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hitlikehammers · 3 days ago

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oh golden boy (don't act like you were kind)

part i : you were mine but—

for @kultiras at the ❄️ Winter @steddieexchange 🖤🩵

Arguably the sharpest knife in his chest about this whole fucking shitshow?

Eddie thought they were doing good.

Like: so fucking good.

Eddie thought they were on the cusp of…that they were building something.

He’s such an idiot. Such a…

A heartsick fucking idiot.

But if he’s gracious—which he’s not, least of all to himself—when he puts all the pieces together, lines the evidence up and analyzes it, thinks of it in terms of a narrative that he can understand and recognize the flaws in, where he’d rewrite the ending or tweak the rising action so everything slides into place realistically, cause and effect in balance just right: Eddie can see that the way this has all shaken out is fucked up. So, so fucked up.

Because there honestly hadn’t been any signs that they weren’t laying the foundations of something long-term, something lasting; that they weren’t in this deep and rooted, strong and committed and serious in a real, tangible way, and, just…

Forever. Eddie was…he was playing for keeps, here. He thought, he just, he thought—

Fuck.

He just…really believed he wasn’t alone in it all.

Again: idiot.

It’d started so fucking predictably, really, because if there’s one thing that Eddie clocked about Steve Harrington from the get-go of actually getting to know him versus operating on the popular-gorgeous-jock framework he’d distilled the guy down to in his head before 1986: the one consistent thing he’d figured from what he’d heard and what he’d seen put together was that: Steve Harrington?

Bastard’s protective to a fucking fault.

So when he blinked back to the land of the living with Steve goddamn Harrington at his bedside? Standing guard, looking a little haggard—like he cared, at least enough to worry—but still fucking devastatingly pretty, good god-

When he woke up to that, Eddie was surprised and also: not at all surprised.

The way he lit up when he saw Eddie was conscious, like world was less before that moment and something right slid back into place? Eddie…Eddie felt like his body was pretty wholly broken but that fucking cracked something down his middle, decimated parts of him in new ways that hadn’t been already devastated on another plane, were sitting ripe for wholesale ruin.

He’d let Steve blame the breathiness that’d overcome him on coming back from the brink of death, because Steve didn’t need to know the sensations, the emotions, that were running riot through Eddie’s veins.

But then it hadn’t stopped.

Steve standing guard at his side became a constant, like Eddie couldn’t quite comprehend save that it felt like his body was knitting itself around the fact of this more-than-good dude and Eddie wasn’t entirely sure what to do with that, save kind of just…poke curiously at the new shape of everything he was for it, and once he worked through the fear of the unfamiliar in it?

To kinda…savor it. Roll around in it and relish.

Probably it was gonna be short lived anyway. Probably it was gonna go away when Eddie finally got out of here. Only made sense to soak it up while it lasted.

And it was one of those early days, where Eddie was soaking it up and before anything possible beyond the bubble of middle-space they were existing in inside Eddie’s hospital room was even hinted at. Steve had gone to check on Max while Eddie grappled a bit to look down at himself a little better under the handkerchief that the hospital deemed sufficient as clothing, and he braced for the worst because it felt like the worst and what he did remember at all from the scene of the inter-dimensional mauling definitely aligned with being ‘the worst’: but it was honestly mostly bandages and pain.

Eddie didn’t…on second thought he didn’t know if he was ready to see what was underneath just yet, so he was actually kinda grateful that his hubris about it all didn’t immediately have a chance to floor him, especially when he was alone because he’d thought it’d be easier to stomach if it was just him—but the prospect, the bullet dodged, lodged in his throat and proved him kinda instantly wrong for the sharp cut of bile rising in him, and the violent jump of his pulse right behind it.

His hand had gravitated to his chest, though, like he could keep his heart from cracking his ribs that way, and he noticed that…even the light pressure ached, so he looked down a little more carefully, didn’t think the little fuckers had concentrated their attacks on the center of his chest so he tucked his chin and tried to see what was causing the sting—maybe just like, general area tenderness after playing buffet table to fucking…flying hellspace rodents but—

No. No: even from this weird-ass uncomfortable angle, Eddie could see the outline, coukd make out the dark stain of a bruise.

In the shape of a hand.

And listen, Eddie wasn’t foolish. He knew that everyone busted ass to get him topside and to a hospital. And that probably involved…stuff he didn’t want to really dwell on too long in terms of the nitty-gritty of his own mortality. He was also very much aware that Steve had played a crucial role, even if the man himself didn’t stand up and declare it. The kids didn’t have any sense of a fucking filter, so.

Eddie knew.

But Eddie then started tracing the splay of fingers on his sternum, his heartbeat so fucking heavy under even just the brush of his nails as he followed the outline of the purpling over, and over, and over, imagined what it would take to make that kind of an impression on his skin because Eddie was fucking pale, yeah, he marked quick—but not that dark.

Not that deep.

“Shit.”

Eddie’d startled, snapped his attention to the doorway where Steve had reappeared, looking a little breathless as he took Eddie in, came quick to his side and leaned to look closer at the monitor next to him and oh: Eddie hadn’t realized that the beeping was so loud, so fast. Hadn’t realized his heartbeat had ratcheted up quite so high.

Not that he was surprised.

“Shit, are you okay,” Steve barely breathed, eyes so goddamn big about it as his hands had kinda hovered, as he’d tried to figure out what to do, how to help, because that was what he was always doing; that’s who he was to his core, and Eddie…

“Oh god, let me call the nu—”

“Don’t.”

Eddie’d half-moaned it, god: scratchy but desperate as he reached for Steve’s hand and he…

He suspected he knew exactly how big that hand was; what shape it’d make to a fucking T. But he needed to see

For sure.

“What are you,” Steve’s brow had furrowed in that way Eddie was becoming increasingly aware he wanted to kiss smooth, and he started to ask it as Eddie grabbed to uncurl his grip from the bar at the side of the bed but Steve gave up fighting quick, focused on stopping Eddie from moving at all instead, from stretching the way he was against the precarious threads holding him together as he reached for the neck of his gown again, still loose enough from where he’d pulled the back up, left his ass out against the sheets to bare his breastbone, the mess of the tattoos on his chest more grisly after everything than any horrors he’d gotten inked before but—

This was a different kind of horrifying thing. Not least—maybe most—because it was entirely possible that it was also the most beautiful, sacred thing to ever touch Eddie’s skin. To ever beat through Eddie’s fucking veins.

“You,” Eddie let go of the last breath he could wrestle out before his lungs seized up too tight, because then he was watching it happen, watching Steve’s broad palm as it hovered over the imprint, shivering when Steve’s warmth made contact: eclipsing the bruise near-perfect, just like Eddie knew deep down it fucking would.

His heart took the hint and started shivering under Steve’s hand immediately, like it had something to prove.

“Ed,” Steve’s voice was wispy, choked a little; eyes too bright and Eddie feels like there must be so many kinds of dying, because he’d felt one keenly under that angry red lightning; this was a wholly other thing.

But felt just as keenly life-or-death.

“You,” Eddie whispered, the words, the truth, the feeling of it all too fragile, too precious to disturb, and he wondered if his heart knew Steve had pushed the bruises down around it to save it, if that’s why it was so unbridled and unabashed in hammering against that touch, that touch—

“I think I heard you.”

And Steve? Big eyes framed with those feather lashes, stretched wide and all made of shine and earnest fucking feeling?

“You didn’t…want to lose me?” Eddie’s voice had been so small, so so small because he did think he’d heard that, and the wisps of recollection, of a frantic but resolute voice demanding of him: what he was able to collect and try to tie into a whole matched up when he paired it all with Steve in his head, but what if he was wrong?

What if it was all just fever dreams and wishful thinking on his deathbed, what if Steve had no investment in him beyond keeping the Party safe in its entirety, no exceptions; what if Eddie was fucking wrong and showed too much of his hand with this, with Steve’s palm pressed to his thrashing heart and—

Then Steve was brining his free hand to Eddie’s cheek, fucking…cradling it like it fucking meant something, like he could matter and—

“I couldn’t lose you.”

Oh.

“You,” and so many possible ways to end that thought had swam through Eddie’s head—you barely know me, you can’t possibly care if I live or die, I cannot matter one fucking bit in your universe, so why would it matter but Steve’s hand was warm under his, and Steve didn’t pull away, only leaned in, only stayed close enough that Eddie could feel his breath on his skin and Steve could chart the way Eddie’s heart took to pummelling his already-taxed ribs but it didn’t matter, it couldn’t matter because Steve held there, so careful of the pain but nothing short of steady, devoted, a soul-sworn guard of that heart under his hand like it did matter, like Eddie did…

Like Steve ever could—

“Stevie,” Eddie would probably have flushed if the situation had been anything but what it was. If his heart wasn’t racing into Steve’s touch at the chest and just under the jaw where Steve’s thumb pressed almost proprietary, almost like a shield but also like a welcome, like the idea of Eddie’s heart beating into him wasn’t a dealbreaker, and fuck, fuck—

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Steve breathed out against him, prickling dangerous across his skin and Eddie’s heart leapt a little, fuck; more than a little and Steve felt it, front-row-center, couldn’t not feel it but he just leaned closer still, and Eddie was front-row himself to the catch in Steve’s inhale, undeniable and unapologetic as he murmured low, turning into Eddie’s cheek a little and Eddie maybe resented how it forced him to pull away,until his lips brushed the tip of Eddie’s jawbone and drew a whole ass shudder down his goddamn spine.

“Just know,” Steve gasped there, fucking…panted and hell if it didn’t catch in Eddie’s blood like pure bliss; ��just know why.”

And fuck, but Eddie could only press in to the warmth of Steve’s lips where they moved for the words alone, let alone what words; what Eddie thought maybe they meant—

“Me too,” Eddie rasped a little, because fuck him, man; this was something…something else, swelling up in his chest so strong and Steve had to be able to feel it where he still held against him, palm to his galloping pulse at the source, feeling the life he coaxed back into the world.

“Does it have to make sense just yet?” Eddie asked, knew he sounded too hopeful, too desperate, more than he’d earned, than was safe but his heart kept knocking against that hand, so fucking insistent and who was he to deny it, to try and wrestle in into being less when he couldn’t even hide it, when it was evident to the man it was leaping at; for.

“I don’t think so,” Steve mouthed more than spoke where his lips dragged wet across the stubble on Eddie’s cheek.

“Then,” Eddie tipped his head, tried to catch Steve’s eyes, aimed to reason, to convince but the moment he moved, Steve dipped his chin just so to take Eddie’s lips, to kiss so hard, so complete with what felt like it couldn’t even be reasoned as less than all of him, because how could less than all feel like this—

Fucking impossible.

And Eddie couldn’t shy away—as Steve kissed him breathless, left him gasping; Eddie couldn’t shy away from the sense that he was being killed and revived all over again, endless and unbreaking, and it was perfection.

Jesus fuck.

And the kicker was that…weeks passed. A whole month, close to another. And if anything changed it was all for the better, for the more and Eddie wasn’t entirely sure what to do with it, if he was entirely honest. He…the bruise healed, y’know? That brand above his heart but—

He didn’t need it anymore. That was the thing. He didn’t need to see.

He was very fucking aware. Every minute of every day. He was…so aware. It could kill him better than those bats, it was so big and so much, and so quick, but with all that, probably because of all that: Eddie’d never felt anything even remotely like what it meant to shake off sleep and have Steve Harrington kiss you to wakefulness, to hold you for the nightmares as much as the news of small victories on the road to recovery: never wavering.

Never leaving.

When Eddie got the go-ahead to continue his rehab outpatient-style, his original conviction that all of this ended at the latest upon discharge was immediately challenged, because Steve had become so much more than he’d started as, but Eddie still worried. Made himself sick over it.

Felt like an indefensible monster as Steve rubbed his back, brought him soup, tended him like Eddie didn’t cause his own suffering, and all for the terror of losing the very man who was there, without question.

Then he signed himself out, and Steve drove him home.

Save that Eddie recognized where they were headed and…he only knew one person in Loch Nora.

“Your uncle’s still in the motel by the plant,” Steve had explained what Eddie already knew but hadn’t put together when Eddie raised an eyebrow in askance, wholly unsure how to process any of this, any of this; unsure how to hope in the face of what he was seeing, held against what he was wishing.

“Government’s being fucking assholes about setting you up with someplace appropriate,” and something in Steve’s tone had made plain that he was not just very clear on what constituted ‘appropriate’, he was probably actively involved somehow in holding the people in question rightly accountable for appropriate, and nothing less.

And Eddie…he did say he didn’t need a mark you could see on his heart, didn’t he.

“You need the room while you get better,” Steve murmured as he killed the engine, and lifted Eddie’s hand to his lips, pressed his mouth on the knuckles, nuzzling a little, eyes closed and Eddie…Eddie didn’t know what to do.

The only saving grace was that he didn’t have a monitor to rat his ass out when his heart started trying to escape orbit—fuck just his ribs, how pedestrian—this time.

They sat in a living room that looked like it was once absolutely pristine and still was, mostly, but up close Eddie could see little snags on the sofa, could feel the texture of the fabric different under his fingers for scrubbing out a stain. He suspected four infamously unmannered teenagers were the culprits. The remaining stiffness of the cushions was good for the way his body was still working through being gnawed apart, but he was gone far enough to kind of immediately hope he’d see how they wore with love and use and maybe something more once they got there, once Eddie’s body cooperated again, because he…Steve brought him home.

And maybe they didn’t have to stop when Eddie left the hospital. Maybe he didn’t have to lose.

He’d only made it shortly past the best fucking grilled cheese he’d maybe ever tasted, and he didn’t think it was only because it was his first meal without an aftertaste of sterile in too fucking long—but he only lasted a little more than an hour before Steve’d helped him to a guest room on the first floor that’d obviously been reworked for him, from the way he could reach the bed from just inside the door, to the fucking posters that he knew for a fact Steve wouldn’t have had on hand, and Eddie’d giggled a little wetly at the Ozzy one, because he figured the man steadying him at his side would never be anything but intertwined with the Prince of Darkness in his mind, now—but Steve, who’d more than proven he was so far beyond any kind of king, won hands down. By a landslide.

And who could have seen that coming?

“Careful,” Steve chided him gently as he guided Eddie slowly down to the mattress and made to tuck him in, and the word was so warm, so warm but Eddie had to…

He had to reach. Again. He needed Steve, he…needed.

The handprint on top of his heart didn’t need to be a thing he could see, but he needed Steve to…know some level of what he was feeling, of how much was inside him already, and growing, the momentum building and he didn’t want to feed it, didn’t want to let it run if he wasn’t going to have someone to catch it, to run with him but he also didn’t think there was any chance to stop it, now, he didn’t think he could trim it back or tame it from consuming him and he wasn’t sure he’d even want to if he actually had the power because it was the best feeling he’d ever known, even if it was terrifying, even if it could hurt him more than anything he’d ever known and—

“I don’t want to be alone,” was what spilled from his lips with Steve’s hand above his heartbeat as it pumped so goddamn hard it couldn’t be denied, it couldn’t be misconstrued, and he didn’t want to sleep alone, didn’t want to lose what he’d rebuilt himself around all these weeks, he—

“Good,” and Steve leaned down, cradled Eddie’s face and tipped him up to kiss him full, hard, one hand still on his chest because that was the mark, the promise, the fight for all that this was and all it could be like a fucking vow and Eddie melted for it on sight, on contact.

“Because I’m not leaving,” and Steve brushed the tip of his nose back and forth against Eddie’s, his smile like honey in his tone as he pecked Eddie on the lips one more time before stretching his hand to follow him across the bed, to crawl to the other side and slide in next to Eddie, to carefully arrange him against Steve’s body, to wrap around him with so much care, to touch nothing too tender and everything safe to hold as Steve tucked his face against Eddie’s neck and kissed behind his ear as he breathed:

“Never gonna leave you all alone again.”

And Eddie believed him.

Eddie believed him.

And when, weeks later when Eddie was hurting less and moving more, perched in the corner of the couch that was starting to give a little under persistent weight, starting to feel like it was meant to be used and lend comfort; as Eddie was poking at campaign notes for the gremlins, pen caught between his teeth, he only paused when he felt the gravity of a familiar gaze settle on him—not immediately, because he liked just existing in it, feeling its heft, but after enough moments to satisfy him he looked up, met those eyes and felt them in his goddamn soul as he asked:

“What?”

And Steve had just kept on staring, the bare hint of a quirk at the corners of his lips spreading to the full sunrise of his smile.

“You fit, here,” and he’d said it so simply, so…much like a truth, a fact of the universe—Eddie Munson fits, belongs in this place, this space, this home, this life—and then the smile dimmed ever so slightly, cloud cover across the shine as Steve shifted a little, crossed his arms loose but still as a barrier over his chest: “if you want to, I mean—”

And Eddie sat up straighter, and he reached both his hands out to Steve because:

“I want to,” it was all he wanted, really; it wasso far beyond his wildest dreams but it was real, Eddie could see and touch it, taste it, feel it through his blood when it pumped, tracking through his whole body, filling up his heart overfull and magnificent and he as just…

“Sweetheart,” he took Steve’s hands and tugged him down to sit next to Eddie, settled him so close; “I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want that.”

He leaned back, wholly prone and never once letting go of Steve’s hands, never once doing anything but keeping them laced together and anchored, locked tight and Steve matched him, followed him as Eddie drew him to his healed-enough chest to settle right at the center, to hear Eddie’s heartbeat for the declaration it was, it already was in its entirety:

“You fit here.”

And he did. They both did. Their worlds had shifted, grew around the shapes they made together and after not-long-at-all, they fit so fucking well that it was bespoke to their cells, they’d never fit anyone else. It was quick and it was heady and it was fucking right.

For months

And then it all went to shit.

Because Steve decided what should have been expected, honestly—that Eddie wasn’t worth the hassle, that he wasn’t right for Steve, that Steve’s staggeringly-expansive capacity for love was wasted to hell on this low-life dipshit who couldn’t even graduate on his third try at high school, who maybe didn’t have a murder charge anymore in the legal system but would never wash it clean from the court of public opinion, who was…trouble. Always trouble.

Not fucking worth it.

It’s just…Eddie never thought Steve would stop wanting him. He maybe went in reticent at first, but Steve had loved so hard out the gate that as soon as he knew he was allowed, and welcome? Eddie didn’t hesitate to meet that love beat for beat.

He just never imagined his love would ever be unwelcome; that that's how his heart would break.

What breaks in the moment, though—the heartbreak is constant, and unfortunately proving to be kinda fucking unending, really—but what breaks now is…possibly the handle on the front door for the way someone’s banging and jiggling it back and forth like the first time it didn’t give against the lock was just a fluke.

He frowns, considers waiting out whoever’s enough of a dick to knock like that but apparently not so witch-hunty to throw a brick through the window—which: Eddie will take progress, he guesses—but when a concerning creak sounds from near the hinges, Eddie thinks of Wayne, and how his uncle doesn’t deserve a broken front door, so.

Heartbroken or not, Eddie has to drag himself to deal with…this.

Then he’s throwing the door open and…this is—

“We need to talk.”

This should have been expected. There’s really only one little asshole who’d assault his door with that much…determination.

“Henderson—” Eddie huffs, because he knows he needs to set a date for them all to get together, he left the campaign they were in kinda dangling on a thread when he didn’t hold the gatherings at St—

Well, when their regularly scheduled venue became too much for Eddie’s heart to handle.

Which: okay, fine, he gets it but like, he can’t care as much as he maybe should when he feels like this, and the kids need to fucking take a chill pill and if they can’t understand, then at least they can just shut the fuck up for at a couple more weeks while Eddie licks his wounds and sees if they decide to finally scab over enough that he doesn’t keep with busting them back open every time he breathes—

“About Steve.”

Eddie’s heart shudders just to hear the name. He’s avoided hearing it for weeks, now; it hurts too much.

He hears it enough in his own head, in his dreams, in his nightmares when he see the worst, in the cadence of his fucking pulse because his heart doesn’t know how not to be Steve’s, kinda feels like it’s not interested in learning, will never be anything other than what it is now, forever, and—

“We need to talk about what you did to Steve.”

Wait.

Wait, what he did to—

What?

❄️

>>> part ii

for @kultiras🖤

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dorabellingham · 3 days ago

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Long distance

warning: none

characters: jude x reader

summary: when your long-distance relationship is going through a turbulent time, but you do everything to understand each other

request: yes!

may contain spelling and translation errors!

The months passed quickly, and despite the distance, you and Jude tried to stay connected. He was in Madrid, living the peak of his career, with intense training, games and constant travel, while you, in another country, focused on your college year. The distance was testing your limits, but so far, you seemed to be able to keep the flame alive. However, there were times, like this one, when you felt that something wasn't right.

It was a cold Thursday night, and you were at home, after another long week of studies and commitments. You looked at your phone, checking if you had any messages from Jude. You saw that he had sent you a good night message, as he always did when you weren't talking in person, but when you opened the screen, you saw that he was busy with something and couldn't answer at those times. It was something common, but that night, a feeling of emptiness hit you even harder. You tried to be understanding. You knew that Jude was at a decisive moment in his career and that football demanded a lot of his time. However, you couldn’t help but feel alone. The long-distance relationship was getting hard to sustain. You always tried your best to be patient, but you also had your own emotional needs, and as much as you loved your boyfriend, you couldn’t hide the fact that you were feeling neglected. That night, instead of just texting him that you were fine, you sat on your bed and decided to write something more sincere. You knew you had to be honest with him, no matter how hard it was.

"Jude, I know you’re super busy and I don’t want to be a burden, but… sometimes I feel like you’re so distant. Not physically, of course, but emotionally. I understand how much football takes out of you, but I also need you here, you know? And there are days when I really feel like I’m doing this all by myself. I don’t want to be demanding, but can you help me understand what’s going on? I just don’t want to feel invisible.”

You hesitated a little before hitting send, but you knew you had to say it. You didn’t want the frustration to build up to the point where it could harm their relationship. Instead, you preferred to get things sorted out while there was still time.

A few minutes later, your phone vibrated. It was a text from Jude.

“Sweetie, I’m sorry if I left you feeling this way. I really didn’t mean to. You know how grateful I am for everything you’ve done for us. I can’t deny that I’m completely focused on my work, but that will never be more important than you. I love you and I’m struggling to find balance. I want you to know that I need you here too, more than you know. Let’s talk about this when you can.”

You felt an immediate sense of relief. You knew he wasn’t trying to push you away, but the feeling of being neglected hurt you deeply. You took a deep breath and sent a reply.

“I love you, Jude. I know it’s hard for you too, and I don’t mean to be selfish. Just… please don’t make me feel like I’m an option when you already have so much going on. I just need to know that I’m still important to you, even with all this crazy schedule you have.”

Your phone vibrated again.

“You’ll always be my priority, Y/n. I’m just trying to organize myself so that we can be together as much as possible. I don’t want you to feel that way, no way. Let’s figure it out. Give me some time and we’ll plan something together, something just for us, so you can see how important you are to me. I promise I’ll try to make this easier for you. I’m not going to give up on us.”

You smiled, feeling a soft relief this time. You knew that, despite the distance and the challenges, the love between you were still strong. You were still learning to deal with the situation, and that was something natural, something that many long-distance relationships face.

A few hours later, you finally received a call from Jude. The sound of his voice calmed you down immediately, and you closed your eyes as you listened to him speak, knowing that, despite the pressure and the distance, you still belonged together.

—Babe, I just wanted to hear from you. I was thinking about how we can improve this. Maybe I should call you more often, or even text you more when I know you need me.

You interrupted him softly, with a light laugh.

—I’m not the type of person to complain, but sometimes I feel like I’m trying too hard to be strong on my own. And yes, a more frequent message would make me feel more present. I know you’re doing your best, Jude. It’s just that sometimes the best seems so far away, darling.

Jude sighed, as if he was relieved to finally hear your truth. He could feel the weight of your words, and it touched him deeply.

—I understand. And I’m going to do it. I’m going to be more present. Because you deserve it. You deserve to know that I’m completely yours, even if the distance tries to separate us. I’m going to make things work, because you’re the most important thing in my life.

You smiled at his words. The feeling of warmth was almost instantaneous. You had had a difficult conversation, but a necessary conversation, and that was the most important thing. You didn’t want to be neglected, but you didn’t want to be selfish either. You just wanted to be with him, by his side, even if that meant you had to adjust a little.

—I love you, Jude. I’m here for you too, always. And I know that in the end, everything will work out. We’ll get through this together.

He was silent for a moment before answering.

—I love you more, babe. And I’m going to show you that I can be better for both of us.

That night, even though you were miles apart, you and Jude felt closer than ever. Your conversation was a reminder that despite the hardships of distance and Jude’s career, what really mattered was your commitment to each other. You weren’t giving up. You were simply learning to be better in your relationship, day by day.

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fanficdailyuser · 3 days ago

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Bangchan x pregnant reader

The evening was quiet, save for the soft hum of a playlist Bang Chan had put on—a mix of calming instrumentals meant to help Y/N relax. She sat on the couch, her feet propped up on a cushion, her hands resting gently on her round belly.

“How are you feeling, love?” Bang Chan asked as he walked into the room, holding a tall glass of water in one hand and a small bowl of sliced mangoes in the other. He’d learned quickly that mangoes were one of her favorite cravings these days.

She offered him a tired smile. “Better now that you’re here,” she said. “And is that… mango?” Her eyes lit up.

“Of course it is,” he said, setting the bowl down on the table in front of her. He leaned in to kiss her forehead, his lips lingering a moment longer than usual. “Anything for you.”

Y/N reached for a slice and sighed contentedly as she took a bite. “You’re spoiling me, you know.”

“You deserve it,” he replied, sitting down beside her. His hand found its way to her belly, his thumb rubbing gentle circles over the fabric of her dress. “You’re growing our baby. That’s… incredible.” His voice softened, filled with awe. “Sometimes I still can’t believe it.”

She laughed lightly. “Believe it. This little one kicks me all the time to remind me they’re here.”

As if on cue, her belly shifted slightly beneath his hand. Bang Chan’s eyes widened, and a grin spread across his face. “Wow. That’s amazing.” He looked up at her, his admiration unmistakable. “You’re amazing.”

Her cheeks flushed at his words, and she shook her head. “I feel like a whale most days.”

He frowned, gently cupping her face in his hand. “Don’t say that. You’re beautiful. You’re carrying our child, and that makes you even more beautiful to me. Honestly, I think I’ve fallen for you all over again.”

Her eyes welled with tears, hormones amplifying her emotions. “You’re too sweet,” she whispered.

“It’s the truth,” he insisted, pressing a kiss to her lips.

As the night wore on, Bang Chan made it his mission to pamper her even more. When she mentioned her feet were sore, he didn’t hesitate to kneel in front of her and gently lift one foot into his hands. “Just tell me if it hurts, okay?” he said as he began to massage her foot, his fingers expertly kneading away the tension.

Y/N sighed in relief, leaning back against the couch. “I think I’m going to keep you forever.”

“I’d hope so,” he teased, flashing her a cheeky smile. “Not planning on going anywhere.”

She watched him as he worked, her heart swelling with love. “Chan…” she began softly.

“Hmm?”

“You’re going to be the best dad. I just know it.”

He paused, looking up at her, his eyes glassy with emotion. “That means a lot coming from you,” he said. “But you’re the one who’s really incredible. You’re strong and patient and so full of love. Our baby’s lucky to have you as their mom.”

They stayed like that for a while, exchanging soft words and sweet smiles, the love between them palpable. Eventually, Y/N dozed off, her head resting on his shoulder. Bang Chan sat still, his arm wrapped protectively around her, his free hand resting on her belly.

In that quiet moment, he thought about the future—the late-night feedings, the baby’s first steps, the family they were building together. He couldn’t wait to share it all with her.

And as he watched her sleep, he couldn’t help but think how lucky he was to love and be loved by someone so incredible.

#stray kids fanfic #stray kids #stray kids bang chan #stray kids x reader #stray kids x y/n

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sonderblade · 2 days ago

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SONIC MOVIE 3 SPOILERS AHEAD!

SCROLL NOW YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!!

Okay so we all know that Shadows survives at the end but I was thinking about if they went down the path of Shadow feeling extremely guilty for almost destroying the world and doing the opposite of what Maria wanted but I also was thinking about Shadow having strong guilt towards SONIC considering he almost made Sonic lose someone so important to him and Sonic ends up talking it out with him and helps him despite everything.

So I’m thinking about this AU where Shadow gets ambushed by GUN agents and there we see that soldier lady (who was very efficient in messing up everybody’s plans😭😭go queen, I Stan her) and he’s in a terrorgation room with no cuffs, nothing, just her and him. She approaches him saying that he wouldn’t have come willingly because he most likely would’ve thought they were ambushing him anywYs blah blah blah- we get to the point where she guilt-trips him using Maria, him almost destroying millions of innocent lives, and then she brings up Sonic and how he put aside his hatred and helped him instead and how good of person Sonic is and that Shadow didn’t deserve someone like Sonic to be good to him- that he didn’t deserve a second chance. And she does this WELL. She doesn’t yell, she’s calm and she has such a sure face that it messes with Shadow despite him trying really hard to not take everything to heart and agreeing WITH it. She says that he could EARN that second chance if he starts helping GUN because “today’s GUN isn’t the same GUN as before”. And adds,

“if not for the world, then for her.”

And THAT gets him on board, although still reluctant.

Then we can time skip into shadow having a REALLY bad time where he’s constantly switching from mission to mission to fighting in an underground illegal fighting ring because he can’t stand being at GUN’s room for him and he needs to let out his emotions. He’s in between fighting as an agent and as a bloodied fighter(he lets himself get beat bc he thinks he deserves it) and he’s seeing hallucinations of Maria but also starts to see hallucinations of Sonic and he begins to consume his mind because why??? Why help him??? Why console him? Why choose to understand him? Why did he smile at him knowing all the things he’s done? Why laugh and talk with him like they’ve known each other forever?

And he CANNOT get Sonic out of his mind. He’ll be fighting bad guys on missions and Sonic’s smile flashes or he can hear him laugh. And shadow doesn’t know how to feel about it. He barely knows the guy!!! But it doesn’t click until he gets a talk from someone in the locker room for the fighting ring where she tells him, “when someone looks at you with care even though you’ve done nothing to deserve it… it’s hard not to think about warmth after years of freezing.”

And it clicks. Sonic’s the only other warmth he’s felt besides Maria. But Sonic’s different, he isn’t someone to be like family- like Maria, it’s something else entirely and he’s so confused at the feeling. But he thinks of him anyway. And he dreams of new times with him anyway. And he’ll never plan to visit him.

Until a new foe arrives which causes the Sonic team+ Amy (so excited to see her!!)+ Shadow & GUN. Sonic and Amy are getting along fine but Sonic is just. So. Glad that Shadow is in fact alive. He introduces her, they talk about what happened but Sonic is all like “it’s all in the past, who cares??!!!!!” “Sonic, he almost killed Tom and you tried to kill him” “it’s all in the past!!!!!”

And they get to develop their relationship and Sonic’s talking about how Shadow needs to go “popular place” and needs to do “trendy cool thing” because he’s “uncultured to a horrifying degree”. They get to have teamwork, argue with each other, reconcile, laugh, bond, and it’s NOTHING like these boys have felt before. It’s so easy to share with each other but also have some sort of friendly rivalry and continue to push themselves to impress one another. It’s sportsmanship , it’s friendship, it’s romantic(tho they won’t admit it), it’s a genuine connection.

And maybe. HEAR ME OUT PLEASE. MAYBE. they have a dance scene. THIS ISNT CRAZY. THEY SHOWED SHADOW DOESNT MIND DANCING AND SONIC FUCKING LOVES IT!!!! SO!!!!!

ITS A ROMANTIC LYRICS BUT REALLY GOOD MUSIC TYPE OF SONG (think of “Ma Meilluere Ennemie” from Arcane which is SO THEM btw) BUT ANYWAYS.

I just really hope we see Shadow and Sonic become friends that everyone knows as complicated but They still Care. For one another even if they don’t want to admit it.

#sonic the hedghog movie #sonic the hedgehog 3 #sonic the movie #sonic the movie 3 #sonic movie 3 spoilers #sonic the hedgehog movie 3 spoilers #sonic movie spoilers #sonadow #sonic x shadow #I had to get this out.#it’s been on my mind for a while #sonic movie au #sonic live action

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idkplzhalp · 2 days ago

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The Admin in TF2 comic 7 was so GLaDOS and Caroline coded. Her character has made me tear up multiple times, there's such complexity to her I'm so upset.

Anyways. I think it's Caro/GLaDOS coded because of keeping up this cold facade and then being the pettiest woman on the planet. GLaDOS' cut voice lines are so petty, I posted some earlier but like the way she tries to guilt Chell and makes stuff up... oh girl. Admin put up a big fake idea of what she was doing and then turns out she's trying to keep one single guy alive for an event she cannot even remember.

Pre-australium Helen was more Caroline in my mind, mainly in her appearance, but also the section about Zepheniah dying? The frame of Admins absolute apathy for life? She lost all her purpose now that he's dead and she feels like she didn't win.

^ Her appearance in these, like okay you look just like Caroline (similarish hair & nose shape).

^ The feelings that come from the panels of Admin are so strong, you can so easily read what state she's in. Caroline coded in my heart. The way the mansion is left uncared for while Admin sits depressed in bed was just. So emotional for me?

I don't think Caroline felt that way about Cave, the hatred Admin did for Zepheniah, as it was very implied they were besties at least for awhile. Though I feel she'd hold the grief that Admin did for Zepheniah in a different way. Admin is grieving because her purpose in life was lost, she has no one to focus revenge on anymore. Caroline lost her friend and was forced into a fate she didn't want, mistreated by employees, left angry and isolated forever. She lived to be the highest assistant of Aperture, working as one for 40 years prior. So in a sense, her purpose was lost as well. We don't hear anything from the Caroline CEO era so I'd like to think she took a step back as she awaited her fate. She probably was barely keeping things together from the stress (though not to undermine how good at her job she was, I just think she'd be depressed for at least some of her CEO time). That's more headcanon territory though, and I wish there was a way we could get more confirmation on how she acted then.

Both were fated to live basically forever and forgot the reasons why they feel the way they do.. GLaDOS didn't remember Caroline/her being a human while Admin forgot how her parents died/that Zepheniah likely killed them.

They are wasting their time forever. GLaDOS is testing and evolving science for NO ONE but herself. Forever. She's alone. Implied to feel lonely in the Lego Dimensions song + her VA thinks so too. Eventually she'd run out of materials and there's no people left to either help her or torture her. Admin admits herself that her plan was a waste of time and for a moment shes sad. Both characters are so focused on their goals, they were mistreated and became separated from humanity, there was no reason for either to be rational towards who they were hating. Such a big effort for something miniscule in the end!

While Admin initially didn't want to live, she got stuck in a cycle of trying to spite this guy forever and it was for nothing, she ruined people's lives in the process (Mainly Pauling, ohhh she was so betrayed, someone SAVE HER).

And both are voiced by Ellen McLain, nicest woman on the planet. Wow.

Really gives same character different universe, doesn't it.

#Do yall like my character analysis posts? I love writing and will definitely do more if these do well!#This post is really messy but I can expand on my thoughts differently later #Admin tf2 #Tf2 #Portal #Portal 2 #Ellen mclain #Tf2 comic 7 #Tf2 comic 7 spoilers #Valve games #Tf2 comics #Aperture Science #Caroline portal 2 #Portal Caroline #Helen tf2 #Elizabeth tf2 #Glados #tf2 administrator

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helen-lucilfer · 2 days ago

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ranking the phantom troupe based on how good of parents they would be

1. chrollo. the way that this isn’t even because i have favoritism towards chrollo, its because he’s so responsible🥹🥹🥹 like do you see the way that he basically takes care of the troupe? fathered so hard he mothered tbh. chrollo is literally so girl dad coded🥺 prolly cried when his held his child for the first time. he’d be the sweetest, brushing his daughter’s hair and taking her shopping.

2. pakunoda. she’s so respectful and self sacrificial and responsible im crying🥺 she makes me cry real skibidi tears like togashi look at what you took away from us. she’d be the literal sweetest mama ever. she’s soooo girl mom coded it’s insane. can you imagine her painting her daughter’s nails pink?🥹💕 she would 100% take her daughter on mall trips all the time.

3. phinks. controversial opinion but this guy would lowkey but SUCH A GOOD DAD. remember during the chimera ant arc when he gave shizuku his clothes because she lost hers? i just KNOW that he would play video games with his son and once begrudgingly wore a tiara for his daughter.

4. franklin. i don’t think he’d ever have kids (or want them for that matter), but if ever were to babysit kids, just know that he’ll be great. since we all know that he’s literally just a chill guy, he’ll just let the kids play video games and eat food the whole time.

5. nobunaga. okay okay HEAR ME OUT HE WOULD BE SO CUTE. like okay he wouldn’t be a “good” parent, but can you imagine him running around with his kid wreaking havoc and letting them play with his hair? like come on that’s literally like my dream dad😭❤️

6. shizuku. now she definitely is NOT responsible, but she doesn’t even need to be because she’ll lowkey be so chill and nice with her kids. there’s a saying that kids like pretty girls, and shizuku is definitely that. she’ll probably let her kids play on her phone or something, and i lowkey don’t think she’ll care if they take her glasses or smth.

7. machi. she’s responsible, don’t get me wrong, but i think she’ll be a bit too strict on her kid because she has trouble expressing any positive emotions. but when her kid runs away crying, she’ll instantly feel SO BAD and try her best to comfort the kid. she might make them a doll or some clothes or something.

8. bonolenov. we don’t really know too much about him, but he seems to care a lot about the troupe, so then it’s probably natural to assume that he’ll be the same with his children, if he ever has any, of course. he’ll probably teach them about their clan and what the holes in his clan’s body symbolizes.

9. shalnark. now, he’s a friendly and “sweet” guy, but i have a strong feeling that he wouldn’t like kids very much. they’re probably too dumb and pure for his liking, and he probably feels sort of uncomfortable when it comes to kids. if he finds out that someone is going to have his kids, then 90% of the time, shalnark will pull a ging freecss. the other 10% of the time, he’ll try his best.

10. uvogin. he’s the type of guy to want his child to learn how to fight and learn Nen as soon as possible, even if he has to initiate them to unlock their aura nodes. he’d lowkey drink beer one day and offer his kids some beer too, forgetting that they’re underage. but he loves his kids dearly though and would do anything for them, so that’s good enough.

11. feitan. oh this guy HATES KIDS. he finds them annoying and loud and stupid, and he gets the ick even when he LOOKS at a kid. if he ever had a kid, (which he probably wouldn’t but just hypothetically speaking) he’d have less of a reaction considering how that kid literally comes from inside of him, but he’d begrudgingly raise them as best he can…if it’s a son. if it’s a daughter, then i feel like he’ll be much softer and (try to be) more gentle.

12. illumi. pretty self explanatory tbh. he’ll love his kids dearly, but he’ll express it in toxic and unhealthy ways (he’ll also put them through terrible Zoldyck training)

13. hisoka. do NOT let this man near kids, even his own.

———

kalluto, kortopi - how do you expect them to have children when they’re literally children themselves?

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intheshadows2000s · 3 days ago

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Bug

In the charmless morning, I promise to be gone

Warnings: 18+! smut

This is Part Three

Part Two

Days passed where the revelation sat clear in your mind. Everytime you saw Alex, all you could imagine was a little girl in his arms. Everytime you saw him slide into his car, you imagined that he was going home to her. Everytime you saw him munching on his cereal, you wondered if he hadn't had time to eat because he was getting her ready for the day.

Your perspective on him had completely changed. And yet....there was no reason for you to keep observing. Alex had made it clear that he couldn't be with you, nor try in any capacity, to fit you into his life. You accepted it, of course you did. But that didn't stop you from wondering.

"Oh, sorry!"

You bumped into her, so lost in your mind that you hadn't even realised where your body was taking you. You were moving on muscle memory alone, no regard for your surroundings. You'd trusted your body to get you into the room mindlessly, but that proved wrong.

"Don't worry love, I know what it's like!" Joanna giggled as she helped you pick up your things. She had a kind face, prominent cheekbones and piercing baby blue eyes that nearly sent a shiver through you. You stared into them with a shy smile as you both stood back up, your things back in hand and yet you didn't make a move to leave and neither did she.

"Friday isn't it?" she sighed, "sometimes I come in and I don't even know what I'm thinking half the time."

You chuckle, "yeah. It's....the break couldn't come soon enough."

Which was a stark difference to how you'd started this term. You'd been so excited; trivial things like the leaves changing and the icy winter mornings seemed pathetic compared to what you were experiencing now. You didn't even notice the branches on the trees or the beauty of the morning anymore. Not when you'd spent weeks in your head.

"You're literature right?"

You nod, "modern."

"Ah," she grins, her white teeth sparkling under the light, eyes bright and beautiful, "my favourite."

"I better head to class," you shift the books further up your chest, suddenly feeling small and insecure next to her. She's clearly larger than life, seems nice and is gorgeous. You're not surprised Alex had his eye on her but the two of you couldn't be anymore different. Did he get with you for that reason? Because you were different to the relationship that failed him? To the mistakes that haunt him?

"Sure," she stepped out of your way with a smile, "Joanna by the way."

"Samantha," you smiled back, though felt the reserve in it.

"See you around Samantha."

You buried your head in your hands at the end of the day. It had been a harrowing week - another one - and you were starting to get really fed up of your own mind that wouldn't stop racing, wouldn't stop tiring you out before you had a chance to wake up and face the day like the positive, strong woman you were a mere few weeks ago.

You sat in the staff room, stalling the process of going home even though your bed was telepathically tempting you. Your feet felt heavy despite being pressed steady against the ground, you felt overcome with emotion but which one, you couldn't decipher yourself. The scent of dust tickled your nose and your eyes were heavy, cheeks hot as you pressed your palms to them. But you couldn't move. You didn't want to move. You sat there for ages, unmarked papers beneath your hands, wondering when you'd get the motivation to move.

You knew it was wrong - ridiculous, even - to mourn over something that had barely started. And that's where the inner turmoil came into play. You couldn't believe how pathetic you were being and yet you couldn't figure out how to stop feeling this way.

The room was dark, only a few lone lights left on out of the several cast on the ceiling. It was late - hours had passed and you'd managed to mark a few papers but you were still lost in your mind, the words in front of you nonsensical, jumbled beneath your tired eyes.

When you heard the door creak, you jumped, looking up with wide eyes to the source of the noise.

Alex had his eyes fixed on his phone, the other hand moving to his hair once the door had been released. He walked in absentmindedly, not noticing you at first and you couldn't find it within yourself to speak, to interrupt the motions of his being.

But as you shuffled slightly, your chair creaked and he looked up with a comically alarmed expression, a small gasp leaving his lips. His eyes slowly softened when he realised it was you and you smiled sheepishly, shyly almost.

"Hey."

He smiled, "hey."

"Enjoying the peace?" you nodded back to what he'd told you at the beginning - that he loved working alone when everyone else was gone.

"Mhm," he chuckled, "you?"

"Yeah...."

He moved to the kettle with the mug you hadn't noticed. Although, throughout your many, many observations of him, it wasn't hard to gauge that he was a caffeine addict. You rarely saw him spare of a coffee, usually with some kind of sweet syrup around the rim and a load of frothy milk.

"You want one?" he waves the mug in the air, a beat passes where you stare at it wondering whether it's even appropriate to say yes. But eventually, you nod. It's not like you're going anywhere anyway.

Alex is quiet as he makes the drinks, the kettle being the only thing to make a sound in the room. The air feels still and yet tension threatens the corners of the room, ready to seep in and make you both squirm if needs be. For now, you avert your eyes back to the papers and try to remain calm - begging your heart not to pound, begging your mind not to stray.

It surprises you when Alex places your coffee down, the steam bringing a warmth to you that you didn't know you needed and you breathe a sigh of relief. But instead of scurrying off - he pulls a chair out and sits next to you.

"You don't mind?"

You shake your head and he smiles in relief, eyes saying things his lips never could.

The two of you refocus on your work. You actually feel more content with someone around. It's hard to think about the source of your problems too deeply when he's sat right next to you. His presence overwhelming but for once, you're comfortable in it. He's busy marking work too, a small frown on his brow, a crease in his glabella making him look angrier than he probably is.

His hand is heavy, the sound of his own scratching the paper much more prominent than your delicate scribble.

A while passes, you manage to get engrossed in your work but then you notice that Alex's scribble has stopped. You look up to find him looking at you. He's leant on his elbows, his eyes glazed with something, some emotion that you can't work out. Even as you look at him though, he doesn't look away. He doesn't blush, doesn't waver. He just stays, staring, intense as ever, raising goosebumps all over your skin without even trying.

"Can I kiss you?"

"Ale-"

He cuts you off. You barely comprehend that his body moves, but he's launched at you before you can. His lips reach yours, hot and wet and hard from the get go, one hand finding your cheek, the other gripping the table edge like it's trying - and failing - to hold him back.

Your gasp is swallowed by him as his lips slide over yours, unmoving, eyes wide open in shock. But soon enough the familiar heat, the simmering desire, overtakes you. You kiss him back, moaning gratefully at the taste of him, coffee and mint and smoke. The feel of his rough hands stroking at your skin. The weight of his want, unspoken and yet clear as anything.

He's out of breath when he pulls away, resting his forehead on yours. You stare into his eyes, dazzling with a spark of something, perhaps excitement. You can't help but smile, and at that he returns it, before kissing you all over again.

Desperation overcomes you both. You don't know how but suddenly you're both stood, pressed against each other. His fingers draw delicate patterns on your hips and your fingers tug at the roots of his wild, untamed hair. The scent of his engulfs you, the familiarity making you feel comfortable - as if you're exactly where you should be, doing exactly what you should.

The world around you crumbles, leaving you stood in a dark abyss of him, him, him and nothing beyond that. You don't even try to understand it this time, you just let it happen and revel in it.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers against your lips, "I just couldn't help myself."

His accent, blended with roughness and lust, nearly makes your knees buckle. You grip him harder, pulling him closer. The heat of him against your thigh, hard and wanting, is too tempting. You have the urge to please him, to relieve the tension he always seems to be carrying around. And so, you let yourself fall, and he watches you with heavy lidded eyes as your knees hit the scratchy carpet with a soft thud.

It's so dangerous what you're doing. At work, where anyone could walk in, any cleaners, any other teachers, the dean even. But you don't care, not in the moment when you're tugging at the tough button of his trousers and unzipping them.

Alex lets his fingers rest in your hair, the carefully conducted curls falling loose under his grip. He holds you steady, still, as you pull him out of his boxers.

You hadn't seen him last time, hadn't managed to observe but only feel. Now, you gasped when faced with him, well endowed, swollen and leaking all for you.

"You're so big," you whispered, your hand wrapping around the base of him. He was too thick for you to fully wrap your hand around. It was no wonder you'd spent all of last weekend hobbling around like a penguin.

He chuckled, "I guess I'll take it as a compliment."

"You should," you look up to him with wide eyes, innocence replaced with something sultry. One of his hands came around to cup your jaw, his touch tender, alluding to the fact his desire goes beyond just the physical.

You played with him for a while, your touch tantalising, lips swelling in anticipation and yet you wouldn't lean forward, wouldn't take him right where he wanted you most.

His eyes, wide and brown were pleading with you to do more. To take him. But you looked at him with heavy lidded eyes and a smirk that said it all. He'd have to ask.

You stroked him again, languid movements intent to tease. A whimper slipped from his lips that made your hold tighter. His back hit the wall with a thud but you were right there beneath him, crawling to meet him again, one hand around him, one hand stroking his trembling thigh.

"Fuck Sam," he groaned, just as you spat on him, spreading it down him for a smoother touch. He shuddered at the friction, everything was going so perfectly for you but his hips were chasing your touch and you weren't even close to giving in.

"Does that feel nice?" you raised your eyebrows, the glint in your eyes sinister. It was a side to you that you hadn't even discovered but seemed to enthral him. Behind the desperation, you could see that he was loving it. Loving you. On your knees. Torturing him.

"You know it does," he gasps, making you giggle as you kept moving, kept your pace slow, "come on love. You know I need more."

"Do I?" you purr in response, moving your mouth to his tip, pressing your lips just against him enough to taste the saltiness and warmth of his pre release. Alex's hips stutter, a low groan falling from his lips. His hand in your hair pushes your head in, an uncontrollable action but necessary nonetheless.

You know you're dancing on the edge of time. As much as you'd like to draw this out for minutes, hours, even - you don't have the leniency to do so. Not now, at least.

So you lean in, encasing your lips over him, finally giving him what he's so clearly craving. He takes a sharp inhale of breath, it releases in short spurts with some sweet, soft hums escaping him between them.

You start your rhythm, embracing the feel of him in you again, the heat of him in your mouth. Alex is loud off the bat, not shy like last time and he keeps his eyes driven to you as you move. Chocolate brown pools with adoration swirling around his irises nearly make you collapse against him and beg him to be yours. Steady hands that find your hair, twirling the strands around long fingers make you want to fall against him and never let go, beg him to hold you forever.

"That's so good darling," he whispers, soft like velvet, making your heart clench in its cavity, your stomach flip. You never knew a moment so heated, so full of passion and desperation, could also be so damning. There's something about the way he looks at you, the way he touches you that feels as if it's branding you to be his, to want nothing more than him. If you thought you were a goner before, this is sealing the deal.

"You're gorgeous," he breathes out, a moan tumbling from swollen lips when you swirl your tongue over him, staring up through your lashes. His cheeks, stained red, beads of perspiration forming on his forehead as he sucks in another breath. You play for a while, trying to find what makes him tick; you find that when you take him deep, to the point tears are streaming and you're close to gagging, his hips bucks like he means to become you and a strained curse falls from his lips.

So you do it again, and again, until he's near unravelled, looking dishevelled against the wall.

"Fuck...." Alex's hips stutter, his eyes rolling somewhere into the back of his head in time with his head, banging against the wall. The tremble of his thighs under your palms make you smirk against him, still swirling and sucking like your life depends on it, the lewd wet sounds bouncing off the walls.

"Oh Christ," his hand tightens in your hair, enough for it to hurt but you ignore the pain, "I'm gonna-"

He cuts himself off with a groan, the look of urgency in his eyes makes you smile around him but you don't pull off and so he lets himself go, not that he appears to have much choice. His eyes fall closed as he releases in your mouth, a soft whimper falling from his lips that's like music to your ears.

Eventually he stalls your movements, gentle now but overstimulating nonetheless. He's breathless, undone and in awe when you stand up, shaky on your legs. He cups your elbows and kisses you deeply, humming into your mouth with a sound much like content. Much like fulfilment.

"Thank you," he mutters against your lips, pulling away with a watery gaze full of unspoken words. The air has been tainted and yet the fear to make it worse still lingers, you take a step back from each other, staring wordlessly towards each other. You're pining, he's pining but there's something invisible between you both telling you that it isn't right. That it can't be.

You pulled your phone out, muttering something about sorting yourself out only to gasp in horror when your reflection finds your eyes.

Alex looked perfectly composed. You, however, definitely didn't. Your makeup had run, your hair was a state from his eager hands and your cheeks were spotted with red from the lack of oxygen you'd consumed while going down on him.

"I look terrible," you groaned, trying to tame your hair but without a brush there wasn't really much you could do. Alex grimaced and shook his head.

"No you don't."

"Okay," you rolled your eyes, making him stifle a smile, "but I do look like I've just sucked a dick."

"Yes well," he laughs, "I think it suits you."

"Cheeky!" you exclaimed, watching his face light up and his shoulders relax as the laughs rumble through him. It's rare to see him casual, lost in anything other than his own mind. But it's a sight to behold, and you can't help but smile at it. At him. Being like this with you.

You wonder how long it will last this time. Whether on Monday, you'll stride in and act like you barely know each other again. Alex is confusing, even in his explanations. You don't have it in you to ask and ruin the moment but you hope, pray, that he won't shut you out all over again. Even if you're just friends, it's better than him having his way and then ignoring you entirely.

"The Christmas party is soon," he says. You've both packed up and began walking to the car park. You still don't look presentable but luckily it's just the two of you around, bar a few students on campus that you thankfully don't recognise, "are you going?"

"Jane has mentioned it and I've said yes," you nod and he smiles.

"Great."

"Are you going?"

"Mhm."

You roll your eyes at his classic response, the same one that used to grate on you, you now found endearing. You knew why; you were starting to like him. It was probably dangerous territory, one that he'd actively stated you both shouldn't cross. You were staring straight into the face of fire, feeling the heat of the flames and yet you just kept walking towards it like the blend of oranges had you hypnotised beyond sense.

"Come to mine before. For dinner."

"But you said about....we can't...."

"Please?" he said, stopping at your car. You stood by the door, peering inside like there might be a sign in there on what decision to make. Nothing. Just darkness and one glistening penny.

"Well don't you think....if we turn up together?"

"We'll walk in separately," he defends, "it's no biggie."

"No biggie?" you raise your eyebrows, barely suppressing a smile at the casual language. Alex rarely talks like an actual human being and more like a human novel. He smiles and nods and so you shrug.

"I'll think about it."

He nods and you get in your car, he taps the window and waves as you pull out of the car park, watching his silhouette slowly fade from your vision in the rear view.

Alex's apartment feels like an entirely different space from when you were last here. The room, bathed in a warm yellow glow, appeared cosy and inviting opposed to the darkness that had swallowed you last time.

He took your coat and you blushed as your eyes grazed over the leather settee, still tainted in your minds eye with what had occurred on those very cushions. You felt like you could see the two of you on it, him on top of you, your heels dug into his pale skin, your nails digging into his shoulder blades, leaving marks that were yet to fade.

It smelt of vanilla, but blended in was the classic, warm scent of old spice. For once, you couldn't smell smoke. Your eyes grazed over the simple decoration. It wasn't much of a home, per se, there were no photos, no ornaments, no nod into who he was beyond the university walls. But in the corner sat a guitar, a sleek black fender, it looked expensive with its perfectly polished silver strings and the lights bouncing off its varnished texture. Other than that - beige, black and white was all that met your eyes.

You'd hoped the light would offer some insight to his character. Maybe there would be a photo of him and his daughter, or a novel that strayed from his usual interest or even a record on a shelf to show what music he likes. But nothing. Nothing except that guitar. At least that explained the callouses. One, tiny minuscule detail about him that you now knew, felt like a success.

"Drink?" Alex wondered, walking to the open plan kitchen. The beige counter tops were offensively ugly, he looked wrong stood there so beautifully in a tux against something that looked so nineties and not the trendy part.

"Sure."

"I've got water, tea and wine," he shrugged and you laughed.

"Wine."

"White? Red?"

"White."

"Mhm."

He busied himself making the drinks while you sat at a glass table, perfectly clean, not one scratch, nor clutter on it. It made sense that he was a clean freak, his office was the same. But he himself appeared so unorganised, that it was a stark difference. Another small thing that seemed a success to know. Yet no less confusing.

"How long have you lived here?"

"Hm?" Alex glanced around, his cheeks splotched with various shades of pink and red, lips pulled inward. It was almost as if he'd forgotten you were there, the guest he'd so brashly invited here, long lost in the mind that raced beyond his comprehension.

"Oh, um....about five years."

"Is that when you started living here....or?"

"I've always lived here, well, in the city," he moved over to you with the glasses of wine and sat next to you at the table, "I moved into this flat when I got the job at the uni."

"What did you do before?"

He took a gulp of wine. Your incessant questions were clearly putting him on edge but at least he was answering them with more than his notorious 'mhm'. You'd probably leave if he dared utter that as a response again.

"I was a teacher at a secondary school. But I hated it."

You chuckle, "yeah. I've heard it's the worst of education."

"The kids are just too uninterested," Alex shrugs, "I was the same at their age. They aren't old enough to....appreciate art, you know? I find it tough trying to pitch it. So I'd rather work with young adults, who at least think they'll be interested."

You hum in response, momentarily wondering what he's like as a lecturer. You can't imagine him conducting a class, stood at the front demanding the attention of several bored students. You try to engage as much as possible, choosing activity based learning and practice opposed to informative learning where you speak the whole time. How Alex might teach is lost on you, but something tells you those students respect him more than it may seem. He doesn't verbalise his expectations, but they're clear nonetheless. Even with you. Silent command. No room for defiance.

Alex asks you about your life, how you ended up here, where you've come from. You don't have the same experiences that he has but he still nods enthusiastically while you speak, seeming interested in learning more about you.

After a while, your stomach rumbles. It isn't audible but Alex can sense your discomfort nonetheless.

"I can't cook," he states, making you cock your head, "literally, not at all. It's my worst....trait.”

"Really?" you narrow your gaze, making him laugh, "I reckon there's worse things than that."

"I've got some menus here," he pulls some takeaway menus from a draw, spreading them neatly before you like he's presenting rehab choices opposed to dinner, "if you wanted a takeaway."

"We can just have food from the buffet when we get to the party, if you like," you shrug. Alex looks relieved and puts them away before you both move to the settee to continue your conversation.

You're surprised by how easy it is to talk to him when he's actually relaxed. You thought you knew of him before, now you realised that you hadn't had him sussed out at all. The panicky, quick nature of him at work was not the same laidback, easygoing man in front of you now. The fumbling, awkward conversations that had jeopardised your opinion at the beginning, were nothing on how intensely he listened to you now, asked questions, offered answers.

You got so carried away talking to him, that you forgot about the party entirely. But then....his phone rang.

"Sorry," he winced, moving towards it. He looked at the contact and let out a silent sigh, before holding his finger up to you and leaving the room.

You sat straight up on the settee, your ears practically stretching to hear what was being said. You were being assumptive thinking it must be her, but something deep in your gut, something wedging into you and making you queasy, told you it was.

You could barely hear him, it was more a gruff jumble of sounds opposed to any clear words, probably because he was trying to speak as lowly as he could so you wouldn't hear. Regardless, you picked up on a few short sentences.

"....will be there soon....lost track of time."

That's about all you heard before his goodbye rung out loud and clear. A few moments passed before he left the room, as if he was gathering himself. You knew that the night was over the second you saw his face, scrunched up with sorrow.

"That was Joanna," he said, lingering next to the chair that his coat was hung over, "um....I promised I'd look after Noelle for the second part of the evening so she could go to the party. So....I won't be able to make it to the party. We lost track of time."

"Oh, okay," you stand quickly, as if you need to race out quite literally this second.

"I'm sorry," he swallowed but you shook your head, fixing him with a smile.

"It's okay Alex, I understand. I'll call a taxi quickly-"

"I'll drive you there, I've only had one," he points to the wine.

"Oh no you don't have to," you wave off, feeling a little awkward. It's not that you expect to be his first priority, you're not even sure what this is, whether this is a date or just friendly like he'd claimed when he invited you. Either way, it felt weird for it to end so abruptly. You were used to dating people who had all the time outside of work free, which meant sleepovers and attending bars and parties with no worries. Momentarily, you'd forgotten this man was a father. He had priorities outside of you, and you couldn't blame him for it. Not at all.

"It's really no trouble, it's pretty much on the way."

"Okay," you caved, pulling your coat over your shoulders. Your half drunk wine sat mockingly on the table, a reminder of your interrupted night. Just when you'd started to melt into the evening, it was ripped away from you.

"Thanks for the wine, and the company. See you on Monday."

You climbed out of the car, waving goodbye to Alex who had his bottom lip caught between his teeth. He nodded, smiling but it was a meek smile. You weren't the only one affected by the abruptness of the end.

Regardless, you went inside and immediately made a beeline towards the bar ordering another glass of wine, even if you knew you shouldn't.

As you sat there, waiting for it to be served, you couldn't help but think about this....all of it. Alex having a daughter complicated things. But having a daughter with a woman who worked at the same place as you? That just made it worse. Soon enough, she'd be striding into this party and you'd have to pretend you hadn't been the reason he was late. It makes your skin crawl with unease. There was nothing between them, he said it himself. But a whole child? That's more than anything at all. That's more than a house, a marriage, it's even more than love. It's forever. There's no escaping it. Not that you'd want him to step away from it, especially not for you. But you can't deny it - it's hard to imagine ever being comfortable with the idea of being second best. Of him sharing something so precious, so personal, with someone else entirely.

You'd never even thought about being in this position, even though you're now in your thirties, and it was common. It still felt so foreign. Something you thought only happened to older people, to divorcees, to people who had had it all rather than some random encounter that led to something so serious. So permanent.

You had to admit that you weren't ready for it. To be in that position, to understand it even. And you were grateful that Alex had already laid down the law that it wouldn't work, stated he didn't have the time, wasn't in the position. Because admitting out loud that you weren't mature enough to cope with it would surely make you seem terrible. Especially when you like him so much.

Christmas break followed the party, and you were eager for some time to recover from the weird second half of this semester. Papers were due and you still had some marking to do before you were completely free, but that was pale in comparison to the work you'd had to manage during the term so you certainly wouldn't complain.

The town felt dull and empty when bared of the students. You walked through it with your shopping at hand. It was freezing but you'd fancied a walk nonetheless. The peace of the town hung over you in a blanket of comfortability. Even if it was bizarre not to hear the buzz of young people around the streets, it was nice for it to be still for a while.

You smiled at an older couple walking past, a woman walking with her kids, a man with a dog that jumped at you and made you giggle. Everybody was clad in hats and scarves and gloves, winter had come, full frontal but you loved how cosy it all was.

You found yourself sidling up in a cafe, a burning hot tea between your hands. The tie on cushions didn't disguise the hardness of the wood chair beneath you, the table was a little sticky with remnants of sugar poured throughout the day and they were playing radio pop hits that were so overplayed it made your ears hurt - but you felt content nonetheless. You leant back into your seat with a sigh, watching the people in the streets, the wind blowing around rubbish and leaves, the sky greying in preparation for a downpour you should probably try and avoid. But here you are, revelling in all the little attributes that make up a season.

"Samantha?"

A woman called your name, snapping you out of the peaceful trance you'd let swallow you whole. It was almost brutal being pulled back to reality, the music harsher, the tea scalding you as it poured over the rim when you jumped.

You looked up as you sucked the droplets off the side of your finger, catching sight of Joanna with that big, bright and brilliant smile. You glanced down to her side, she was holding the hand of a little girl who looked vacant, big brown eyes boring into nothing in particular. Her cheeks were red rosy from the sharp, cold air and she was wrapped up in a red felt coat that looked so cute you'd usually gush over it. But you couldn't gush. You couldn't even speak. You just looked back at Joanna, uselessly forming nothing except an awkward, forced smile.

"Fancy seeing you here! I love this place," she gestures around, "my mum actually owns it. So I could've got you that on the house if I'd seen you."

"Oh....no it's fine, thank you," you waved it off, eyes widening when she took a seat at your table, pulling the child onto her lap. You were in no position to tell her to leave, especially not in a place her own family owned. You felt so awkward that tears prickled at the corner of your eyes. Suddenly, the scalding tea felt more comfortable than her eyes on you.

"It's a beautiful place," you said, "when the students aren't here I like the quiet."

"Bad for business, but hell....good for some peace," she hummed in agreement.

"This is your daughter?" you gesture towards her, she's now gazing curiously at you, eyes so familiar to Alex's that it was almost scary. You lifted your tea to your lips only to cloud the view of her staring at you. You just couldn't bear it. You didn't even know if Alex would want this, you and the mother of his child sharing a tea like the oldest of mates with his own daughter felt so wrong. And yet she had no idea. You can't help but wonder what she'd think about you if she knew, or whether Alex had told her at all. Maybe she was trying to be nice to relax you, make it known that she wasn't a threat. Or maybe she was just clueless. You prayed for the first but knew Alex well enough that it would be the latter.

"Yes," Joanna looked down, lifting her daughter's hand up to wave, "say hello Noelle."

"Hello," the child's voice was a mere whisper, a sweet, subtle melody that made you smile despite yourself, despite the discomfort.

"Hi Noelle," you grinned, "that's such a beautiful name. So christmassy."

She smiled shyly, her cheeks glowing a beautiful rosy pink, "mummy says because I was born around Christmas."

Her pronunciation of the word made you chuckle, you and Joanna sharing that look that women do, when they're enamoured by a child just being so cute, so innocent.

"It's her birthday soon?" you wonder.

"Yeah," she kissed the top of her head, a teasing pout coming to play on her lips, "she'll be four. It feels horrible knowing she's getting older but I love it all the same. My little bestie, aren't you love?"

"Mhm," she nodded.

Alex. All you could see in her was Alex. Sure, she had the same face shape as her mother, the same raven dark hair. But her eyes, her words, even her mannerisms alluded to him enough that you'd probably consider she was his even if you hadn't known.

"Her dad is taking her to the farm today for an early celebration," Joanna smiled, "he should be here soon. You might know him actually, he's-"

"Sorry I'm late, traffic was-"

Alex burst in. In light of your conversation, you'd not even heard the bell ring. He stopped, skidded to a halt right at the edge of the table, nearly toppling over it. His eyes darted, from you, to Joanna, to Noelle who was grinning up at him, clearly excited to see her father.

"Oh....er....hi Sam."

"Alex," you nodded curtly and then stood, barely able to comprehend how this was happening. How your morning had been so relaxed and peaceful and somehow, despite that, he had come in like a tidal wave to ruin it all over again.

"I better get going before this defrosts," you lift up your shopping bag like it's proof in your measly excuse. Joanna glances between you and Alex, the smile on her lips faltering a little, like she can't work out why the air has grown so tense but she will soon enough.

"Nice seeing you Joanna, and lovely to meet you Noelle."

You rushed off before another word could be said, trembling with the realisation that you couldn't have handled it worse. Nevertheless, you keep walking, not even daring to glance into the window they're all still sat at,

The last thing you'd expected was to meet their daughter. Or for her to tell you about it. The way Alex had said it was as if no one at all knew, but clearly she was far less ashamed of the fact than he was. Or he just hated David interfering, which you couldn't blame him for.

Regardless, it took you hours to stop cringing and even then, every time you thought of it after, you grimaced to nothing and no one in particular. You'd barely spoken to Alex after that night at his. It wasn't personal and this time it wasn't just him - the end of a semester is busy for anyone involved. He'd still been friendly around and you too, you'd just assumed that was it. You were bound to be friendly at work and nothing more. You didn't even have his number, it had been a while since anything had happened. You were safe in the knowledge that you weren't ready and neither was he. That was it.

But this felt harrowing.

You groaned to yourself, burying your face in your hands on the settee. It was a small town and you bumped into people you knew frequently, but that didn't mean it wasn't weird that there'd been some big family reunion that you were smack bang in the middle of.

But then, it happened again. You were starting to think it wasn't a coincidence. What are the chances you'd bump into her again? So soon after seeing her beforehand. You felt as if she was seeking you out. You'd turned up to your local park run, hoping to clear your head with an easy pace and some good music. And there she just happened to be, stood with a group of women, some holding prams, some dogs and some childless. It looked like the cast of desperate housewives, but maybe that was just mean and you were bitter.

Either way, you'd have been happy to avoid her and pretend you'd not seen a thing. But of course, she spotted you, long arm waving high in the air and that same bright smile on her lips. You imagine Alex got out of it the other day, somehow, and that's why she's being so friendly.

"Hey Sam!" she ran over, jogging on the spot unlike you, arms crossed and suddenly regretting your decision to come to this stupid, trivial event, "we need to stop bumping into each other like this! What are the chances!"

You chuckled, it was a polite, but uncomfortable sound - almost weak. She didn't catch on, just waffled on about how she’s here every week, how much she loves it, how you should join them after for a coffee. You nod and hum where needs be, for the first time in your life wishing you'd been late so you could avoid this.

You ended up running your fastest pace ever, trying to finish the race before she did so you wouldn't have to talk to her over. The minute you were covered by the roof of your car, engulfed by a space that was just your own, you breathed a sigh of relief and basked in it for several minutes.

Luckily the next few weeks that passed, you didn't see her again. You spent a week in your hometown with family, and then new years with a friend somewhere else. By the time you returned, you felt okay again, ready again to face a new semester.

The students weren't back yet but it was early January and there was a lecturer training day to attend. You were nervous to see Alex but at the same time excited to see Jane and to get back into some normalcy after a month of eating crap and drinking wine.

Alex was already in the room when you entered, leant back in a chair spinning his pen around his fingers. A sheet with the agenda on sat before him, not that he seemed to be paying attention to it. Other than you, Jane who was leading the class and another lecturer who didn't even lift their head, he was the only one here.

You decided to bite the bullet, taking the seat next to him. He didn't even look around, he was engrossed in something or the other, you could never figure it out in that placid gaze. But when your hand laid on his upper arm, he jolted slightly before looking to you, those eyes displaying something much softer, more tender as they fixed on your face.

They roamed around your features, as if in the mere month that passed, he'd forgotten them entirely. But with each freckle, each crevice, each line of your face, he looked more and more enamoured. It can't have been longer than a second, but that second seemed to stretch into weeks, months, years. By the time his eyes returned to yours, your heart was racing and your mouth was dry.

You'd been looking at him too, studying the little things about him as if you'd forgotten it all too. The little mark below his lips, the fluffiness of his dark eyebrow, his perfectly straight but large nose, the way his stubble had grown in. Typically, all flaws. And yet you found something beautiful about all of them.

"How are you?"

"I'm fine," you swallowed, "tired. You?"

"Mhm," he nodded, his eyes growing hazy, as if he was in a lull caused by your presence, by the mood you emitted, "yes. Me too."

Nothing more was said, but it didn't feel like there needed to be. You worked next to each other in a comfortable silence, heavy with mood but not necessarily in a bad way. Unspoken words hung between you both, none cynical, none offensive - all pointing to what would happen, what you both knew you wanted the second you'd locked eyes today.

The day dragged on, you all sat, bored, disengaged, all still lost in the haze of Christmas just passed. It wasn't just the two of you and yet, it was bizarre that you two, different completely, but both constant thrivers, weren't interested at all.

By the time lunch came about, you jumped out of your seat and Alex wasn't far behind. He grabbed your hand, making sure it was just the two of you in the corridor before he dragged you into his office.

Two minutes passed, he was on you, hot, heavy, but not fast, not desperate like he usually was. He took his time, savouring each kiss you let him have, each stroke of your tongue against his own. His hands gripped your hips, but he wasn't tearing your clothes off, not yet anyway.

You appreciated the lull in the pace, the gentleness, the warmth. You found it endearing that he didn't only care about his fix, but the build up mattered to him too.

"I haven't stopped thinking about you," he said against your mouth, opened in a gasp as his palm slid up your front, fingers grazing just the edges of your breasts, "not even for a second."

"Me too," your admission was softly spoken, shyly spoken almost. You felt ashamed to admit it, after being so sure with yourself that it was over, that you weren't ready. But he was hard to resist, gorgeous, endearing and so, fucking, sexy.

"Yeah?" he grumbled, a low throaty groan leaving his lips when you pressed against him, your arms caught around his back, pulling him as close as you possibly could, "missed me?"

You huffed a laugh that soon turned into a moan when his hands caught you, lifting you up as he often did. He walked you both over to the desk, no urgency in his actions but you could feel his want nonetheless.

He placed you down gently, the wood pressing into your arse but you didn't mind - especially when he started kissing down your jaw, to your neck, sucking on the little pressure points that made you shiver and grope him tighter.

"What is it?" he wondered, pulling away momentarily. Your hand had slipped between you both, cupping him as he swelled beneath your palm. He wasn't fully hard yet but by the second he was growing, you could feel each inch expand as you squeezed and rubbed him right where he needed you.

"About you? What is it about you?" he spoke in hushed, broken sentences. It made your heart ache, the fact he felt that way, the same way that you did him.

"Alex...." you sighed, pulling his head back into the curve of your nape, stroking the soft, bouncy strands. He let his face rest there, even though he was fully hard beneath his trousers, he was making no attempt to continue.

"I don't wanna fuck you like this," he whispered, his voice muffled but you heard him clearly. For a moment you felt offended, thinking that he didn't want you at all. But then he looked up, his eyes filled with something sweet, something that alluded to how he saw this as more, even if he shouldn't, even if that threshold wasn't meant to be crossed by either of you.

You were teetering on the edge of it nonetheless, you knew it, and he did too. A quick shag in his office was exactly what would stop you crossing that boundary. But he didn't want just that. Even if it was just a shag. His eyes told you he wanted to do it properly, to take you properly. Like you deserved.

"I want this," you whispered, your hands gripping the collar of his shirt, you forced him to look at you, to see you. Legs spread, chest spotted red, perspiration on your hairline, desperate for him, "I want you."

His eyes fluttered closed as he leant into kiss you, all his resolve crumbling at your sultry admission. He couldn't resist your seduction, and it wasn't even that he wanted to. This was complicated and you both knew it, but when he was on you, touching you like this....neither of you cared.

Alex lifted your skirt up to your hips, fiddling with his belt and then his button with a dark expression as he stared at you. Your breath came in quick, short spurts that echoed through the space. You could see your chest in your peripheral vision, rising and falling rapidly, matching the pace of the moment, your heart beating erratically.

You didn't look down even as he pulled himself out, shifting your hips closing to the edge so he could align with you. His hands came down against your cheeks and his mouth covered yours in a tender kiss as he started to push in.

You were tight, even if you were also warm and wet. He hissed as you gripped him and your mouths fell open against each other once he buried himself to the hilt, swallowing each other's gasps.

His eyes became glassy, his eyelids falling until they were nearly shut and he kept his lips hovering over yours as he started moving, slowly at first, letting you get used to his size, the shape and curves of him inside of you.

"Fuck," he hissed, "Christ....you're so tight."

"This is so bad," you mutter in his ear, as he moves inside of you slowly, teasingly. Your walls tighten around him, enamoured by his arrival, his small, gentle movements nudging the right spots to make you shiver, "anyone could walk in."

He let out a breathy chuckle, his mouth moving past your lips to the shell of your ear. He started to move his hips harder, hipbones clashing against your own, the sound of skin smacking skin echoing through the office, the walls probably barely concealing the explicit sounds.

"Would you like that Samantha?" he whispered, his voice deep, a teasing lull that coaxed a moan from your lips, "to be caught?"

You shook your head and he thrust harder, faster. One of his hands lifted your legs, the new angle allowing him deeper. It begged for a moan from you but you bit your lip until you could taste blood, trying not to react, not to make a sound or feed into his ego. He was good at pretending but you could see just how much this was affecting him too, a sweat broken out on his forehead, his white shirt sticking to his skin and turning transparent from the heat of his chest.

"No?" he teased you, hard, faster, deeper until you couldn't hold back your moans, no matter how hard you tried, "imagine what they'd think hm? Miss Williams, so kind, so helpful, so eager to learn...."

You could barely get a sound out other than piercing, high moans that would only alert the whole university to the ongoings. You bit into his shoulder, stifling yourself, making him hiss and fuck you harder.

"But you're such a dirty girl aren't you?" Alex continues, the hand holding your leg moving to your hair, gripping it at the roots and roughly pulling your head back so your eyes were fixed on him, "so fucking dirty."

"Alex," you whined, thrashing. He released you quickly, your head falling back against the desk along with your whole upper body. He grunted repeatedly as he unbuttoned the smart white shirt you had on, just enough so that your tits popped out.

The way you were laid made your body easier to explore. Alex laid one hand on your stomach to keep you in place, the other drifted to your middle, to rub you right where you needed him. You were swollen, puffy, so fucking wet that it was dripping all over your thighs and his desk. The lewd sounds of squelching could be heard throughout the room, mingling with your moans, his grunts, his hips smacking incessantly against your own. It was sinfully filthy, and you were loving it. The glint in his eye told you he knew it all the same.

His eyes fixed on yours, flickering between them and your tits that bounced with each thrust he gave. You took him well, but you were starting to tremble. The pleasure was unlike anything you'd ever felt, so indescribably euphoric that you could barely string a thought together, let alone a sentence.

Alex felt you tightening around him, the tension in you coiling to the point where all it would take is one, hard thrust and you'd crumble around him.

"You want to come?" he quirked a brow, his voice still low, filled with his lust. You could feel him twitching, your hands gripping the edges of the desk, preparing for him to take his desperation out on you. You nodded but he tuts in response, delivering a particularly hard thrust that had you shining, tears spilling from your eyes and staining your crimson cheeks.

"Words darling," his own voice had lost its authority. He spoke through his teeth, just barely hanging on. You clenched around him and he nearly fell on top of you but just about steadied himself, shuddering deeply.

"Yes," you sighed, "please Alex. I want to come. Please make me come."

He groaned, speeding up the pace of his fingers circling your clit, fucking you at an angle that made your vision starry, like you were laid under the stars on the clearest night of the year.

Within seconds you were finished, you gripped him like a vice, your back arching and your body shaking as you reached a peak you'd never been to before - not even in previous orgasms. Your vision went black as the euphoria fell over you like fairy dust that you couldn't grasp but would've clung onto forever if you could have.

Alex groaned, watching your face scrunched in pleasure, feeling the vice-like grip of you, he couldn't hold back any longer. He pulled out quickly, only just managing to grip the base of himself before his warm, thick cum landed in splatters across your chest. It came so fast, so much of it, that a streak even landed across your lips, warm and salty seeping through the seam, making you moan weakly.

Alex collapsed on top of you. The weight was comforting in your vulnerability, you held him close, feeling him soften and drip against your thigh. Your hands found the roots of his hair, careful, tender touches that made his breathing steady, his chest slow in its pace.

You laid like that for ages. You had an hour before you had to return, but food, socialisation - they were the last thing from your mind. You laid beneath him and you held him close as he breathed into you, nuzzling into your chest. His shirt was probably ruined from how it was pressed into his release, but that didn't stop him from trying to get closer, trying to feel as much of you as he could before he had to say goodbye again.

"Alex," you muttered, feeling the vibration of a soft hum against your collarbone, "we need to go back."

"I know," he sighed, but he didn't move and you didn't urge him to. Your grip on his tightened, legs circling his waist, arms circling his neck. You clung to him like you never meant to let him go, because in this moment, you couldn't even imagine doing so.

But eventually, you knew your time was up. Alex peeled himself away from you, dismay covering his brow when he looked towards his chest to see the now dried, white marks staining his shirt. He pulled his jumper back over his head, disguising it before he pulled some tissues free from a box on the window seal and gently wiped up the remainder of the liquid, now cooled and sticky against your chest.

His eyes flickered to you as he did so, full of content. You managed a small smile at him, legs kicking as they hung loosely from the desk.

"Can I have your number?"

You laughed. You couldn't help it. It just seemed so obscene that after everything he didn't even have somewhere to contact you. He joined in, noting just how weird it was - the backwards way you two had gone about things wasn't exactly a romance novel, but it was the narrative of you two. And he loved that.

While Alex returned to the room, you went to the bathroom to compose yourself and fix your makeup before you had to return. You stared at your reflection, poking at your red cheeks, your eyes now fixed but still watery, the swell of your lips from his heavy kisses. You traced them now, trying to remember the feel of them, the reenaction in your head making you shiver, still so sensitive even minutes later.

Nobody batted an eyelid when you returned, much to your relief. You sidled back up next to Alex with your secret close to your heart, your thighs brushing together beneath the table. You felt like a giddy teenager, his touch like a flame to your gasoline.

It was unspoken but something had changed. Become more raw, more personal in the weeks that had passed. You wondered how that could be possible when you hadn't even seen each other, but concluded that he'd lived rent free in your mind from the moment he'd kissed you. And you were in no mind to evacuate him. Not yet, at least.

At the end of the day, you walked in a comfortable silence to your cars. He lingered at yours even when everybody else was going home, looking over to you with a soft, pleading gaze.

"Will you come over?"

You nodded, not willing to argue with something you wanted. Needed, even. Whether that be a conversation, another encounter or hours of you watching television - you wanted some time with him after craving just that for so long.

You followed his car back to his apartment and walked wordlessly inside. You felt a lot more comfortable now than you had at the beginning but after his revelation, his behaviour had made sense and you forgave him.

"I'll make us a brew."

You nodded and made your way over to his settee, the piece of furniture now familiar to you. You sunk into the cushions with a sigh, letting your head fall back. You've been tired recently, trying to outrun your mind isn't easy.

Alex placed the tea in front of you, the mug steaming, bringing a comfortable aura to the space. He clicked on the lamps and turned off the big light before sidling up beside you on the settee, closer than he had before. His arm came to rest around your head, and the butterflies in your stomach felt juvenile. And then he was leaning in, kissing you again, making them flutter all the way up your throat until you couldn't breathe, couldn't move bar your lips, on his.

He kissed you until your lips hurt and you were both gasping for breath, only finally pulling away when the tent in his trousers began to ache. He pulled at them, the discomfort evident on his brow.

"I like you Samantha," he said as he pulled away, his voice full of a wonder that was almost childlike.

You felt bad though, ending up frowning and looking away opposed to melting into him like you wished you could. Alex seemed to tense immediately, his grip on your shoulder tightening as he gently shook you.

"Was that....too much?" he breathed out, the insecurity in his voice piercing. He'd admitted to you how hard he found it with women and yet here you were, making it worse for him. But you couldn't lie.

"No it's not that," you reassure him, squeezing his hand, "you told me you weren't in a position for this."

"I know-"

"And to be honest Alex, I'm not sure that I am," you cringe as the words come out, having just fucked him and kissed his lips red raw at his own flat, it was contradictory and you knew it.

Alex shuffled a bit further away, more to grant you space than to scold you but you felt the heat of the moment dissipate and be replaced with that familiar gruelling tension.

"We work together-"

"But that doesn't have to be a problem," he argued, voice soft, hand still gripping yours like he was trying to convince you through the strength of his touch. And it could work, you both know that.

"It's not just that...."

Realisation flashes across his face, you quite literally see it dawn on him. Your heart races with guilt, your skin prickling with it and you try to remain neutral but you already feel close to tears before the conversation has barely begun.

"You aren't comfortable with Noelle," he states it, looking away from you with a hand trawling through his hair, regret lingering in his eyes.

"I don't know, I've never...." you huff, words failing you as you try to get this across without ruining his faith in women entirely, "....I don't know how to deal with that."

"Yeah it's....I get that," Alex completely removes his touch from you now.

"I find it weird being around your ex-"

"She's not me ex," Alex stands quickly, his voice sharp and it immediately silences you. Shocked, you sink into the cushions like you mean for them to swallow you whole.

"She's not anything to me like that," he says, hands on hips as if he's giving you a right telling off, you nod wordlessly but he's in his own head now, "it was an accident. And fuck....I'm glad its happened because I love Noelle, of course but....it wasn't on purpose."

"I know that-"

"No you don't," he holds a finger up to you, eyebrows and dark eyes blending into one angry, intimidating sight, "she's never been anything like that to me-"

"Alex you fucked her, didn't you?" you snap back, annoyed by how he's taking his frustrations out on you.

His hand trawls through his hair and he winces, like the reminder of how this situation came to be pains him somehow.

"Yes well....that's nothing is it, people fuck," he shrugs but he sounds uncertain of himself. Sighing, he looks up to the ceiling, blinking at the cracked paint, looking for something he's not going to find.

"I'm sorry, I just....I don't want to lie to you and say I'm completely comfortable with it. I've always been....with people that are child free, I just....I wouldn't know how to, balance that."

He nods, releasing his hands from his hips and his head back into place.

"Okay."

"I'm sorry Alex."

"It's fine," he says, too quickly for it to be true. You open your mouth to speak but he shakes his head, silencing you without even a word, "I'll see you out."

"Alex...."

He stood, hands on his hips again staring out the window to the nothing beyond it. It was dark, only the skeleton of a tree was visible, and yet you'd think there was some hidden magical wonderland in his line of vision that you were ignorant to, with how taken he was.

Even though he'd said those words, he didn't walk you to the door and you didn't attempt to leave. Instead you walked over to him, watching the way he nibbled at his lips and avoided your eyes at all costs, like he couldn't bear to see the rejection in you.

"Alex...." you reached him, your hands splaying out on each of his cheeks. You felt his breath quicken against your fingers and the muscles in his cheeks twitch, but other than that he gave no indication that he was aware of you.

"I like you too."

His eyes fluttered closed, a subtle shake of the head indicating that he didn't want to hear it. But you refused to leave here having him think he wasn't worth getting to know that lifestyle for. It wasn't that. It was your own self-doubt about how tolerant you could be, how you could rein in your jealousy, how you could accept to always be second best, that stalled you from jumping into this. Not him, not at all.

"It's not about you-"

"Noelle is a part of me," he snapped, pushing your hands off his face. You nearly stumbled from the force, but it wasn't violent, just a spurt of energy. He steadied you nonetheless, eyes growing apologetic.

"Which is what I find hard to....relate to."

"And that's fine," he nods again, "but just....don't make it about Joanna like she's the problem. We've never had any romantic feelings for each other."

"Okay."

You stood back, a little irked by his protection for something you weren't even criticising him over.

"Okay," he said back, equally annoyed.

The two of you stood like bratty teenagers, eyes fixed to the floor beneath your feet. You didn't want to leave, he didn't want you to go. But there was no going forward after what you'd just admitted. How could you just continue like those words hadn't tainted anything?

"You said you weren't ready either."

"I didn't expect to feel this way," his voice was strained, he was still torturing his hair, fingers trawling through the thick strands searching for some peace that was nowhere to be found, "about you. Not so soon, anyway."

"Neither," you admit, glad you're at least in the same boat about that. Alex's eyes flicker up to you, catching on yours with some kind of hunger simmering beneath them, but you gauge that it's not sexual, more so just the desire for you to be his. To want to be his.

"So, what now?" Alex wonders.

"You, kicking me out," you can't help but chuckle, your lips curling at the sides and Alex, try as he might to remain serious, quickly follows suit. The tension dissipates with your laughter, soon enough it's like nothing has happened at all.

You both sit back down, you grab your now lukewarm tea and Alex grabs the remote, chucking on some reruns of an old show you both admit to loving. For a while, you sit in that comfort. A tv buzzing, teas at hand, the cushions swallowing your outline until you can barely be arsed to move.

But you can sense Alex is still thinking about it all, you can practically hear his mind buzzing but you won't know what until he realises how to conduct it. You might never know what, if he doesn't conduct it at all. He’s not the type of man to speak without meaning to. You watch him silently, sipping on your tea as you do so.

His side profile is more stark even than his front, with his sharp edged nose, dark lashes, high cheekbones and prominent jaw, you could barely pull your gaze away from him even if you wanted to. He was perfect, like he'd been carefully sculpted with an angle grinder to ensure every little detail, every crevice of him made sense - looked right, even if not conventionally perfect.

"You know...." he caught you off guard when he turned to you, sudden enough for you to jump and be caught staring, your cheeks glowing a dusty rose, "being with someone is really different to having a kid with them."

"I'm sure...."

"It's something I wouldn't have thought about, before," he admits, angling himself towards you. You take the step to reach out and pause the TV, wanting for him to indulge, to tell you what's racing through that busy, busy mind.

"I always thought that when you had a kid with someone, you were bound to love them," he said, swallowing a gulp of his tea as if he was letting his words linger and settle before he said anymore; you watched him tentatively, awaiting his next move like he was the most interesting part in a play.

"Maybe it was because me own parents were so in love, you know? Me whole life, never any troubles," he said, "they're still together now. Same house as when I were young. Never gotten bored or owt."

"But then when Joanna told me she was pregnant, there was no....I just didn't feel that way about her. No matter how hard I tried, and it was the same for her with me."

"Sometimes kids happen, as long as they have two present parents, the love part isn't relevant," you offer and he hums in agreement.

"I was so naive," he laughs, though it's bitter, unamused, "always thought the day I had a baby it would be the woman I loved most in the world. At first it was really hard to navigate having a kid with Joanna, no one tells you how to raise a kid when you were never with their other parent, do they?"

"It seems to me like you're both doing a good job," you state, catching his attention, eyes lingering on yours as if he's trying to figure out whether you - childless, scared of them all together - is worth believing, "I guess the silver lining is that you both felt the same. It would make the process easier than if there was one of you who felt more than the other."

"Mhm," he nodded, seeming content enough with your words.

"Have you ever....been with anyone since she's been born?"

Alex stifles, hanging his head suddenly. You gauge that perhaps there was someone, someone ill fitting for the situation. Someone who scared him off. But he just nods his head and you don't press him any further.

"I guess what I'm trying to say," he clears his throat, looking into your eyes with that familiar burning intensity that ties a string around your heart and robs it from your chest in the blink of an eye, "is that I understand your reservations. I probably would feel the same, in your shoes."

"Friends?" you hold a hand out for him to shake, ignoring the bemused smile on his lips contradicting the sadness in his eyes. He holds his hand out to you, his touch electric enough to prove your words wrong. The spark between you is no less dulled, but for now you both ignore it.

"Friends."

#alex turner fanfic #alex turner smut #alex turner x fem!reader #alex turner x reader #alex turner x you

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error-dark · 3 days ago

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Helluva Boss Sinsmas Spoilers!!!

So much to talk about. I am absolutely feral right now. Even with a bit of time to process everything, I'm still not okay (in the best way possible).

Blitz, giving Stolas lots of horse plushies to cuddle with, cooking Stolas food, helping him with shopping, laundry, getting food and clothes, hell EVEN FUCKING ROBBING stores for Stolas! He's giving Stolas everything he needs right now!!

Not to mention this!!!!

HE HIRED STOLAS!!!!

I also noticed there were a lot of Season 1 parallels. For example:

There were even parallels to "You Will Be Okay" within Octavia's solo, "I Will Be Okay". (Actually, now that I think about it, it might be the revise version/Octavia version of "You Will Be Okay".

Speaking of Octavia...

I made a theory post some time ago about the possibility of her coming in to save her dad.

I WAS FUCKING RIGHT!!!!

Also, I love this anime/manga effect that they chose to do. I was not expecting that and I LOVED IT!!

It is bittersweet, really. She still saved him (and Blitz), obviously deep down she still cares and loves her dad. She's still hurt and disappointed that, in her eyes, he left her for Blitz. I mean, she's not wrong. That's technically what happened, even though we all knew that Blitz would've died if it weren't for Stolas. But she's disappointed that he broke his promise. She has every right to be upset right now.

I know Stolas did everything he could to protect Octavia, to avoid giving her the similar trauma that he went through as a kid. But even then, I feel like some of this complicated stuff could be avoided if he had just told her the truth. Even though it's a hard pill to swallow, Octavia still needs to know the truth about everything.

And yes, I know that Stolas tried to tell her at the end, but at that point, it was technically too late. Octavia is not gonna hear him out right now or any time soon. And that hurts, for both of them.

Perhaps one day, Octavia will learn what's really going on behind the scenes. Perhaps she'll understand better why Stolas acted the way he did, and why he did all of those things. She doesn't have to forgive him right away (though, she could forgive him much later on if she wants to). But I still have a strong feeling, despite everything, deep down, she still loves her dad, even if everything's complicated right now.

Moving on...

MILLIE'S PREGNAT!!!! AHHHHH!!!!

She even called up Sallie May for advice!!! She's worried about how Moxxie would react!!

Honestly, I'm highly sure Moxxie would still love Millie and support her. I really hope he'd be happy with having a child (or children if they end up being twins or triplets). Maybe he'd also be worried about ending up like his shitty father, in which Millie would reassure him that he is NOTHING like his father and never will be.

And of course, Blitz would try to give them Parenting 101 Lessons on What To Do and What NOT To Do. Maybe Stolas would also try to help them out as well, but I feel like he'd get very emotional, because it'd remind him of his daughter.

One bonus thing I wanna mention real quick: Loona's still calling Blitz "Dad".

Alright this post is way too fucking long. I'm so sorry but there's too much to talk about and point out. And I'm sure there's a lot more to talk about, like Blitz and Stolas acting like an actual couple. But I'm gonna leave it here.

Anyway... how are y'all feeling about the Season 2 Finale?

#Helluva Boss #Helluva boss spoilers #helluva boss rant #helluva boss season 2 #helluva boss sinsmas #sinsmas #helluva boss blitz #stolitz #stolas #octavia #helluva millie #helluva moxxie #i am not okay #i am feral #i love this episode so much

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baji-sideblog · 23 hours ago

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Fairytale Yans

A warlock’s beginning

•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅••⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅••⑅♡⑅•⑅

Argon Velver was an esteemed warlock known for his innovations in spell crafting and being the founder of transfiguration magic. When his spouse gave birth to their first son Argon knew he wanted him to live up to his legacy to surpass it even. For him he knew the support of his childhood love turned spouse Mercury helped a lot with his journey.

So he decided to give his son a love of his own to help him blossom into a powerful warlock. Casting a spell he looked at his son’s soul to figure out who may be fit for him. After hours of searching he found you a recently born child around his son’s age from a humble family. Argon judged you’d be a good fit for his son a perfect one even.

He knocked on your parents’ door introducing himself and made them a proposition. To let them bound you to his son Mangus so their paths always cross and in exchange he’ll pay them handsomely in gold. Your parents were luckily for him weak to the offer a well respected rich warlock asking to just have their child basically be friends with his. It was too good to pass up especially since with the money they could take care of the family for a long time without worry.

Plus not like he could link you and Mangus as soulmates for magic that strong was out of all warlocks, witches, and wizards’ abilities. To them they figured you still had a way out if the two of you didn’t get along.

•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅••⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅••⑅♡⑅•⑅

Months later after they took the deal Argon and Mercury appeared at their door holding baby Magnus so he could meet baby you. Magnus instantly clicked and cling to you while you just didn’t do much being a baby.

As the two of you grew up and meet up occasionally you didn’t really care for Mangus his hot temper and bratty personality was not fun to deal with. Especially when you were trying to make friends since Mangus didn’t allow it at all. He showed off his magic to you trying to impress you. He even started learning advanced magic at a young age to get your attention since his usual spells and tricks weren’t working.

No matter what he tried as the years went on you never seem to look his way it hurt him a lot. He became so strong just to get your attention, but quick strength has its downsides. Because of how strong he got so fast out of desperation to impress you he had to get hundreds of tattoos of spell symbols and words into his skin to help control his magic. Since Magnus being a still young warlock at the age of 22 his magic was still very liable to act out due to his emotions.

One day when you two met up in private he started to lash out a bit in anger asking you, begging you to look his way to notice the effort he put in for you. But when you retort how you didn’t like him and how he butted his way into your life kicking out your friends and anyone you reached out to making you lonely. Mangus snapped out of anger and pain blanking out. When he gained back his awareness he realized what he had done, he had cursed you to turn into a swan whenever the sun was up.

At first he was shocked at what he did, but once he calmed down he didn’t feel bad at all. To him it felt like you deserved it for constantly ignoring him. Mangus made things very clear to you as you stood in your swan form for the first time.

“This is what happens when you defy me. Now birdie if you want me to undo the curse you’ll have to marry me if you refuse well I’ll just make you a swan permanently. And I’ll keep you locked up in a little cage alone forever. So be good and make the right choice, I’m tired of being nice to an ungrateful brat.”

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#yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere x reader #baji rambles #mangus the warlock #yancore #fairytale yans

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evans23 · 2 days ago

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RICKMAS 2024 - DAY 22 - SHIVERING CERTAINTY [E2]

Pairing : Colonel Brandon x OC (Marie)

Summary : And if, finally, love could blossoms in the most unusual way ? And if, finally, Christopher didn’t really sacrifice himself ? And if, finally, both of them get exactly what they deserve ?

Tag(s)/Warning(s) : Sadness. Loneliness. Abandon. Rumours. Harsh mother. Unwanted pregnancy.

WRONGFUL PERCEPTION : Part I