the car. Your breasts spilled out of your dress at the motion, your fingers feeling his cock swell at the touch. He turns to look at you, lust blown eyes, leaning in for a kiss. Your finger comes to cover his lips, "Red lipstick sweetheart, no stains." You tell him, turning to get out of the car.
For the rest of the night you'd been teasing him: running a finger over his crotch under the table when Lewis asked him a question; 'accidentally' spilling champagne over your chest when you tried to take a drink; placing a hand on the arm of one of the Mercedes' engineers and winking at George as his fingers tighten around his glass. The last straw was your conversation with Lewis. George watched on as you rested your head in your hands across the table, squeezing your breasts together. Normally heâd let you tease him like this but the second Lewisâ eyes dart down to your chest he loses it.
George stands abruptly, the legs of his chair scraping across the floor. He. Was. Pissed. You stand up equally as quickly, George muttering an excuse about you feeling unwell before hurrying you out. His hand holds a vice like grip over your wrist as he practically drags you towards the car. He opens the door for you before slamming it shut and slotting himself in the driverâs seat. The only sounds come from the road as he drives in silence, seething at you. Eventually he speaks.
âTouch yourself.â
âI- what?â You stutter, turning to look at your boyfriend. âYou heard me, if youâre so fucking desperate that you have to whore yourself out in front of my teammate then touch yourself right now.â He demands, never once looking at you. The tone of his voice sends a shiver down your spine and an ache between your legs. âHurry up, weâll be home soon.â He mutter, gesturing dismissively towards you with his hand.
You settle back against the seat, spreading your legs as best as you can. You pull the slit of your dress to the side and hike it up slightly, allowing George to see you have no underwear on. âYou filthy slut, youâve been naked under that dress this whole time?â He groans, his hand gripping the wheel tighter. You whimper softly as your fingers begin to rub circles against your clit. Your back arches at the contact, grateful for some relief from the ache.
George refuses to watch, death gripping the wheel as his trousers grow tighter. Your soft moans fill his ears, making him picture the way you look. Chest heaving as your head is thrown back, manicured hand between your legs. Georgeâs hand reaches over and grasps your own, halting its actions. You whine at the loss, âYou canât cum without my permission,â George explains, pulling into the drive of your home. He parks the car before dragging your hand up to his mouth, his tongue flattening against the pads of your fingers. This time he maintains eye contact, his beautiful eyes staring you down as he sucks your fingers clean with a deep groan.
Without a word he gets out of the car, leaving you dumbfounded. He walks around to your side, opening the door and extending a hand to help you out. His hand slips around your waist as he leads you to the front door and lets you both inside. With a sharp hit to your ass, George sends you upstairs. âStrip and sit on the edge of the bed, no touching.â He demands, stalking to the kitchen as you scurry upstairs. You remove your dress, finding its hanger and slipping it back into the wardrobe. You perch yourself on the edge of the bed, grateful for central heating.
George clicks the door open, glass of water in hand. He places the water on your bedside table. Heâd removed his blazer downstairs, leaving him in just the button-up and trousers. He rolled the sleeves of the shirt up before sitting next to you. âCome here darling.â George murmured, patting his lap. You lay yourself over his legs, allowing him to trail his hands over the bare skin of your back. âDo you think you deserve it my love?â He whispers, his hand smoothing over your ass. âDo you deserve for me to touch you after the way you acted?â You whine in response, shaking your head.
âNo, I donât deserve it, Iâm sorry. I shouldnât have teased you.â You whimper, beginning to squirm in his lap. âYou donât deserve it youâre right. But Iâm going to give you something anyway, because youâre still my girl.â He says, placing a kiss to your cheek as you turn your head in his lap. His hand lands on your ass with a smack, your legs clenching at the pain. âThank you.â You whimper, burying your face against his trousers. âThank you, what?â He asks gruffly, his hand pulling your hair back. âThank you sir.â You whine as his hand lands once more on the other cheek.
Hit after hit comes, each followed by a meagre thank you. Tears escape your eyes as the ache between your thighs grows. There was always something so sinful about you being fully naked in front of a fully clothed George, your willingness to please him making his cock twitch. He taps your thigh, signalling for you to move. You take your usual position, stomach down and ass up as you hear Georgeâs clothes hit the ground.
The bed dips as he rejoins you, gentle kisses down your spine as your pussy clenches. Georgeâs tip runs through your folds, coating it in your arousal. âRemember what I said in the car.â George tells you before sliding himself inside you. Whilst George wasnât particularly thick, the length of his cock always had you stretching for him, feeling him in your stomach as he bottoms out. Your arousal is so intense that he slides in and out easily, the sticky sounds of the two of you connecting fill the room. âYou take me so well, made for my cock arenât you my love.â George groans, hands holding onto your hips as he thrusts.
The slam of his own hips against your reddened cheeks sends pleasure shooting through your core. You moan into the bedsheets, practically screaming for your boyfriend. George yanks your hair back around his fist, âI want to hear what I do to you, moan for me.â He moans, sinking his teeth lightly into your shoulder at the feeling of your pussy around his cock. âIâm so close sir, please can I cum? Want it so bad, canât hold it.â You moan, hands fisting the sheets. Georgeâs hand slips from your hair to between your legs, stimulating your clit with his slender fingers as he slams into you. âNeed to feel you, cum for me, cover my cock baby.â He whines, his head dropping into your neck.
The bed creaks with the weight of his thrusts, drowned out by your moaning as you reach your peak. The feeling is enough to send George over the edge. Pulling out he pumps his hand over his cock twice before shooting ropes of cum over your lower back. Your legs give out as his fingers continue to rub at your clit, your weight against his hand stopping the movement. After a few minutes silence George rolls over, collecting some tissues to clean you up. He reaches into the bottom drawer to get the aloe vera, massaging the cooling gel into your ass gently. You whimper at the feeling but soon relax as the bitter sting is dampened.
You chug your glass of water before curling up against George, his arms wrapping around you. You fall asleep as he strokes your hair, declaring his love for you in a whisper before he too passes out.
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we want to know about your near death experiences, please tell us of your near death experiences
erm. gonna put them under a cut in case it's too much for anyone lol (since it's kinda personal, i'm not going to pull my punches in describing how i felt, and i know not everyone's comfortable with discussions of death and near-death)
- took nearly 3 days to be born because my mom refused a cesarean and was nearly a month premature. don't know if this one counts because i was a baby but apparently they were pretty worried about my chances of survival towards the end and when i was born i was sickly and in a lot of pain for months.
- fell down the stairs multiple times when i was a kid, suffered several concussions and fractures and developed vertigo that gave me a phobia of heights i eventually grew out of. again not sure if this counts since i barely remember it but i do remember the feeling of cracking my head once and boy it's not fun. it's like cracking an egg but the egg is your skull. also remember having a lot of dreams of jumping off the top of the stairs and my consciousness separating from my body and watching it fall because of this.
- nearly drowned because i swam too far out to sea on holiday and got caught up in a massive tidal wave (it was the baltic sea in poland, on a very windy day, and i was 8 years old and an idiot). i'd just accepted that i was going to die stuck in this current i couldn't escape and given up on being afraid, embracing the cold dark tidal embrace of death, when the wave very gently set me down in the shallows and i was so at peace that i almost forgot to sit up and breathe. left a big impression in me. i did not tell my parents what happened because i was okay with it and didn't want to upset them or deal with them fussing over me or giving me hell for taking stupid risks when i didn't need it.
- got hit by a car on my bike and flipped over the hood. was fine except for bruises and scrapes but while in the air briefly freaked out and thought i could see a halo of fire around the driver's head (probably the sun shining through the rear window).
- nearly died of dehydration while infected with a very nasty bout of flu that kept me in bed for 2 months straight. i passed out on the floor of my kitchen while trying to lift a cup to pour myself a drink and would have probably at the very least ended up with severe complications if my cat hadn't wailed over my body until my mom woke up and found me lying there. while passed out i had this horrible nightmare that i was god reincarnated in a mortal body and got really upset because i didn't want to be responsible for the entirety of humanity because it was too much and i was only 15. was extremely relieved when my mom revived me and explained that i was just really fucking sick. ended up in hospital with an iv in my arm to prevent my body from shutting down on itself until the flu burned out enough for my own organs to stop fighting me.
- tombstoned off the lighthouse in the bay with some sort of friends and very fucking narrowly missed a shelf of rock that would have shattered me to pieces if i hadn't twisted out of the way moments earlier. as it rushed towards me i very much saw my life up to that point flash before my eyes and was really disappointed by how little i'd done with it. didn't actually do much about it for a while though because i was a depressed unmedicated teenager in a bad living situation. pretty sure that kid would be amazed by how far i've come since then though.
- pretty sure i only survived a bus crash because moments before it happened i felt this urge to stand up and did. if i hadn't my head would have gone through this metal bar on top of the seats and my neck probably would have been broken.
- got lost in a woodland area by google maps once and got so dehydrated from the heat and blood loss (due to trying to cut through thorn bushes when i got desperate enough to get scared) that i started hallucinating this shimmery figure i couldn't look at directly following me and chasing me every time i started to give up (somehow i just knew that letting them touch me would be very bad, but they didn't feel malevolent? i was scared but i didn't get the impression that they wanted to hurt me, just that it would be a consequence of letting them touch me). got rescued because i screamed so loud that some passing hikers heard and went in and pulled me out of there. again not sure if this one counts as near death but i was wandering in there for hours and felt like i was going to die.
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Ghost Rider Magical Girl AU
yeah you read that right - check out the tag I'm just following the brilliance of @cicada-candy and @wazzappp
At first, Robbie thinks he must be dead. He drove straight into a wall at forty miles per hour, by all means he should be dead.
This is like the fourth time youâre having this freak out, the snake mutters, coiling around the steering wheel. It flicks the wipers on with his tail, the blades struggling to scrape off the black substance covering the windshield. A ghostly body slowly evaporates from the hood.
Robbie blinks. Heâs on the other side of the building, as if he drove right through it. When he looks over his shoulder, through the miraculously intact rear window, all he can see is a solid brick wall of the warehouse.
See? The snake hisses. He sounds incredibly smug. Told ya it would work. I think you got themâ
Just to hammer down how rarely the snake is right about anything, heâs interrupted by a loud bang on the roof of the car. Itâs promptly followed by manic scratching, like the ghost is trying to claw its way in.
Well, shit, the snake observes. Youâre gonna have to get out to deal with this one.
âLike hell Iâm getting out.â Robbie turns the key in the ignition to start the car again, the engine rumbling to life with a shower of pink sparks on the dashboard, because this is his life now, apparently. When he tries to step on the gas, he ends up jamming the ridiculous heel of his boots into the floor. âThese fucking bootsââ He tries again, only for his foot to slip right off the pedal. âCome on!â
The scratching intensifies. Itâs gonna take the paint off! The snake shouts, like that isnât a mind-boggling event all of itâs own. Get the hell out and kick its ass!
âYou think I can stand in these?!â Robbie nearly broke his leg running back to the car when the ghosts attacked him outside the auto shop. Just because injuries donât seem to stick when heâs in this stupid fucking outfit doesnât mean he wants to try that again, much less kick anything. Inches above his head, the ghost shrieks in rage.
How hard can it be?! Itâs just shoes! Women do it all the time!
âNot withoutâ training, or something!â
The next warehouse is only a few meters away, and Robbie is an excellent driver, but heâs not exactly flying under the best conditions right now. If he canât control the car, heâs going to end upâ
A set of hooked talons breaks through the passenger window, the half-melted ghostly face lowering itself down after it. His options rapidly diminishing, Robbie grabs one of the bedazzled white hammers he ends up holding after every transformation and throws it at the creature, hitting it right in the nose. It wails in pain, but doesnât stop itâs torturous crawl inside.
Get the other hammer! Donât just throw it, keep hitting it!
Robbie does. Heâs dimly aware heâs screaming the entire time, the black blood spraying out of the ghost and onto his white gloves, but eventually the ghost goes limp. It gives one last forlorn moan before dissolving into nothing. Robbie waits a couple of seconds, struggling to catch his breath, before he risks sticking his head through the broken window to see if this was the last one.
No more ghosts. The night is quiet again, the colours returning back to their regular L.A. light pollution levels. He falls back into the driver seat heavily, chin against his chest, which puts him in the inconvenient position of staring right down at the pink fucking gem embedded in his sternum.
On top of everything else, why does it have to be this violently pink?
That couldâve gone worse, the snake slithers across the dashboard to audit the damage to the window. Donât turn back yet, the glass will repair itself in a few minutes.
âWhy canât it do that when Iâm normal?â he mutters. He doesnât want to be wearing a dress for a moment longer than itâs strictly necessary.
Itâs just faster this way, quit whining.
Just to add insult to injury, the gunk doesnât disappear with all the other magical shit. At least it looks more like motor oil than anything else â itâs enough of a pain to clean it up every time without someone calling the cops because Robbie keeps leaving dark alleyways covered in actual blood. With a sigh, he reaches under the seat to retrieve the paper towels and the disinfectant. Itâs easier if he wipes it off right away.
Someone clears their throat outside. The snake shoots his head up, instantly wary, while Robbie ducks down â the last thing he wants is for anyone to see him like this, ghost blood notwithstanding.
âHi,â he hears, before the crunch of gravel closing in on the car. âThat wasnât half bad.â
Robbie turns back around just in time for a blonde man in a leather jacket to lean down to peer through his window. He looks remarkably unfazed by having witnessed someone hammer thin air into submission, although he does look a little surprised when he takes in Robbieâs whole⊠thing. He gestures for him to roll down the window, and Robbie does, mostly out of sheer confusion.
Thereâs a motorcycle parked a few meters behind him. How long has he been here?
âUh,â the man takes a second to collect himself. âDamn, sorry, I thought you were an actual girl.â
Robbieâs going to grow an entire beard as soon as he gets out of here.
Heâs a witness, the snake hisses. You need to get rid of him.
âHey, now,â the man protests. âThat wonât be necessary.â
âYou can hear him?â Robbie asks dumbly, pointing at the snake. âDid youâsee? All that?â
The man inspects his nails while he talks. Theyâre painted flame-bright orange. It doesnât really fit his general biker aesthetic, and Robbie feels something like hope kindle low in his chest.
âI think you and I should have a conversation,â the man says. Then, as if a hilarious joke just occurred to him, grins and adds: âMagical girl to magical girl.â
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buried my hands in saffron
911  |   Buck/Eddie  |   Rated E  |   c. 4600 words
@911bingo prompt: Mutual Masturbation
The thing was, Eddie should have been ecstatic.
Three months ago, he had ended things with Marisol and sworn off dating again â because what was the point when you were never going to get over the big, beautiful gringo you'd been stupidly in love with for years? Four weeks ago, Buck had broken up with Natalia. And last week, after a marathon therapy session with Frank and a painful kick in the ass from Hen, Eddie had finally told Buck how he felt about him. He'd confessed, put his heart on the line. And Buck â well. Buck had been a little shocked at first.
âI wasn't shocked,â Buck said, looking to Hen and Karen for support. âYou make it sound like I was some fainting Victorian lady with my corset laced too tight.â
âFine, we'll pretend I didn't have to scrape your jaw off the floor,â Eddie said, skewering Buck with a look and grinning when he blushed.
âI wasn't shocked,â Buck insisted. âI've done stuff with guys before.â
âA lot's changed in the last decade, Buck,â Hen drawled, taking a sip of her wine.
Eddie's eyebrows shot up. âA decade, really? Also, how do you know it's been that long for him?â
Hen chuckled. âI keep forgetting you never met Buck 1.0. The day he found out I was a lesbian, he made a point of letting me know he'd kissed two guys in college and gone down on this really hot truck driver when he was hitching a ride to Montana, said it was â and I quote â âsome Jack Kerouac shit'. I threw up in my mouth a little.â
Karen covered her face with her hands to muffle her laughter. âGeez,â Buck muttered, âsee if I ever open up to you again. And it's been nine years, not that I'm counting.â
âIf I never hear about your blowjobs again it'll be too soon,â Hen said. Pointing a finger at both of them, she added, âFair warning.â
âOh, hell no,â Eddie said, âyou do not need to worry about that.â Even the thought of sharing graphic details of his sex life with his friends was horrifying.
âNot that we've ââ Buck started, and Eddie glared him into silence.
Karen leaned forward. âOkay, so after the shock wore off, what happened?â
Hen raised her eyebrows at her wife. âLook who's nosy.â
âListen, they're family now,â Karen said simply.
âAnd that means they don't owe us the details.â
Karen rested her chin on her hand and batted her eyelashes at Eddie and Buck. âNo, you're right, they absolutely don't.â
Eddie glanced at Buck, who was biting his lip to keep from smiling. âYou want to know who kissed who first,â Eddie said, mouth curving.
âI mean,â Karen said, âwe might have a whole five dollars riding on it, so that would be ââ
âOh please, we do not, I thought you were joking ââ
âI never joke about probability,â Karen retorted. âAnd the odds are definitely in my favor here ââ
âUh,â Buck said, raising a hand, âI think you're both gonna end up winning. Or losing, depending on how you look at it.â
read the rest at the AO3
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Elephant on the Road
or, How I Had To Re-Learn How To Drive After Two Decades
As you know, my father died over a year ago, leaving not only his apartment with a fully-stocked fridge, but also his car - a 2000 Nissan Patrol, at that point disassembled and split between a mechanic and a body shop, with the extensive repairs paid only halfway. A year later, it was finally put back together, with 3/4s of the drivetrain replaced, the frame rust-proofed and a new coat of Raptor finish in graphite color. Then, it stood at the local parking lot for five goddamn months before I got the courage to get behind the wheel and drive it.
So holy shit, there I was, trying to wriggle a two-ton War Elephant out of its parking space, some guy's shiny new Mercedes to the left, three trucks behind me and zero knowledge how the whole thing behaves - acceleration, braking, turn radius, I knew fuck-all about that. But, with some slight fettling, I got out of the parking space, out of the parking lot's gate and OHMOTHERFUCKERITURNEDTOOHARD. Literally, I turned the steering wheel too hard, jumped the curb, ran over the remnants of a decorative fence all of four inches tall and swung the car back onto the road in the initial stages of a heart attack.
Fuck. And I mean, FFFFFFFUCK. Turned out that the two-ton War Elephant has really nice power steering for a beast slightly more than half my age and I need to turn gently. So, down the street I go, letting the pedestrians cross the road as they have the right of way on crossings without traffic lights, the brakes aren't that bad either, the soundtrack from Brutal Legend is blasting from the radio because my dad bought one with an USB port long ago and then asked me to make a thumb drive with his favorite songs on it (which I, sadly, failed to do), I'm GOING. Baby, am I going. But then, I have to turn into the large avenue and I'm all kinds of afraid what's gonna happen then.
So, apparently, the first rule of the road is "act like everyone else, and nobody will suspect you don't have a driver's license" (I actually do, for the record, I just didn't have a car for the last two decades and the last one I had to drive was a rusted-out fifth-gen Nissan Sunny with a busted manual gearbox that had issues with switching gears). So I'm rolling down the avenue, regulation 50 per (km/h, mind you), and I haven't even killed anyone yet. I'm even using turn signals, correctly, because the War Elephant has an American dashboard with two separate turn indicator lights so I know whether I'm flashing left or right. So, off to the right lane and I tuuuurn right into another avenue.
Much to my joy, I see a "Speed Limit: 80" sign on the overpass (this one is a part of the large transit road through the town), so I floor it. I floor it so eagerly to keep on the tail of the guy before me that I go all the way to 100 per before noticing and gently slow down back to 80 before hitting the tunnel.
I fucking knew I forgot something, and that something were the headlights. Halfway into the tunnel, I turn the headlight knob, swearing and hoping that no undercover cop car saw me. Okay, now we're driving 100% legit, only one car honked at me, no hits, no scrapes, I stay in my line like a motherfucking tram. Off a roundabout that isn't a fucking roundabout (who even named it like that?!), down another street and after some more uneventful ride I arrive at my dad's former apartment to pick up some junk from the basement. Hell, even parallel parking was easy because someone was nice enough to leave a car and a half's worth of space between the two already there.
I forgot to turn off the lights, as you can see in the photo, because I'm a derp and I haven't figured out what the incessant pinging after turning the engine off meant. So I take the photo, notice the lights on, open the car again, turn the lights off and head to the basement to pick up the junk.
Coming back was a bit more difficult, mostly due to me being unable to tell which of the three turns left was the correct one (note to self, it's the third one, the largest), but it resulted in an "always wanted to say that" moment when some absolute fuckwad decided to cut from the right lane all the way to the left and up the overpass, prompting me to go "Turning left from the right lane, you unschooled dickwad?! Last time I've seen idiots like you in Night City!"
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hey, here's a secret
seeing as how im apparently not getting the full chapter out tonight on AO3 (boo), im gonna just put a sneaky little something* below the cut here
*by something, i mean the first 3K words of the next Starlight chapter. don't tell anyone. shh.
I'll probably delete this when the full chapter goes up, but seeing as how its been forever since i last posted and we left off on angst, im being gay and doing crimes (by which i mean, im posting a preview) đŒ
Cas was still, but his world was falling. The door slammed as Gabriel stormed out of the apartment, and he felt the sound reverberate in his bones. He gripped his wrist, hugging his arms tight against his body, trying to keep it all together.
Shame was a rigid thumbprint pressed to the notch of his windpipe. It was a clenched fist against his sternum. It was sinking emptiness in the place where his intestines used to be and his entire world falling apart.
Casâs fingers clenched so hard the bones in his wrist cracked.
He moved on numb limbs, ignoring the throb of inflammation as his arm swelled, ghosting through his apartment to grab the throw pillows off the floor and toss them onto his bed. Scoop up the bowls from dinner and set them in the sink. Grab the pan and scrape off the dregs into the trash.Â
He found he couldnât look at anything directly. He was scared to blink. Scared to breathe. His was a dry kind of horror, scorching his eyes until they were stuck wide open.Â
Outside, the roller door rattled as Gabriel shut the back of the U-Haul.Â
âCas, whatâŠ?â Luca heaved a shaky breath, swiping away tears on their sleeve. âStop.â
They hurried to Casâs side to press trembling fingers to his arm.Â
âStop that. Look at me.â
A bright flare of pain jolted through Casâs wrist as Luca wrested the pan from his limp grip, shoved it onto the bench to take his hand. He welcomed it. This pain was simple. This pain, he could understand.
âCas.â
The two of them stared at each other in numb silence.
âArenât you gonna go after him?â Cas mumbled at last. His tongue felt thick and clumsy in his mouth.
Beneath the beating thrum of rain, the driverâs door slammed shut. The engine of the moving truck rumbled to life. Another tear slipped free from the corner of Lucaâs eye. Cas watched its lonely path down the side of their nose, its momentum arrested when it caught on the seam of their lips.
âI sort of get the feeling that Gabriel needs his space right now,â Luca whispered. âBesides⊠Youâre hurting, too.â
Luca squeezed their eyes shut as the truck departed, holding their breath until Gabriel was down the road, around the corner â and then there was nothing. Nothing but awful silence and rain.Â
Sighing, Luca shot him a weak smile. âIâm not leaving you alone with all this.â
Cas blinked. âThe⊠dishes?â
âWhat? No, this!â Luca waved in a frantic circle in the air. âThis.â
Slowing, they let their hand come to rest gently over Casâs heart.
âOh.âÂ
Casâs eyes were growing hot in a way that bothered him. His nose was stuffy, and beneath the trembling warmth of Lucaâs palm, something in his chest felt cracked open.Â
âOh, right. âKay. Sorry, I justââ Cas cleared his throat. âNo oneâs ever really⊠Iâm not used toâŠâ
âWhy donât we put this down for a minute, there we go.â Luca tugged the wooden spoon from Casâs other hand, placed it calmly on the bench next to the pan. âYou and I are gonna go sit down on the bed â Iâll get you a glass of water, and then once youâve drunk that, we are going to talk about this, okay?â
Cas nodded blindly, still not really sure Luca was truly standing before him, or if they were just some kind of desperate hallucination he clutched at with filthy, blood-stained hands.
Was this⊠was this what it felt like to be loved? To have someone on your side, standing with you even in the darkness? Having someone in your corner, who loved you, and meant it, even when you fucked it all up? Even when you made a mess of everything?Â
Cas swayed on his feet.Â
âO-okay. Yeah. Alright.â
Reeling, Cas moved on autopilot as Luca led him to the bed. He clambered into an awkward seat against the wall, chugging back the glass of water Luca handed him.
He flinched slightly when Luca blotted the heels of their palms against his cheeks âwas he crying? Shitâ tucking their body against his side in a way that made them feel staggeringly, irrevocably, horrifically small.Â
And wasnât that the fucking problem?
Lucaâs mortal heart was one heâd cup in his hands and defend âtil his last breath.
Buckling, Casâs chest heaved in a quiet sob. Just one âthe taste of it bitterâ before he wrenched himself sharply under control. He didnât deserve to go to shit right now! Not when all of this was his fault. Not when Gabrielâs look of betrayal was burned into his retinas, his face washed with every ghost heâd ever known.
Luca nudged the token of reflection into Casâs palm, gazing up at him in silent question. A knot hardened in Casâs stomach.
âI was gonna tell you,â Cas blurted. âBefore all this shit went down, I was going to talk to the both of you. At the end of the day, it should be your choice â there just never seemed to be a good time to bring it up, you know? And nothing is set in stone, itâs justââ
He was rambling, wasnât he? Cas had felt fear plenty of times in his life, but this panic had a unique flavour of its own. He drew in a slow breath against the headache pounding behind his eye sockets, and tried again.
âItâs mandatory for a vampire to undergo a month-long period of reflection before formally proposing a change to their covenâs structure,â Cas said. âSometimes, that vampire wants to leave. Join another coven, like Nicoleâs mom did. More often itâsââ
Cas faltered, a little nervous despite himself. Unable to quite meet the elfin hazel of Lucaâs eyes, he settled on watching their pulse instead, flickering delicate in the thin shadows beneath their jaw.
âMore often itâs a request to bring a new member in. A request to⊠turn a human.â
****
Luca was quiet for a long, horrible moment.Â
Long enough for Casâs racing mind to thoroughly examine every decision heâd ever made that had led him to being such an absolute fuck-up of a boyfriend.
âYou donât think it might have been a good idea to talk to me and Gabriel about this first?â they said gently, after a literal fucking eternity. âBefore you brought this to Astoria?â
It was bizarre, the wave of relief that punched into Casâs chest, even as the stress churning through him tightened the knot in his stomach. He felt so much. He felt too much. All he knew was he loved Luca so fiercely it hurt.
Cas fought the urge to crush them close, cling to them until it truly sunk in that they werenât going anywhere.
âThere wasnât time,â he pleaded instead. Cas fisted his shaking hands on his knees, the coin cutting into his palm. He hissed as white-hot pain flared through his fractured bones. âAdalhard needs me to be the bad guy, here. Crimson BeechâŠ. itâs dangerous, for all of us right now, but especially for some little human punk with a rebellious streak and a habit of running around with vampires.â
The corner of Lucaâs mouth lifted in a wan smile. âHey, I understood the risks when I signed up for this.â
âWe donât know when this Creator is going to arrive,â Cas went on. âOnly that heâs coming. When his army of mutant freaks hits this town, itâs going to be a bloodbath for any human that gets caught in their wake â including you. Thereâs only so much Gabriel and I can do to keep you safe.â
âIâm not sitting it out somewhere safe,â Luca said. âThe three of us are seeing this through together, no matter what.â
âI know.â Cas shook his head. âIâm not asking you to stay behind â I wonât ever ask you to be someone youâre not. But, Luca⊠Youâre mortal. I just had to watch friends of mine âhundred-year-old vampires, some of themâ get torn to pieces by those Creations. Thereâs a good chance youâll get hurt,â Cas pressed. âHurt real bad. I know Golden Boy claims vampirism is the single worst plague on the goddamn planet, but what do you think itâll do to him if he sees you go down when youâre out kicking Creation ass? Bleeding out on the ground at his feet, after everything heâs lost?â
Abashed, Luca gnawed their lip. âOhâŠâ
âDo you really think heâll keep up this tirade of hating himself for no good reason if the alternative is you dying?â Cas asked. âHeâs not gonna keep lying to himself. Not if the cost is your life.â
Paling, Lucaâs breath caught. âWhat are you saying?â
Cas met his gaze head-on, even as his stomach twisted with worry.
âIâm saying â if things go bad, Gabriel will try to turn you to save your life.â
Lucaâs eyes flared with sudden understanding.Â
âAnd theyâll kill him for it. Oh my god, the core laws!â Luca clutched at Casâs arm in panic. âIf he turns me, he good as signs his own execution order!â
âIdeally, itâd be me that turns you,â Cas said. âThat way the both of you will be fine. But if something happens and he gets to you before I doââ
Luca shoved him hard, a shout exploding out of him. âYouâre not expendable, what the fuck, Cas?! I donât want either of you trading your life for mine!â
Despite the awkward position, despite the humanity in their diminutive frame, the blow actually stung. Fury was a dancing spark in Lucaâs eyes, behind it, a love that seared white-hot. Cas didnât know what heâd ever done to deserve Luca. Deserve his love. And seeing it so clear on his face only strengthened his resolve â heâd protect him no matter what.Â
âWith any luck, this Supreme One dicks around with his rebel buddies for a little while longer, and they donât attack Crimson Beech until after my period of reflection is up,â Cas said. âThen, if shit hits the fan, at least weâll have a plan to turn you that no one will have any problems with.â
âI thought Turnings were among your most sacred ceremonies?â
Cas popped his tongue.Â
ââŠO-kay, weâll have a plan to turn you that folks will have, like, half as many problems with.â
Unimpressed, Luca raised an eyebrow.
âHey, I never said it was perfect. Better that than an entirely unsanctioned turning. If it keeps you and Golden Boy alive and safe? Then itâs the best goddamn plan I ever thought of.â
Settling his arms on his bent knees, Cas tossed the coin onto the blankets between them. A smear of red shone on one of the decorative moons along the edge. Idly, Cas wondered if it was his blood or Gabrielâs.
âNo matter what happens, the two of you are getting out of this alive. And if that means making you, well, not alive, technically,â âCas grimacedâ âthen undead it is.â
Luca eyed the bloodied coin, their expression conflicted. âWhat if Gabriel tries to stop you?â
âIâll knock him out and turn you anyway.â
âCasâŠâ
âHeâll be pissed off, yeah,â Cas agreed. âDoubt heâll ever forgive me.â
Cas slumped farther down the wall, a nasty twist in his gut as the memory of Gabrielâs smile flashed to the forefront of his mind. He remembered exactly how the pair of them had sat on this bed, just last night. How Gabriel had joked that he could hate Cas a little, as a treat. How his mouth had tasted as heâd kissed him afterwards; Gabriel âhis Gabrielâ consuming his senses with warm, strong hands and laughter that held the promise of eternity.
Cas breathed in the scent of him still lingering on his sheets and let the memory sink deeper, a knife slipping sweetly between his ribs.
âBetter he hate me than hate himself,â Cas muttered. ââCause thatâs the other thing â Golden Boy will turn you, yeah. But heâll never forgive himself for it. If by some miracle the elders donât execute him, heâll have to live with that for the rest of his life. And you saw how that went down with him and me. And I was just some random dude! Youâre the love of his life! Gabriel has hated himself enough already for things that were totally out of his control.â
âJesus,â Luca said weakly. âWhat a mess.â
Cas nodded emphatically, for a moment at a loss for words.Â
Then, they added quietly, âGabriel loves you, too, you know.â
Those gentle words sliced into him with all the finesse of a guillotine. The air punched from Casâs lungs on a disbelieving laugh, a fractured ghost of a sound that dissolved into nothingness the moment it hit the air.
âSomehow,â Cas said, as his heart sheared clean in two, âI really doubt that.â
Luca watched him for a quiet moment.
âI donât.â
Fuck.Â
How could someoneâs heart squeeze with hope when it was broken beyond repair? Cas blinked against eyes turned stinging and told himself he didnât feel like he was dying.
âAnd I love you. I love you so much, Cas.â
Luca tipped onto their back, sagging with visible exhaustion, tugging at Casâs sleeve until he laid down beside them. They tangled their legs through Casâs, nestling their head in the crook of his shoulder to wind their arms around him.
âYouâre a big, dumb, wonderful idiot, and I love you with all of my heart.â
Luca scratched gentle fingertips at the nape of Casâs neck. Reassuring him, soothing him.Â
He didnât deserve it. He didnât deserve any of it.
Cas pressed his palm to Lucaâs spine, holding them with a gentleness heâd never managed before. Despite the pain, despite the guilt crawling over his skin, Cas cherished this moment. This new, delicately unfurling realisation of being loved unconditionally.Â
It was starlight, and spring mist, and everything Cas wished heâd ever known.
âWhat if I nearly die in a way thatâs really funny?â Luca asked, suddenly. âWould you still turn me then? Like, why are we so sure the situation has to pertain to my inevitable gruesome murder? What if I get trampled by a cow? Or die in a freak clown car explosion with little rubber horns?â
Cas blinked. Pulling back, he squinted down at Luca.
âDo you even hear the things that come out of your mouth sometimes?â
He didnât know whether to laugh or groan. Unfazed, Luca barrelled on.Â
âWhat if I trip over my own feet and like⊠fall down an elevator shaft?â They nodded decisively. âYeah. Thatâd be on brand for me.â
âDude.â
âCatch you and Gabe at my funeral like âIâll always remember his last wordsâ.â Lucaâs voice was totally deadpan. ââWhoopsâ.â
A sob burst from Casâs lips, masquerading as laughter.
âBe sure to put that as one of those memorial quotes they put on park benches.â
Cas laughed again. He couldnât stop laughing, his chest heaved with the force of it; he cupped the back of Lucaâs head and hauled them close, tucking their head beneath his chin so they wouldnât see him crying.
And then the dam broke.
Cas grit his teeth, trying to hold his silence as the sobs wracked his chest, thankful for the static hum of his crappy refrigerator, and the buzz of the generators from the industrial buildings down the road, and the relentless drone of the godawful rain that drowned out the cut gasps ripping from his lungs.
Cas sobbed so hard his throat felt shredded. Luca held him close all the while.
****
âYou seem one hundred percent sure that Gabe would try to turn me,â Luca murmured, a moment, or a month, or an eternity later.
The skin of Casâs face itched beneath the tear tracks.
âYeah, for sure,â he choked out, coughing past the sandpaper rasp in his voice. âThat loser has âsacrifice himself to save the one he lovesâ written all over him.â
Luca snorted. âIs that not exactly what you are doing right now?â
âY-yeah, butââ Cas sniffled. âYeah, but Iâm being way cooler about it.â
He couldnât see Lucaâs face, but Cas could feel the flat stare they were giving him.Â
âSure, Cas. Real suave.â
ââŠIâm beginning to reconsider this whole âkeep you around for eternityâ thing.â
âShut up. Youâd be so bored without me.â Wriggling against his side, Luca craned their neck to brush a soft kiss to Casâs cheek. ââŠTalk to him, okay?â
Cas sighed. âI will.â
Luca paused for a moment, drawing in a quick inhale that spoke of questions unasked. Cas let the moment hang; Luca could no more resist asking questions than they could resist breathing. Eventually they loosed a wry laugh, the tension ebbing as they peered up at him, a curious scrunch to their nose Cas had come to adore.
âYou realise you havenât even asked me if I want to be a vampire yet.â
âYouâ Why wouldnât youââ Cas blinked, mouth dropping open in sudden stupor. âOh, shit. Uhh, did you not wantâŠâ
Humming, Lucaâs eyes flicked to the ceiling. They smiled bashfully.
âI mean, I wonât pretend I havenât thought about it. A lot. I donât think Iâm exactly ready right now? But⊠Iâm not opposed to the idea.â
Casâs chest swelled with a fluttering warmth.Â
âYeah?â he breathed. He hardly dared to hope.Â
âMmm. One day. In the future. I donât want to rush into anything â like, turning me to save my life in an emergency, I totally understand,â Luca added, staring deep into Casâs eyes. âI hope it isnât necessary, but I get it, and you have my consent. But as for whether I want to be turned some day, regardless?âÂ
An impish grin danced across their face. Tugging him close, Luca slanted their mouth over Casâs, their kisses full and heartbreakingly tender.Â
Casâs hand came up to cup Lucaâs cheek, their skin warm and vibrant with life against his palm. Luca brushed the tip of their nose against Casâs, their eyes bright and adoring. Eager though he was for Luca to give him an answer, Cas couldnât resist stealing one more kiss.
âIf you are inviting me to spend the rest of eternity at your side,â Luca whispered against his lips as the two of them broke apart, âthen, yes, Cas. Yes, I want to be a vampire.â
****
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Fruits basket boys reactions to you getting overstimulated
Yuki, kyo, hatsuharu
Fluff
Yuki:
You stand behind him ears pounding with all the noises feeling like they are getting louder and louder trying to hold back tears as you slowly shuffle over to yuki and tug on the lower hem of his shirt and he turns around at you smiling but can see something is wrong as his smile slowly fades. âWhatâs wrong love?â He asks quietly bending down to your level âcan.. can we go pleaseâ you say as he slowly he realizes the situation at hand. He turned back around to the people he was talking to. âSorry guys but I think itâs about time for me and y/n to head out, thank you for the lovely partyâ he takes your hand gently rubbing circles on it with his thumb as he walks you out of the event and to the car. He opens the door for you and you slide into the passenger seat and he walks around the other side to the drivers. âAre you alright?â âA bit Better nowâ you say shakily.
Kyo:
Kyo is laughing loudly with his friends as you sit a couple feet away from him breathing heavy feeling extremely irritable and overwhelmed with all the bustling noises and people rushing around. Youâre holding back tears, refraining from asking kyo to leave because you can see him having such a good time (which is rare at things like this) you bring yourself to stand up and suddenly someone just barely grazes your shoulder and you nearly crumble to the floor. You run off into an empty hallway covering your ears as tears stream down your face and can hear the muffled sound of someone calling your name until two hands wrap around your wrists to try and pull them off your ears. âGET OFFâ you scream as he steps back. âY/n itâs just me, breath kittenâ the tears are pouring out now as he slowly moves closer to you. âWhy didnât you tell me you were getting overstimulated, we couldâve left so much soonerâ you look up trying to wipe away the tears that just keep falling âyou were having so much fun and I- I didnât want to distract you and ruin itâ ây/n, listen to me. Nothing is more important to me than you and how you are feeling. It wouldnât matter if I was having an amazing time or a horrible time, I would drop everything to help you and make you feel better. Let go homeâ you nod your head as he helps you to your feet and takes you out a back exit rather than forcing you to walk through the loud crowded room again.
Hatsuharu:
You, hatsuharu, shigure, yuki, and momiji are sitting in a booth at a restaurant. You can hear the clinking of every glass, forks and knives scraping on plates, the loud chewing of what felt like every single person in the entire restaurant.you start to get dizzy and tap hatsuharu a thigh under the table and text him even though heâs right next you you.
Y/n: Im sorry but can we please leave, Iâm not okay right now
Hatsuâ€ïž: whatâs wrong princess?
Y/n: itâs too much, can we just leave
Hatsuâ€ïž: yes love
Hatsuharu clears his throat and starts to stand up. âSorry guys, look like we are gonna have to head out early. Just got a group text from y/nâs parents that they need help with something in the house. If we donât go now I know I wonât hear the end of it and will be dealing with them bringing it up every time we see them for the next 6 months. âAright then, we will have to do this again another timeâ shigure says and hatsuharu puts a 20$ bill on the table and leads you out of the restaurant. In a whisper voice you say a quick thank you with your head down staring at your shoes as he walks you through the parking lot and helps you into the car. âThank you for telling meâ hatsuharu says as he starts to back out of the parking spot.
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The Boy is Mine
Pairing: Bruce Wayne x fem!Reader
Description: Y/N is attending a gala with her boyfriend, Bruce Wayne, when some girl tries to get touchy feely with Bruce. Y/N just wont stand for it.
Warning: Maybe some bad grammar, slight language, extreme jealousy and self loathing
A/N: Just a little scenario that popped into my head while I was at work this evening. Had to put it into words. Hope you enjoy. Also, "To love and to be loved. Chapter three" will be up on Monday so be on the lookout for it. Anyways, enjoy the story!
Revulsion: a sense of disgust or loathing. Also known as what I felt to see her smiling that coquettish smile at him. Trying, and failing, to place her poorly manicured hands on his bicep. Bruce is kind, he removes her hand gracefully. Anger burned my body as I tried to politely listen to the story being told to me by the girl next to me, Rachel or something⊠âSo thatâs basically when I felt like it was all over, ya know?â I nodded and hummed as a response. My eyes still trained on the girl trying to catch a moment of Bruceâs attention. I blinked and looked back at Rachel, âIâm sorry, will you excuse me? I just have to deal with something?â I didnât wait for a response as I walked over to Bruce. His smile got wider as we locked eyes. I reached my destination, carefully linking my arm with his. âHey everyone, sorry Iâm late to the party.â my eyes scanned over the group, offering them a smile. Finally, my eyes landed on her, her previous doe eyed smile had turned into something twisted, jealous. I offered my pearliest, fakest smile. Her returned smile was not so inviting, if I wasnât putting on a show, I might have laughed in her face. âIâm GeorgeannaâŠmodel.â She stated her profession as if it would intimidate me, extending her hand for a handshake. I glanced down at it, my smile faltering only a little. âY/NâŠGermaphobeâ I felt Bruce suppress a chuckle next to me, I continued âAre you new here, Brianna?â she rolled her eyes. âItâs Georgeannaâ
âGesundheit. So, what brings you to Gotham, Santanaâ, her face burned bright red as she stepped towards me, pointing her finger in my face. âOkay listen here you little bi-â
âOkay, you're gonna wanna get your LEE press ons, out of my face. And KEEP them off of my boyfriendâs 8,000 dollar suitâ she scoffed, not backing off. âYour boyfriend, huh? Thatâs cute. The richest man in the room, with the street trash?â
By now, almost the whole attendance of the gala was watching the catfight. Unfortunately, I am stubborn and unrelenting. Taking a few intimidation tactics from the âVengeance Playbookâ I took slow steps towards the brassy bottle blonde as I spoke âListen to me, Solana, and listen closely since you seem to be confused, he belongs to me, the boy is mine.â Before I knew it, her drug store nails were scraping down my face, one of them popping off of her finger and landing on the ground. Astonished, I reached up to my face feeling a tiny bit of warm liquid come away on my fingers. Rationality and mercy left my body as I balled my fists and leapt towards the woman, only to feel familiar arms wrapping around my waist right before my hand connected with her face.
âOkay, thatâs enough. Come on. Letâs go home.â Bidding his audience goodbye, Bruce offered me his arm and escorted me out of the gala. I held his arm all the way to the car. In complete silence, I relished in his touch. The gentleness that he only shared with me. Opening my door, he waited and made sure I was completely inside before shutting it and making his way to the drivers side. Sliding into his place, he rested his hand on my knee. I looked around the car, the sheer expensiveness of it, my eyes moving from the fine details of the car to Bruceâs suit. The kind of fabric I could only dream of as a child. Finally, I took in my own attire. A floor length, midnight black gown that Bruce had bought me for tonight. Bruce had bought me. Tears welled in my eyes as her words replayed in my head. âThe street trashâ her condescending laugh on a loop in my ears. Turning my head to look out the window, hoping Bruce wouldnât notice the sudden shift in my mood. But he did. He notices everything.
âHey. hey. What's wrong? Look at meâ he reached over, placing a finger under my chin, turning my head to face him.
âShe was right. I am street trash, Bruce. I mean, I work my ass off every single day, just to make ends meet and sometimes, itâs not enough. Did you even see the place you picked me up from today?â A sob escaped my lips, forcing me to take a pause in my unburdening. âThis isnât a fairytale, Bruce. This is real life. I am not Cinderella.â he sat back in his seat, brows knit together. âNo. youâre not Cinderella. You are Y/N.â I scoffed, about to cut him off and say something along the lines of âoh, well isnât that special?â but he continued. âYou are a breath of fresh air. You are beautiful. You are kind. You are stubborn. You are funny. You are so smart. You are mine. You are everything I didnât know I needed.â By the time he finished, I was sure my mascara had painted my cheeks. I furiously wiped my eyes and leaned over the middle of the car, bringing Bruce Wayne into a desperate, passionate kiss. Pulling away, I closed my eyes, wishing to live in this moment forever when the sound of his voice pulled me out of my dreamstate. âMove in with me.â
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Comfort
Word Count: 2,784
Status: Not Requested!
Fandom: GTA Series- GTAV
A/N: Love me some Trevor, so why not?
Relationship: Trevor Philips x GenderNeutral!Reader
Summary: Going out on a mission partnered with Trevor is one thing, but forced to go into hiding during a huge mission and a snow storm? A whole other level. And it never helps when your staying in barely-able-to-stand-on-its-own hotel apartments with minimal necessities. Great.
Warnings: language, age-gap pairing, blood mention, typical Trevor horniness, criminal activity, wounds, pretty fluffy honestly
Masterlist Grand Theft Auto Masterlist
(not my gif, credits go to @tendersugarr}
The truck leers to the side, tires screeching, and speedometer reading only Trevorâs standards of ânormal.â The other cars, not so far away, keep up the pace, edging ever closer to the ass end of the red pickup truck. As the truck makes a hasty turn, it takes everything in your power to stay grounded, or hell, even on the back of the truck. âGod- dammit- Trevor!â you yell out in frustration.
âOh sorry, I forgot to warn you that you had to hold on!â he answers, giggling just to add to your growing anger.
âIf you want me to actually hit the targets then stop fucking around! I have no problem in letting them toss your ass over the mountains!â
âSure you would Sweets...â
âDonât tempt me,â you warn sternly, properly getting back into position on your knees, the bitingly cold wind stinging every part of your body. You duck just below the back door of the truckâs flatbed, temporarily protecting you as you take a deep breath. Breathing slowly, you move, head coming up just enough to aim and fire, your sub-machine gun doing the rest of the work for you. But, just like before, Trevor makes another sharp turn, jarring you momentarily and smashing your head into the side of the truck. Shit.
This time, you donât even give Trevor the satisfaction of complaining again. Pissed off now from the pain and the annoyance of the undeterred enemies, you stand up bravely, positioning your legs, spreading them to keep you balanced even as Trevor makes slight -or drastic- maneuvers around ongoing traffic. Without a shed of anxiety, your body floods with adrenaline, shooting and never letting go of the trigger.
You nail the car up front, a clean shot to the drivers head. The car then smashes into the car beside it as the car runs off balance, the two going straight for a curb into a wall. The crash, shocking the men chasing us, makes the car veer off momentarily. But, as he goes to correct himself once more, jerking the steering wheel to where he wants to lead the vehicle, the high speed causes him to skid out, once more turning, but landing into another car, not enough to cause any serious damage just yet. Itâll give âem some time to take out the motorists. And so, turning your attention to the motorcycles on either side of the road, you take them out with your gun, the rain of bullets being too much for a slower bike.
Taking this as an opportunity, Trevor presses his foot all the way on the gas, booking it. Due to the withdraw of your adrenaline high, you lower your gun in a way that catches your side, hissing as the pain becomes suddenly overbearing. Lowering yourself the floor of the flatbed, you lean your back against the glass, and clutch your side. This is going to be a long ride. Unfortunately, for you, it was.Â
Having drove a long way from Michaelâs condo in Sandy Shores, Trevor and you had led the rivals away from Michael and Franklin long enough to steal the money. Settling somewhere in the mountains of the Grand Senora Desert. Huffing, Trevor puts the car in park after slowing on a discreet side road. âYa gonna get in the car or just sit in the fucking back all day?â he asks with his typical teasing nature.
By now, your vision is a blurring mess, having lost too much blood from such a simple scrape. Checking yourself, you lift your shirt lightly, noticing that it was just a graze, no actual damage. Nodding, you do not answer the man in the driverâs seat, just simply dragged yourself onto your feet, placing both hands on the side of the truck bed to steady yourself. Hopping off the edge, you stumble clumsily, but manage to open the passenger side door and climb in, a massive headache swarming inside your skull.
Settling into the seat, you put the seat belt on, close the door, and look out the window, still currently pissed at Trevor. Although unnoticed by you, he saw the red hue dying your already tattered white t-shirt. Luckily, he seemingly got the picture, not pushing the rest of the ways over to where Michael, Lester, and Franklin were currently hiding out: an abandoned warehouse in Backlot City. Indulging in the silence, you doze off peacefully, whether it was blood loss or sheer exhaustion, you paid no mind.
///
As the car came to a park, Trevor punches you in the arm, no shed of care laced in the force of it, in order to wake you up. âDick,â you mutter, rubbing the sore spot childishly.
âThatâs what you get for getting your drool all over my leather seats.â
âIf thatâs what you call 20-year-old seats with the cushions ripped out and stains decorating it, then yeah, I drooled all over your âleather seats.ââ
Walking into the the garage doors of the warehouse, you are instantly greeted by Lamar, Lester, Michael, and Franklin screaming at one another, having walked straight into an already full-blast-argument.Â
âThatâs fucked fool, and you know it!â Lamar yells at Lester, not enjoying the current proposition made.
âItâs the best we got!â Lester exclaims, getting out of his chair with a clack of his cane.
âWhatâs going on?â you ask quietly, the men instantly silencing and taking in the new figures that joined them.
âWe were just discussing what we should do now that youâve made a show out of what I specifically described as âdangerous, donât fuck it up!ââ Lester says instantly, pissed at the predicament.
âWoah, woah! What did we do?â Trevor finally pipes up, walking past your form to get in better view and proximity of the team.
âOh! I donât know! Maybe since your so fucking psychotic, you decided it would be fun to take a tour around town!â Michael screams, placing the blame on Trevor.
âIt got you out, didnât it?â
âThatâs not the damn point!â
Zoning out as the men continue to bicker, Lamar and Franklin create some distance between them as they go to stand beside you. âDamn, Y/N/N, you look like you got into some shit,â Franklin says worriedly, taking in your disheveled clothing, blood stains, messy hair, dirt and grim decorating your skin.
âJust part of the job...â
âNot really,â Lamar mumbles, taking you by the hand, âLetâs check it out before you come up dead.â
âGee, thanks L.â
Giggling, Franklin and Lamar lead you to a different room, instructing you to sit on the table as Lamar goes to get the med kit in the corner. Handing it off to Franklin, he instructs you to lift your shirt, the blood an alarming attraction as you lean over cock-eyed in order to alleviate pain. Giving in, you slip out of the armhole, hand coming underneath the shirt to lift it completely to one side, your ribs at complete view.
âOh shit, that shitâs nasty,â Lamar fake gags, covering his mouth with his shirt and making a swift exit from the room, back to the other men.
âPussy,â Franklin quips, stealing a giggle from you.
Making quick work, Franklin wipes the cut with alcohol, the cut being quite deep, but just enough to not require stitches. Explains the blood, I guess. Once completed, Franklin nods awkwardly, moving away to put the med kit back and walk out of the room. You soon follow tiredly, finding the guys to now be settled in a way. âSo, whatâs the plan?â
âSince I was behind the screen rather than in person, I am not much of a target. Franklin, Lamar, and Michael were on the street over when you and Trevor supplied a diversion, so theyâre not much of targets either. As for you two, however, you are targets! ...That is, unless they didnât see your face?â Lester asks.
âI know theyâd seen me, I can admit to that, but I donât think they saw Trev. He was driving while I was shooting and shit on the flatbed. Those guys got pretty close too.â
âWell, in that case, that means you guys have to go into hiding, go off the grid for a little bit. Now- before you start your shit- I also suggested the guys do too, no one really knows if there were security cameras or snipers? We didnât get that far, is what Iâm saying. Iâll do it too if it makes you feel better,â Lester coaxes.
Youâd know what hiding did to a person. Shit, look at Trevor. When he lost Michael, he was forced to go into hiding all alone, and now heâs teetering off the deep end slowly. Asking the question for him, you side-eye Trevor before asking, âHow long and how many people each?â
âGlad you asked. Iâm saying about 3-4 weeks, theyâre big business people. As for how many people, I suggest pairs of two, that way, if shit hits the fan, you have another person to rely on. And, of course, me at your disposal. But, itâs not required either. If you want to stay off by yourself, be my guest.â
âGreat, in that case, Iâm going home. The wife and kids havenât decided to move back in yet anyway, so if someone breaks in, Iâll be able to hide,â Michael says, grabbing his coat and starting to zip it up as he enters the great cold abyss of the outside world.
âMe and Frank can stick together too.â
âYeah, Lamar can crash at my new crib, thereâs enough space,â agrees Franklin.
As the pair leave, Lester sits back down in his rolley chair, Trevor staring at the ground with you beside him. âI know itâs gonna be tough Trev, but youâre gonna be fine. No oneâs dead this time, weâll all be here when the heat dies down,â Lester tries to reason with him, Trevorâs closed off demeanor slightly scaring him. Looking at you for assistance, you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose, but giving in.
âLetâs go Dickhead, weâve got places to be,â you say, pulling the back of his sweatshirtâs hoodie, going to put yours back on as well.
Snapping out of it, he looks at you surprised before his signature grin appears once more, âI knew you couldnât resist me, Doll.â
âDonât flatter yourself and get in the car, Iâm freezing my tits off already.â
Chuckling he quips with, âI could change that for ya,â followed by a punch in the chest as you walk around the front of the truck, entering in the passenger seat. This is going to be a long ride.
///
Upon signing into the old rundown motel, you were gifted with being stuck in a one bed, one bath, small apartment with barely any fluent running water or even proper heating and conditioning. The heater was old, so when you sent off for the shower, you tried to tinker with it the best you could. It didnât work. With a stutter and a pop, the heater broke, not even a slight breeze of heat radiating from it. âFuck!â you scream, irritated.
âHey, hey! Calm down sugar lips! Itâs just a heater!â Trevor laughs, clearly amused at your distraught.
âOur only heater,â you spit, the cold already settling into the small 4 walls of your room.
âYouâll be fine,â Trevor starts, edging you right towards the start of another argument.
âIâm getting in the shower, go entertain yourself before I choke your ass.â
âWant me to join ya?â
âNo!â you yell, slamming the bathroom door, which rattles the apartment, and lock the door.
Once you felt refreshed enough, you walked back into the main room in sweatpants, tank top, sweatshirt, and socks that rode up your shins. It was your only resort for now, it would just have to do.
âHey Trev?â you ask.
âYeah?â he responds nonchalantly.
âDo you think we could go to a different motel tomorrow? I canât make it a few weeks here... let alone a day.â
âWe could try, but there isnât many that are as secluded as this one.â
âThat works for me,â you say smiling as you perch yourself next to him on the bed, sticking to your side, and yanking the covers up to your nose. Sheets, you sneer.
After a while, the sun sets, and youâd ordered a pizza, the pitch black having escaped into your room through the blinds. Flipping on the lamp, you look over at Trevor. Heâd stayed silent after you last spoke to him about switching motels, and since then, he didnât complain, or crack a joke, or even make dirty analogies and comments. Something was off, but you quickly rid the idea as he looks over at you with a soft smile. Maybe he was at... peace?
You smirk back at him, getting back into bed after grabbing a drink. âYou gonna keep staring at me or you gonna tell me whatâs going on in there?â you ask, pointing at Trevorâs forehead.
At first, he stiffens, trying to give an excuse of âbeing tired,â but after reading your expression, he knew he had to come up with something better. Staying silent for a few more moments, he eyes the TV again before speaking, âWhen you asked about switching motels, you said âwe.â As in the both of us.â
âYeah? Thatâs what the word âweâ typically means?â
Rolling his eyes, he side-eyes you sarcastically, âWhat I meant was why? You didnât have to go with me, but you did, and now weâre stuck in a shitty ass apartment under my call. ...You shouldâve left. You couldâve been at home or somewhere in Sandy Shore or some shit better than this raggedy, old, cold ass, piece of shit fucking room - with me. ...Why?â Trevor rants, confused and slightly pissed. Almost as if you just shouldn't have been here whether you had the choice or not.
Stuttering at a loss of words, you pause, âI-â Clearing your throat, you try again, âI mean, youâre right... I couldâve been anywhere in the world right now, in a warm bed, with a warm heater, and great internet. But- But it wouldnât be the same, would it? Believe it or not Trev, you grew on me quite a bit, and I care for ya- a lot. I knew you had some sort of PTSD or some shit like that after losing Michael and I- I just didnât want ya to have to go through this shit on your own. Hell, I didnât want to go through this on my own...âÂ
â...Well ainât that a bitch!?â Trevor pipes after a moment of silence, âYouâve got a crush on me!â
âOh shut up,â you mutter, cheeks growing red in embarrassment.
âThereâs nothinâ to be ashamed of, I get it. Iâm quite the looker.â
âOh come on Trev, shut up!â
Laughing as you shove his shoulder, he grabs your hands playfully, trapping both wrists in one of his hands. The other grabbing your hip and pushing you into him. Breath hitching in your throat, you take in the close proximity, feeling his calmed breaths fanning your cheeks. Exchanging looks at each otherâs lips and eyes, Trevor pushes himself into you, pressing his lips to yours sloppily.Â
Giggling like a child, you pry your hands out of his grasp to loop them around his neck and into his hair, tugging at the nape with a moan. Your tongues mingled in a dance, fighting for dominance. Biting down on his bottom lip, he grunts in pleasure, making you smile into the kiss.Â
Lungs begging for oxygen, you pull away from his face, lips red and bruised fro your escapades. Looking at each other, you both share goofy grins, yours instantly dropping as Trevor goes to say something, knowing itâd kill the mood. Instead, you kiss him again, and again for that matter.
That night, despite it being spent on a thin, cold mattress, room, and thin blanket, you slept comfortably. Trevorâs body cradled yours throughout the whole night, Mr. Raspberry Jam not being needed for comfort. You were his comfort. Somehow, in this fucked up world, you understood him, and that was all that mattered to him.
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hatred - Charles Leclerc
I think I might make this into a mini series with an enemies to civil with each other to friends to lovers kind of vibe but I'm still not sure, anyways here's Charles x reader wanting to rip each others throats but instead end up ripping each others clothes off
gonna dedicate this to the lovely @yungbludzâ happy birthday <33
GIF NOT MINE
warnings; smut as per usual, Charles being very egotistical, choking, language, enjoy <3
2k wordsÂ
part two
It was safe to say you and Charles hated each other. You knew hate was a strong word, but you also knew that you felt nothing but hatred for the man. You hated his cocky smile and the fact that everyone seemed to be obsessed with him. You also hated the fact that you had to spend the whole weekend with him.
You worked for Ferrari, meaning that, unfortunately, you had to spend a lot of time with Charles. You were actually excited when you first got the job of being Charles Leclerc's PR manager. You had admired the driver and couldnât wait to work alongside him, but that all changed once you actually met him and realised what an ass he really was. Everyone else loved him, of course, because he seemed to be nice to every single person on the planet except you.
You and a select number of the Ferrari team had been invited to a special charity event taking place in the ballroom of a luxurious hotel. You had all decided to check into the hotel the day before the event, in order to save time and familiarise yourself with the venue. Of course, according to your job description, you also had to run through the possible questions Charles could be asked with him.
Although Charles loathed you, he had to admit you were good at your job and managed to prepare him for every possible scenario, which is why he hadnât begged Mattia to fire you, at least not yet.
You sighed as you reached the check in desk, all you wanted to do was flop onto the hotel bed and sleep until the morning. You gave the lady behind the desk your name and watched as she quickly typed on the computer in front of her. âAh yes, Y/N and Charles, room 506â
Your eyes widened at her words as you shook your head. âNo no, that canât be rightâ you pleaded as you leaned your arms against the counter.
âIm sorry ma'am, but the booking is for the both of youâ she explained with apologetic eyes as she handed you the room key.
âTake your time, Y/N. Not like we arenât all exhausted from our long tripâ you heard Charles scold from behind you. You quickly turned around and shoved the room key into his chest.
âPolitetly, go fuck yourself, Leclercâ you muttered as you shouldered past him and walked straight to Mattia on the other side of reception. Mattia sighed once you walked over and gestured for you to begin arguing with him, he knew it was going to happen.
âWhy? Why would you stick me in a room with that-that imbecile!â you snapped.
âListen, Y/N, i know how much you dislike him and vice versa, but everyone had to be paired with someone and I thought this was the best option for you bothâ he explained with a soothing voice.
âWhy do I have to be with her?â you heard Charles ask from behind you. You felt small standing in front of him, his broad frame practically trapping you between him and Mattia.
âY/N is your PR manager, it's her job to prepare you for this eventâ Mattia once again calmly explained
âAnd she couldnât do that over breakfast?â Charles inquired, you could feel his tense gaze on the back of your head and you whipped around scoffing at him as you placed your hands on his hips.
âDonât act like this was my idea! Not everyone wants to share a room with you Charles, get your head out of your assâ
Charles opened his mouth to throw a rude remark your way but Mattia stopped him before he got the chance. âThe both of you are sharing this room, whether you like it or not. I think everyone would prefer if you took this time to sort out your problems instead of bickering like children. Iâll see you both at breakfast. Goodnight,â he scolded as he walked off with his luggage in tow.
You felt your cheeks redden as embarrassment creeped up your shoulders. âAre you trying to get me fired?â you accused Charles as you grabbed your own luggage and made way for the elevator.
He shrugged in response, âWouldnât be the worst thingâ he muttered, stepping inside with you. You pressed your floor number and sighed in frustration. âCan you stop breathing so loud?â he groaned, rolling his eyes.
âIt was a sigh, dipshit.â
âTrust me, i don't want to be near you as much as you don't want to be near meâ
âGlad we're on the same pageâ you replied, stepping out of the elevator and storming to your room, which in hindsight was a foolish idea as Charles had the key and you had to wait for him as he took his sweet time walking up the hallway.
He unlocked the door with a smug look on his face and stepped in before you, dropping his luggage on the floor as he surveyed the room. âYou have got to be kidding meâ he complained once he saw the double bed in the middle of the room.
âOh what is it now, Charles?â you asked as you shut the door behind you âis the carpet not to your liking? Is it too bright? Are there no chocolates on the pillowâ you continued and slipped off your shoes, âdo you want me to - oh shitâ you cursed as you saw the predicament you both were in. âLooks like you're sleeping on the floorâ you shrugged whilst walking towards the bed.
âI am NOT sleeping on the floor,â Charles complained.
âWhat? And you think I am?â you argued, once again placing your hands on your hips.
âI donât see why not,â he commented, crossing his arms across his chest.
âI am not sharing a bed with you, Leclerc! So you,â you jabbed a finger at his chest, âare going to have to step off your mighty throne and take the gentleman approach and sleep,â jab âon,â jab âthe floor,â you snapped.
Charles raised his eyebrow as he stared at you. You could cut the tension between the two of you with a knife, it was almost unbearable. You had never fought this long, somebody had always interrupted you both before you got the chance to really push each other's buttons. âI'm going to say this nice and slow, sweetheart,â Charles growled, taking a step forward, you in turn took a step back as you removed your finger from his chest, âIâll take the high road, we can share the bed just this once, as long as you stop acting like the spoiled princess that you will never beâ he continued to walk towards you as he spoke and you were eventually trapped against the wall.
Charles moved his hand to lie on the wall next to your head, the distance between the two of you becoming smaller and smaller by the second. âI might be ready to step off my throne but are you ready to be a good girl and step off yours too?â he concluded.Â
âBite me, Charlesâ you retorted and something in the both of you snapped as you grabbed his face in your hands and he roughly grabbed your waist. Your lips violently pressed against his as your tongues practically fought against each other. You almost moaned at the force of his kiss, but refused to give him the satisfaction.
Charles pulled away, giving your mouth a final short kiss before he moved to mark your neck. âCome on, princess. Stop being stubborn for once in your life and let me hear the noises that you can make''
You however kept your mouth shut, Charles smirked and shrugged his shoulders. âIf that's how you want to play it,â he smirked before gently grabbing your breast and slipping his hands into the waistband of your leggings. He rubbed circles on your clit as he pinched your nipples. âI want to hear you, sweetheart,â he grunted.
You rolled your eyes back in pleasure and involuntarily let out a moan. Charles felt his dick twitch in his pants and cockily grinned as he kissed right under your nose. âGood girl,â he whispered. It wasn't long before his trousers were discarded as well as your own leggings. You hadnât moved however and were still pressed up against the wall. âAre you sure you want this?â he asked and although you felt your heart skip a beat you rolled your eyes at him and nodded.
âYes, please just - just hurry upâ you squirmed against the wall. That seemed to be all the validation he needed. He slowly put a condom on before easing into you. You scrunched your eyes at the uncomfortable feeling and tapped him to move. Your lips parting on their own accord as the feeling was replaced with pure pleasure. Charles forcefully grabbed your legs and wrapped them around his waist, providing him with a better angle for both himself and you.
âO-oh shitâ you moaned as you scraped your nails down his shoulders to his arms, which left harsh red marks in their wake. Charles moaned at the feeling and you were almost aroused by the sound. Almost.
One of Charles hands were digging into the soft flesh of your thigh while the other moved to wrap itself around your neck, his signature pinky ring digging into the flesh of your skin causing you to mimic his actions and let out a moan at the pain.
âYou like that?â he grunted as he continued to thrust into you, lightly placing some pressure on your throat, not enough to suffocate you, he didn't hate you that much, but enough for you to enter a state of pure bliss.
âI hate you, Leclercâ you found yourself muttering but you certainly did not hate him at that very moment.
âFeelings mutual, loveâ
You continued to scrape your nails across his back, desperate to pull more moans out of him. Charles however, didn't like being the only vulnerable one and removed his hands from your throat, he grabbed both of your hands in his own and shoved them upwards, beginning his assault on your chest.
Your toes curled as he hit all the right spaces, you knew you were close but you really didnât want to be the first one to let go. Charles could feel the clenching of your walls and smirked into your chest. âAre you close, princess?â he asked, bringing his mouth to your lips and for some reason you found yourself kissing him back.
âNoâ you blatantly lied.
You moved your head closer to him when he pulled away but he refused to connect your lips once more and you found yourself pouting at the lack of attention. God, how pathetic had you become.
âNow, i knew you were a spoiled brat but i didn't take you for a liar as wellâ
âGlad to know your ego has no off moments, Charlesâ you scoffed and were about to start an argument before he began slowly pounding into you, his precise thrusts made it extremely difficult to formulate a sentence let alone hold onto the knot in your stomach. So, against your brain telling you not to, you let go.
You would have fallen onto the ground if it wasnât for Charles' strong grip trapping you against the wall and his own body. The noises that he made as he reached his own high caused your heart to flutter in your chest and you began to wonder if having sex with him was a bad idea.
âAre you okay?â he asked after he had pulled away from you. You nodded your head as you furrowed your eyebrows
âYeah, why wouldnât I be?â you asked.
You were surprised the both of you were capable of having a normal conversation, but you supposed nothing could be normal between you after that.
Charles gently ran a finger across your neck and by the look on his face you knew you looked worse for wear. âI kind of lost myself in the moment, Iâm sorry if I hurt you. Really I amâ he clarified.
âIts okayâ you sighed as you rubbed your neck, âlets just go to sleepâ
âIâm still not sleeping on the floorâ
âJust stay on your side of the bed, Leclercâ
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a year in the life | rockstar! s.s.
pairing: rockstar!sebastian stan x writer!reader
main work: i wanna know what love is
season: autumn đ
a/n: in celebration of 4 major works of mine turning one this year (my babies, cannot believe itâs been a year) and based on the reboot of gilmore girls, i will be revisiting my works per season. we are starting with autumn and rockstar!seb. hope you enjoy xx
Y/N laid on the big chez lounge couch in the middle of her living room, surrounded by her childrenâs toys, with a large bowl of Doritos on her lap as the Real Housewives played on the background. For the very first time since forever, she was alone at home; Jess and Marion were at their respective schools while Sebastian was busy in the studio, doing some rearrangements to a new album. She loved the three of them more than anything but she knew that she wouldâve never had the chance to eat Doritos without Sebastian complaining it was unhealthy for her or her children trying to take a bite. Lately, all she wants is to lay low, bask in her leave from work and watch some trashy TV.Â
As her eyes were getting heavier and heavier with sleep when the front door opened, sending her back into alert mood. Luckily, it wasnât no one trying to break in but her husband who still couldnât open doors without making a big ruckus about it.Â
   - Iâm sorry, bunny. - he stepped back as he recognised his wifeâs sleepy face. - I thought youâd be in the bedroom.Â
   - Canât move. - she pointed at her bulging bump covered by one of his old jumpers which seemed to be the only thing that fully covered her at this particular stage. Sebastian chuckled, walking over to her to quickly kiss her, hand caressing her bump through the jumper. - Didnât expect you to be home so early.
   - I can see. - he pointed at the bowl of Doritos on her lap. - Youâre supposed to be the prudent one.Â
  - Iâm carrying your offspring. It makes me make bad decisions. - she teased, cuddling against him as he sat by her side, worn out slightly loose black leather jacket still on. - How are the boys?
  - Fighting about who gets to be godfather this time.
  - Did you tell them my brother is gonna be the godfather?
  - Now, where would the fun be in that, bunny? - he smirked, with that boyish like looks he still managed to remain after all these years.Â
  - Stop it. - she leaned towards him to kiss him.Â
  - How are you feeling today? - his hand mindlessly rubbed her bump, feeling the little moves of the baby whenever the baby moved. - Little one is a bit feisty today.
  - Itâs been like this all of last night. I think I might be closer to labour than we think.
  - Why didnât you tell me? I wouldâve driven the kids to school, honey love.Â
  - You needed to sleep. - she groaned as she stretched her legs. - Besides, Marion is staying with your mum today so I wanted to spend some time with her before she went.Â
  - No kids tonight? - he leaned over to kiss her collarbone. - How long has it been?
  - As long as Iâve been pregnant. - she pushed him away playfully. - Jess is not going.Â
  - Why not? Jess loves my mum. Is he sick? Urgh, is the flu going around his class again? We need to put him into a better school, those kids at his school are always s...
  - Seb, stop. - she rolled her eyes, smiling at the same time at how heâd gone from let it be to constant rambling about his childrenâs wellbeing. - He just wants to be home tonight and heâs been a little sad lately.Â
  - Youâre sure heâs not sick? Because thereâs this private school which tests kids for all those flu things.
  - Heâs not sick. Heâs just got ... a bit of a lovebug. He got like this when I was last pregnant with Marion.Â
  - Well, at least he hasnât decided that the baby is just not coming. - Sebastian referred to Marion. Their daughter had just decided there was no baby coming around, even after being offered her own bedroom with her own bathroom, just for herself. - Iâll go pick him up, make it a whole thing. Maybe even pass by Alâs ... get you that pasta you really like.Â
  - Youâre just trying to make me forget that youâre the reason weâre moving houses.Â
  - Y/N, this house has always been too small.
  - Thatâs because you need a whole room for your guitars alone.Â
Sheâd spend the best part of her initial married years trying to convince Sebastian to either get a storage unit to put all his guitars in or to just merge it with his office yet, heâd always come back with an excuse. âHoney love, they need to be displayedâ, âBunny I would just get distracted if they were in my officeâ he would tell her with his rockstar like charm which she thought was strong enough to resist, yet how can she say no when he immediately shifts from boyish smile to having her pressed against the wall of that very same room, pounding into her as if he was an up and coming rockstar and her his favourite groupie. With the need for that bedroom, their once spacious apartment they bought when she was pregnant with Jess was becoming too small. Normally Y/N would be okay with it but being 8 months pregnant during the fall where it constantly rains in New York, moving seemed like the last thing sheâd like to do and just thinking about it made her tired already. After all, she could barely walk to the kitchen without feeling tired or taking a short break in the middle of the path. She thought that after two pregnancies, the third one would be a walk in the park. Turns out itâs more like a run in the park, except the park is on fire and sheâs barefoot.Â
  - Honey love, asking me to get rid of my guitars is like asking you to get rid of your five copies of Emma.
  - Theyâre in different languages. - she argued back.
  - Theyâre different models, besides, we can finally have a guest bedroom. You always wanted a guest bedroom.
  - Sure then maybe my grandfather will come visit more often. How about that? - Sebastian chuckled at her answer. - Iâm not joking. You get me pregnant, you get to be annoyed by my grandfather.Â
  - Youâre acting like this is my fault when you were the one who wore fishnets with a leather skirt. Iâm only human.Â
  - Fine, 10% my fault, 90% you fault. Thatâs my final offer.
  - You sure?Â
  - Yes. You see, you are a sex maniac who cannot be controlled.Â
  - Thatâs not what you wrote about me. - he smirked. - You said I had more soul than just a sex pot.Â
  - Do not quote my own words at me.
  - You bought my old guitar.
  - Urgh ... - she rolled her eyes. Sebastian grinned, happy heâd won the debate. - Just go make the other mums jealous please.
  - Look at you, using me for my sex appeal only.
  - No. I just really enjoy being the powerful mum.Â
  - Yeah? Whatâs that like?
  - Constant questions about if we do weird sex blood rituals. Then mysterious answers, so they all fear you and donât force you to attend PTA meetings on date nights.Â
  - I gotta say, bunny ... we got this parenting thing covered.Â
  - We do.
  - When I come back, you better not have a bowl of Doritos on your belly.
  - Iâll do whatever I want.
  - Sure, bunny, if you walk to the kitchen by yourself ...
  - Low move, Stan. Low.
  - You love me. - he chuckled, grabbing his keys from the trinket dish by the entry door. - See you soon, bunny.
  - Love you. - she scrunched her face in a little smile which he couldnât help but smile back.
Sebastian liked to pick up Marion and Jess from school. His schedule normally meant Y/N, who had a more 9-5 job, was the one whoâd do the drop offs and collections so heâd always meet them at home but whenever he could pick them up, heâd be the first one there. He just loved to see his two babies come out of school in their little uniforms which he incredibly hated when they first enrolled but now couldnât help but find incredibly adorable. He also loved to see how both his children came out of school. Marion would be the one whoâd take the longest, surrounded by all her friends and probably nursing a scrape or two on her knee as if kindergarten 2-3 year old was a big fighting ground while Jess would come out as quickly as he could.Â
He parked slightly in front of his sonâs school, coming out of the car and leaning against it. The parentsâ eyes were immediately on him, maybe it was due to the star power or, most likely, it was because he was wearing a leather jacket, dark shades and his neck tattoo could be seen peaking out the collar of his jacket. His shoes crinkled the fallen leaves on the floor, avoiding those looks as he waited for his son. He knew who he was and he was not going to change it because he became a father, he is a good father, he knows that. The bell rang and a swarm of children came rushing out of the school, and they say birth rates are low. He took his sunglasses off, trying to pin point his son in the middle of all different aged children.Â
  - DAD! - he turned his head to the memorable voice, crutching down as he son rushed to him. Jess wrapped his arms around his father, little childish giggles as Sebastian pulled him off the floor.
  - Hey, buddy. How was school?
  - We did hand turkeys.
  - Hand turkeys? No way, thatâs so cool. - he opened up the carâs passengerâs seat, sticking around to check if he fastened his seatbelt correctly before taking the driverâs seat. - Itâs just gonna be us three today, bud. You, me and mummy. We getting Alâs and some ice cream.Â
  - Why didnât mummy come?
  - Mummy is very tired, buddy. The baby is kicking a lot, wonât let the baby sleep.
  - Oh ... - Sebastian saw his sonâs face grow sadder.
  - What do you want from Alâs, bud? You can get whatever you want.
  - Really?
  - Yeah.
The little restaurant had soon become a staple in their family life. Sebastian had. discovered by accident after accidentally burning dinner for Y/Nâs. He wasnât already too popular with Y/Nâs family so he knew he had to fix it and there it was, the small little restaurant filled with delicious food. Now, it was just a Friday night tradition yet today was special, almost nostalgic to when Y/N, Sebastian and Jess had their first home. Back when Y/N and him were new parents and would trip on every toy in the apartment. God, those were the days.Â
 - Dad? - Jess pulled at his sleeve while the two were waiting in the queue.Â
 - Yeah, bud? - Sebastian picked him up, already understanding the signs of whenever he wanted to be held.Â
 - I ... The babyâs not coming for a while, right?Â
 - Why, Jessie? What did Marion say?
 - She didnât say anything ... uhm, itâs gonna be three of us now.Â
 - Yeah. Weâre gonna get a new big place, we can even get a dog or a cat. You always wanted a cat, didnât you?Â
 - But, now Iâm third.
 - What do you mean? - Sebastian furrowed his brows at the comment.
 - Well, when Marion was a baby you and mummy were always with her but sheâs still a baby and now thereâs a new baby, so Iâm gonna be third. - Sebastianâs heart broke at that comment. Now it made sense. - And ... youâre not home a lot and mummy is gonna be busy with the baby.
 - Hey, youâre not third. - he rubbed his sonâs back, kissing the side of his head, soothing him to the best of his ability. - You want me to be home more?
 - No, daddy ... you like doing music.Â
 - Hm ... how about you come to the studio with me when you donât have school?
 - Really? But you said Iâm too little.Â
 - Well, youâre gonna be a big brother again, I think itâs time.
 - Really?
 - Yeah. - he smiled him, his smile reflecting back at him.Â
 - Faye.Â
 - What?
 - We should name the baby Faye.Â
 - Faye? You want your baby sister to be named Faye?
 - Yes.
 - Well ... Faye it is.
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Trippinâ on Tequila
thank you for the lovely request anon! I had a lot of fun writing this
Ina x MC
warnings: fluff, drunkenness and grazes
tag list: @ikingsley @swimmingshoebakerydreamer @kaitlynliaofanxx @barnibumblr @veenast @livvynka @hellyeah90sbaby @kwaj115
lmk if u wanna be added to the tag list!
also lmk what u guys think of this length of fic. is it too long?? should it be longer?
âââââââââââââââââââââââ
âBea, why are you calling this late?â Ina doesnât even bother to sit up in bed as she answers the call, rubbing her eyes groggily
âUm, hi Ina. I mean, professor. This is Zoeyâ
Ina bolts upright, immediately worrying if something bad had happened to Bea
âZoey, is everything all right?â
Zoey looks over to Bea, who is sat down on the sidewalk with her shoes in her hands (sheâs completely out of it)
âYup, tooooootally fine. I just wanted to ask if you could pick Bea up from the clubâ
âOf course, Iâll leave immediatelyâ Ina throws off her duvet and searches for a hoodie to wear over her pyjamas. She finds one belonging to Bea and puts it on, the sleeves falling down to her fingertips; the hoodie mustâve been left behind from one of Beaâs previous *ahem* late night visits
âWow, really? No questions asked? Bea is one lucky girl. I mean, hypothetically of course.â
âZoeyâ
âI donât know anything about what you and Bea get up toâ
âZoey!â
âNot a siiiiingle thingâ
âZoey! Iâm aware that you know the true nature of myself and Beaâs relationshipâ
Was relationship even the right word? Bea and Ina hadnât made anything official, nor had they made any promises to each other. This sudden doubt makes Ina feel uneasy, and she quickly tries to pull herself out of this spiral of overthinking
âOh, okay! Anyway, the ambulance is here now, got to go. Byeeeeeâ
âAmbulance? What ambulance?â It was too late, Zoey had already hung up
With worry eating at her, Ina drives as hastily as the law allows until she pulls up outside the club. She spots Bea talking to a pair of girls she doesnât recognise, and relief floods through Inaâs body to see Bea in one piece.Â
Ina goes to throw open the car door but quickly reconsiders when she remembers sheâs still wearing her pyjamas and most definitely looks dreadful. Her hair is messed up and she isnât wearing any makeup at all; dark circles rim her tired eyes and she can barely keep them open. She honks the horn of her car once which, unfortunately for Ina, does not get Beaâs attention
Bea looks to be telling some kind of elaborate story as she gestures wildly at the girls before her, only one of the shoes sheâd taken off was still in her hand (who knows where the other one was.)Â After swinging her arm so widely that she nearly hits one of the girls in the head with her shoe, the pair depart from Bea. Ina decides this would be a prime opportunity to honk her horn again.Â
This time Bea hears and, after looking for several seconds, finally manages to locate Ina. She waves overenthusiastically as a grin breaks across her face and begins to run over to the car. She doesnât make it far though, as she begins to stumble on unsteady feet. Without thinking, Ina throws open her door and rushes over to Bea, barely managing to catch her as she begins to tumble
âHi there, gorgeousâ Bea tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and grins at Ina (she looks like Debby Ryan.) Ina chuckles softly at her attempt to be seductive before helping Bea to stand upright
âCome on Bea, Iâm taking you to my placeâ
Ina departs from Bea briefly to open the passenger door and when she turns back around she notices that Bea is once again on the floor
âThe floor is wobblyâ Bea looks dazed as she stares at the ground and Ina returns to her side to pull her back up; itâs then that Ina notices the grazes on Beaâs knees
âGoodness Bea, look at your knees!â
Bea slowly looks down to her knees and when she notices the grazes her eyes widen
âOh my god, theyâre so ugly nowâ she attempts to push Ina away âI need to get in the ambulance with Zoey and the sick dudeâ The dots connect in Inaâs head as she realises the ambulance was called for someone else at the club; Zoey mustâve been kind enough to go with the clubgoer to the hospital
âDonât look at me!â Ina grabs Bea by the arm and begins to guide her to the car
âYou look fine Bea. Come on, weâre going to my apartment nowâ
âoooooh, are we gonna have sexy times when we get back?â Ina feels her cheeks redden at her drunken suggestion
âNo Bea, youâre drunkâ Bea pouts dramatically and tries to run a hand along Inaâs face; instead she rubs her hand along Inaâs forehead and over her eye
âBut youâre so beautifulâ Ina shakes off Beaâs hand and continues to lead her to the car
Once Bea is safely in the passenger seat, Ina gets into the driverâs side
âPut your seatbelt onâ Bea spends a few seconds trying to locate the seatbelt as she feels along the ceiling of the car
âIna, thereâs no seatbeltâ she grabs onto the car handle and pats it
âIâll hold on tightâ Ina sighs in exasperation before leaning over Bea to reach the seatbelt. As she grabs onto the seatbelt, she feels Bea press her lips against her forehead in a gentle kiss
âWhat was that for?â Ina fastens Beaâs seatbelt as she says this, clicking it into place
âcuz youâre protecting me, like.. like a guardian angel!â Beaâs eyes light up at the thought that Ina could be her guardian angel and she turns to her in wonder
âI think youâre my saviourâ Ina grins and shakes her head
âCome on, lets get you homeâ
Midway through the quiet drive to Inaâs apartment, Ina feels a hand beginning to snake itâs way up her thigh. Her brow furrows
âBea, what are you doing?â Bea squeezes Inaâs thigh and tries to drop her voice into a sultry whisper
âYou look so sexy right nowâ Ina laughs loudly
âI woke up less than an hour ago and Iâm in my pyjamasâ
Bea teases the fabric of Inaâs pyjama top, her fingertips grazing the soft skin underneath. This makes Ina squirm slightly, and it takes all of her willpower to focus on driving
âStop that, Iâm trying to driveâ Bea pouts and rests her head on Inaâs shoulder, she grabs onto Inaâs arm which makes the car swerve slightly
âBea!â Ina shakes her off âPlease keep your hands to yourselfâ
Bea lets out a loud sigh before resting her head on the car door. She crosses her arms over her chestÂ
âDo you not like me anymore?â Ina chuckles incredulously and pats Beaâs leg
âI like you a lot Bea, a lot more than I shouldâ Bea turns her gaze onto Ina, studying her face as she continues âbut youâre drunk and Iâm trying to driveâ
âFineeeeeeâ Bea quietens down again, and the rest of the journey is driven in comfortable silence
Once Bea is safely seated on the kitchen counter inside Inaâs apartment, Ina gets to work on treating Beaâs scraped up knees. She puts her glasses on before wiping the grazes with an antiseptic wipe which makes Bea hiss in discomfort
âIt feels like fire on my kneesâ Ina continues to wipe away the grit and dirt from the wounds, using one hand to hold Beaâs leg still
âI know, but Iâm almost doneâ After a few seconds of gentle cleansing, Ina applies a band-aid to each knee and places a gentle kiss on one of Beaâs knees. This makes Bea smile and she pats Inaâs head
âSee? Youâre my protectorâ Ina chuckles before helping Bea down from the kitchen counter
âCome on, lets get you to bedâ She leads Bea by the hand to her bedroom before handing her a pair of her pyjamas
âYou can borrow these to sleep inâ Bea runs her hand over the fabric with wide eyes
âTheyâre so soft, like youâ Ina shakes her head whilst she smiles
âWhatâs that supposed to mean?â Bea kisses her cheek before resting her forehead against Inaâs
âIt means youâre cuteâ Ina chuckles at how little sense Bea is making as she pulls away
âAll right thenâ Ina grabs a spare blanket and pillow from the cupboard in the corner of her room before making her way to the door. She turns around before leaving
âGoodnight Beaâ Bea blows her an overexaggerated kissÂ
âGânight beautifulâ Ina closes the door to her room before making her way over to the sofa in the main room. She cannot help the smile that breaks across her face due to Beaâs insane level of cuteness, and that warm feeling stays with her even as she drifts off to sleep on the sofa
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if you're taking requests for thiam...9 or 20 from '50 wordless ways to say I love you'? :)
I couldn't decided which one I wanted to do more so I'm gonna do both separately!
(mid-writing note: this is more angsty and ficcy rather than drabbly which was originally not my intention whoops)
#20 'washing their back/hair'
Iâm good right hereÂ
on ao3
Liam was, for lack of better word, footloose on even his best days. Always seeming to be on the move and ready at any moments notice to jump into the middle of the action left him fidgety and unsettled in a way that made him seem careless, almost free if youâre looking at it from a certain standpoint, one where heâs successfully juggling classes, work, lacrosse and the prevention of another supernatural war.
The whole pack plus allies had been crowded into the McCall dining room for an extensive roast dinner to celebrate the beginning of winter break and the final take down of Monroe weeks prior when Argent excused himself from the table to take a phone call. The look on his face when he returned had Parrish and Noah already out of their seats, Melissa and Jenna reaching for plates of food to foil up and the rest of the pack gathering up phones, keys and helmets to get going.
Liam stayed seated, the anxiety burrowing itself further into his core, barbed edges scraping at his insides until all he could taste was the bile at the back of his throat and the guilt of wanting to stay at the McCall dining room table basking in the familiar sent of pack and safety. He loathed this. Absolutely despised it. The way everyone in the room fell silent when Argent had taken the call; The way he saw the worried look on his motherâs face when she looked at him and then Theo who was sitting to his right; The way everyone knew who was carpooling with who and who would be on standby at the house because after Monroe they learnt that while thereâs strength in numbers, it could all be a ploy to lure the whole pack into one place to pick them off one by one.Â
yeah, he hated it.Â
But he scrapes his chair across the floor, pockets his phone, kisses his mum on the cheek and follows Theo out the door.
The ride from Scottâs to the preserve is short. Or rather, he thinks it is. The radio provides an almost mute background noise to Liam distracting himself by watching his breath fog up the window where his head is leaning and disappear almost immediately. He tries to imagine doing that with the ever-growing pit in his stomach but he knows that much like the simmering rage that had carved out a home in his bones, he isn't going to get rid of it that easy.
From the driverâs seat, Theo wordlessly takes in every aspect of Liam in all his long-haired-over-energised-werewolf-boy glory, sees the things that others might not at first glance. The bitterness of the anxiety that overtakes the cab of the truck, the way Liamâs mouth curves into a frown, the rigid line of his shoulders and the way it curves up his neck, the fidgeting hands situated in his lap that serve as a way to put all the unused, unnerved energy somewhere, anywhere else. Because when you really look at Liam you see that all these things were here before Monroe and Brett and Lori and Nolan and Gabe. The bite might have saved Liamâs life but it couldnât save his innocence; couldnât prevent a fifteen year old boy from being thrown to the wolves and making a home in the den. Liam had said from the beginning that Scott had always given Liam the choice, always will give Liam the choice, to walk away.Â
But Theo knows that if Liam is anything, heâs loyal down to the bone. Knows about pack bonds and what that means, knows that one like Scott and Liamsâ doesnât come around very often. Theo knows that when given the chance to walk away he didnât, knows that when given the chance now Liam still wouldn't.
Theo also knows that when Liam gets like this, any word from his mouth will go in one ear and out the other, knows that Liam appreciates his actions far more than his words.
Theo just knows.
The red stoplight filters though the windshield and highlights the highpoints of Liamâs soft features, basking him in a red glow that reflects off the cold fog on the window. Theo doesnât need to think about it when he carefully reaches over the centre consul and winds his hand in between Liamâs own to bring their joined hands to his lips, pressing feather-light kisses to each of his knuckles while blue eyes still gaze out the window at the houses in an anxious haze. The owner of said blue eyes brings Theoâs hand down into his lap and sandwiches it between his own, keeping it there. Keeping Theo exactly where he needs him.
The fight with a few of Monroeâs straggling followers is short lived at best, but isnât over before they get a bit trigger happy and land a few shots. Sheriff and Parrish arrive before any real damage is done and are able to unarm them via hellhound heatwave, letting the last few of the strong strain wolfsbane bullets melt into the chamber of the illegally purchased military grade guns.Â
Theo, Argent and Lydia burn it out of Liam, Scott and Malia whilst Stiles assists with the arrests and calls one of his contacts at the FBI to check their files they have on the last of Monroeâs army before everyone is piling back into cars and onto motorcycles to head home, roast dinner forgotten for the night.Â
The drive back to the Dunbar-Geyer home is silent once again save for the quiet  hum of a cd Liam had left in Theoâs radio one afternoon when they were driving back home from Beacon Hills; Liam claiming it was âdetrimental to his early teenage years and one of the reasons heâs the person he is todayâ.
(thinking about it like that makes Theo uneasy after he just had to burn poison out of three bullet wounds that were in his boyfriendâs stomach not even fifteen minutes ago.
He doesnât turn it off)
They stumble out of Theoâs truck and up the porch stairs, narrowly missing one of Jennaâs pot plants on the way up, before they get to the front door and Theo has to use one hand to search for the house key on Liamâs ridiculously cluttered key ring whilst also keeping a tight hold on the betaâs right hip to prevent him from losing his balance again. Liamâs hand tightens around the back of Theoâs nape where heâs got his hand draped before his head lolls onto Theoâs shoulder.
One look at him and Theo knows they arenât getting through the front door, past the two creaking floorboards in the kitchen (that Liam makes a point to stand on just to rile both Theo and Jenna up), up the stairs and into Liamâs ensuite without making noise that will no doubt wake David up from his much needed sleep.Â
Once Theo manages to find the key and then get it in the door, he unhooks Liamâs hand from his neck and moves slightly in front of him to hook his own hands under Liamâs thighs to hoist him onto his back.Â
Liam puffs a breath out and onto the back of Theoâs collar and immediately wraps his arms around his neck. âI can manage to walk through the house, you knowâÂ
âYeah, thatâs why you put up such a fightâ the amusement bleeds through Theoâs voice as he tightens his grip on Liam and trots through the house.
Once in Liamâs ensuite, Theo gently leans back to put his boyfriend on the closed lid of the toilet before going back to his room to rummage through the locker-style wardrobe Liam insists on keeping even though it is currently bursting at the seams with both his and Theoâs clothes from the past three years theyâve been together.Â
The bathroom is full of steam from the hot water when Theo steps through the ensuite door and quietly clicks it shut, in front of him is Liam pulling down his soiled jeans and boxers while holding onto the tiled wall to his right. Theo does a final once over to make sure the healing wounds are actually healing before taking his own clothes off and guiding Liam into the steaming shower.
Liam practically melts when the welcomed heat hits his back and he slumps forward so that his head is situated on Theoâs right collarbone while simultaneously loosely wrapping his arms around his boyfriendâs middle and sighing with content.
âyou know, we should just move back home; the water pressure here is so much better than it is at our place, we never have showers this goodâÂ
âwe have showers better than this and you know itâ Theo teasingly retorts as he reaches for the shampoo in the shower caddy
Liam props his chin up at the base of Theoâs neck and kisses at the stubble on his chin while Theo leans him back under the spray of the water
âyeah but that's only when we actually have the time to shower together. Between work, classes, lacrosse and then coming back here all the time I feel like we never actually get to do thisâÂ
Theo hums in agreement while lathering the shampoo through Liamâs hair, massaging his scalp with blunt fingernails as Liam subconsciously leans back into the touch, continuing to talk.
âI just- I donât know, maybe it wouldnât be so bad coming back here after we finish school. We could move into Derekâs building or just find another place and mum knows the guy that owns the auto repair shop near town so she could probably get you a job; I know coach needs an assistant coach to help with the  lacrosse team and I wouldnât mind doing that in my spare time or- Theo are you even listening to me right now?
A small, fond smile graces Theoâs face as he once again leans the beta back to rise out the suds of shampoo âyeah, Li I'm listening. I think itâs a good idea but it doesnât really matter because if you wanna move back here when you finishes college then we will.âÂ
Liamâs scent florals and the sweetness of it curls its way up Theoâs nose while Liam stares at him wide-eyed and open, Theo not paying any mind to the expression as he reaches for the conditioner.
âyou mean that? Like, actually?â
Theo takes a moment to consider Liamâs response, keeping his gaze on the conditioner heâs lathering between his hands.
âLiam I donât know why that's such a surprise. If thatâs what you want then weâll find a way to do thatâ
âbut what about what you want?â
The simplicity of the question throws Theo off a bit, he hadnât really thought about what he wanted now that he was genuinely thinking about it. There wasnât anything in particular that he craved anymore; heâs got his freedom, a pack, a roof over his head and Liam. Theo has got everything he wants.
He once again takes a really good look at Liam. Big blue eyes, too-long hair that is in desperate need of a cut, the freckle near his mouth, the line between his brows that he gets whenever heâs getting impatient. Yeah, Theo already has all he wants.
Breaking the silence, Theo just shrugs and lathers the conditioner into the ends of Liamâs hair some more âIâve already got what I wantâ
(youâre what I want is what Liam hears)
The beta stares in awe at his boyfriend, the anxiety of tonight forgotten, and cups Theoâs jaw with both hands to bring their faces mere inches apart
Liamâs breath ghosts over Theoâs lips âyouâre what I want tooâ
Just as Liam goes to move to close the gap between them, Theo smirks and leans back ever-so-slightly âThatâs great, babe but I have to finish rinsing out all the conditioner or your hair is gonna be yucky in the morningâ
Liam huffs out a scoff an drops his hands from Theoâs face to loosely cross them over his chest
âwe were having a moment, Theo! oh my god I canât believe you.â
Liam throws his hands up in the air to emphasise his point before Theo catches his wrists and brings his hands back to his jaw, holding them in place with his own as he leans forwards to press his lips firmly to Liamâs in a closed-mouth kiss.
He once again pulls back from Liamâs face just enough that he can look him dead in the eye
âLiam, seriously, if thatâs what you want then weâll do it. Iâm good wherever I am as long as I'm with you.â the words come out soft but firm and he gives Liamâs hands a gentle squeeze and then slides his own hands down to Liamâs wrists and lightly holds them so that his fingers curl around and over Liamâs pulse point.
The betaâs face splits into a wide grin and he pulls Theoâs face forward to somehow press an even firmer kiss to Theoâs lips: a thank you and a promise.
Yeah, Theoâs good right here.
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