#then i pull off a line that makes me happy and i'm like 'wow this is the greatest hobby ever'

[strawhattery]

this october i'm setting a writing goal of 1 scene per day for my zsz bang fic. i've got 16ish scenes left, so if i stay on track i'll have lots of time for edits before november when the fics start to be published ☺️

based on the bang's targeted publishing dates, y'all should have new fic from me in less than 6 weeks! i hope you're as excited as i am!

[mypoisonedvine]

"𝙄 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙝𝙞𝙢 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙄'𝙢 𝙜𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙙𝙤 𝙩𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪." | dark!jackson rippner x reader

(I'm sorry but also no I'm not because wes craven knew exactly what he was doing when he put that line in the movie... he fucking knew...)

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 | after following you for weeks as part of his job, jackson got a few ideas in his head about making you his, but finding out you had a boyfriend meant he needed to change his approach.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 | just under 9k (wow what the actual fuck)

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 | DARK NONCON SMUT (18+ only, don't keep reading if you're not physically or emotionally mature enough to manage your own content consumption please and thank you), knife kink, stalking, forced exhibitionism, forced infidelity, humiliation, vaginal and anal sex (whoops), pain kink/painal, ass to pussy (god this fic is disgusting lmao), hair pulling, brief breeding kink/forced breeding, some angst but really it's just filth

once again, this is a dark character being dark and I don't wanna hear y'all acting brand new about it so no hate please. that said, if you do enjoy this (which I very much hope you do) please consider reblogging to support my work :) comments are especially appreciated and literally make me so so happy!!

Following you was just part of the job— and Jackson did not like his job mixing with his personal life.

The problem was, he hadn’t had much of a personal life lately.  No time for it; one or two hook-ups, women he met in bars, but that’s it.  And believe it or not, he wanted more than that.  Nobody would accuse Jackson of being sentimental— not really an attitude you can have when you organize illegal weapons sales and political assassinations— but he wasn’t made of stone.  He wanted to be able to share at least part of his life with someone… or, you know, have a nice set of legs waiting for him at home that he could get between every night.  Either, or both, would do.

It was an unfortunate coincidence that his realization that he wanted a girlfriend, or at the very least a plaything of his own, came right around the same time that he started to follow you.  He was only doing it to pick up on your habits, figure out a way to get to you so he could blackmail you into being his inside man for his next job.  It was supposed to be pretty simple: you were a museum events coordinator in charge of an upcoming lecture series which would feature a speech from a Bolivian presidential candidate who was unfortunately unfriendly to cartels.  The American government not only endorsed him, but had him under incredibly tight security.  This speaking event was going to be a rare chance to get to him in a public space without metal detectors, and Jackson was being compensated generously to ensure your museum would let a few extra attendees in the back.

But see, the Bolivian presidential election was the last thing on Jackson’s mind as he watched you through your window.  His eyes drifted all over you, mesmerized by the way you prepared yourself for your day— styling your hair in the mirror, smoothing the wrinkles in your white button-up, pulling those stockings up your thighs…

He caught himself biting his lip and shook it off, straightening up in the driver’s seat of his car; he knew he should probably leave then, beat you to your work and then wander into the museum to feign interest in a few artifacts before striking up a conversation.  But he loitered a bit longer, letting himself imagine how quickly he could rip off those clothes you were so thoughtfully dressing yourself with.

Eventually, he managed to pull his attention away from you and start the car, sighing as he tried to remember his plan of attack for ‘accidentally’ meeting you later today.

~

The museum might’ve been interesting, if he wasn’t so distracted by you.  He was loitering, hands in his pockets, pretending to look at the paintings and artifacts as he waited for you to be near enough to strike up an innocuous conversation with.  Early in the day, he saw you give a tour to a couple considering the museum for a wedding location, but kept his distance— it could be a while before you were available and he didn't want you to notice him yet, or he'd have to justify having been in the museum all day by himself.

For the first time since he’d started this job, Jackson felt slightly nervous to speak to you.  It was always a big step, going from following someone to actually approaching them, but usually it didn’t give him any specific emotional reaction.  Sure, he might feel a certain amount of pressure to do this correctly lest he blow the whole thing by tipping off his target, but he never was worried something would go wrong.  This time, though, he felt his heart picking up every time he glanced at you from across the museum, closer to you than he’d ever been.  His palms were even a bit clammy when he saw you walk by and realized this was the moment he needed to strike.  God, did he really have a crush?  How pathetic… but he couldn’t worry about that now, he was about to lose his chance as you brushed by him quickly.

"Miss?" he got your attention, gently touching your shoulder through your shirt as you passed by; you seemed a little startled by the physicality, yes, but not exactly offended.

"Oh, um— can I help you?" you said.  He’d heard you speak before, on the wiretap and all, but it was a little different in person like this— and directed at him.

"I was gonna ask you about this sculpture, if you didn't mind," he explained with a gentle smile.

"Oh, well, one of our dosants would love to talk to you about our collection—" you began, starting to look for the closest staff member designated to help him, but he interrupted.

"So, you don't know anything about the stuff here?"

Your attention moved back to him and you smiled to hide your obvious defensiveness. "No, I do," you assured, "I actually am uniquely equipped to tell you about this sculpture: I studied Incan art specifically during my master's program."

He gave his best 'quietly impressed' face and nodded; he knew he could get you with that, you had kind of a know-it-all thing going on, which he happened to find annoyingly attractive.  "Alright, then tell me about it," he challenged.

"Well," you sighed, crossing your arms as you looked at the piece, "we got this one a few years ago, it's actually a ceremonial vessel— there’s the llama head and the bird on this side here, those were both animals with a lot of cultural significance…”

As you pointed out elements of the vessel, he leaned in ostensibly to look at where you were gesturing— but it was all an excuse to get close to you, warm you up to him.

“They would’ve used this to pour essentially a form of beer on the ground,” you continued, “in hopes of increasing the strength of the crops and fertility."

"Fascinating," he smiled at you, and you didn’t back away when he stood closer.  Like fish in a barrel.  "How old is it?"

"It's estimated to be about four or five hundred years old,” you explained.

"Wow," he nodded, looking at the stone carving behind the glass again.  "It's interesting to me that humans have always made art— and always been superstitious.  Though I have to be honest, if I was living before the invention of birth control I don't think I'd be praying for fertility."

You smirked a little, and he hoped he hadn't gone too far— but it was fun to look at you and know what you must be thinking about.  He could only hope that you were thinking about it with him in mind.

“Jackson, by the way,” he introduced himself, “my name’s Jackson.  It feels unfair that you’ve gotta wear the nametag and I get to be anonymous.”

You laughed a little, glancing down at the silver nametag on your blazer and then back up at him.  “Fair enough; welcome to our museum, Jackson.”

“So, wait,” he tilted his head, “forgive the late reaction here, but— if you’ve got a master’s degree of that caliber, how’d you end up as an event planner?”

“Well, believe it or not, the position does require historical knowledge,” you explained.  “I started in curation, though— just moved to events because I was too cooped up in the back offices… I like meeting new people.”

Although Jackson would never consider himself particularly empathetic, he did think he had a decent sense of people— specifically, when they were lying.  And that felt like a lie— a white lie, maybe, but still.  A lie you were telling yourself most of all, that this was what you wanted to do.  And it wasn’t that he really thought you disliked your job, moreso that his two weeks of following you did not indicate you harbored a strong desire to meet new people.  You were a total homebody: rejecting offers to go out for drinks or dinner from friends and coworkers, staying up late watching TV instead of hitting the town or something, shrinking into your room every night and staying there until it was time to go to work again.  He’d only seen you leave your house once that first weekend, and it was to pick up groceries— that’s it.  No hot date, no concerts… almost no social life at all.  Either you stayed late at the museum, or you went home.

And he also found that annoyingly attractive.  Jackson, after all, was a workaholic himself; he imagined he would go out and do fun things, if he had the time, but right now nothing sounded better than going home and cuddling up with a sweet girl like you, being lazy couch potatoes together, resting after a long day of espionage, cyberterrorism, actual terrorism, and whatever else his work day got him up to.

….Jesus, when did he get so goddamn sentimental?!

“It certainly seems like a unique job,” Jackson replied. 

“Every day’s a little different,” you agreed.

“Sounds like my job,” he snorted, “but I don’t work with other people much— I think it would be more entertaining with other people around.  Especially when they can tell me everything there is to know about Incan art.”

“Okay, I don’t know everything,” you backpedaled, not seeming to really notice the larger sentiment of his statement, “but I can certainly hold my own.  I like to think we all have something we know a little too much about, and could ramble for ages about.”

“Yeah, I hope so, or we’re just weirdos,” he chuckled.  “For me it’s probably cocktails.  I’m not an alcoholic or anything— I actually don’t drink that much, just socially, you know— but I have this thing where I can guess anybody’s favorite drink order.”

“Oh?” you raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” he smirked, “but hold on, I can’t guess yours until I really get the vibes.”

“Oh,” you nodded, “yeah— vibes, sure.”

“Hmm,” he pondered, narrowing his eyes as he looked you up and down, biting his lip like he was really thinking about it.

Here was the hard part: he really hadn’t seen you go out for drinks this whole time, so he was actually going to have to guess.  Of course, the fun part of this game was not actually getting it right— if anything, it worked better when he got corrected.  All he really needed was to get you alone long enough to tell you who he really was, what he needed from you, and how he was going to motivate you to do it… but if he could actually seduce you first, that would be a hell of a bonus.

“I’m thinking something a little sweet, not too fruity though,” he thought aloud, “something classic— you have an old soul, I think.”

You seemed to be a little surprised by that analysis, but he figured that meant he was mostly right.

“Your cocktail of choice is, obviously, a sidecar,” he announced.

For a second, he thought he might have got it from the way you smiled, but then you started to laugh.  “You were on the right track,” you admitted.

“Damn,” he snapped his fingers in playful frustration.  After a pause, he realized, “you’re not gonna tell me?”

“I figured I’d give you another guess,” you explained.

“Or,” Jackson countered, “I could take you out tonight, and you could show me yourself.  Your drink order, I mean.”

Alright, that was forward, but he figured he’d been doing well so far.  Instead, though, you tensed up a bit, causing Jackson to knit his eyebrows together for a moment.  “I would, really, but, I have plans tonight… with my boyfriend,” you said.

He swallowed behind a barely-suppressed frown.  Following you for all this time and he hadn’t noticed any boyfriend; were you lying just to get him to back off?  You’d seemed so flattered before.  “Oh?” Jackson tried to get out in his most neutral voice.  “That’s great— is he taking you somewhere nice?

“Even better,” you blinked quickly, a shy smile lifting your face.  “He works here at the museum, but he’s been gone almost an entire month to pick up some artifacts from around Eastern Europe… hasn’t even been able to use a phone out there.  So he’s promised to come over and give me a first look at everything he got, and apparently he’s brought something just for me, so…”

“That’s sweet,” Jackson replied, willing his nostrils not to twitch.  “Nice to know he was thinking of you all the way over there.  I travel a lot for my work, actually, and it’s… hard to find somebody loyal these days.”

You nodded in agreement, sighing slightly.  “Yeah, it is.”

“I mean, gone for a month, no communication, no reminders of you— just out there surrounded by opportunities and nothing keeping him from them,” Jackson went on.  “That’s a lot to get through without at least one drunken encounter.”

You furrowed your brow, looking at him with a sort of grimace.  “I… I guess,” you mumbled in reply.  “I do have a lot of work to get done so I think I’ll just let you explore,” you decided.

“What if I have more questions about the pieces?” he asked.

“Try reading the little plaque underneath it,” you suggested flatly, already turning and walking away.

Jackson watched to leave for a second before scoffing to himself.  Bitch.  But it didn’t make a difference anyways: one way or another, he was going to get to you— for the sake of the job, of course.  Although this boyfriend character was certainly a spanner in the works of his secondary plan to get you in bed, Jackson had to admit that he was ultimately an advantage for his actual purpose with you: an attachment, something he could exploit to get what he wanted.  Do what I say, or he gets hurt.

Of course, he knew he should use that to make you be his inside man for that stupid lecture series— he wasn’t going to get the second half of his payoff until the cartel had their chance to make an example out of the visiting politician.  But, as a small smile crept over his face while he walked out of the museum, he realized that he could use his leverage for so much more than that.

~

The door was unlocked when you got home; beaming, you realized it meant that your boyfriend beat you here, and was likely waiting for you just around the corner.

“Babe?” you called out, shutting the door behind you and shirking your purse and blazer to set down on the wooden credenza.

And yes, he was waiting for you around the corner alright, but you gasped in shock and felt your stomach sink when you saw him.  He was bound to a chair with zipties, restrained at his wrists and ankles with tape over his mouth, looking a bit roughed up and absolutely terrified.

“Oh my god!” you gasped, running to him, but he oddly seemed to pull away from you as much as he could when you tried to break one of the ties.  “What the fuck, what’s— oh my god, are you—?” you rushed, not even knowing where to start and just focusing on freeing him.  But he just kept letting out muffled grunts and shaking his head— like he didn’t want you to keep going.  Of course, you’d been so shocked by it that you hadn’t even considered why he looked so scared, why he seemed to want you to get away from him: whoever did this was still in the house.

It seemed obvious in retrospect, but it was too late now; you screamed when someone grabbed you, but the sound was muted by a hand over your mouth.  “Shh,” a voice beside your ear soothed as a blade pressed to your neck.  “Nobody’s going to get hurt if you behave.”

Your boyfriend hung his head defeatedly, and you thought you heard the sound of him crying though it was hard to tell.

“You missed him quite a lot, didn’t you?” the man asked, and you wrinkled your brows together as you wondered how he could’ve known that he was gone for a while.  “Left you all alone here, poor thing— probably got all worked up, lonely, needy… like three nights ago, when I saw you through your bedroom window, touching yourself."

Your face burned with humiliation— not even that he saw you doing that, really, but just knowing he'd been watching you for god-knows how long.  That made you feel more violated than anything.

“Wanted to help you so bad,” he purred, “but I had to wait.  I’m not waiting anymore— you’ve got me feeling pretty fucking impatient these days.”

You kept thinking about what you could do to get him away from you— his feet were just behind yours, you could stomp on his shoe and hope it hurt enough to distract him, or maybe you could wrench your elbow back into his side— but with the knife at your throat, you were afraid that he’d be faster than you if you tried anything.  “Please just— don’t hurt me, please,” you begged, whimpering a little, not sure what else to say at a time like this.

“Oh, honey,” he cooed, “you sound so sweet when you’re scared.”

It was the way he said that word: sweet.  It reminded you of before, something you’d done your best to forget about all day.  Something a little sweet, not too fruity— that weird guy at the museum, he’d said it just like that.  “Oh my god,” you breathed, “it’s— it’s you.”

“You remember my name, don’t you?” he smiled.

“Jackson,” you recalled, “you— oh my god—”

“I’m sure you’re a little relieved,” he chuckled, addressing your boyfriend with a grin as you turned your head enough to look up at his semi-familiar face.  “She was so into me when we met today at the museum,” Jackson informed him proudly.  “You wanted me to fuck you then, didn’t you, baby?”

“No I fucking di—” you began to deny with a sneer, but he quieted you with a finger over your mouth— of course, a finger from the hand still holding the knife, to remind you exactly why you should stop talking.

“Now, try anything, I might just have to hurt you— or, better yet, your shitstain boyfriend over there,” Jackson warned.  “I’m just waiting for an excuse to break a few of his fingers.  Don’t give me one.”

Swallowing, you shut your eyes for a longer moment— you couldn’t believe this was actually happening, like one of those horrific news articles you read before bed just to torture yourself.  Like one of those horror movies guys think are campy and fun but give you the most awful sick feeling because that could really happen.  And now it was really happening, and your first thought was somehow to wonder what you did wrong to let this happen.

“So, are you gonna be a good girl for me?” he asked, tilting his head down to look at you questioningly.

You nodded, but he wasn’t satisfied.

“Say it.”

“Yes,” you answered quickly, and he snarled with frustration.

“No, baby, say it like I said it,” he insisted, his tone a warning not to test him again.

“I’m gonna be… I’m gonna be a good girl…” you choked out.

“Whose good girl?” he taunted, and you groaned as you shut your eyes, feeling him pull you closer to him and press his face close to yours.

“Yours!  Your good girl,” you spat out, breath picking up as you heard him purr against your cheek.  “Jackson— please, you don’t… you don’t have to do this.  Please don’t do this.”

You shivered as the knife pressed against you again and moved from your neck down to your shirt, gently slicing off the top button and exposing a little more of your chest.  “Mm, but I want to,” he explained, “wanted you since I first saw you.”

You hated the realization that he likely first saw you quite some time ago, before you ever knew he existed, and that he’d been waiting for this ever since then.

“I think it turns you on, knowing I can do whatever I want to you,” he presumed, cutting off a second button from your shirt.

“Please just go,” you begged, starting to properly cry as his teeth grazed your neck.  “You’re right— you can do whatever you want.  I can’t stop you.  Isn’t that what you wanted to prove?  Just… just don’t make me—”

“Make you?” he repeated.  “No, no— you wanted me.  I could tell.  Only thing stopping you was him.”

He pointed towards your boyfriend with the knife in his hand, who looked devastated and horrified to say the least.

“You could do better, by the way,” Jackson informed you.  “You should be with somebody who can really treat you right.”

Another button fell to the floor; your bra was visible now, baby pink lace, and your nipples hardened from the cool air on your skin— that, and the way Jackson’s breath fanned across the nape of your neck.  

“Are you getting wet for me, baby?” he whispered to you as his knife trailed delicately over your skin, tracing the curve of your breasts.  “Think it’s time for me to finally give you what you need?”

You took a deep, but shaky, breath as you tried to put on a brave face and brace for what was to come.  “My… my bedroom is upstairs,” you whispered, and Jackson laughed in a way that made your skin crawl.

“Oh, eager already,” he taunted.

“I just wanna get this over with,” you insisted.

“Sure,” he said facetiously with a mischievous smirk and a wink to match; you felt like you were gonna be sick.  “But bedrooms are a little, you know… basic?  That’s probably what you’re used to, real traditional stuff: missionary, in the bed, in the dark, for a few minutes on weekends only.  That’s the vibe I’m getting, at least.  You’re not used to being with somebody romantic— you know, spontaneous.”

He turned you around to face him, making you yelp a little as he spoke by your ear.  

“Somebody who just has to have you; right here, right now,” he cooed, running his tongue along the outside of your ear before suddenly kissing roughly along your neck.

“N-no, please,” you begged, imagining the humiliation you were in store for if he really did fuck you on your living room floor in front of the man you loved.  “Please, I— I said I’ll be good for you, just— take me to my room, please.”

"No, baby,” Jackson purred as he held your chin, “let’s show your little boyfriend here what you look like when a real man fucks you, huh?"

Whining, you jerked your arms forward to try to break away, but it only ensured the bruises his fingers would leave on your skin.

A second later, you were shoved to the ground, and he was on top of you wearing a wide grin.  You could hear your boyfriend kicking and screaming in the corner, but your attention was more focused on Jackson starting to open his belt.  

"Fuck! Get the fuck off of me!" you yelped, kicking and shoving as hard as you could and finding each one more helpless than the last. "You— you fucking piece of shit!"

He smacked you across the face only to pull it back harshly by the jaw, glaring into your eyes. "Better be careful with that dirty mouth," he warned, shoving two fingers between your lips until you gagged on them. "Don't need to wash that out with soap, do we?"

As you choked, you shook your head, hoping it would be enough of an apology to get you some air.

"How about come?" he joked, making you gag for more than one reason, and he laughed at the tears that rolled down your temples.

He took his fingers out of your mouth and reached down to his fly again, letting out a small satisfied sigh as he freed himself.  You sobbed a little when you accidentally caught a glimpse of his erection in his hand; he grunted when you tried to push him off again, and responded by grabbing both your wrists and pinning them down above your head.  He hummed as he stroked himself a bit, looking down at you trapped under him.

“Thought you said you were gonna be good for me,” he recalled, chuckling when you bit your shaking lip.  “You sure you don’t need me to hurt Romeo over there, give you a little motivation?”

You shook your head.  “No— I’m sorry, I’ll do what you say.  Don’t hurt him.”

“Open your legs,” he ordered.  

Hesitantly, you lifted your legs up a bit and spread them, cringing at the happy groan you heard when your skirt started to roll up your thighs.  

“Don’t move your hands,” he warned before he let go of them, leaning back and looking down at you: spread out under him, his for the taking.

He snapped off the last few buttons of your shirt, humming when your torso was exposed further.  His hand started at your neck and ran down to grope your chest through the lacy bra; he purred, pinching your hardened nipples until you were forced to react.

Pulling it down, he took a quick breath at the sight of your bare tits— his chest rising and falling— and he set his knife aside to knead them both with a hum.  "Been thinking about these for a while…" he mumbled.  You gasped when he leaned down and captured a nipple in his mouth, suckling with a wide mouth as you scrunched your nose and looked away.  Still, it made your insides pulse when he swirled his tongue around, only to pop off a second later and move to the other.  "Damn," he breathed, leaning back again to move his attention lower.

Starting at your knees, he rubbed your legs carefully, moving a little higher every time until he was gripping needily at your thighs; his own breathing was a little faster as he did it.  

You hadn't exactly imagined how this would be, obviously, but you still were surprised at how long he was taking.  Was he just trying to build up the anticipation to scare you?  Or was it for his own benefit?

He was gentle for just a few seconds before suddenly flaring his nostrils and ripping your stockings open.  Through the new hole in the fabric, he rubbed your panties and you bit down on your tongue to avoid crying any harder.  

“Fuck,” he breathed, then laughed, as he pet your cunt through the lace— they matched your bra, of course.  Your boyfriend was coming back from a long trip, you’d wanted to do something nice for him… that idea backfired completely.  “All dressed up, matching and everything… you’re too good to me, babydoll.”

You were about to correct him, make sure both of them knew that this had nothing to do with Jackson, but your open mouth only let out a gasp when Jackson pulled your panties aside to touch you.

“Oh, baby,” he groaned when he slid two fingers between your lips.  “So wet.  Fuck.  When’d you get like that, huh?  Hmm, it was the knife, wasn’t it?”

He looked over at your boyfriend and gave him a terribly smug look while he slipped a finger inside your hole.

“Women like a sense of danger,” he informed the tied man flatly.  “But… I think your girl likes it even more than most.”

You flexed on his finger, turning his attention back to you, and he licked his lips as he slipped another finger in until you winced.

“That’s too much for you already, baby?” he noticed.  “Fuck, I might break you…”

He curled the fingers inside you, clearly trying to get you warmed up for him, and you shut your eyes tight in hopes your face wouldn’t show any reaction.  There was a sense of relief when he stopped and pulled his fingers out, but it didn’t last long since the next thing he did was grab your jaw and press those fingers to your lips. 

“Ever tasted yourself before?” he asked, and you tried to turn your face away but it was useless.  “Come on, it’s good, I’ll show you.”

He licked his own fingers first, moaning in satisfaction as he did it.

“Fuck, it’s sweet,” he promised.  “Now you try it.”

This time, when he put his fingers to your mouth, you opened it and let him push them inside.  He slid them over your tongue, watching you with dark eyes.

“Suck them,” he instructed you quietly, almost a whisper, and though your cheeks burned you wrapped your lips around his fingers and hollowed your cheeks.  “Mm, that’s it— see, you can be a good girl.  Knew you could.”

You were panting a little, for some reason, when he took his fingers away, leaving your mouth slack and wet.  He brought his hands down to his fly to finish freeing his cock, and you looked up, to the side, basically anywhere but at… that.

“Look at it,” he encouraged you, and you shook your head.  “Don’t you wanna see it before I put it inside you?”

You figured you could get him to shut up if you just did it, so you went ahead and took a glance down at his erection in his hand, only for a terrified whimper to catch in your throat.

“I can tell what you’re thinking,” he grinned.  “Trying to remember the last time you had a dick this big, right?”

Trying to figure out how that’s supposed to fit.

“Get on your hands and knees for me,” he demanded suddenly, sitting back enough to get you room to do it.

You hesitated, and he suddenly looked angry as he grabbed your wrist and yanked you up a bit until you yelped.

“Go on!  Hands and fucking knees, did I stutter?” he ordered, louder.

You were a little sore and weak all over, and it became even more apparent when you awkwardly got up off the floor; you avoided your boyfriend’s gaze as you took the position, opting to just stare down at the rug under you instead, suddenly fascinated by every detail in hopes it could somehow distract you from this.  From the feeling of him delicately pushing your skirt up over your ass and his hands all over you, from the way he pushed your knees apart with his own and settled between them, from the sick drop in your stomach as his cock’s head rubbed over your clit and lined up to your opening.  Yes, it sure was a riveting pattern on this rug alright…

But, of course, Jackson wouldn’t let you get through this that easily. “Beg for it,” you heard his firm voice from behind you.

“Jackson, come on, I—” you choked, “I— just—”

“It’s okay, babydoll, go on…” he egged you on, as if shyness was the reason you were hesitating.

“Please…” you began, shutting your eyes tightly.  “Please fuck me.”

You tried not to react too much when he pushed inside, but it was big, and he himself let out a husky groan at the feeling as he filled you.  You managed to stay silent at first, but a little squeak came out halfway through, and it turned into a loud sigh when he was all the way inside.  “Fuck,” he breathed, dropping his head back with a breathy laugh.  “Fuck, it’s tight.  Guess that’s what happens when nobody’s here to treat you right— and I don’t just mean because he was out of town.  I can tell nobody’s given you what you need in a long time…”

Before you could wonder what could possibly make him capable of telling that, he took a tight hold of your hips and began to fuck you— slower than you expected, but not quite delicate.

Shaking, you tried to keep yourself propped up on your wobbly arms as he set his pace, and tried to keep yourself quiet while he did this.  The last thing he needed was any more reasons to think you liked this.

Still, you couldn’t fight the whimper that came when he suddenly slammed himself into you, rougher than before; your thighs even quivered for a moment.  “Fuck,” you choked out, under your breath, and he hummed back at you as he sped up a little.

“Not too deep, is it?” he asked, though it didn’t seem like he was actually concerned for your well-being (obviously).  “Not used to anything this big, huh?”

You were afraid he was going to force you to answer that, but instead he surprised you by putting a hand between your shoulder blades and shoving you down; you gasped and grunted when your chest pressed to the floor, your face thankfully turned to the side against the rug— but unfortunately, it meant you were looking right at your boyfriend.  You had to shut your eyes, too ashamed that he was seeing you like this.

“There, you like that better?” he purred as he held your hips up against his, but the new angle only forced him deeper until you were choking on nothing with every thrust.  Your hands searched wildly along the floor for something to hold onto, but eventually just had to settle for gripping the rug for dear life.  “Mm, fuck, s’good— you feel so fucking good, baby…”

The compliment sent an unwilling shiver up your spine, and your back arched even deeper than he’d forced it to.  It was too much, it was all far too much, but your toes were curling inside your (ruined) pantyhose and you bit down on your lip without thinking about it.

“Oh, see how much she likes it?” Jackson grunted, apparently still addressing the captive boyfriend in the chair— you really wished he would just leave him out of this.  “Fuck, what a pretty little whore…”

Not only could he switch from sickly-sweet to rageful in a moment, but you realized that he could somehow seem to be both at once.  Still spitting out praises and insults all at one, he fucked you rougher and meaner as your moans— pain or pleasure, you couldn’t tell anymore and you didn’t want to— grew louder.  He kept getting more aggressive— harder and faster, harder and faster— until you were all but screaming and you couldn’t keep your hips up anymore.  Each thrust pushed you down until you were flat against the floor, but he kept fucking you and holding the back of your neck.  One thrust seemed to go too deep suddenly, and you yelped as you reached back to try to grab his thigh out of instinct.

“Shh, shh, s’okay, baby,” he assured with a hiss.  “Fuck.”

But he kept doing it, kept fucking you deep (if a little slower) as you whined and shook under him.  “Jackson,” you heard yourself breathe, “please— I-I can’t—”

“God,” he growled, “say my name again.  That’s so hot.”

You hadn’t meant it like that, but now it was too late.  “N-no,” you tried to deny, but that didn’t last long as he grabbed you by the hair and forced your head up, laying over you enough to speak right against your ear.

“Say. My fucking. Name,” he spat.

“Jackson,” you choked out against the strain on your throat from having your neck cranked back like this.  “Jackson, f-fuck—”

He groaned and dropped your head, propping himself up so he could fuck you faster again; his gaze moved down to where his body filled yours, where each thrust made your ass bounce under torn pantyhose…

As he slowed down for a moment, panting, you wondered if maybe it was almost over— maybe it already was, but that seemed too good to be true. He was still holding you down just as hard, anyway; he put his whole weight on your arms as he turned to look at your boyfriend tied up in the chair. 

"Does she do anal?" Jackson asked him point-blank.

Your struggle renewed as you screamed angrily— but you couldn't keep it up, it fell into a helpless sob a moment later. Your boyfriend didn't give much of an answer— couldn't, really, on account of the duct tape— just kicked around against his restraints again.

Jackson shrugged as he looked down at you crying under him. "Well, you do now," he decided, pulling out and spitting into his hand.

You’d never felt so helpless, laying there on the floor while he pushed his fat tip up to your puckered hole.  “Please,” you begged for mercy, but you didn’t even have the energy to lift your head from the rug and it was all muffled and pathetic.

“It’s really not that bad,” he insisted as he started to press forward, but your whole body jumped and you let out a loud whine when his head slipped inside with a sort of pop— all that pressure giving way to a sick, stinging stretch.

“Oh my god oh my god,” you whimpered, feeling goosebumps break out all over your body from the sharp pain.  “I can’t— please, I really can’t—”

“Shh, it’s okay, I’m gonna go real slow,” he promised under his breath, moaning loudly as he pushed in a little deeper.  Laying on the floor like this, there was really nowhere for you to go, no way to run from the feeling.  “Just breathe, long slow breaths— focus on staying relaxed.”

Frustratingly, it was actually pretty good advice; it certainly didn’t make it painless, but when you shut your eyes and thought as much about breathing and as little about anything else as you could, it helped.

“See?  Just relax, babydoll,” he whispered, but relaxing could only do so much as he slid the rest of the way in and you felt like your whole body might go numb.  Your eyes rolled back, your insides (all of them, it seemed) flexed, your heart was pounding… you felt sick, and disgusting, and used.

He breathed heavy as he laid his weight on top of you, slipping an arm under you to wrap around your shoulders and neck. 

"Fuck, that's a tight fuckin' ass," he grunted, laughing a little as he glanced at your boyfriend, slowly beginning to move again. "This one's got you spoiled, huh? How'd a loser like you get your hands on a perfect fucktoy like this?"

He bit down on the shell of your ear as he picked up his pace quickly— way too quickly— and soon he was growling each time he slammed his hips against your ass.  You couldn’t even tell what noises you were making anymore…

"But you're gonna be mine now," he whispered to you. "Oh fuck, s'all gonna be mine. Gonna fill these pretty holes of yours every fuckin' day."

You dropped your head down defeatedly onto the floor, though shocks of pain were still making your fingers and toes curl while he roughly fucked your other hole.

“Yeah, fuck, you fuckin’ like it,” he snarled as he fucked you faster.  “Needy little slut.  You like getting all your holes filled, huh?”

You simply bit down on your lip, not realizing it wasn't a rhetorical question.

"Answer me," he insisted.

"I-I don't like it," you said— quietly, because if you spoke any louder it would've been mostly unintelligible with sobs.

"Huh?" he taunted, leaning in closer.

"It hurts, Jackson," you choked, pleading.

“No?” he noticed, feigning shock with heavy sarcasm in his tone.  “Are you saying you don’t like it up the ass?”

“Please, please,” you choked out, “fuckin’ hurts— god, please, hurts—”

"You don't like it, sweetheart?" he cooed at you, cloying condescension dripping from every word as he roughly pet the hair out of your face. You whined and shook your head. "Well, I could always put it back in your cunt, would that make you feel better?"

He chuckled at your grimace of disgust.

"Is that too dirty for you?" he wondered, clicking his tongue.  "Aw, it's okay, just gonna give you what you wanted— hold still, baby."

You winced when he pulled out of your ass, only to whine as he slid back into your cunt; you hid your face, feeling how absurdly warm it had become from all this, and tried not to think about how dehumanizing what he had just done to you was.

He picked his pace right back up when he entered you, letting out a deep groan of satisfaction.  "Oh my god you're fucking dripping, is that from being fucked in your little ass?" he noticed. "Jesus Christ, wettest fucking pussy I ever had... somebody likes it dirty, hm?"

You wanted to deny it, but he wasn’t lying about your physical reaction; you were soaking, and you didn’t even know why.  It wasn’t like you found much pleasure in that experience physically, it was rather agonizing— and then there was the thought of it, of knowing you’d been used that way, and it just made you feel dizzy and weird.  Regardless, it was true… your body responded even when your mind was running in circles convincing itself there was nothing enjoyable about this.

“Such a pretty thing,” Jackson purred at you as he sped up again, shaking your whole body against the floor— that arm around your shoulders was the only thing keeping you from being pushed away, and he held you tightly like he really was worried you’d get away somehow, even though you’d stopped resisting quite a while ago.  

At least it didn’t hurt anymore— except that you were still a little sore, and he was holding you too tight and his weight made it hard to breathe, and you were probably going to get rug burn, and you felt disgusting.  But in a literal sense, it hurt less.

“Think I need to turn you over and get a good look at that pretty face,” he decided, pulling out of you and rolling you onto your back.  Maybe it was just because you knew it was only for a moment, but being empty wasn’t as much of a relief as you expected.  You were pretty much limp by this point, letting him turn you over and simply looking up at him blankly.  “Oh,” he said as he smiled proudly, “look how fucked out you look— and I’m not even done with you yet.”

Lifting your legs and pressing them against your chest, he slid back in until he was deeper than you thought possible, and you gasped and shivered helplessly.  “F-fuck, wait—“

He started to fuck into you quickly, and you nearly screamed, reaching down to try to hold his thigh or push him back or something to keep him from going so far inside you, but nothing deterred him.  For how drained you were a moment ago, the shock of this gave you renewed energy, and you hated feeling your walls bear down on him in sick, overwhelming pleasure.  “Oh god,” he moaned, “so fucking good.”

As hard as you were trying not to be loud, your efforts were lost when he reached down and roughly rubbed at your swollen clit; again, you tried to reach to stop him, holding onto his wrist and pushing his hand away with all your strength, but he bested you easily and kept going.  “Fuck!” you screamed.  “Please, please— it’s too much, I—”

“It’s okay, baby,” he soothed, watching proudly as your back arched and your head tilted back with a gasp.  

You hadn’t even realized you were building to an orgasm— you would’ve sworn you weren’t, before, but now you felt all sensitive and sticky, and his thumb on your clit was relentless, and the shivers that had been running all over you all evening were turning into hard, heavy jolts of— of something.  Something you’d been holding back longer than you realized.  Something you hadn’t felt in much, much longer than three weeks.

“It’s okay,” he kept encouraging you with a proud grin that turned into a growl through his teeth as he fucked you harder.  “Show him what it looks like when you’re not faking it, babydoll.  Show him who you really belong to now.”

“Please,” you cried, the word barely spoken and more just a shape you made around your cries.  If he didn’t stop now, you wouldn’t be able to, either; you were spasming uncontrollably, inside and out, it was just getting worse and worse (or better and better, depending on how you looked at it).

It felt fucking good.  You would die before you admitted it, but you didn’t have to— it was obvious.  And it was overtaking everything now, even your shame, until for one impossible moment, you were completely shameless.  You weren’t sure you had ever felt quite like that before— not just physically, but spiritually.  Shameless.  Even though all you’d felt until now was ashamed.  “Good girl,” Jackson praised you, though it was sort of lost on you as you were coming down from a high that hit you hard enough to not even feel real until it was nearly over.  

It was like time had slowed down, and then snapped back to superspeed, to hyperreality, when he finally pulled his hand away and let you have a small reprieve.  

"Fuck, I'm gonna come, oh my god," he gasped, his voice getting oddly high-pitched as he said it. "Want me to come inside, babydoll, or paint that pretty face?"

“Not… not inside,” you warned, just conscious enough to remember that.

“Mm?  Why not?” he smirked.

You were still blinking away the blurriness in your vision, panting, trying to process all that you’d just felt— so you really didn’t have any energy for stupid questions like that.  “What?” you just asked groggily.  “Why… why do you think?!”

He just laughed briefly— more like a hum— and kept going.  Of course, you should’ve known he’d do it once he realized your boyfriend didn’t; but wasn’t it enough that you and your boyfriend used condoms and Jackson had already gone past that?

“Just— just don’t,” you begged again, shut up with a firm hand over your mouth suddenly as he grunted lowly above you with each thrust.

“Fuck,” he said, a sort of warning though it wasn’t specific.  “Fuck!”

He bit his lip when it happened; you shut your eyes, not wanting to see his face all slack and flushed like that with his hair falling forward and his neck and jaw flexing.  But closing your eyes only made the feeling inside you more undeniable: the rush of warmth, the flexing against your walls as he pushed himself in as deep as he could.  You whimpered a little, though you weren’t sure it was audible to anyone but yourself, and Jackson sighed as he emptied himself into you.

He took his hand away with a deep breath, and all you did was let your mouth fall open and your eyes blink numbly— what else was there to do?

As he caught his breath, he laughed a little, very softly; he put his hands on the floor beside your head, propping himself up but letting his head hang down loosely for a second— he was still smiling.

“You’re… you’re really something else, you know that, babydoll?” he informed you.

You didn’t say anything, and he sighed again just before he pulled out— you both winced, for different reasons, and he took a moment to hold your legs open so he could look at what he’d done to you; you felt filthy and exposed like that, but you were too weak to try to stop him or even to close your legs.

“Now that’s just beautiful,” he decided in reaction to whatever he saw; you didn’t want to picture it, how stretched out and used up you must look, but you could feel his come oozing out, running down.

Some of the numbness was already wearing off, at least physically, and you were beginning to realize how purely un-ergonomic it was to get fucked on the floor.  Your back and shoulders were sore, your legs were tight when you finally got to lay them down again after being held up for so long… you tried not to imagine how long you’d be feeling the effects of this, wearing bruises and feeling knots and having to know exactly where they came from.

“Come on,” he mumbled as he lifted up your limp upper body, pulling you closer to him.  He held your face for a second, petting your cheek which was still a bit clammy with sweat.  “Kiss me,” he demanded, though he said it somewhat softly; you didn’t actually sit up and do it for him, but you let him press his lips to yours and you tried your best to half-heartedly mirror his movements as he did it.

He held your head and neck more firmly and slid his tongue into the kiss, making you whimper a little but that was the end of your protest.  You thought it was a little strange that he wanted to kiss you now, but maybe it was just a matter of claiming you in the final way since he’d pretty much covered all the others.

When he broke away, he brushed his thumb over your cheek and smiled at you sweetly.  

It’s over, you told yourself, hoping to feel more relieved.  It’s over, he’s finally done with you.  You did it.  It’s over.  But as those words repeated in your mind, you only felt emptier than ever.

“Look at your boy over there,” Jackson mumbled beside your ear, a smirk on his lips as he shook you a bit with the arm around you.  “You see it, don’t you?  He looks different now.”

You dared to glance at your captive boyfriend, who you realized you hadn’t heard muffled protests from in quite some time.  His eyes were bloodshot and swollen, but dark, too; his stare was heavy and piercing.  You suddenly felt sick.

“He looks at you different now.”

You bit down on your lip as it started to shake; you felt worse than ever with him looking at you like that.  Things hadn’t been perfect before he left— nothing’s ever perfect— but they were good, and easy, and now you felt like he hated you.  But what had you done wrong?  All you’d done was try to keep him unharmed by appeasing this awful, horrible person… 

Jackson had already been speaking quietly, but he dropped his voice down to whisper as he rubbed your shoulder.  “I don’t think he’ll look at you the same way ever again,” he posited, and you swallowed as your stomach dropped.  

“I don’t… I don’t understand,” you whispered under your breath.

“He’s never seen you like that before,” Jackson explained, “and he understands now that he can’t do for you what I can.”

Jackson brought his hand to his own chest as he said that, but then reached up to wipe up another tear that rolled down your cheek.  “Please,” you said, looking at your boyfriend though he wouldn’t meet your gaze, “don’t— don’t think that I— it’s not my fault!  I didn’t want this to happen!”

“Shh, you don’t have to lie anymore,” Jackson cooed at you, “we’ve all seen the truth now, it’s alright.”

You were exhausted, you were devastated, you were too overwhelmed to even feel terrified anymore; you dropped your head onto Jackson’s shoulder defeatedly.  After all you’d been through tonight, you were starting to lose track of what was real anymore.

He let you cry quietly against him for a while, petting your head, until finally breaking the silence.  “Now, the thing is, there’s actually just… one more thing I need you to do for me,” he admitted, and you started to cry harder again.

“Please— please, I did everything you asked,” you sputtered out through your tears, “you took.  Everything. From me.”

“Hold on, that’s not true,” he frowned, “you’ve still got your cuck boyfriend over there, even if he’s not quite what he used to be— you still love him, don’t you?  Can’t help that?”

“O-of course I do,” you insisted, feeling oddly guilty as you said it.

“So, you don’t want me to hurt him?” 

Even if this was the end— even if he would hold what was done to you against you, which would break your heart— you couldn’t have that on your conscience.  You shook your head.

“I didn’t think so,” Jackson nodded, “you’re too sweet for that.  I won’t hurt him, and I’ll let him go, if you promise to do what I ask you to.”

“What more… what more could you possibly want…” you breathed, shaking your head, trying not to imagine what else there was for him to do to you.

“Something a lot less fun than what I wanted before,” he smirked.  “What I need from you now is purely work-related.”

You wrinkled your brows together with a sniffle as you began to slowly compose yourself.  “Work…?”

“Let me tell you a little bit more about what I do for a living…”

[randomhealer]

(L&D) When a hot scene comes

characters: Xavier, Rafayel, Zayne, Sylus, Luke & Kieran

warnings: Crack, don't take it seriously, not reviewed, GN reader, use of the word dick in Sylus' part only once, but really nothing explicit I think

n/a: did you see some parts cut? if so I'm sorry, this has been with me for a while and it was a big smut actually but I tried to redo it- sylus part was so big it was a whole one shot i cut off lmao, Happy bday Doktah zayne

Xavier

Xavier is watching attentively but not like a movie but like a documentary in his mind, he is using all his brain cells to remember important points of the scene. Do you like the scene in front of you? Do you like it when the man does those things? Okay, so he'll remember to be a little more dominant next time, the movements, some lines... he'll try to remember that if you find it hot...

Xavier is more attentive to observing you and your reactions than in the scene, he already has what he needs so he observes closely... your cute little smiles, your lip bites, your low giggles, sighs... he doesn't really like you giving such reactions to another guy, even if it's on TV, he'll still let it go this time since he'll use what he learned to his advantage

(If you look to the side you will see Xavier looking at you sideways while he has a pillow on his lap, he looks a little angry)

Zayne

He's fine with what you chose to watch, he won't blink because of you even if the movie is boring, although he's a little surprised by the kind of movie you like, he expected something more... innocent? romcom... something like that, not a dark romance full of whips, ropes, candles being used in unconventional situations... even fruits are in it?!

He is shocked... although still cold on the outside, looking at you, the little creature next to him, looking innocent, smiles at the scene unfolding on TV, he just sighs after all you are small but you are still a big box of surprises.

At the end he will be warning you about the risks of using items or anything unconventional for that type of thing.

Rafayel

"Oh you destroyed my innocence, you monster"

That's what he'll say at the end of the movie, even though he watched it all the way through and with a carefree smile on his lips, he seemed more used to all the heavy stuff in the movie. Of course, none of those fake scenes can beat the dirtiest thoughts he has about you. If that's what people like, then his thoughts about you would win four Oscars. He could make a movie with more than four hours in seven different settings with more than twenty hotter scenes than this one with you in a single day.

He is more interesting than a lame movie with bad acting performances and he will show you after the movie is over

Sylus

Sylus is judging the entire movie, laughing at how different things are from real life, and how bad the lead actor was, although the movie was a bit similar to your first meeting...

"Do you like watching this kind of stuff? I thought you were a well-behaved kitten..." Sylus murmurs softly in your ear pulling you closer as he tightens his arms around your waist as the two of you lie on the couch.

"My dick is way bigger than his, and who needs so many toys to make sure their partner come at least once?" He says with slight sarcasm, a chuckle almost like a light heavy purr echoes from him before you respond.

"but you have a room just like the one in the movie with some toys too"

Sylus just raises an eyebrow at this before sighing and replying while drawing circles on his waist with his thumb "No Kitten... those are not 'toys' they are items for real torture, the first thing you thought when you entered my work room was 'wow bdsm toys?' you are dirtier than I thought love."

Luke and Kieran

You got Luke, You got Kieran

and now you have one on each side sitting next to you while the three of you watch the movie together, even though it didn't go as planned.

The movie was more of a comedy to them than anything, it was almost like taking the boys to an amusement park, first they didn't like the male actor, they found him tacky or even compared him to Sylus a little to the point of choking on laughter, they were rooting for the girl in the movie to break up with the guy and have an independent life, saying lines from the movie to you and telling you how lucky you are to not have just one guy but two guys who could make a better dark romance and that you wouldn't need to call the police on them...

"Boss has a room just like this room in the movie... do you think Boss is actually a dom who likes BDSM?" Luke asks looking at you and his brother on the other side of the couch, both with their arms around your waist, Kieran just rolls his eyes slightly

"no, I still think Boss is a secret Wanderer, I'm sure he turns into one every night, that's why he doesn't sleep...Mc can confirm this"

[merakiui]

maybe, i'm afraid.

azul ashengrotto x (female) reader cw: slight angst, nsfw, azul bottles his feelings and is insecure note - happy birthday to my favorite tako in the whole world. <3 may you have wonderful days forever!! // loosely inspired by lovelytheband's "maybe, i'm afraid."

i. spring - dancing in your party dress, you were singing me some frank sinatra as you wept. pull me close enough. it seems like we lost touch, so hold me as the record skips.

“Can you believe we’re gonna be fourth years?!” Kalim exclaims with wide, sparkling eyes. They look like twin garnets set into his face—polished jewels having caught the aquatic illumination from Mostro Lounge’s aquarium. “Time really does fly, huh!”

“Feels like yesterday,” Ruggie agrees around a mouthful of food. His plate is stacked as high as it can possibly get, piled with contrasting flavors. “Pretty crazy to think we’re all gonna be heading off in different directions soon.”

Jade nods. “Our school lives are as fun as they are fleeting.”

An odd quiet falls over the three of them, which is soon broken when Floyd drapes himself over the booth. He leans down to swipe a sliver from Jade’s plate. “Whatcha talkin’ about?”

“Just reminiscing.”

“Ah. S’bout that time, ain’t it? Gettin’ sentimental in the spring.”

“Makes sense. The semester’s ending and people are starting up their internships or going home. Really makes you think…”

Ruggie gazes at the group huddled near the bar. Riddle, Jamil, and a half-awake Silver chat alongside you and Azul. You seem to be in the middle of a riveting story, for your arms gesticulate wildly. Azul looks on with what Ruggie thinks is the most mushy-gushy, ooey-gooey smile he’s ever seen.

“We’re gonna come back in the winter, aren’t we?” Kalim asks, tilting his head.

“Indeed. For the cultural festival.”

“Yeah, that’s right! It’ll be fun to see you guys after so much time apart. Oh, we should all keep in touch! That way it’ll feel like no time has passed at all.”

“Perhaps not for us.” Jade follows Ruggie’s line of sight, landing on one person in particular. “For others, the gap is cavernous.”

“What do you mean, Jade?”

Floyd catches on then. “S’not our fault he’s not sayin’ anything.”

Ruggie shrugs. “It doesn’t concern me.” He pops up from his spot in the booth, grinning. “It’s been great and all, but I’ve gotta get my fill. Wouldn’t be right for a guy to skimp out when it’s Azul hosting.”

Giggling, Floyd waves him off. “You do that, Sharksucker.”

Kalim turns to the twins, brows raised. “You’re talking about Azul?”

“He’s been swept up in Shrimpy ever since. It’s been—how long now?—about two years or something.”

“Oh.” Kalim blinks back at him, slow on the uptake. And then, seconds later, it hits him. “Ohhh! He likes (Name)!”

“There ya go.”

“I’m afraid he’s yet to confess,” Jade adds around a bite of cake. “You should see the plans he’s drafted. Dozens of them, in fact. Each one is… Oh, perhaps I’ve said too much already.”

“I don’t get it. If he likes (Name) so much, why wouldn’t he just confess? Why make plans?”

“Wow, Sea Otter, you don’t play when it comes to feelings, do ya?”

“If it was me, I’d want everyone to know how much I care about someone.” To demonstrate this point, he cups his hands around his mouth and shouts, “You’re the best, (Name)!”

You glance past a now wide-awake Silver at the twins and Kalim. Mirroring his actions, you reply in a giggly voice, “Thanks! You’re great, too, Kalim!”

Beaming, he says, “See? It’s not so difficult. If Azul needs any help, I’d be happy to—”

Floyd throws his head back and cackles like a madman. “Not so difficult for you!”

Jade masks his amusement behind a gloved fist. “My, my. I think I’ve just witnessed the very soul drain from Azul’s eyes. You have quite the talent, Kalim.”

Kalim doesn’t hear the underlying meaning or the backhanded barb in his statement. “He’s got time, doesn’t he?”

“That’s what he keeps saying. But deep down he knows.” Floyd watches Azul hurry to recover his composure before anyone can notice. “He’s leaving for his internship after school’s over and then graduation’s next spring. He’s running out of time.”

“Does (Name) like him? Maybe she’ll confess before he does!”

“That’s just it. He doesn’t know what Shrimpy feels for him. Been driving himself crazy all school year tryin’ to figure that one out.”

“I suspect he’s grown excessively cautious as a result of his fear of rejection,” Jade explains, dragging his fork through the buttercream smeared on his plate.

“But if he confesses now and she doesn’t feel the same, he’ll have all summer to recover.” Kalim turns his stare on you next. “(Name)’s always been nice. I’m sure she wouldn’t shatter his heart.”

“When you’re Azul, even the tiniest push is enough.” 

“Really? But he’s always so strong!”

Jade hums. “Three hearts are quite the boon-burden.”

“Only makes lovin’ someone that much worse. Cuz then you’re lovin’ ’em three times as much.”

“Isn’t that good? I think it’s sweet Azul cares about (Name) so much.”

“Sweet…” Jade shares a look with Floyd. Something unspoken passes between them. “Yes, I suppose that’s one way to put it.”

“Azul thinks it’s a pain in the ass. Throws him off his course and he loooves bein’ on his course.” 

Kalim stares a moment longer. “Maybe he needs a push in the right direction.”

“Liquid courage works wonders—”

“—or gives way to woe.”

“Nothing like that.” He doesn’t elaborate further, instead getting up and padding over to the bar with a cheerful bounce in his steps. “Hey, everyone, let’s take a picture!”

Riddle welcomes him with a warm smile. “Ah, hello there, Kalim.”

“You seem to be enjoying yourself,” Jamil comments, arms folding across his chest. Which, arguably, is worse because it can only spell trouble should Kalim find himself inspired.

“Way ahead of you!” You hold your Ghost Camera up, turning the lens on Kalim. Lighting up like the very sun in the sky, he poses just as you snap a photo. It takes a few moments for it to develop, but once it does you hand it over to him for his perusal. “Looking good as always.”

“Aww, thanks! Okay, your turn next! Let’s get a big group photo and then individual photos.” With the camera now in his possession, Kalim’s free to fidget with it as he pleases. “Ooh, this is neat!”

“Careful with that!” Jamil bounds forward just in case. “The Headmage gave that to (Name). Don’t break it.”

“I won’t,” Kalim promises, holding it up to capture you and Jamil in its sight. “I think I’ve got it! Everyone, group up! Picture time!”

There’s lots of fumbling. An argument about height breaks out. Floyd pokes fun at Riddle for having to stand in front to account for his height. Riddle fumes, red with anger, and stomps his foot indignantly—all while insisting he’s still growing. You offer to stand beside him, but he hisses at you like a cat: “Don’t patronize me! I’m of perfect, healthy stature for someone my age!”

Kalim looks on from behind the camera. “Actually, can we get (Name) and Azul together first?”

Azul, who had been in the process of adding to the joke with a comment of his own, hesitates. He peers at Kalim, his walls rising. “Me?”

“Yeah! Only fair to put you front and center. You’re the host, after all!”

“Ah, right. Of course. But then—”

“Why me?” you ask, confused. “If anything, I should stay out of the picture. I’m not a third year like the rest of you.”

Kalim gasps, scandalized. “We can’t do that! It doesn’t matter what year you are. You’re still our friend, and parties are for everyone to enjoy.”

“Doesn’t that throw off the original plan?” Ruggie wonders, munching on a frosted donut.

“Kalim, we need to account for height. Riddle can’t stand in the back.” Jamil glances apologetically at Riddle. “That’s just the reality of it.”

Riddle huffs, refusing to dignify that with a response.

“I’ll stand in the front,” Silver offers.

“What? No, that’s not the issue here, Silver.”

“It’s not? I thought we were picking who stands beside (Name).”

“Ooh, I wanna stand with Shrimpy!” Floyd wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your head. “C’mon, Sea Otter, take our pic!”

Jamil sighs. “All of you…”

“Shall we take individual photos with (Name) first?” Jade suggests, smiling placidly at Kalim.

This time the message is received loud and clear. “Oh, great idea, Jade! Azul and (Name), could you stand next to each other?”

The group disperses to allow you and Azul to do just that. Rigidly, Azul steps closer. He keeps a healthy distance between your bodies, one Jade picks up on right away.

“Please smile and pretend like you love each other,” he instructs, to which Azul flusters.

“W-What? Jade, that’s—”

“C’mere, Ashengrotto! I don’t bite!”

With a joyous laugh, you wrap your arm around Azul’s waist and drag him in close. He stumbles, flushed in the face, just as the camera flashes. The corresponding photo slides out next, blank for a while. Eventually, the image begins to show up with striking clarity.

“How’s it look? Great, right?” As soon as it happened, it’s gone—your warmth. The comfort of being held. Azul almost pursues you when you release him from your grasp and move towards Kalim to inspect the photo. Thankfully, he catches himself. “Hey, this is nice! Good job.”

You and Kalim share a high-five.

“Me next, Sea Otter!” Floyd crowds in, baring his pointed teeth in an unruly grin.

With everyone’s attention on you, Kalim, and the camera, Azul’s left to stand behind in silence. Anticipating the rainless deluge, Jade lingers within earshot.

“I know,” he mutters in a brittle tone. “Don’t say a word.”

“Not a peep. Although if I may share just a tiny tidbit… Kalim offered some very helpful advice. You may want to hear it.”

Azul stares at him, stunned. “You told Kalim?”

“Not directly, no. It was implied.” Jade averts his mismatched eyes on purpose. “More or less.”

“I should’ve made you and Floyd sign NDAs…”

“Is it really so sensitive?”

“Yes! Yes, of course it is!” Azul deflates with a sigh, looking on mournfully. You’re trying to snatch the camera from Floyd’s hands. He holds it up and out of reach, laughing raucously. “What did he say?”

“If you confess now, you’ll have the entire summer to mend your tattered heart.”

Azul barks out a short, hollow laugh. “In an ideal world, that’s easy.”

“You’re making it more difficult than it needs to be.” Jade issues an encouraging smile. “What’s the worst that can happen?”

“Are you seriously asking that?”

“It’s just something to consider.”

A minute ticks between them. Jade watches the scene alongside Azul, delighting in distant chaos.

“I’m afraid, Jade,” he admits quietly, the confession as soft and fragile as a single breath. “She’s everything and I’m…nothing.”

Jade frowns in disagreement.

“I’ve looked at it from every conceivable angle. There isn’t any calculated risk to be made—no potential profit or success to be had.”

“Are you certain?”

“Very.”

“Well, it doesn’t hurt to get it off your chest. We have a few weeks left before the break. If not your heart, perhaps you could establish a means to communicate?”

“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt… For the sake of networking—”

Jade chuckles. “Networking? Is that it?”

Azul scowls. “You’re awfully irritating tonight.”

“I’m not the one with his tentacles tied, hopelessly infatuated.” 

“You—”

“(Name), there’s something Azul would like to tell you,” Jade announces, and you turn to look at him.

Azul thinks he should just go ahead and die right there. Is it possible to spontaneously combust if he thinks about it long enough? Is such a phenomenon magic? All he needs to do is visualize it and then the spark will catch and—

“Yeah? What’s up, Azul?”

Azul flounders, his concentration broken. Like he’s done so many times in the past, he plasters his trademark smirk-grin on and falls into the shoes of the sleazy conman. “If you ever find yourself in need of study materials even after I’ve graduated, do not hesitate to contact me and I—”

You laugh. “I think I’ll be good. Thanks, though.”

With withering confidence, he chuckles. “I could give you quite the deal. You’d be missing out…”

You roll your eyes, unconvinced.

Jade—annoying, asshole Jade—brushes past, smooth as sea glass. “I shall take my leave, but please continue your chat. I believe there’s a camera waiting to capture the memory of me.”

Now it’s just you and Azul. He clears his throat, suddenly awkward.

“(Name), I—”

“Azul—”

“Oh.” He stares at you, a smile twitching on his lips. “You first.”

“No, no, you spoke before me.”

“Ah. Well…”

If you confess now, you’ll have the entire summer to mend your tattered heart. As if a love that’s been flowering for two years could possibly be resolved within the span of a few months.

He tries again even though it’s not what he really wants to say. “I do hope you’ll have a pleasant summer.”

“You as well.” You nudge him. “Kick ass at your internship.”

“I intend to.” Right. Internship. Work. Business. He can hold a normal conversation if that’s the topic. “And you? Do you plan to stay here?”

“Yeah. Crowley’s letting Grim and me live on campus since we don’t have anywhere else to go. I’ll work part-time in Craneport. Summer is a great season for tourism, but I shouldn’t have to tell you that.”

Azul laughs. “If it’s a family, they may spend more on kid’s menus for the novelty of it all. Be sure to talk it up to truly sell it. All children deserve to know the magic of a seasonal menu, do they not? Food in fun shapes. Fairy tales and sparkles. All of that razzmatazz. It’s the experience they’re paying for, after all.”

“Is that advice free?”

“Is it?”

“Fine, fine.” You dig through your pocket and hand him the photo from earlier. “Your payment, good sir. A memento of me.”

Azul takes it from you, admires your effortlessly pretty smile, and then freezes. “Oh, I look positively dreadful!”

“Not at all. It adds character.”

“A horrid sort of character.”

You sidle up beside him, peering at the picture. “I like it. It’s a photo of an imperfect Azul.”

“What an ambiguous compliment.”

“I’m serious! It’s Azul when he’s not acting. I like imperfect Azul. He’s authentic. A real person.” You pat him on the shoulder. He stiffens, betraying his initial nonchalance. “Or maybe not. One day I’ll catch you off guard.”

“We’ll see.”

“One day…” Your attention is stolen when you catch sight of the group attempting to bunch together for a selfie. Offering Azul that same smile he’s admired ever since he saw it, you add, “Have a fun summer. Don’t be a stranger next year, okay?” And then you’re bounding across the lounge. “Wait for me! I want in, too!”

For the rest of the semester, Azul keeps the photo tucked away in his phone case.

I have time to mull over the pros and cons, he tells himself when he departs through the mirror, summer break at his fingertips.

ii. summer - maybe i’m just too good. maybe i’ll run away. maybe i’m over you. maybe i shouldn’t stay. maybe i just don’t care. maybe i talk too much.

It occurs to you, while sorting through the photos you’ve taken throughout this past school year, that there’s an absurd amount of Azul. Whether on his own or with others, he appears in more photos than anyone else. You wonder how that happened—how you managed to be there for so many of his moments, each one documented in photographic permanence.

Some of them are humorous. Azul looking unimpressed when you lifted your camera to capture him. Grim jumping into his arms to demand snacks. His glasses sitting crooked on his face. Some of them are endearing. Azul reading in a comfortable nook in the library. Azul smiling fondly at the lens during an alchemy lesson. Azul laughing after you cracked a joke during PE. Some of them are animated. Azul waving at you from across the courtyard. Azul rolling his eyes at a dull pun. Azul playfully blowing a kiss to the camera after you told him to do something memorable. Some are special. Azul in his birthday robes. Azul during that time Mostro Lounge became a butler café for one week. Azul on his last day of the semester, leveling the camera with a roguish smirk.

This one—the most recent and last photo taken of him—is especially important. It’s the conversation that prompted an unforgettable expression that fills you with butterflies whenever you recall it.

“I think you’ll miss me,” you told him, elbowing him for good measure.

“I think I will,” he replied, his lips curling.

Unequipped to deliver a witty retort, you could only gawk.

“Don’t tell me that’s all it takes to shock you into silence.” He chuckled, and there was that infamous smirk-grin—sitting so perfectly on his face, as if it was meant to be there for this very exchange. “You’re too easy, (Name). Where’s the challenge?”

Wordlessly, you raised your Ghost Camera and snapped his picture.

There are so many facets to his person that you’ve managed to catch on your camera—complex layers you wouldn’t have otherwise witnessed if you hadn’t spent so much time around him.

Now you realize why you have an abundance of Azul photos.

We sure hung out a lot this year, and every time I had my camera…

Is he your muse? Is he just naturally photogenic? He fits into plenty of backgrounds, but it’s never the scenery that fascinates and bewitches. It’s always his expression, his body language, his emotions. And the reason all of these photos are so important is because this is an Azul who is comfortable enough to show these sides to you. An Azul who wants you to document his best and his worst, his beautiful and his ugly, his silly and his serious.

Sitting at your desk, thumbing through stacks of photos, you know he’s more than a muse. As you watch Azul move in various pictures, you wonder what he’s doing. It’s only a month into summer, but everything feels so slow. Campus has cleared out, and with it the lounge has closed for the season. You’re certain he still has his ways of making profit and spreading word of its wonders. Azul isn’t foolish. He’s always working an angle. Endlessly clever and stubbornly ambitious.

Does he miss me, too? you think, running your finger over his smiling face. Or was that just something he said to get a reaction?

Just then, a gut-wrenching thought lodges itself deep: Are we even friends? What if he thinks I’m a nuisance? Maybe he’s just tolerating me and all this time I’ve been delusional.

You glimpse the photos again, watching Azul laugh soundlessly in an animated loop. What am I to you, Azul?

As if on cue, having sensed your sadness, arms wrap around you from behind. For a second you think it’s Grim, but then you see distinctly human hands clasping together. You whirl, startled out of your skin, to find Azul Ashengrotto standing there.

“Wha… What?”

He’s…here. Azul is standing in your bedroom.

You blink once and he remains. You blink twice and he’s still there, gazing down at you with soft, smiling features.

“Hello to you as well.”

“Hey…?” You pat his cheek and flinch away. “Oh, you’re real!”

“Of course I am! Why wouldn’t I be?” Chuckling, he withdraws and moves to stand at your deskside. “I’m wounded. To think you would forget me just like that. And I thought I was plenty memorable.” He blows you a mock kiss then, and that’s when it finally strikes you.

This isn’t your Azul. This is an Azul from your photos.

How is this even possible? you think, scrambling to find which picture—which memory—he’s from. In doing so, you remember a particularly unique fact about the Ghost Camera. It’s a magical device that allows a photographer to capture slivers of their subject’s soul, which gives way to a special sort of connection known as a soulbond. The deeper the bond, the more likely the person in the photographs is to take on animation and, in some cases, slip out of the image that contains them.

So this is Azul from the time at which he was last photographed, you determine, holding up pictures to match his corporeal likeness to that of the scenery. The Ghost Camera is so cool…

“I missed you, you know.”

“Did you now?” He leans in close, curious. “How much?”

You push him away with a weak scoff. This isn’t good for your heart. Any closer and you might say something you’ll come to regret.

“Not as much as you think.”

“Is that so?” His gaze pans over to the pile of photos on your desk. “And these photos are simply here for convenience?”

“D-Don’t worry about it! Summer project. You wouldn’t get it.”

He flashes his teeth at you in a bright, competitive grin. “Try me.”

“You’re so nosy. Don’t you get tired of prying?”

“Not in the slightest.” He leans against the desk, his arms folding casually over his chest. “That’s besides the point. You’re avoiding the subject at hand.”

You turn in your chair and open your mouth to reply—why are you so invested in this?—but a better idea crops up. Meeting his cerulean stare with fierce, fiery eyes, you challenge him: “If it matters so much to you, I could be convinced to share my plans for the small price of one kiss. A real kiss. Not that fake one from before.”

Azul blinks back at you, a smirk crawling onto his face. “Is that all you desire?”

“What do you mean by—”

Your question is cut off when another set of arms embraces you from behind. Warm, soft lips press against your cheek; his breath tickles your ear.

“Are two not better than one?”

With a yelp, you jerk back so fast that you almost fall out of your chair. Standing there, looking very proud of himself, is another Azul. But this one, unlike Dorm Azul, is dressed in his school uniform. A very helpful distinction.

“D-Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

It’s the only coherent sentence you can manage. Your mind is a panicked muddle: I can’t believe it. Two Azuls. Am I dreaming? This is definitely a dream, right? There’s no way he’d kiss me on the…

You slap your hand over your cheek, gasping. “Y-You kissed me?!”

“Is that not the price you wanted me to pay?” School Azul asks, one brow raised as if daring you to deny that fact.

Dorm Azul’s fingers curl under your chin, guiding your gaze towards him. “Unless you’d like to raise the price…”

You swallow thickly. This can’t be happening.

“Of course, in raising the price, it’s expected you raise the value of the information you’re willing to divulge,” School Azul adds with a chuckle. “Is that not fair?”

You shrink under both of their insistent stares. “W-Why do you even wanna know?”

“Why not? Any information is good information so long as it’s useful.”

You scoff, but it comes out choked and shy. “I… I’m going to use these photos to put together a present for you. I know your birthday’s so far away, but I’m getting a head start.”

“And this present would entail…?”

You click your tongue at him. “I already paid my half for that kiss. No more.”

“Aah, is that right?” Dorm Azul leans in, kissing dangerously close to your lips. You reach up to touch the corner of your mouth after he’s pulled away. “How much for the full story?”

“How much are you willing to pay?”

School Azul rests his chin on your shoulder. His hands settle on your waist, pulling you up from your seat. This proximity allows you to feel his hair as it brushes against your face. Dorm Azul closes the distance as if it’s second nature, and now you’re sandwiched between the both of them.

Your heart stumbles in your chest. He’s quite literally surrounding you, but you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

“A very valid question.” Dorm Azul glances coyly at School Azul. “What do you think, Me?”

“Will we be enough for you, (Name)?” he purrs, rubbing slow circles into your hips.

You’re dizzy in their arms, your entire body warming with anticipation and embarrassment alike. Is it okay to be selfish? Even though this isn’t technically Azul—just mere memories of him—it seems so real. He’s holding you, touching you, reaching for you…

“Hmm. Two does seem to be a bit much.”

“Let’s call it a holiday and say it’s seasonal spoiling.”

“A gift for the summer.”

“Do open the window to let in the breeze. The heat is prone to making one feel rather…stuffy.”

They’re doing this on purpose. Maybe another Azul is more troublesome than I once thought. I can only handle so much charm!

Shrugging off self-doubt, you grab Dorm Azul by his lapels and yank him towards you, sealing the space that once separated your mouths in a hungry kiss. He melts against you, eyes fluttering shut. It’s quick and starved, the way you chase each other’s lips. You cling to him before you can fall, arms looped around his neck to keep him near.

Fully clothed and achingly desperate, you loathe the unbearable heat, but nothing is more molten than the space between your thighs.

Meanwhile, School Azul takes his sweet time running his hands along your sides, up the length of your body until he reaches your chest. With his form pinned to yours, you can feel his erection pressing against your ass. Rather shamelessly, he rolls his hips. You’re pushed up against Dorm Azul next, who takes hold of your hand and guides it to the strain in his slacks. He pulls away briefly to allow School Azul to slide your shirt up and over your head.

“Were you anticipating this?” he whispers, taking hold of your breasts.

“No way,” you protest between kisses. “Not… No. K-Keep dreaming. It’s too much trouble to wear one in the summer. Gets hot and—”

Dorm Azul captures your lips in another ravenous smooch, and the objection dies in your throat.

“There’s no need for these pesky articles where I’m from,” School Azul murmurs. He presses kisses into your bare shoulder, humming his very obvious delight. “You’d have already been laid out beneath me if that were the case… Soft and sweet, all mine to love at the bottom of the sea…”

“Humans have so many steps,” Dorm Azul laments, tutting.

“And merfolk don’t?” You try to sound smart with your question, but it comes out breathless when your nipple’s twisted between two fingers. “Oh…”

“Not when it comes to clothing. The very concept doesn’t exist beneath the waves.”

“You could visit sometime and see for yourself. I’ll welcome you with open arms.” Dorm Azul rests his forehead against yours. “And maybe then you’ll find yourself so taken with my home that you’ll want to stay.”

“A tempting offer.”

“But?” he prompts, his gaze falling to your hand as you palm him through his pants. He inhales a shaky breath.

“What’s stopping you?” the other Azul asks, his voice muffled in your skin.

“Firstly, I’m not a mer.”

“My dear, that’s nothing. Have you forgotten my proficiency in potionology?”

“And how much will one of your potions cost? I’d love to visit, but if it’s going to bankrupt me—”

“For you, a single kiss is all I require.”

“Isn’t that awfully cheap?”

Dorm Azul chuckles at this back-and-forth. “You say that as if you want me to charge an exorbitant amount.”

Glaring, you squeeze him out of revenge. His laughter comes out choked next, replaced with a needy whimper. Unbelievable.

“Maybe I do.”

“I would be careful with those words, dearest. I might take them to heart.”

He ruts against your hand, panting into your mouth. The kiss is sloppy and wet, all tongue and saliva. You move on instinct, grabbing at his shoulders when you’re taken to bed next. Both Azuls peer down at you from where they kneel on either side of you. They issue you hazy, lust-drunk smiles. Hands wander, feeling every inch you have to offer. You shut your eyes and submit to titillating touches.

“You really did miss me,” School Azul remarks when his fingers slip into your shorts to rub you through your sodden panties. Your breath hitches, a strangled whine squeezed from your throat, and he laughs. “I missed you, too.”

“I really like you,” you blurt, chest heaving with your every breath. He squeezes your clit to draw another sinful groan from you. “I think—Azul, you’re so—I think you’re so amazing… I wish we talked more. The year—aah… It went by so fast.”

“It did, didn’t it?”

“I wanna know you—the real you. I wanna know what Azul’s like when he’s comfortable and when he’s sad and when he’s happy. I wanna—ooh! Please… Please, Azul…” You grab fistfuls of the sheets, arching up towards the hands that caress your stomach lovingly. “I just want you.”

“And you’ll have me,” he—you’re not sure which—promises, leaning over to kiss you. It’s soulful passion, lust bleeding into love. Your cries are lost on his lips when you come undone beneath him, buoyant on a mellow wave.

You sense the loss before you see it.

Half-nude and gasping for breath, you stare up at the ceiling. Your bedroom is empty. All that remains of the Azuls are the animated memories imprinted on the photographs.

“I’m losing my mind…” you mutter, draping your arm over your eyes.

Please let summer pass quickly.

iii. winter - maybe all we are is fools with hearts that tried too hard. and maybe that’s just fine as long as you’re here in my arms.

Azul paces restlessly in his VIP room. It’s been months since he’s seen you, but his heart hasn’t swayed in the slightest. If anything, he’s only grown fonder in the time spent apart. Absence… What a bothersome thing.

“You’re gonna walk yourself into the floor, y’know. Your shoes’ll be all worn out by the time you’re done.”

“I’m aware,” Azul quips, uncharacteristically jittery. He turns towards Floyd. “Do I look presentable? Is anything crooked or misplaced? How about my hair?”

“You’re fine.” At Azul’s disbelieving glower, Floyd pouts. “I mean it. Shrimpy’s gonna like it either way.”

He bristles, defensive. “Who said anything about (Name)?”

“No one, but you’re thinkin’ it.”

“I… T-That’s besides the point! It doesn’t matter. She’s only here because I invited her. Common courtesy and all that.”

“Mm, I dunno about that one.”

Azul frowns at the vault set into the wall behind his desk. If only he could pack all of his fears in there and lock them away for good. Then he could continue masquerading as someone fearless and confident. With winter having descended upon campus, bringing with it layers of fluffy, glittering snow, and the cultural festival having concluded successfully, Azul finds himself lost.

This is the last birthday he’ll celebrate at Night Raven College and, subsequently, the last February he’ll spend with you. He’s running out of time.

“Invitation or not, Shrimpy’ll always wish you a happy birthday. S’not like her to forget. Plus, she cares about ya.”

“You can’t be sure of that.”

Azul’s tone is so sharp that Floyd raises his hands in defense. “Guess not.”

“What would you do?” He inhales a wobbly breath. “If you were in my shoes…”

Floyd scratches the back of his neck, contemplative. “Dunno. Guess I’d wait for the right moment and say somethin’ to get it outta my system.”

Azul sighs. “Jade said something similar.”

“He ain’t wrong.”

“I’m not prepared.”

“No one is.” Floyd smiles at Azul’s baffled expression. “C’mon, Azul, you can plan all you want, but you know life’s never gonna go the way you want it to. S’just how it is.”

“Even so, it’s better to know all viable routes and options before diving into uncharted waters.”

“That’s just it. You can’t know. S’kinda the whole point, ain’t it?”

“I can’t do it,” he decides, the words heavy on his tongue. “I’d rather accept my future failure now than continue working towards it.”

“Like a coward.”

“Far from it! In business, that’s known as rescission. It is a completely valid method of—”

“You ever realize your feelings and business are two separate things? Not everything’s gotta be about business.”

Azul stands there, nonplussed.

Floyd makes for the door, stopping only to add, “Your fly’s unzipped, by the way.”

“You—” He scrambles to check. Much to his relief, it’s not. “Honestly… That’s not even funny.”

He smooths nonexistent wrinkles, schools his expression into something brave, and exhales slowly. I’m not going to ruin an occasion as grand as this with a half-baked confession.

Having made up his mind, he steps through the door out into the bustling lounge. Like clockwork, all eyes turn to him. He searches the crowd for you, hopeful. But before he can locate you, party poppers resound with a loud bang. Confetti trickles down like colorful rainfall, landing on his suit and getting stuck in his hair.

“Happy birthday, Azul!”

He wants to run and hide. He wants to dive into the sea and seek solace in his favorite octopus pot. He wants to bury himself in the sand and disappear.

Instead, he smiles and spreads his arms like he’s just pulled off an astounding magic trick. “Why, thank you, everyone! I’m pleased you could make it. Do enjoy yourselves to the fullest tonight.”

Cheers erupt amongst the partygoers, but they might as well be on a completely different island. Azul turns, hoping to make his rounds and escape, but Kalim intercepts him. Jamil isn’t far behind.

“Azul, happy birthday!” Kalim smiles just as Jamil catches up.

He passes two expertly wrapped gifts into Azul’s empty hands. “On behalf of Kalim and myself, thank you for the invitation.”

“Yeah, super thanks! It’s been so much fun. I hope you’ll like your gift, but if you don’t just let me know and I’ll get you something else. Whatever you want! You deserve it on your special day.”

Azul looks past him, not in the mood to entertain. “Yes, of course. It’s not a problem.”

Jamil raises a brow, but then it clicks. “(Name) wanted me to pass on her regards.”

As expected, that draws his attention. “Why’s that?”

“She wasn’t sure if she’d get to see you on your big, busy day.” Jamil eyes Azul knowingly.

Kalim nods. “We ran into her on the way here, but she said to go on without her.”

Azul doesn’t like the way they’re both looking at him—as if they’re in on some joke he’s not currently aware of.

“Well,” he says, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “her regards are well-received.”

“You’re not going to meet her?”

“It’s my big, busy day, isn’t it? I’m afraid she’ll have to catch me at her earliest convenience.” Azul, gifts in hand, smiles. “Please do enjoy the party, you two. Thank you again for your thoughtful gifts and birthday wishes.”

On his way to the table designed for gifts, Azul spots Riddle, Silver, and Ruggie. They stand off to the side, chatting amongst themselves. He supposes, if anything, he might as well say hello. Setting the gifts down, Azul struts over.

“Good evening, gentlemen. I do hope you’re enjoying yourselves.”

“You know it. Parties at Octavinelle are always somethin’ else,” Ruggie says. Unsurprisingly, he’s done well to fix himself a plate and more. With him around Azul doesn’t have to fret over food waste.

“Your presentation at the cultural festival was very informative, if I may say so,” Riddle commends, sipping his fizzy beverage.

“As was yours.” Azul’s smile tightens. For some reason, he’s always felt the need to walk on eggshells around Riddle. And for good reason, too! Whatever Azul seems to accomplish, no matter how lofty a feat, Riddle seems to do better. “I’m sure you’ve had quite the rewarding experience yourself.”

“Indeed.”

“It’s good timing,” Silver notes, and all eyes drift towards him. Azul perks up. Timing. He needs more of that. “Your birthday came right after the festival. It’s almost like celebrating your hard work and another healthy year all in one.”

“Never thought about it that way. Guess it makes sense when you put it like that.” Ruggie grins cheekily. “Lucky you, Azul.”

“I wouldn’t call it luck. The dates just happened to align… Either way, thank you, Silver. I’m pleased you can look at it with such inspiring positivity.”

“You catch up with (Name) yet?”

“No? Am I meant to?”

“Just asking.” Ruggie shrugs. “She had me run a few errands for her yesterday. Said it was all for your sake, but when I tried to get more info outta her she told me I’d have to wait for ‘the big reveal’—whatever that is.”

Now everyone’s looking at him. Azul feels small.

“With how often I’ve heard her name tonight, I’d think she’s the one with the birthday.”

“Is she really so popular today? Odd. I haven’t had the chance to greet her,” Riddle muses.

“I thought I saw her this afternoon.” Silver furrows his brow, uncertain. “She seems busy.”

“Which is precisely why I can’t fathom the insistence that I ought to have met with her already.”

Ruggie tilts his head. “That the only reason?”

Just how many people are in on this asinine joke? More importantly, which eel is he going to have to wring out for spilling a not-so-secret secret?

Azul realizes his mask is slipping and so he repairs it expertly. If Ruggie takes notice of this, he doesn’t say anything. “It’s bad manners to show up late to a party. I’m sure one of us will agree.”

Riddle nods, but his words are surprisingly lenient. “Life happens. I suppose we can’t fault (Name) entirely.”

“She’ll make it. I’m sure she will. Don’t worry, Azul,” Silver reassures.

He’s not. He won’t. He isn’t.

“If the world was ending tomorrow,” Ruggie says, sliding into a new subject with practiced finesse, “what would you all do?”

“The end of the world…” Riddle frowns. “That’s impossible.”

“It’s a hypothetical. Anything’s possible.”

Silver hums thoughtfully. “I’d spend what time I have left with my loved ones.”

“You sure you’re not just gonna go running back to Briar Valley to protect Malleus?”

“As a guard it’s my duty, but fighting against the inevitable would be pointless.” Silver looks to the rest of them for their input. “If the world is ending and there’s nothing a guard like myself can do to prevent it, then I can only offer what’s left of my time.”

“So companionship. Okay, good to know. What about you, Riddle?”

He huffs. “I refuse to let the world end before I’ve accomplished my goals.”

“Yikes. You academic types don’t rest, do you?”

“No, no, it’s true,” Azul pipes up. “I agree. Why am I going to let the world get in the way of my plans?”

“So both of you are going to resist it until the very end?”

“You said anything can happen in a hypothetical, yes?” Riddle smirks. “In my hypothetical the world says it’ll end tomorrow, but it never does. It keeps saying so like it’s a faulty forecast. The end of the world is scheduled for next week, the week after, three weeks from now. By then, a year’s passed and the world still hasn’t ended.”

Ruggie groans. “That defeats the whole purpose of my question. You can’t give yourself more time when it’s already so limited.”

“Anything is possible if you know what you’re working with,” Azul adds, nodding alongside Riddle. “I quite like this hypothetical.”

“Leave it to the honors students to logic it out and make it more complicated than it needs to be…”

“You wouldn’t spend it with your loved ones?” Silver asks, but it appears as if the question is directed entirely at Azul. “I think I’d want to tell them the things I never got to say. Things I put off saying… Would you do that, too, Azul?”

“I…” He shuts his mouth and then opens it. “I’m not sure what I could possibly say within such a limited timeframe.”

“It doesn’t have to be complex.”

“I guess a good, old ‘love you lots’ is better than nothing,” Ruggie says.

Azul stops short. The end of the world. Time. Loss. Loved ones.

Time! He’s running out of time!

“Well, this was quite the lively discussion, but I’m afraid I’ll have to excuse myself now. There are a few more people I must meet.” Azul smiles gratefully at the three of them. They wish him another happy birthday before he finally departs, his heart in his throat.

He’s running out of time.

Logically, Azul knows the feeling doesn’t reflect his reality. It’s not as if he has to confess by the end of the school year. Logically, he has his entire life to confess. But who’s to say you’ll stay in his life after he graduates? You might be gone by the time he finally finds the right words, the right time, the right circumstance.

You can plan all you want, but you know life’s never gonna go the way you want it to.

Floyd’s right. There’s no way of knowing for sure until he does it. There’s no way to know what lies in those uncharted waters until he dives in. There’s no way to know where your heart lies until he confesses.

The world isn’t going to end tomorrow, but if he doesn’t say what he needs to before graduation he’ll never have another chance. And then that world—the world contained within NRC’s boundaries—will implode and that will be that.

At that very moment, a camera flashes. He spins around to search the photographer out and—

There you are, striding through throngs of people to reach him. There you are, dressed for the occasion. There you are, wearing that pretty smile he sees in his dreams.

“Happy birthday!” You turn the photo towards him for his viewing pleasure. It’s of him, staring off into space. He looks so stone-faced with his knitted brows and pursed lips. “Sorry about showing up late. I had to add the finishing touches to your present.”

You hand it to him. The amateur wrapping job makes the gift appear more lumpy than it actually is. It’s heavy like a textbook. Shaped as such, too. Azul wonders what its contents could be. Perhaps something relating to economics? A novel in a particular genre?

“Thank you very much. I’ll take good care of both.” He tucks the picture into his breastpocket, battling the urge to tear into your gift now. He needs to know. What did you get him? What could it possibly be? “I’m glad you could make it.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world!”

“Even if the world was ending?”

“Uh… What?”

“Ah, never mind that. It was simply a lingering thought from a previous conversation.”

“That’s so grim! And on your birthday, no less.”

Azul waves his hand through the air. A playful smile draws his lips apart. “Can you believe Riddle said he’d make the apocalypse wait on his behalf?”

“Seriously?” You snort, eyes brightening with amusement. “Even the apocalypse gets a schedule…”

He barks out a laugh. “Insanity, isn’t it?”

“Maybe for us, but definitely not for Riddle.” You glance at him. “What about you? What does Azul Ashengrotto’s last day look like?”

He intends to answer with something prepackaged: Awash in success until the very end!

“Alone.”

“Really? No friends or family by your side?”

“Would that make it better? Perhaps being surrounded by others only intensifies the dread.”

There’s some sort of symbolism in coming into the world alone and going out the same. Azul just can’t quite phrase it eloquently.

“Maybe there’s no right answer. Maybe there’s not any comfort in it either.” You run your fingers over the edges of your Ghost Camera. “We can’t know what lies ahead until we’re there. Maybe that’s why we spend so much time theorizing.”

“Quite the insightful judgment.”

“For the record, I wouldn’t mind being your plus-one for the end of the world.”

“I’m flattered.” He grins. “I shall be yours in return.”

“No strings attached?”

“All the strings attached. So many,” he exaggerates.

“No fair!”

Silence fills in the cracks. You stand side by side, drinking in Mostro Lounge’s upbeat atmosphere. After some time, you nudge him.

“Look at us, speaking about all of these sad things. It’s your birthday, not a funeral!”

He wonders if now’s a good time. Should he lighten the mood and confess? But wouldn’t that just make it even more serious and somber? Is there ever going to be an opportune moment?

You can plan all you want, but you know life’s never gonna go the way you want it to.

Surprises. Spontaneity. Luck. All things left to chance. All things Azul attempts to anticipate. He thinks back on the many plans and what-ifs he calculated and wonders if it was worth it.

“(Name), I just wanted to say—” He stops himself, his fingers curling around the gift cradled in his arms. I love you and I want you in my life. I don’t want the world to end here with you and me. I want to know what lies beyond and experience it with you—the good and the bad. Everything. “I just wanted to thank you.”

For being my friend. For being yourself. For existing in the same world as me, even if it feels like we’re doomed to be islands apart.

“What’s this? Genuine thanks? Am I going to find an anemone on my head next?”

“That can be arranged. Isn’t it tradition to grant the person of the hour one birthday favor?”

“Hah! You wish!”

I do. I really do.

The party wears on into the night. Azul repeats the same mantra as before: I have time.

When he’s in his room, gifts piled high on his desk, he sits back in his seat and carefully unwraps yours. It’s a book, leather-bound and regal. It looks expensive. While attempting to approximate its value, he reads the title spelled out with alphabet stickers: My Azul. His brow furrows. Just what are you playing at here?

Cautiously, he opens the book to the first page. Your writing winks back at him: Happy birthday, Azul! This is my gift to you. It’s a chronological journal of your school life! :D People often say it’s difficult to picture themselves through the eyes of others, so I wanted to show you what I see every time I look at you. I hope you’ll never forget just how important you are. If you ever do, open this book to remind yourself.

With love always,

(Name).

“Curious,” he mumbles, flipping the page. The layout reminds him of a scrapbook. You’ve decorated it with stickers and patterned tape, scrawled words in different colored inks. There are two photographs—each from Azul’s second year. He’d forgotten about these. That time it snowed so much the students had a snowball fight in the courtyard. That time an alchemy accident (courtesy of Grim) led to Azul speaking in cat for the rest of the day.

In the center, a small blurb reads: My Azul is terrifyingly good at making snowballs within record time, just as he’s terrifyingly good at marketing them at all the right moments. My team was totally losing. Leave it to Azul to swoop in when he knows it’s advantageous… He’s intelligent and passionate. Even when mistakes occur, he works through them effortlessly. (Although it was nice having Catzul for a day!)

He rolls his eyes at that last bit.

The next page displays photos in much the same fashion. You’ve clearly put lots of effort and thought into each arrangement. Azul feels like he’s walking through a museum with every page. Like the first, the rest of the pages that follow include photographs of himself (some with others and some with you) and a short paragraph describing your observations.

His eyes are on the verge of a typhoon as he soaks in every sugared sentence.

My Azul is strong. My Azul is silly. My Azul has the best laugh. My Azul is great at bargaining. My Azul is awkward. My Azul is clumsy (in the best ways). My Azul is resourceful. My Azul makes the best study guides (thank you!!!!). My Azul is a hero. My Azul never gives up. My Azul is a talented mage. My Azul is…

All of these things he’s never heard anyone acknowledge before—have you always seen him in this way? Is this truly what he’s like through your eyes? He finds that hard to believe, and yet there he is on the page, winking at the camera or posing in an outfit from one of the many school trips he’s attended. You’ve added little comments and doodles in the margins and corners. Azul smiles as he reads them.

Noble Bell College sure was something! I’d like to visit again one day…

Vargas Camp was exhausting! I still can’t believe we survived.

Halloween! I want to experience it in the Coral Sea one day. But maybe just for one night. An endless Halloween is too much…

The ceremonial robes are very pretty. They’re so different from the uniforms in my world.

Happy Beans Day! Azul prepares all year for this. That level of commitment is impressive!

Azul reaches the end with watery eyes. He sniffles, so enveloped in a love he’s never felt from any friend before. You care. You truly, honestly care. It’s clear in each and every page—in the words you’ve written. You care about him.

The final page has a blank space the rough shape and size of a photograph. For some reason he understands what he’s meant to do. He slides the photograph you gave him all that time ago from his phone case and pastes it to the space. And then he reads what’s written below.

My Azul keeps all of these walls up in order to protect himself. He’s sensitive and self-conscious. He likes to uphold a perfect image at all times. He likes to keep his weaknesses hidden, his cards close. But then he’s also funny. He’s sincere and gentle. He’s sweet. He’s someone I admire from all sides, good and bad. Even when he’s scheming, even when he’s acting, he’s still Azul. My camera’s captured so many of his moments, which is very apparent now that you’ve made it to the end. But I’m happy to have documented these moments because they showcase everything that makes my Azul himself.

My Azul has never looked “positively dreadful” to my camera. Even on the days where he feels like nothing, my Azul is everything to me. I will always think so.

He’s crying. He can’t help it.

Azul sits there and he sobs.

He sobs until his throat is dry, until his eyes are blotchy and red. He sobs until he can’t anymore.

Holding the book close to his chest, he wonders how he ever managed to befriend someone like you.

An angel. That’s what you are.

An angelfish.

And he’s Azul. Your Azul.

iv. spring - but, baby, i’ll be there. yeah, baby, i’ll be there. it’s been a little hard. i’ve been a little tough. but maybe all along i’m afraid, i’m afraid, i’m afraid. i’m afraid, i’m afraid, i’m afraid.

The air is sweet with the scent of blossoming flowers, thick with pollen. Azul’s chest is light, swelling with excitement. A new chapter is about to begin. In just a few hours he’ll graduate along with the rest of his peers and then it’s off to start another story. For Azul, this is just a continuation of something already so prolific.

He strolls past The Great Seven, pausing briefly to admire the Sea Witch in all of her tentacular glory.

“With this weather, it’s almost difficult to imagine they called for rain.” Jade peers up at the sun, shielding its obtrusive rays with one hand.

“They’re always gettin’ it wrong,” Floyd says, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “So annoying. I was hopin’ it’d rain and then they’d cancel.”

“Unlikely. There are always contingency plans put in place when it comes to an event as momentous as graduation.”

“Bleh. Lame. I wanna skip. I hate bein’ in those stuffy clothes, packed in close like a sardine.”

“If you’re absent, you won’t receive your diploma.”

“What a scam.”

Jade simply smiles. Ironic.

Azul turns around to look at them. “Four years… Gone in a blink. Will either of you miss it?”

“It was certainly enjoyable. I admit there are some aspects I’ll miss quite fiercely.”

“Guess it’ll be a bummer not seein’ everyone all the time. I’m gonna miss playing with Baby Seal and Shrimpy.”

“I’ll miss them, too.” Azul sighs. “(Name) especially…”

“You still haven’t told her?” Floyd raises a brow. “You’re gonna leave without sayin’ a word?”

“That does seem to be the plan,” Jade answers.

“I… I’ve thought it over.” He clears his throat. No time for waterworks. He needs to be in top shape if he’s to deliver the opening speech as Salutatorian. Riddle took first place, which wasn’t a shock to anyone. He always did say he’d make Valedictorian no matter what. Azul had been keen to fight him for it, even if it became clear he’d never surpass him. Second place is irksome, but it has its merits. Although he isn’t going to settle with just that! He’ll get first place one of these days. “We’re better off friends.”

“Whatever you say.”

“Is that enough?”

“Is what enough?”

“Her friendship.”

“It’ll have to be.” Azul’s gaze glazes over.

He’s run out of time, but maybe that’s okay. Maybe that was meant to be.

“Well, let’s not dwell on it any further!” He claps his hands and turns swiftly on his heel. “There’s still work to be done.”

Jade and Floyd exchange furtive glances. They know as well as he does that he’s lying.

But maybe that was also meant to be.

— — —

Crowley tasked you with snapping photos for NRC’s yearbook. “Because I am a paragon of magnanimity,” he said, “I am entrusting this very important task to you once more. Take lots of pictures! Don’t miss a single moment!”

You do just that, photographing the graduates as they wait in a room behind the stage, chattering eagerly amongst themselves. You raise your camera to document Azul when he stands at the podium to give his salutation speech. You do the same for Riddle when it’s his turn. The ceremony is grand, ballooning with emotion. You look on with a cheek-splitting smile, proud of every student who crosses the stage. It’s bittersweet. The friends you made when you were enrolled as a first year are now moving on in life.

Time flies. What a whirlwind year it’s been.

When it’s Azul’s turn and he goes down the line to shake the hands of his professors and Crowley, you wave at him from your place in the audience. He meets your eyes from where he stands, and he smiles.

Your camera catches that moment in perfect permanence.

By the end of it all, your face hurts from smiling, your throat sore from cheering, your hands raw from clapping. Grim grumbles at you to knock it off with the sun shower, your tears dampening his fur. You wipe your eyes and sniffle. “I’m happy for them. It’s a good day.”

He forces his head under your palm, allowing you to pet him and cry through it in peace. He doesn’t say anything. You don’t need him to.

While the graduates meet up with their family and friends, you make your rounds. Kalim introduces you to his parents and siblings—all thirty-something of them. You’re in a daze by the time introductions are finished, and Jamil leans over to whisper, “No need to commit everyone to memory.”

“Have you talked to Azul yet?” Kalim asks after everything has settled down.

You shake your head. “Why? What’s up?”

“Just wanted to ask. I know the Headmage wants you to take lots of pictures.”

“We shouldn’t keep you any longer than we already have,” Jamil adds with a curt nod.

You smile. “Congrats, both of you. Good luck.”

“We gotta keep in touch. Promise me you’ll call whenever you can. You’re always welcome to visit, too! Oh, I’ll go check with my parents now! I’m sure they’ll say yes!” Kalim bounds off in their direction.

“Just let me know well in advance. That way I can plan for proper accommodations,” Jamil says, following Kalim with sharp eyes.

“I’ll do that.” You turn to leave and then stop. “I hope you get your vacation one day, Jamil.”

He stares at you, mystified, before a gentle smile softens on his face. “One day,” he echoes. “I hope you’ll find your way home.”

“One day.”

The two of you share a final look before going your separate ways.

Surrounded in such an energetic environment, talking to and meeting families, you find yourself longing for your loved ones. So much time has passed. You wonder how they’re doing. Are they well? Are they worried?

“Aah, it’s Shrimpy!” Floyd crashes into you with so much force you nearly topple. He steadies you with a giggle. “Where’s Baby Seal?”

“Left to gorge on refreshments. Hey, since you’re here, can I get your picture?”

“Course you can.”

Detaching himself, he poses for you. You take a few photos, mirroring his good mood.

“Are your parents around?”

“Mhm!”

“Seriously? They came?”

“Course they did.”

“Did they take transformation potions?”

Floyd nods. “Pops does land business sometimes, so he’s used to it. Mama doesn’t leave home much. She’s real bad at walking on her feet.”

“Ah, got it.”

Floyd grins down at you. “You wanna meet ’em?”

“Maybe later… I’ve gotta keep taking photos.”

“I gotcha. Make sure to snap a few of Azul.”

“Right! Speaking of him, where is he? I’ve spoken to everyone but him.”

Floyd peers out across a sea of faces, scanning each one like a predator sizing up his next meal. “He’s avoidin’ ya.”

“What? Why?”

“Why don’tcha ask him when you see him? Bet he’ll have a fun answer for ya.”

You would, if only you could find him. As the afternoon wears on, you begin to lose hope. If he’s truly hiding from you, he’s doing a great job of it. After what feels like hours of walking in aimless circles, you take pause to consider the situation. If you were Azul and you wanted to hide away for a little while, where would you go?

To someplace familiar. To someplace comfortable. To someplace quiet.

He’s pacing in front of Ramshackle when you arrive. You open the gate and step through, taking each step one at a time. Once you’re within a close enough proximity, you make your presence known.

“Azul?”

He startles and whips around. As soon as he sees you, he lurches forward, intending to leave.

You block his path. “Hey, wait! What gives? I’ve been looking all over for you. Floyd told me you’re avoiding me.”

“Floyd doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

“But I’m sure you do. So what’s up?”

“It’s…nothing. I merely wanted to tour campus one last time.”

“Oh. Why didn’t you say anything? I would’ve come with you!” You attempt to elbow him, but he side-steps you. “Uh, right…”

“Ah, sorry. I… Admittedly, there’s quite a lot on my mind.”

“I get it. Congrats, by the way. Your speech was really good.”

“I’m pleased you think so.”

This…isn’t Azul, you realize, a frown flickering on your face. At least not the Azul I usually see.

“I got to meet all of Kalim’s siblings.”

“Did you? All of them?”

“Every. Single. One. His family’s huge!”

An uncomfortable silence festers between the two of you. You glance at your camera and then at Azul.

“Can you believe that Crowley? He wanted me to take all of these pictures, but there were dozens of professionals who did it much better than me! What was even the point?”

“Terrible, isn’t it? A job as good as the one you do deserves proper payment.”

“Exactly! My services aren’t free.”

Azul smiles, a wistful gloss to his gaze. You can see the cogs turning behind his eyes—can see the calculation as it comes to fruition.

“You can cry. I won’t judge.”

“I’m not going to.”

“It’s fine. It’s normal, Azul.”

He inhales a deep breath, holds it for three seconds, and then releases. When he looks at you next, his expression is hard and riddled with subdued anxiety. A zephyr blows between you, rustling the leaves in the trees, raking through the grass, dragging wispy fingers through your clothes and hair. The quiet expands and stretches wide.

Azul opens his mouth, shuts it, and sighs. A forlorn resignation flits over his countenance.

“I—” he swallows hard and then it just bursts free, the admission he’s kept secret for so long— “I love you.”

Another breeze combs through the premises. Your gasp is swept away with it.

“I’ve loved you for two years. And I… I wanted to tell you so many times in the past, but I never could. I was scared and I ran away. I still am! The truth is that I’m afraid of losing you. I’m afraid of messing up in front of you and looking like a fool. I’m afraid of showing you the parts of myself I hate most. I’m even afraid of that phrase—of saying it because it terrifies me to think, in some distant world, it might be reciprocated. But I have to say it, and I want you to know. Even if you don’t feel the same, I have to tell you.”

You gape at him, utterly speechless. The longer you do so, the more flustered he becomes.

“Y-You’re free to think it’s gross or weird. I understand I’m not the most ideal candidate, but I…” He wrings his hands, exhaling shakily. “I think you’re everything. My whole world.”

There are so many things you want to say. So, so many. But they’re all jumbled, carried along like flowers floating down a stream in spring. You close the gap, taking his hands in yours, and you kiss him.

Azul startles, squeaking against your lips. It takes a minute for him to find his rhythm, but soon he’s wilting against you, his body relaxed. You taste saliva and salt—tears. When you pull back, he’s crying.

“I think you’re the most ideal candidate. I’ve always thought so.” You cradle his cheek in a warm hand.

A sob trembles through him. “I never thought—you’re just so… I couldn’t have imagined…”

“That I’d like you?”

“Yes!”

“Why?” “Because…”

“I’ve always liked you, Azul. I’d never lie about that. Your birthday gift—those are my honest opinions.”

“Every one of them?”

“Each and every one.”

He sniffles weakly, drying his eyes with the heel of his palm.

Instinctively, you reach for your camera. And then you hesitate. You’ve always stood behind the protective lens of your trusty Ghost Camera, assuming the role of photographer in order to remain in his orbit. But now you’d like to try putting the camera aside and documenting Azul’s moments with your own two eyes.

He loves me.

You just manage to shut the front door before you’re pulling him flush against you. He presses you up against the wall in the foyer, a knee slotting between your legs. You melt in mutual merriment, grabbing at every part of him. Your uniform blouse is ripped open in a hurry. You try to handle his graduation robes with caution, appreciating expensive embroidery, but vehemence gets the better of you. It’s a wild rush. Hot and panting, you’re shuddering in carnal delight, every nerve alight. When he presses up against you next, half-dressed and hazy with an addictive adoration, you can feel the result of your exploratory touches straining for release.

“Upstairs,” you mumble against his mouth, sweating out of your skin.

You fall into bed as one, tangled around each other. Azul trails kisses up the expanse of your stomach, working you open on skillful fingers. You shiver beneath him, your heart pounding in your ribs.

“I love you.” A kiss to your belly.

“I love you.” A kiss to the valley of your breasts.

“I love you.” A kiss to your lips.

You love him just as intensely. 

He drags his fingers out next, admiring the slick coating them like it’s a valuable substance. You giggle, dizzy with delirium.

“Can I call you mine?”

You run your hands up and down his arms. “I’d like that.”

“Your boyfriend,” he murmurs, astonished. “I’m your boyfriend…”

“Mhm…” You sit up in bed and climb into his lap. Slowly, inch by inch, you lower yourself. He sucks in a breath through grit teeth. “And I’m—mmh—I’m your girlfriend.”

Azul whines into your mouth. His arms wrap around you to keep you firmly pinned to his body, and he bucks his hips up to meet you the rest of the way. Filled in such a way, connected so intimately, you breathe a satisfied sigh. You dig your nails into his shoulders. Every muscle slackens. It’s bliss, pure and perfect. The both of you mold to one another like sea meeting shore.

You grind down, chasing a mounting climax. “You’re the best—perfect. So perfect. Oh, I love you, Azul. I love you so much. I’ve always wanted to say it.”

He presses his forehead to yours. “You have no idea how fervently I’ve yearned for this—for you.”

You can’t possibly begin to imagine, but you can definitely relate. Weeks of silent pining, of hoping something might happen and you’d be able to confess without fear. Those days are behind you. Now you can know love in his arms and it isn’t so uncertain.

You lose yourselves in the sensations of sweet, soulful sex. He’s gentle like a spring breeze, dedicated like a devotee at your altar. You’re much the same, your moans just as plentiful. Just as loud. You’re wrapped in wonder when you look into his eyes and find the same amount of love reflected back.

I’m so happy I met you.

When he cums, he digs his fingers into your hips to drag you down and bury himself deeper inside. You unravel shortly after, your orgasm coaxed out by a few attentive massages to your clit. Your bodies, sticky and sweaty, stay connected even after you’ve come down from the clouds.

“Had I known, I would’ve said something sooner.” After catching his breath, Azul rests his head in the crook of your neck. “I regret it.”

“I don’t. Things happen when they happen.” You run your fingers through the tangled, silvery strands of his hair. It’s soft just like him. He leans into your touch and hums appreciatively. “I’m glad it happened when it did.”

“I’m glad I could say it. It would’ve eaten me alive if I’d left without telling you.”

“And are you still afraid?”

Azul places his hand over yours. “No, not anymore. The world ahead looks much clearer now.”

“Am I in it?”

He laughs. “More than that.”

“Oh?”

“You are my world.”

[3cremepie3]

Hi!! I don’t know your boundaries for writing fics so please let me know and ignore my request!! But I wanted to know if I can request an idia smut fic with a bimbo typa gal reader!! If that makes any sense😞 she basically teases him so much it ends to them in the bedroom!!

Sweat Pea

Sypnopsis - Idia teaches (fem) Bimbo reader a lesson after she teases him at a picnic.

Warnings - bimboism, dryhumping, cursing, expeditionilism, slight degradation

A/n - Since I already made a similar fic i decided to change up your prompt a bit. Sorry this took so long I actually hate Bimbo readers (that's the reason I got on tumblr in the first place) but I tried my best.

You loved summertime. You could wear all the cute outfits you wanted and not get cold. Well, you could get bit alive by mosquitos but Idia not wanting to see your pretty body marked up by anyone but him had a solution for that. An anti-bug bracelet that repelled them. God you loved your boyfriend he was brilliant.

But some of the things he did had you stuck in a state of wonder. "Why did you wear a sweater it's like 90 out here," you questioned. "I don't like showing my skin," he admitted. "But I love your skin deathly pale is so in style," you insisted. You pulled him into a tight hug.

His hands stayed at his sides not knowing where to grab since you were practically exposed everywhere. "I get that it's a picnic but damn did you have to wear that," he asked. "Of course, you brought it for me Idia."

He was referring to a pair of overalls he brought you that happened to be booty shorts. "But those are for cosplay." Yeah and I'm cosplaying a farmer girl don't you like my fit?" You did a 360 spin for him making sure to show off your cowgirl boots. "Everyone else loved my outfit don't be a hater."

"They loved your tits and ass, not your outfit," he sighed. "You’re acting like you don't feel the same way," you smirked. By now the cookout line had finally allowed you to be first. You picked up a hotdog some baked beans and a Pepsi which was a perfect cookout meal in your eyes.

Idia stuck with his monster and a sandwich. You picked a place to eat underneath a faraway tree since you knew he already had anxiety about coming to a school event. Practically everyone was there even Malleus showed up. He laid out his hoodie as a picnic blanket for you both to sit on. "Wow such a gentlemen." He blushed a bit crossing his arms. You sat enjoying your food until you noticed his stares.

"What are you looking at Idia I can see you I'm not blind," you giggled. "Nothing." You could tell he was lying the tips of his hair were developing into a pink. "Your hairs turning whats the matter." You turned to face his eyes that refused to meet yours. He took a bite of his hotdog to distract himself.

You noticed a bit of ketchup that fell on his chin. So you licked it up in an instant climbing on top of him to do so. You didn't think anything of it but he must've. "Chat no way that just happened in front of the whole school." What's the problem with I'm on top of you all the time?"

Others around you on other picnic blankets heard you and snickered. "I just lost over a million aura points," he huffed. You climbed off of him watching as he quickly sat up. "No Idia don't leave I'm sorry." You grabbed his leg pulling him back closer to you. He stood looking down at your begging form.

You got on your knees ready to beg for his forgiveness but his dick took your fluttering eyelashes as a sign of something else. "Get up," he demanded. You were shocked at his sudden change of tone. "Huh?" I said get up."

And you got up grabbing his hoodie and leaving your shared picnic area. You followed behind him like a lost puppy tugging at his arm. The lanky thing was strong pulling away from your grasp. Looks like your picnic was getting cut short. You were sad to leave so early but happy to be greeted by Ignihyde's harsh Ac.

“There was only an hour left why didn’t we stay,” you sighed. “You were doing so good Idia around all those people!” Your sweaty body felt like it entered heaven as you collapsed on Idia's bed. “God you’re so dense,” he mumbled. “No im not,” you yelled.

“Yes, you are.” His hands swiped at your boots removing them completely. "Thanks for that they were so uncomfortable. “Take a guess why I wanted to leave?” Because you’re scared of being around a bunch of normies?”

His face fell into a straight one. “That’s a factor.” Hmm or maybe it’s because you weren’t hungry? Or maybe it’s because you were too hot. Or actually, it could be because you wanted to game early?”

“I wish that brain of yours would work properly sometimes,” he hissed. “If I was that naive then life would be a bliss for me.” He grabbed your face squishing your cheeks together. This forced you to look up at him.

This time you could see a clear view of his blushing face. It was a deep scarlet color and this time it clicked in your brain that it wasn’t just from the heat. “Ohhh! It’s like that!” You should’ve just told me my sweets.” Your hands wrapped behind his head pulling his body into yours.

“You know I would’ve taken care of you right there.” You kissed him on the forehead and he whined. “Of course, you would’ve whore,” he remarked. “It would’ve helped you get over your fear of people. It could’ve been like conclosure therapy.”

Idia laughed his pale face lighting up in delight. “It’s exposure therapy dumbass.” Whatever you know what I meant.” You stuck your tongue out at him since he was such a know it all. He chuckled before catching it with his.

You shared a quick kiss before he broke it off. You whined wanting it to continue. “You’re so stupid.” He said in between heartfelt kisses. “No, you’re just brilliant. Child prodigy head ass,” you yapped. “If you failed the first grade just say that,” he joked.

“Hey you know that’s a sensitive topic,” you pouted. “Sorry babe if I knew you then I would’ve helped you cheat.” I know you would’ve I’m so thankful for you!” You pulled him in for a tight hug and for a while, you stayed comfy his weight on top of you.

“Wanna show me how thankful you are?” You smiled up at him “And why should I?” Because I’m the reason you're passing now. Remember those pre-programmed glasses I made you? Cause I remember them pretty well.” His hands began to feel up sides trapping you.

“Ha fine I guess you deserve some credit.” Let’s switch,” you asked. Soon you were on top of him demanding kisses. His dick felt as though it could burst through his jeans being contained for so long.

But you showed no compassion dry humping him. He had on a thin pair of sweats that you could feel everything through. But your Jean shorts limited you so you slipped off the over alls and your shirt while you were at it.

No matter how many times you got undressed he was still as amazed as the first time. You really were all his. You confirmed that by grounding your clothed cunt down faster on him. “Feels good,” you moaned. Idia watched as you left more and more of a prominent stain on his pants. You weren’t the only one as the amount of pre he was leaking could lube you up for days.

“We could’ve done this at the picnic you know,” you hinted. “There was blankets and we were in a secluded place.” But if someone walked by,” Idia hesitated. “You probably would’ve came right then. You imagined that you were both still in the picnic location. You sat under an oak tree that would’ve hidden your bodies.

You could’ve had his fingers in your mouth keeping your lips from singing praises for others to hear. But your boyfriend was shy. “No I wouldn’t have,” he muttered. “Don’t think I don’t pay attention to you Idia. I may be stupid in school but when it comes to you…

“I know how much you like it when I wear slutty shit in public. I can always feel how warm you get when I’m close to you. I can see your eyes wander to my thighs. Like just say you want to bend me over there and I’ll spread right then and there,” you challenged.

He groaned hiding his face in his hands. “Fuck your such a slut.” He bit his lips trying to hide the sounds he was making. “It’s okay to admit my shamelessness attracts you I’m the same with you.” I know much you cream your pants to the thought of me.” Your clit rubbed against him so well that you held onto his shoulders for support.

You placed your forehead on his awaiting an answer from his eyes. His yellow ones met yours angrily. His hand slapped against your ass and didn’t wait for the recoil to stop before he hit it again and again. You yelped at the sting your pussy pooling through the material of your panties.

“I shouldn't have to keep putting you in your place.” His other hand dug into your side holding still in a bruising grip. “But you can just shut up.” He plopped you down on the bed. Now he was back on top pulling your panties to the side. His pants and cock we’re soon to follow. You watched the familiar sight and you clenched imagining him entering you.

But he didn’t instead he thrusted onto your bundle of nerves. You shook as he thrusted forward everywhere but your aching slit. “Stop teasing you know I want you.” Your hand attempted to line his cock up with you. But it was quickly grabbed and strapped up above you.

“Fuck I’m close guess your just gonna have to wait.” You looked up your eyes begging him to give you mercy. But he never did his cock just smeared your juices around as it missed it mark. You felt an orgasm silently approaching. But you knew Idia was already soon to blow his breath ragged and every word coming out his mouth being a cuss.

“Fine, you were waiting awhile to cum .” You gave in letting him use you until he stained your stomach with stringy cum. His fat cock lost its Harding but stayed near your cunt. He took a moment to catch his breath before cackling.

You looked up with tears in your eyes. “Why did I get with a villain,” you wondered. “I’m not the bad guy here,” he growled. “Miss fuck in public you don’t always get what you want sweet pea.” None of that mattered you were 100% gonna fuck him in public no matter how many years it took you.

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

A Night Forgotten

Part Three

It’s getting more intense 😈

On top of her earlier worries, now Emoni had an even bigger dilemma to contend with: her boss/secret crush was fully awake...and back to his usual mocking self.

Joy.

What was she going to do now? Her options seemed limited to throwing on her clothes lickety-split and pulling a runner or grabbing the sheet, wrapping it around herself, and demanding he—

The toilet flushed, the tap ran for a moment, and then Erik was standing in the open doorway, drying his hands on a towel. With a quick up and down glance, he took her in from head to toe, and a slow, devastating smile crawled up his cheek. "Well, well. It seems I finally got something right between us, my precious Emoni. It's about fucking time."

Emoni dashed across the room and tore the bedding from the mattress, wrapping the soft, cool satin around her naked body.

“A-ha! So, you don't remember what you did to me last night!" she stated, somewhat miffed by the thought.

Surely it hadn't been that bad a lay...had it?

She tossed him a baleful eye.

“Months of trying to get me on a date, months of both our friends hammering away at me to give you a chance, months of putting up with that humiliating interdepartmental betting pool regarding you and my panties...and you can't even remember fucking me, can you?" She made a pftttt sound and crossed her arms in righteous indignation. "Wow, Erik!"

He laughed. "What a little hypocrite you are, Princess, since it appears you're in the same boat I am...figuratively and literally speaking," he countered, crossing his bulging arms and leaning against the bathroom doorpost. "You can't recall a damn thing about last night, either, can you? Can you?"

Her whole body flushed with sexual awareness and her nipples went instantly hard as Erik challenged her.

How was it that this same defiant behaviour during their formative school days had made her itch to cut his balls off and feed it to him back then, but a dozen years later, now it only made her want to lick him all over instead?

It had to have something to do with the long, attractive package currently swinging between his legs, because as he moved, lounging so sexily in the bathroom doorway, she suddenly found herself staring at it with an eager and lusty appreciation. Gahdamn! it was beautiful! And long…and thick…and—Whatever.

She blinked and forcibly turned away, her cheeks burning. "Will you please put some clothes on so we can talk?" she requested. "You're...distracting."

The Prince actually chuckled at that. "Am I really? Well, then I'll have to politely decline, baby girl. I'm enjoying redirecting your attention towards other more profitable thoughts."

She clucked her tongue in annoyance. "You're arrogance is through the roof about all of this."

"This isn't conceit, Emoni. This is contentment."

"It certainly sounds to me as if your ego is doing all the talking today."

"Well, it's not."

She turned back and cast a cynical expression in his direction. "Then, you’re telling me you’re not happy to swagger and strut around because you finally had sex with me after all these years of trying every line in your playbook to stick your dick in me?!”

He stared hard at her. "No, I'm not. I am, however, feeling a sudden urge to spank that ass. Care to step up and volunteer?" He actually growled then. "And for your information, baby girl, I don’t need a playbook, it comes natural. Who's the arrogant one again?"

“How am I the arrogant one!?” She shouted defensively.

“Well,” Erik started counting off on his fingers, “You find every moment to announce how I’ve been chasing after you all this time. You do it as if you’ve been playing this game of making me wait—

She huffed, he sniffed.

"So, we’re gonna stand here and act like you haven’t been wanting a nigga for a while now? Come on, ma. I can see right through you. It sucks you gotta play games when I could have shown you some things.”

He sounded a bit sulky at that.

Emoni glanced at him sideways. Erik truly looked upset by her accusations, which told her more than his words ever could. Perhaps whatever had happened between them the night before hadn't been pre-planned by him, and he hadn't been responsible for her memory gaps, after all.

“Okay…so…nothing?” She questioned.

“Nothing—well…I can remember us dancing. I remember how I dragged you to the dance floor and we Had a ball,” Erik smirked at the fuzzy memory, “You were….all over me. It was definitely the drinks because you would never do no shit like that sober, but…your ex was PISSED. We shared a drink…”

Erik blinked rapidly a few times then his thick, unruly brows snapped together. He drew a blank.

“That’s…wow—that’s exactly what I remember last as well…what the fuck?”

“Weird, right?” Erik said.

Which left Emoni wondering how in hell it was she could ever have forgotten making love to him, because that had been an event she'd ached for and dreamed of for years. That she couldn't remember anything significant at all in the aftermath was not just a maddening mystery, but also terribly disappointing to her as well. With his own memory of the night apparently lost, too, now she'd never be able to know how it had been between them. Had they connected body-to-body, soul-to-soul as she'd always fantasized, or had it been merely about sating sexual hungers and agreeing to move on? That knowledge was lost forever, it seemed, and that made her heavyhearted.

Clearing her throat, she figured she might as well attempt some civility, since he didn't appear to be at fault, if she was properly reading the signs.

“Right. So...what now?"

He shrugged. "We go back to bed."

She tightened the sheets around her with a twist of her hand, unsure if that idea wasn't the worst one in the history of co-worker one-offs and deserved an argument or if she should just give into the temptation and make a whole new set of epic mistakes today with Erik—this time, memorable ones. Decisions, decisions...

"And why would we do that?" she asked, trying to buy herself some time to come up with a third alternative.

Erik frowned at that. "To sleep. Maybe to fuck again later, once we're both more rested... Why are you so skittish all of the sudden?”

Because you're gloriously naked and suck-able, she thought, and I really want to run my mouth all over you this instant.

"Because I'm understandably nervous right now," she said instead, feeling her palms grow slick with a feverish need to touch him.

As if he'd discarded her words in favour of listening in on her more honest thoughts and impulses instead, he rewarded her with a slow, wicked smile. "Is that so?" he asked, his voice thick with lusty insinuation.

He shifted then, and it took all of Emoni’s willpower to keep her eyes from drifting downwards to seek out the slight movement between his legs again. No way was she getting caught in that mesmerizing action twice.

“Yes, I just said," she reiterated, fanning herself with a hand and wondering if it were possible to spontaneously combust.

Noting her distress, Erik’s teasing waned. "Why?

A third alternative suddenly presented itself: rationally discussing the matter to death. That's what Emoni did best, after all. "Because regardless of the fact that we've each experienced a disturbing loss of memories of the last twelve or so hours, we're both cognizant that some level of physical intimacy passed between us last night," she pointed out, switching into 'professional mode'. "Our relationship, therefore, has evolved and requires us to come to some form of an agreement and an arrangement as to its future."

"Agreement? Arrangement?" He almost sounded offended, “You're starting to sound like a wife looking for a pre-nup, Moni." He jerked his chin towards her bellybutton, and the piercing that lay just beneath the sheets that covered it. "Was that diamond chandelier in your navel not enough for you? Or do you need a bigger declaration of my intentions? I suppose I can get you a ring for your finger to match, if you want.”

She tsked at him for joking at a time like this. "I'm talking about our working relationship, you asshole! What we did here last night...this is going to alter that dynamic, like it or not."

He raised an eyebrow at that. "Why does it have to, though?”

Unbelievable! Could he not see that everything had changed?

Pushing off from the wall, he approached her, "It was about time it did, too! All this time trying to get your attention the old-fashioned way was getting me nowhere with you. Derek and Natalie were right—you needed me to act, not attempt to manipulate you into making the first move,” Reaching out, he tucked a stray curl behind her ear. "I needed to change, my Emoni, or we were never getting here."

She rubbed at her achy temple. "Do you realise you always refer to me so possessively? Why do you do that? We're not even officially dating, but you talk about me as if I'm your significant other.” She argued.

The idea irritated her, because in truth, she'd wanted him to think of her in such a manner—had for a long time now—but Erik had always been impossible to pin down. Like a male butterfly, he'd always liked his freedom...and his women. Not that she'd been totally celibate over the years, but she couldn't boast near the number of partners he'd put to bed. And all along, even when he was with those other women, he'd shamelessly flirted with her, tossing out provocative innuendo or joking propositions that always ended in her scolding or itching to slap him, and invariably nursing a sore heart. It bothered her now that he would continue to play this game with her, especially as they'd obviously crossed a line last night.

"Where's my damn phone?" she asked, too tired to attempt looking for it.

Erik tore his eyes away from her and he scanned the room until he found her hand bag tossed on the floor beneath a lounge chair in his room. He took long strides to grab her bag and then he crossed over to her. He handed it to her and watched her open it, a relieved sigh escaping her mouth as she pulled it out. She checked the time and it was very late in the afternoon. No one had called her or texted. She went to her photos and there were over fifty pictures she’d taken.

She frowned at that. This could help.

"You're welcome," he said, looking at her.

"Oh, uh, thanks," she stammered after the fact, staring at her photo gallery, “But, um...I have a bunch of photos of us…do you?" She asked, "Is that karaoke?! Wait—a tattoo parlor?!!! Little White Chapel?!!! What the fuck?!"

Erik was silent for a long while in the face of that revelation, so she glanced up at him to find out why.

He was staring...no, glaring at her chest. The sheet had fallen and her titties were exposed. Deep brown areolas and thick, pointed nipples against tawny skin.

"Take that sheet off, Emoni," he demanded with a primal look in his eye, "Do it right now."

[formula-nyoom]

Be Proud of Yourself | GR63

Pairing: Platonic!George Russell x Fem!Driver!Reader

Summary: @cinnvmonrolls @scenesofobx and @annabellelee wanted a sequel to I'm Proud of You where reader finally outqualifies George and wins a race.

A/N: Works picking back up for me so fics may take some time for them to come out. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

~~~

“Good job (Y/N)! We’ve made it to Q3.”

 “Whew! Didn’t think I’d make it with that last lap. Glad to hear I did.” You said to your race engineer as you pulled into the pitlane. Engineers surrounded your car as they pulled it into the garage and placed a screen in front of you to go over data. To your right, you saw them do the same with George’s car. The two of you made eye contact and you gave George a thumbs up. He put his own thumb up, signaling to you that he also made it through to Q3. You only nodded your head.

While you were happy for the team that both Mercedes made it into Q3, a familiar, small pit started to form in your stomach. While most drivers that end up in Q3 shoot for pole, you didn’t care what position you ended up in, only as long as it was in front of George. It wasn’t a malicious goal. You just wanted to outqualify your teammate once and hopefully that would lead to people no longer ragging on you for all the times you placed behind George. But being honest with yourself, you knew they wouldn’t really stop. It would probably just make you feel better and hopefully give you a confidence boost going into the race on Sunday. 

The greenlight was given for Q3 to start and you and George were sent out for qualifying. Despite getting impeded on one of your qualifying laps, by the end of the session you felt like you had good pace to make the top 5. Nowhere near pole, but you felt you had good pace as you crossed the finish line at the end of qualifying.

“Alright, tell me where I am.” You said to your race engineer as you did your cool down lap before pulling into parc ferme.

 “You are P3.” Your race engineer told you. P3. That’s the highest you’ve ever qualified this season.

“Wow! I’m proud of that. And George is P2?”

 “No. George is P6.” Your race engineer said. You paused, your brain not really processing what was just said to you.

“What?”

 “You are P3. George is P6.”

“I outqualifed George?” The shock in your voice was evident. Realistically you should have tried to hide it, but you didn’t care. You had finally out-qualified your teammate

 “That you did. Good job (Y/N).”

For the first time, instead of parking your car in the regular parc ferme lane, you rolled your car till it stopped in front of the P3 placard, right next to Max’s car that was parked in the P1 spot. You took your time to get out of the car before running over to greet your team at the barriers. They gave you high fives and pats to the shoulder. While it wasn’t pole, P3 was still something to celebrate. 

 “Glad to see you up here, rookie!” Max said, giving your shoulder a pat. 

“Didn’t expect to be up here. It’s going to be difficult tomorrow for me to try and overtake you.” You told him. Max laughed.

 “Well I definitely won’t make it easy.” He said.

After post qualifying interviews, George was there to meet you as the two of you headed back to the Mercedes garage for debrief.

“Good job mate! Second row!” George said as he patted your shoulder “Wish I could have made it a Mercedes lock out.”

 “I expected you to end up on the front row. What happened?”

“My tires locked up on the second to last turn. Cost me what could have been pole.” George said. 

The adrenaline from qualifying had started to wear off and realization set in on where you placed. P3. 2 spots away from pole. 2 spots away from 1st place.

Your smile dropped and you turned to George.

“What am I supposed to do tomorrow George?” You asked him. “The team is going to expect me to try and win the race. I don’t know if I can do that.”

 “What makes you think that?” George asked.

“Because that’s what everyone else thinks.” You said as doubt started to creep in. You could practically see the media comments that would be online by the end of the night: predictions that George will overtake you by the end of the first lap, or you’ll bin it in the first turn, ruining Mercedes chances of a race win. 

 “Not everyone thinks that. The team doesn’t think that and neither do I.” George said, trying to make you feel better, but it wasn’t working.

“Really? Because I haven’t been able to out pace you at all this whole season! I’ve always qualified and placed behind you at every race, including the sprints. The only reason I was able to outqualify you today was because of an issue with your car. If your tires didn’t lock up, you would have outqualified me again and continue to prove to everyone that Mercedes made a mistake with signing me!” You exclaimed. While you didn’t seem to be crying from your exclamation, your face had turned red and you were breathing heavily. George could tell that this was something you had been keeping to yourself for a long time.

 “Hey, look at me.” George lightly cupped your face so that you would make eye contact with him. 

 “Mercedes did not make a mistake in signing you. You deserve to be here. Who cares if you’ve finished behind me? You’ve consistently scored points for Mercedes for a majority of the season and did so as a rookie. You’ve done better than most rookies when they first join Formula 1. Better than I did my rookie season.” George told you.

 “But the media-”

“Screw the media. They say shit like that all the time just to stir up drama. They only go off of what they’re seeing. If they knew how much you’ve been matching me in pace during our sim runs and during practice sessions, they wouldn’t be saying stuff like that.” George told you. He pulled you into a side hug and started to walk both of you to the Mercedes garage.

“Look, we both know that teammates are supposed to be each other’s biggest rivals, and I completely understand your want to outqualify and out place me at every race. But I don’t want that to cause you to doubt yourself and I’d hate to be the reason that causes you so much distress.” He said. You sighed.

 “It’s not you. It’s the expectations.”

“Put the expectations aside for now. Trust me, it won’t do you any good. You’ll beat me at some point, through your own merit and pace. I know you will.” George said. 

And that made you feel a bit better. 

~~~

The morning of the race, you were wrought with nerves. After the team debrief last night, it was emphasized that you had a good chance of winning the race if everything went well. The expectations were hard to shake. Even with how much you tried to push them to the side like George had advised.

George and you arrived at the track at the same time. While walking to Mercedes’ hospitality, George was giving you all the best advice he could think of for your starting position. 

“Max and Lando will be too focused on trying to get ahead of each other in the first turn. That will open the outside up for you to try and swoop in and take the lead. That’s how I was able to do it when I started P3 with them in P1 and P2.”

 “But what if one of them tries to go to the outside to overtake the other?” You asked.

“Then you wait and bide your time. If you can’t overtake them on the first lap, you’ll have a chance of overtaking them later. But be careful if you have to go 1-to-1 against Lando. We don’t want a repeat of Austria.” “Well maybe a repeat of Austria is what we need for me to get my first win.”

The Drivers Parade was always the calm before the storm. You always enjoyed staring out into the crowd and waving to fans. Usually you’d stand next to Logan or George during the parade and you and Logan would always make a game out of who could spot the most of your guys' drivers numbers in the crowd. But today your game was interrupted by you having to be one of the drivers interviewed during the parade.

“So (Y/N), you’re starting in P3 today. Do you think you have a chance at a win today?” The interviewer asked. 

 “I really hope so. Me and the team have been going over all the possible strategies that could guarantee me a win but there’s also the matter of getting up to P1. George and I joked earlier that a repeat of Austria would be ideal but I think I have a good chance at fighting for a win today.” You said. The interviewer smiled.

 “Now I’m sure you’re aware of this, but if you win today, you’ll be the first woman to win a Formula One Grand Prix. How do you feel about that?”

 Oh. The expectations just became bigger.

Despite the nerves, you were able to muster a smile to answer the question.

“It would be a historic thing and something that I’ve been striving to do throughout this whole season. I know it won’t be an easy thing to achieve but if I can pull it off, it would make this race even better.”

You were thankful that your Mercedes PR training allowed you to answer the question in good faith. Because until then, you had been so focused on the possibility of a win that you hadn’t realized until now what that win could mean. And now you felt even more pressure.

You weren’t even starting on pole and yet you were nervous beyond belief. Sure it was because of a multitude of reasons: You were starting in front of George for the first time, you were in a position to give Mercedes a win, and if you did win, you’d be making history. 

It would be stupid for anyone to tell you that there was “no pressure”, to you there was so much pressure. And it would be even worse if you made a mistake that would cost you and Mercedes the race. The media would have a field day. 

George could sense that you were spiraling again as he watched you struggle to put your gloves on. He walked over and held out his hand for you to hand them to him, which you did and you let George help you with your gloves.

“You’re going to do great.” George told you once your gloves were on. 

 You could only give him a nod. 

You pulled your car into the P3 spot behind Max’s RedBull and nervously waited for the lights to go out. Taking your breath, you tried to center yourself.

 ‘You’re going to do great. Put the expectations aside for now. You. Can. Win. This.’

It was better for you to focus on the now. Worrying about the outcome would affect your race. 

*Blink…Blink…Blink…Blink…Blink*

Foot to the floor, you slammed on the throttle and immediately went for the outside line. But going to the outside didn’t work like George had said it would. Max and Lando were indeed trying to get past each other, like George had said, but Max needed to pull away from Lando because they were getting too close to each other, which caused you to get pushed off the track. Not enough to cause damage, but you rejoined the track in P8.

 “Max pushed me off the track!” You exclaimed to your race engineer, clearly not happy about losing your P3 position. Oh yea. And you were 2 spots behind George now.

 “It’s been noted. Keep a cool head. It’s only the first lap, we can still win this race.” Your race engineer said. You let out a frustrated huff and tried to focus on getting back into the top 3. 

Building up speed you were able to overtake and get into P7, but that put you right behind George. In the team briefing before the race, it was said that you were the priority with your P3 placement, but that was before the start of the race. Now you were worried that since George was ahead of you, he would be the priority.

“Are me and George allowed to fight?” You asked your engineer, hoping they would say yes. 

 “You and George seem to be matching pace so you are allowed to fight as long as you keep it clean.”

“Got it.” You said, a smile creeping on your face. 

You quickly increased your speed, getting into George’s DRS zone. You were determined to get past your teammate. You weren’t going to end this race behind George again.

0.500s, 0.400s, 0.300s. You were gaining on George, just waiting for the right moment for an overtake. But he wasn’t making it easy for you. No, George was defending, making you work for this overtake, making you prove that you can get past him. 

 “The two Mercedes are very close to one another! They have been given permission to fight! (L/N) has consistently been outplaced by Russel throughout this season, but she seems determined to get by her teammate! Down the straight they go, (L/N) has DRS! She dives to the inside and GETS PAST RUSSEL IN TURN 8! (Y/N) (L/N) TAKES 6TH PLACE FROM HER TEAMMATE!”

You didn’t hesitate from pulling away from George as soon as you got past him. You let out a little exclamation of celebration to yourself for getting past but there were still more overtakes to do. Through pitstops of other drivers, you were able to move up to P4 and eventually found yourself within DRS range of Lando, who had dropped to P3. You were gaining momentum and just as you were preparing to go into Sector 1 to attempt the overtake, Lando was called into the pitlane, moving you up to P2. 

“Gap to Verstappen?” You asked as you tried to keep your momentum.

 “Verstappen is 5 seconds ahead. There are 20 laps left so let’s try to catch up to him.” Your engineer said to you. 

You seemed to be one with the car and speed was something you found quickly as you caught up to Max with just 10 laps to go. Now was the hard part: overtaking him. 

Max was a very defensive driver. Everytime you tried to make an attempt at overtaking, Max would try to halt your attempt. You were trying to play it safe for three laps but the end of the race was getting closer and you needed to overtake now in order to win the race. 

The two of you were going into turn 6 side by side. Like repeating the start, you had chosen the outside line. But you weren’t going to let him push you off the track, as you pulled ahead and managed to overtake him. But the two of you had just turned into the strait of sector 2, with Max still close enough to have DRS. He went for the outside line, but you knew he was trying to fake you out. You stayed on the inside and ahead enough so that Max couldn’t overtake you going into turn 9. 

 “Start pulling away. 6 laps to go.” Your engineer said to you. 

“I know! I’m trying! This guy doesn’t want to let go of first place!” Your frustration from the beginning of the race had come back. Max was still riding your rear wing and you just wanted him to stop. You were so close to a race win you just needed to hold off Max for 6 more laps. 

6 laps became 5. Then 4. By the time it became lap 3 you had started to be able to pull away and by the 2nd to last lap, Max had fallen out of your DRS zone.

 ‘Holy shit, I could win this’ You thought. By the time you saw the white flag waving, it was starting to become real.

 “Last lap, last lap. You can bring it home.” Your race engineer said and this time you believed him. 

You were going to win this race.

“Many had doubted Mercedes when they announced they had signed an F2 rookie to be the one to replace Sir Lewis Hamilton. And while she hadn’t been able to beat her teammate throughout this season, (Y/N) (L/N) has proven that those doubts should be put to rest. She outqualifed her teammate for the first time yesterday! Today she not only outplaces him, but she also makes history as the first woman to win a Formula One race! (Y/N) (L/N) wins the Monza Grand Prix!”

As the checkered flag rose, you saw people from the Mercedes team climb the fence and wave their fists in celebration as you drove past them and crossed the finish line. 

 “That’s the checkered flag! P1 (Y/N)! You did it!”

“YEEEEESSSS! OH MY GOD THAT WAS SO HARD! WOOOOO!” A smile spread across your face as you waved to the crowd while on your cool down lap. Part of you couldn’t believe it.

“Congratulations (Y/N). I know expectations for you were high at the start and I’m happy that you were able to deliver on them. You’re making everyone at Mercedes proud.” Toto’s voice now came over your radio and the praise made you smile even more.

 “Thank you Toto. I know a lot of people doubted your decision about signing me. Hopefully I’ve proven them wrong.”

 “You did kid. You did.”

Pulling into parc ferme, you didn’t hesitate to get out of the car and climb up onto the nose. You raised your fists in the air in celebration before swinging one up towards the sky as people cheered. You let yourself just stare out at the cheering ground and soaked up all the excitement before leaping off the nose of your car.

Your feet stay on the ground for a second before you’re getting scooped up into someone’s arms. They’re hugging you tight while spinning you around. You panic for a second at the unknown person holding you, but then you see the familiar blue helmet of George and relax, hugging him back.

 “I knew you could do it. I’m so proud of you (Y/N). You deserve this so much.” George says. He sounds like he’s crying. As he sets you down, you can see his visor is up and there are visible tears on his face.

 “I’m supposed to be the one crying George.” You said, your voice wavering as tears started to well up in your eyes. 

“We can both be crying because the fact is that you have proved everyone wrong. (Y/N) (L/N), you have just won your first race!” George exclaims as he pulls you in for another hug and you can’t help but start crying tears of joy.

Together the two of you walked over to the Mercedes team at the barrier, who welcomed you with open arms and helmet pats. You hugged your race engineer as soon as you saw them, thanking them for helping throughout the race. 

You were given many congratulations by both the team and those you walked past as you made your way to the cool down room. Your fellow drivers gave you hugs or pats on the shoulder as you passed, all of them very happy at your first win.

"I told you you would be up there one day!" Oscar said as you walked past him. Both him and Logan gave you a hug while congratulating you and your smile just kept getting bigger.

“You did not make it easy.” Was the first thing you said to Max when you entered the cool down room. Max let out a laugh as he sat in the P2 chair while you put down your helmet and swapped it for the P1 hat.

 “I told you I wouldn’t.” Max said. You rolled your eyes but smiled, taking a seat next to him. Lewis walked in shortly after, taking his seat in the P3 chair. He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you into a side hug.

“Congrats. You’re picking up where I left off, kid.” He said.

 “I’m coming for your spot as Mercedes' golden child.” You told him. 

“I’d like to see you try.”

Stepping on to the top step of the podium felt like a surreal moment. Graciously accepting the first place trophy, the cheers almost sounded deafening as you hoisted it high above you and when your national anthem came, you smiled and mouthed the words with a smile on your face. And when the time finally came to pop the champagne bottle, you didn’t hesitate in spraying the two world champions while letting yourself get drenched as well. Who knows when you’ll be back up here, but you were here today. As you let yourself get sprayed with champagne, you soaked up the moment, feeling both the adrenaline and pure happiness as you met the eyes of smiling faces from your team down below, including George. As you stood on the top step, you could say with certainty that you were proud of yourself.

[nwjws]

when you break something important to him - yjw 🎐

; pairing - idol!jungwon x gf!reader

; synopsis - you didn't mean to break jungwon's ipad, and he didn't mean to let all his stress and anger out on you.

; tags - fluff, angst? one shot, ; warnings - swearing, jungwon gets pretty mad, but he also ends up begging for your forgiveness, not proofread so there may be typos/grammar errors and other things i missed

; wc - 2.1k

; author's corner! this was requested! not my best work, but i hope u enjoy! :)

you're in deep shit.

staring at the broken screen of your boyfriend's ipad, you know you're in trouble.

with jungwon's schedule packed with practice and shows, you decided you wanted him to come back to a clean and tidy home. so you used the spare key he'd given you to enter the boy's dorms and do them a favour.

upon opening the door, you were met by the sight of clothes spread around the floor, piled on top of each other. unwashed dishes sat in the sink, and- is that a receipt from something sunghoon bought two months ago?

yeah, you had your work cut out for you.

taking a deep breath in, you mentally prepare yourself for the next hour or two.

you got through it though, and seeing the place get cleaner made you feel proud of yourself. it's like the dorms suddenly increased in space, with the lack of clothes and displaced furniture littering the rooms.

you only had to polish the surfaces though. so you'd been wiping the dining table absent mindedly, thinking about how jungwon would react once he saw the place. maybe you could even pull a few kisses out of him.

but you should have paid more attention, and you would have noticed his ipad sitting on the side of the table.

the device fell to the tiled floor with a loud crack, having fallen on its corner before flopping onto it's screen. you'd knocked it off the edge.

a gasp escapes you, and you quickly knelt down to inspect the damage.

the corner had been scratched, the damage seeping into black at the corner of the actual screen. a crack striked through the screen, and colourful lines lit up rather than the lockscreen when you turned it on.

god, how did it even manage to get that bad? you hadn't thought the fall was that bad at first. clearly you made a misjudgment.

panic seized through you as you realised how important the device was to your boyfriend, using it in his practices almost every day. and now it was sitting in your hands, broken and unusable.

your hear the door unlock and voices filtering in.

perfect timing, you groan in your head.

"oh- y/n?" you hear jungwon's voice shout in surprise, the happiness in his voice making you apprehensive.

"hi..." you greet him weakly, trying to hide the broken ipad behind your back.

"wow, you cleaned up the place?" riki gasped. "it's amazing!"

"i wish i had a girlfriend who'd do this for me," heeseung chuckles, placing his bag on the table.

"oh my god, what's this?" you hear sunoo gasp from behind you.

you quickly spin around, turning to look at him, while the device stayed behind your back. you and the boy stare at each other with wide eyes, and you're about to say something, when jungwon speaks up.

"y/n... what happened here?"

only then do you realise that you'd forgotten jungwon was right behind you after turning to face sunoo.

"i... accidentally knocked it off the table..." you admit hesitantly. "it happened just before you guys entered."

"ah..." jungwon sighed, taking the ipad from your hands.

you gulped as you watched him check the device, before deeming it completely useless, seeing as it couldn't even show the screen.

he gave heeseung a look, who then signalled the others to go to their rooms. they didn't want to see their leader angry after a long and tiring day on stage.

"look at this... do you even realise how stupid that was? how am i supposed to practice tomorrow?" jungwon says to you, pinching his nose bridge.

"i know... i'm so sorry. i should have been more careful."

"yeah you have! i just wanted to come home and rest today, you know? but now i have something else to deal with after a busy day."

"i'll buy you a new one," you offer.

"no, i just- i don't want to talk about this right now. not to you," he shakes his head and turns away, opening his phone to text his manager. "it might have been better if you never came in the first place."

you're shocked. you understood that he had a tiring day dancing - that's why you wanted to try and lift some weight off his shoulders. but is he seriously disregarding your own efforts?

"are you being for real right now?"

"yes i am, why wouldn't i be?" he challenged. "i just spent all day on stage, using up all my energy, and i come home just wanting to sleep but instead i have another problem to deal with?!"

"i just wanted to help you!"

"i didn't need your help! it did less for me than you thought," he shouts.

"you aren't the only one working your ass off all day! i also have my own job, and still decided to go here straight after to clean up the dorm - which, by the way, was so messy?! it's like you guys don't know how to clean up after yourself."

"you know we don't have time! isn't that why you wanted to help?"

"oh, so you're twisting my words on me now, huh? i spent two hours cleaning the floors, the dishes, i even washed the clothes just laying around! you seriously didn't have enough time in your packed schedule to just put a piece of clothing back in your closet? you just let it pile up like garbage!" you huffed out.

"if you're just gonna shout at me, leave! you know how much this is going to set me back? if you didn't break my ipad i could easily do my work with no problem," he yells at you.

"i can't believe you right now. you're letting a stupid device - which i obviously broke by accident allow you to ignore everything else i did? to get in between us?" you stare at him with exasperation in your voice. you want to cry, and it physically hurts having to stop the sobs from escaping your throat.

"what?" his tone shifts from an angry to a more dejected one.

"i know your ipad is important, and i had planned to get you a new one because of it. i just wanted to take a burden off your back. but if i'm clearly not doing enough, then i guess i wasted my time here."

you pick up your own belongings and make your way towards the exit.

"wait-" he grabs your wrist, but you shake him off.

"i'm leaving, like you asked. sleep well jungwon, you clearly need it."

.

jungwon hadn't left you any missed calls or texts the next day. and you hadn't really expected him to.

in your time dating him, you had learned that it was best to give him some time to process things. then you'd start pestering him to talk about it after a day or so - you two always came out of your arguments stronger this way.

by the time his first attempt at talking to you again came - a call at 10pm, of all times - you decided. decided that you wouldn't make this easy for him, not when he made it hard for you the other night.

so you ignored the call. sat and stared at your screen, waiting for him to stop.

when he did, you turned your phone off and watched some new series on your tv until you fell asleep peacefully.

the next morning, you woke up and found that your boyfriend had tried to call you five more times, but went right to voicemail since your phone was off. you also received the 20 messages he had sent.

still, you resisted the urge to reply, and went off to the store.

again, jungwon tried calling you throughout the day, when he presumably had breaks during practice. every time your phone lit up and rang that familiar tone, your fingers itched to press answer and accept his apology and offer for a date out on the town. but you persisted in your resolve to keep him on his toes. he's going to have to grovel for your forgiveness.

after picking out a new ipad, you paid and left the store with the box in your hands. you fished your phone out of your pocket and finally turned your phone off again, so his incessant calls would stop disturbing your peaceful shopping (read: everyone was giving you weird looks for not answering the ringing of your phone).

someone should give you an award for not giving into your strong urges to do so.

looking at the time, you think jungwon's probably leaving practice now. no doubt he'd find you soon, if he wasn't already on the way.

is it unfair? you ask yourself, but you know the answer is no. jungwon had been completely unreasonable during the argument. you understood he was tired and how important the tablet was to him, but it didn't give him an excuse to overlook everything else you did. to shout at you like that, over something stupid like a cracked screen, none the less.

okay... maybe it was more than a cracked screen. you should apologise for it again.

"y/n!" ah, there he is.

you turn to see the face of your lovely boyfriend, who's been chasing you all day.

"jungwon." he ran up to you, panting, but not giving himself time to breathe when he took your hands in his.

"please, y/n. i'm sorry, really," he started, staring at you with those wide, beautiful eyes. "i know i was harsh, and it was stupid. you did so much for me, a big favour, and i had the audacity to react like that. over an ipad!" he laughed.

"i'm literally the biggest idiot on earth. in the whole universe. you're amazing, you know? i feel like you give me way more than i give back to you. so i want to show you how sorry i am.

"let's go watch the latest movie at the cinema tomorrow. it's on me. and then, i'll ask for some time off so we can go to that butterfly garden 20 minutes away - i'll try to catch some for you. not that they'd be as pretty as you, though."

you watched as he gradually lowered to his knees, looking up at you with pleading eyes. you quickly pulled him back up, shaking your head.

"don't- don't beg for my forgiveness," you sigh. "i understand. i'm sorry too, for breaking your ipad. so i got you this-" you handed him the bag that held his new ipad. his jaw dropped as he took it from you, gaping back at you.

"thank you..." he trailed off softly. in disbelief.

"this doesn't mean i forgive you just yet, though," you harrumphed. "you'll have to work harder. that butterfly garden does sound nice."

jungwon smiled and followed as you began walking away, arms folded.

"i'll bring you to that cat cafe downtown," he said, trying to take your hand in his, but you refused.

"even if you're allergic to them?"

"i'll just take my meds," he shrugged nonchalantly. "as long as you're happy. i know you love their little calico."

you gasp, remembering the adorable cat from the cafe. "i miss him so much! can we go now?"

"you have your own cat! me!" he pouted, going in front of you to stop you.

"well, it seems like my 'own kitty's' been misbehaving," you rolled your eyes playfully.

"i know, i know! i'm sorry. i'll bring you there right now."

jungwon called for a driver, who picked you two up and dropped you off at the cat cafe.

you failed to keep your snickers to yourself as you watched him sit in your booth, sniffing and rubbing at his (now red) nose, while you played with the cute little cats.

the corners of your mouth tug upward when you see him open the case you had bought, which you had customised at the store to have your lipstick stains all over it. he immediately ran to you and snaked his arms around your waist, hoisting you up into the air, and spinning you around while shouting 'thank you, i love you'.

"i love you too," you laugh as you kiss him on the cheek, leaving another mark on his face, identical to those on his new ipad's case.

; perm taglist - @lovelovelovebts

[olsenmyolsen]

Fallout

master list

dark master list

Fallout/Marvel AU (Gender Neutral Reader X Wanda Maximoff)

Summary: You and your wife, Wanda Maximoff, are finally living your dream life in WestView. It was perfect until the bombs fell.

Word Count: 1.3K

Content: Fallout TV Show and Video Game references. Not a happy ending. I wrote this in like one hour.

Yakety Yak played from the tiny radio resting on the end table next to the couch as Wanda Maximoff, dressed in a red A-line skirt and Oxford shirt, reading through a lifestyle magazine her neighbor Agnes had lent her.

"Wow, is the death rate of single men really that high?" Wanda quietly questioned to herself before you came in through the front door. Sweating and out of breath.

"Gosh, it's a scorcher out there!" You said as you huffed and puffed in the middle of the entryway to the house. Wanda smiled at your voice and rose. "Let me grab you some water, dear." You smiled as she whizzed by you. Her perfume and infectious personality making you feel hotter all over.

"Honey?" Wanda pulled you from your thoughts as she handed you a tall glass of water. You accepted it and chugged the whole thing before handing it back to Wanda, who only took a single kiss as a form of payment.

"So I take it the lawn is done?" Wanda asked as she came back from the kitchen. You nodded. "It's perfect. Way better than Norm's." You smiled with a goofy grin while Wanda shook her head and chuckled at your stupid rivalry. "I'm sure it is." Wanda stepped behind you and started to push you to the back room. Where your bedroom was. "Now, why don't you take a shower so that way when I kiss you again, I'm not worried about getting a grass stain!"

Wanda was proud of her joke and let the inviable audience loudly laugh at that one. You playfully rolled your eyes and accepted it, but not before reaching out and grabbing your wife's hand.

"You know a shower is only fun if I have help?" You made your eyebrows bounce. Wanda smirked. "Really? You managed yesterday without help, so I think you'll be just fine." She scrunched her nose and began moving you once again. You went to reply, but the doorbell interrupted you. "Shower!" Wanda pointed back with a smile and laughed at your pouty face. But yet you retreated and went to take a shower as Wanda answered the door to a man dressed like a salesperson.

"Hello is this the Maximoff residents?" Wanda clasped her hands over themselves in front of her. "Yes, it is." The man was holding a clipboard and looked at it as he began marking some stuff off. "Okay, great! And there are two of you, correct?" Wanda nodded as she looked over the man.

Who was he?

"I'm sorry, but who are you? Who are you with?" Wanda asked as the man lifted his eyes to her with a smile. "Oh, I'm sorry. Please forgive me." He stuck his hand out. Wanda took it gingerly. "My name is Steve Rogers and I'm here with an opportunity for the future!"

The man was a mix of nervousness and overzealous.

"The future?" Wanda questioned as she looked the man over. Steve cleared his throat before speaking up. "Why yes, Ma'am. You see, Vault-Tec is the foremost builder of state-of-the-art underground Fallout shelters."

Wanda tilted her head with her eyebrows scrunched. She had heard of Vault-Tec, but why was a salesperson at her door? "Vaults?"

Like safes? Wanda wondered.

Steve nodded. "Yes Vaults! Luxury accommodations for you and..." He looked down at his clipboard. "Y/n Maximoff to wait out the horrors of nuclear devastation." Wanda's eyes went wide. "I'm sorry!?"

Steve kept going.

"If you haven't noticed, Ma'am, excuse my language, but this country has gone to heck in a handbasket. Now more than ever, people need to be prepared. The big kaboom is inevitable. Sooner than you may think. If you catch my drift." He said the last part softer and quieter. But he said it with a smile.

Wanda took a step back.

Steve noticed. "Now, now, I know you're a busy woman, so I won't take too much more of your precious remaining time. I'm here to tell you that you and your partner have been selected and pre-approved for our own local Vault. Vault 89!"

Wanda seemed a little surprised but nodded and smiled. She didn't like the feeling that was turning in her.

"Wow, well, thank you!" Wanda politely said while Steve nodded and tipped his hat to Wanda. "Thank you for trusting Vault-Tec with your future!" He turned on his heels and walked with a purpose off the front porch. Wanda watched as the man admired the lawn before hopping into his car.

As Wanda locked the front door, you were leaving the main bedroom. All dressed and clean. "Who was it?" You asked, startling your wife. You looked at her wide-eyed as she shrieked and composed herself before laughing. "Sorry." She said before fast walking to you and wrapping her arms around your body. Your clean smell invading her nose, making her feel better.

"No need to apologize." You replied as you held Wanda. The two of you softly swaying in the middle of the living room. "Are you going to tell me who it was, or do I have to guess?" You kissed the top of Wanda's head. "It was Vault-Tec." She said with her Sokovian accent slipping after she turned her head to face you.

"Vault-Tec? The company Cooper Howard promotes?" Wanda nods to your confused face. "Promoted. But yes. We've been selected for a Vault. Vault 89." Wanda said as she was reading your eyes. "Now, why in the hell were we selected?" You questioned, only to earn a shrug from Wanda. "Maybe only the house with the best lawn gets in," Wanda said as she couldn't hide her bright smile.

"Oh, you think you're funny?" You asked, looking into your wifes green eyes. She nodded. "I saw him admiring all your hard work before he left." She squeezed and poked your arms as she said it.

You laughed and untangled yourself from Wanda as you brought the two of you to the couch. "Well, I guess that means the Vault will be free of Norm." Wanda threw her head back and slapped your arm at your comment. "Honey!"

You chuckled before flipping on the TV. A weatherman was complaining about how hot the rest of the summer would be for WestView before a producers ran on screen and the broadcast suddenly cut. A singular tone and a screen that read Please Stand By followed.

Wanda's smile faded fast, as did yours.

It can't be.

"No, no, no," Wanda whispered as her voice broke and quivered. You immediately rose and went to the window. You didn't see anything through the shudders until it was all white.

What followed was smoke and fire.

The glass broke and sent debris flying above you as you protected Wanda.

"But this is our home!" Wanda screamed as you tried lifting her.

It was real. It was happening. Fallout was coming.

Wanda thrashed about in your arms as she didn't want to leave the house you and her worked so hard for. She has the deed that you bought hanging above her bedside table. Pictures of family scattered around the house. Your music collection and hidden snacks would be forgotten to time. You didn't want to leave either. But you needed to survive. You couldn't do this without Wanda.

"Wanda, please let's go!" You yelled as the noise outside was growing louder and more chaotic. But only one thought processes through your wifes head as Wanda escaped from your hold and runs into the bedroom. Returning out of it moments later with one thing in her hand.

With tears running down her face, she opens your hand and placed it down. "Wanda..." You flip the plastic stick over before the air left your throat. "You're..." Wanda nodded and cried harder.

She was pregnant.

Tears fell onto the carpet below your feet as you brought yourself closer and kissed Wanda.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

You did everything you could to get Wanda to the Vault that day. Through crowds of panicked people. Through the incompetent security of Vault-Tec. Through the white flash of another bomb being dropped.

The two of you made it.

But that same day was the last time you saw Wanda before she was separated from you at the Vault checkpoint.

You don't remember anything after that until today.

Time passed. She's not here anymore.

So, as the doors open and the sun blinds as you stand dressed in blue and yellow, you're prepared to find Wanda and your children. Whatever it takes.

You're prepared for Fallout.

dividers by @/benkeibear

[soffpisces]

enhypen’s reaction to your new piercing!!

enhypen hyung!line x gf!reader

warnings: needles, piercings duh, suggestive for jake’s and hoon’s, kissing, ungodly amount of pet names, uhh touching?, mdni

masterlist

heeseung- lip piercing

“okay baby, close your eyes,” you say to his sitting form on the bed whilst peaking from behind his door. you had called him before arriving at the dorm saying you had a surprise for him, and now here you two were.

he closes his eyes and gives a nervous laugh. “should I be scared right now?”

“maybe!” you tease, giggling while you make your way into the room. “okay. now pucker your lips…”

he makes an unsure face but does it anyway, knowing you wouldn’t do anything to hurt him.

you slowly bring your face closer to his and softly kiss his lips. the ring hugging your lip feels cold as it presses between the two of you.

he audibly gasps at the feeling of something that’s not usually there when he kisses you. pulling away, he takes your jaw and pulls you back so he can get a good look at your piercing.

“baby! is this real?!” you weren’t sure how he would react, but he didn’t seem like he disliked it, at least.

running your tongue over it, you giggle, “yes, silly! it’s not a prank.”

"did it hurt, baby doll?" he's instantly concerned as he thoroughly inspects your bottom lip, lightly pressing on it as he does.

"nah, not really," you mumble whilst he curiously brushes over the ring. "do you think it's cool?"

"oh baby, you're the coolest," he tells you with stars in his eyes and a gentle kiss on your lips.

jake-belly button

to put it lightly, jake was probably more excited than you for your piercing appointment. when you first told him you were planning to get your belly button pierced, he almost bounced off the walls with excitement.

"what do you think about me getting my belly pierced?" you ask him randomly one day, just chilling in his room. he instantly perks up at this, looking up from his phone and looking at you excitedly. you swear you could see his tail wagging behind him.

"baby. i would probably come in my pants." you have never seen him this serious about something... ever.

so, this is how you're here at the piercer/tattoo shop. clenching jake's fist in a death grip, as you lie down on the table.

"i feel so vulnerable right now," you say looking up at him, giggling nervously.

"it's okay, i'm here doll." needless to say, he's not very happy that the piercer is a guy and touchin' on his girl's navel (albeit professionally), but he only glares a few times before focusing on you.

“okay deep breath. 1, 2, 3- and you’re done!” the piercer is already expertly securing the jewelry in place when you realize it’s over.

“oh ouchie- you okay baby girl?” you see Jake’s worried face and notice it’s drained of color. he helps you sit up, and your breath hitches at the subtle pain as your torso moves and the sight of the pretty jewelry in the mirror.

“wow, i love it! i didn’t even feel it!” you say excitedly, admiring your new piercing in the mirror.

the grip jake had on your hand slowly loosens, and you look back to see him almost collapsing onto the piercing bench, looking like he just saw a ghost.

“holy shit, babe. you look so hot”- he says faintly, taking a shaky breath, “but i shouldn’t have watched.”

jay-conch

as jay’s girlfriend, of course you had to get the iconic conch piercing. he was actually the one that wanted you to get it first, though. you had immediately agreed because- what a cute couple activity!

“should i be expecting to pass out from the pain?” you ask him in the car as he drives to the location. your hands fiddled with a random straw wrapper, trying to keep yourself from being too nervous.

“stop looking at pain levels on reddit,” he jokingly scolds you. “you’re just gonna freak yourself out, doll.”

“what if i pee myself or like throw up on the piercer??” you knew you wouldn’t actually, but thinking of the worst case scenarios always takes the edge off.

he laughs at you and pats your leg gently. “if you do, i’m getting it on video.”

for the rest of the ride he placates your whines of worry with loud singing to “highway to hell” by ac/dc… quickly, you regret coming.

the piercer turned out to be a really cool-looking 20-something girl who smelled like weed and strawberries (you digged it). safe to say, you were in good hands, and your nerves calmed down as you all joked with each other.

“alright so, it could bleed a little so i’m just gonna put this cloth over your shirt,” she starts getting the equipment ready, “remember deep breaths and 1,2,3!”

it took every bit of two seconds to get the needle through since the cartilage is so thick, and the whole time you’re squeezing the life out of jay’s hand.

“that’s my tough girl! hurts real good right?” and goddamn, it hurt worse than you thought.

“fuck jay, why’d you put me through that,” you joke to him, letting out your breath.

the mirror is handed to you as she finishes putting the back on, and your eyes light up at the new addition. it looks actually so cute.

“yea, hurts like a bitch,” she starts, “you want me to snap a picture for you two?”

you both nod eagerly and thank her for the piercing and the picture of your two ears side-by-side. the matching jewelry was a perfect idea.

“my little mini-me looks so cute,” he coos, kissing your cheek as you both leave the shop.

sunghoon- back dermals

you honestly felt like hot shit getting these piercings and couldn’t wait to show hoon. although, you weren’t the type to boast about things like this, so you decided to nonchalantly soft-launch your new piercings hoping to get a surprised reaction from him.

for your outfit, you landed on low-waisted fold-over leggings and a slightly cropped shirt. this way, you could be comfortable just going to his dorm but also feel confident he would pay extra attention to your figure.

“so i was thinking we could just play smash bros and whoever loses has to make ramen or we could up the stakes”- there’s an audible pause in his explanation as you both walk to his room. he’s catching you by your hips before you’ve even made it through the door.

“wait- what are these?” his thumbs start caressing the skin around the jewels as he inspects your lower back.

“oh, those? i got them the other day,” you giggle, “you like them?”

“baby. you’re so”- he cuts himself off before he embarrasses himself. does he like them? what a fucking question. he’s going to ruin you!

“you don’t like them?” you pretend to pout at him. of course you knew he was actually popping a boner right now.

“if you don’t get in this room right now, i am going to take you right here, in this hallway.” pfft. does he like them. what a stupid question.

ermmm slowly becoming a hyung!line writer sorry:3 lmk if there’s any warnings i missed!!!

status: geeked and hoping u like this post❤️‍🔥

[fanficforlife]

Chapter Ten

Tate came bounding out onto the porch where you and Kayce were enjoying a cup of coffee. "I'm done. Can we go now?"

"Did you finish all of your breakfast?" Kayce asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes." Tate groaned before grabbing your hand. "Can we go now?"

You downed the last gulp of coffee and smiled at him. "I see you already have my purse so yes, we can go."

"Gator gave me the card and list for shopping."

Kayce took your empty mug from you before the two of you stood up. "You do know that it's grocery shopping, right bud?"

"Yeah. But, Violet said she gets the vegetables from the farmers market and that there are people there that make chocolates and another one that makes ice cream and-"

"I get it." Kayce chuckled as he handed you the keys to his truck. When you took them he slid his arm around your waist. "I gotta get to work. Have fun with the rugrat."

"Now's the part where you kiss. I'll be in the truck." 

You giggled while Tate ran down the steps. "I'll see you later."

"Yes, you will." Your boyfriend leaned in and kissed you long and tenderly. "Stay with me tonight."

"If you're lucky." You teased, knowing full well that you would. Since you two had started having sex, you couldn't get enough of him. And, vice versa. He made you enjoy it again after years of dreading it. He made you feel safe and loved like you were the most beautiful woman in the world. It was the best sex you've ever had. It was like you finally found your other half. He was the missing piece that fits your heart perfectly and he felt it too. He couldn't get enough of just being near you. 

He knew you would be there and grinned. "Have a good day, baby."

"You too." You rose on your toes and kissed him. "Love you."

"Love you more." 

"Violet!" 

You and Kayce laughed at his impatient son. "Gotta go. See you later." He squeezed your waist before you slipped out of his grasp. 

*

"Oh! Look at that one!" Tate tugged on your arm as he pointed to a booth that was selling cakes of all sizes, decorated in every coloured icing under the sun. 

"Wow. Those are fancy."

"I think we should stick with cookies."

You chuckled. "I think you're right. Those look like a lot of work."

"There's the vegetable ones." Tate grabbed your hand before pulling you past the baking stalls towards the fruit and vegetables. "That one has apples! Can we get some and make apple pie? Oh, and muffins? And-"

"Yes, we can get your favourite fruit. We'll have to get a box of them because I don't think one of the bags will be enough for all of the baking you want to do." You laughed and went to wait in line. The large, well-stocked stand was the one you always went to and not because it was run by two good-looking men around your age.  They weren't just one of the sweetest couples you had ever met, they were your only friends who didn't live on the ranch. Not that you went on double dates or anything. It was just nice to have a conversation about something other than cows or horses occasionally.

"Violet!" The blue-eyed one grinned when he saw you. 

"Hi, Chris." You smiled at the dark-haired man. 

"It looks like I didn't beat the rush this time."

"No, you didn't." Mark, the blonde with green eyes, answered after coming over having finished with a customer. "But, we saved a box of the best back here for ya just in case. Aside from a couple of local restaurants, the ranch is one of our biggest customers. We gotta keep ya happy."

You laughed. "You two spoil us. Speaking of us, this is Tate. Tate this is Chris and Mark. They grow the best fruit and vegetables in Montana."

"Hi, do you have any more apples?"

"Sorry, but that was the last of them," Chris said of the case the woman in front of you was carrying away. 

Disappointment filled Tate's face. "Awe, we can't make pie and muffins tomorrow."

"We do have more on the farm though." Mark smiled at the little boy. "I'll make you a deal. I'll drop off some apples for you later today if you promise to bring us some baking next time you're in town."

"Really?!"

Chris chuckled. "Really."

You placed a hand on Tate's shoulder and looked at them. "You don't have to do that. We can get some next week."

"It's no problem at all. We don't have any other plans. A drive will be nice."

"Please, Violet?"

Your eyes went back to them and they nodded. "Okay."

"Yay! Oh, are you going to have pumpkins in the fall that we can carve?"

"We will," Chris said while Mark went to help a customer. "You can come out and pick the perfect one. We're also going to have a corn maze and other games. Plus, apple cider and all kinds of treats in the little shop on the farm." 

"Oh Violet, can we go?" Tate tugged on your arm. "Dad can come and we could do the maze and play all the games and try all the treats. Then we can get pumpkins to make Jack-o'-lanterns!"

A chuckle left your lips. "I think we can arrange that."

"Yay!" The brown-haired boy turned back to the dark-haired farmer. "Violet's dad's girlfriend. He really loves her, like a lot. All he does is stare at her when she's around."

"Tate." You scolded while Chris laughed. 

Tate looked up at you with a grin. "It's true." 

A light shade of red stained your cheeks as you pulled the credit card out of your bag. "Thanks for the vegetables. Tate, we better get moving. We have to stop at the grocery store next."

"Can we stop and get chicken nuggets for lunch after?"

"I think I could go for a burger."

"Yay!" 

"And, thank you for dropping the apples off later. You've made one little boy very happy."

"You are more than welcome. See ya, Violet. It was nice meeting you, Tate." Chris smiled. 

"Bye. I can take your bag for you." Tate offered so you handed it to him. After picking up the box of vegetables, you headed back to the truck. 

*

"You look amazing, like always." Chris grinned after getting out of his truck. "One of the restaurants in town looking for some vegetables." He said of Mark who was still buckled in and talking on his cell phone. 

"What the fuck?!" Kayce, who had been standing by the barn with Rip and Lloyd, pushed passed them and stormed over. 

You blushed while he pulled you into a hug. "Thanks."

"Get your fucking hands off her." Kayce yanked him away from you and punched him. 

"Kayce!"

He ignored you and hit him again. "You're not very bright, are you? Hitting on her when I'm standing right there!" 

"Kayce, stop!" You begged but he ignored you.

"I didn't-"

"Don't fucking lie to me! I heard you. I saw you!" He tackled Chris to the ground. "Stay the fuck away from her!" 

"Kayce. Kayce!" Rip called as he and Lloyd came running over and pulled him off of Chris. 

John came out onto the porch when he heard the commotion. "What the hell is going on out here?"

"This asshole was all over Violet!" Kayce pulled against Rip and Lloyd trying to get free. 

"No, he wasn't." You had tears in your eyes as you and Mark, who had just finished his call, helped Chris up. "I met him at the farmers market a couple of months ago. Tate saw the apples he was selling this morning and wanted some, but the person in front of us got the last of them. They had more at the farm and were nice enough to drop some off."

Kayce's face went white. The two farm hands let him go and his shoulders slumped. "Letty, I-"

"I'm sorry, Chris. I'm so sorry." 

"It's okay." He said with a soft smile. "I'll grab them. They're just in the back."

John came down the steps. "I'm sorry for my son's behaviour. We'll get them." He nodded to Rip and he went over and grabbed the box of apples out of the truck box. 

You handed Chris the money you owed him. "I'm really sorry."

"Don't worry about it."

"The apples look great." John held his hand out and Chris shook it. When they parted, the farmer found a hundred-dollar bill in his hand. He was about to hand the money back but John stopped him. "No, I insist. I'm sorry again and so is my son."

"Y-yeah. I'm sorry." Kayce apologized quietly. 

Chris nodded at him before giving your arm a squeeze. Mark did the same before they got in their truck.

The second they started driving away Kayce started walking up to you. "Letty."

You stepped back when he reached out for you, memories of Nick and his jealousy filling your head. "Gator wanted me to tell you that dinner's ready." A stray tear slid down your cheek as you turned and went inside. 

*

Everyone walked into the dining room while you set the last dish of food on the table. They sat down, joining Tate who had been upstairs washing his hands. 

You picked your plate and cutlery up off the table. "Hey, where are you going? Aren't you eating with us?" Tate asked. When his summer holidays started he insisted you start eating with them. The rest of the family had agreed so Tate picked your spot at the table, between him and Kayce.

"I'm not hungry. I'm going to get a head start on cleaning up so the kitchen will be ready for pie making tomorrow." He let out a cheer and you gave him a small smile before disappearing into the kitchen. 

After setting your clean dishes down, you gripped the edge of the countertop. Your mind was a mess as you stared at your reflection in the window. The darkening evening sky made it easy to see Kayce walk into the room. 

"Letty."

Your eyes went to your hands as he slowly made his way over, stopping behind you. 

"Letty, I'm sorry. I just heard him-then he touched you and-"

"I would never cheat on you." You stated quietly while continuing to stare at your fingers, which turned white from their grip on the countertop. 

"I know you wouldn't. I just...I'm scared." His hand hesitantly reached out, his fingers running down your arm. When you didn't pull away he closed the distance. "I'm scared you're going to find someone better. You're perfect and I'm...me. I have anger issues. I'm trying and failing at raising my kid. I love you so much it scares me. Tate loves you." His other hand went to your other arm and he leaned in, resting his forehead against the top of your head. "I'm sorry, baby. I'll do whatever you want me to. Please, forgive me."

You turned to face him. Your eyes didn't meet his though, they watched your fingers as they came up and fidgeted with one of the buttons on his shirt. 

"Letty?"

"Please...please, don't turn into him."

His hands came up and cupped your face. When he tilted it up he saw the tears pooling in your eyes. "Never, baby. Never." He leaned in and kissed you as a few tears spilled over. "I'll work on it, getting angry, jealous. I promise." You nodded. "And, I'll go into town tomorrow and apologize to him again."

A small smile pulled at your lips as you nodded again. "You should go eat before it gets cold."

"You're not going to?"

"I'm not that hungry. I'll grab something later."

"I'll grab something later too then. Do you want to wash or dry?" He grinned and picked up a dish towel. 

"Well, since you already have the towel, I'll wash." You turned and started filling the sink with water. Kayce's arm slid across your stomach and pulled you back against him. You stayed like that until the sink was full. 

After turning the tap off, he held you tighter. "I really am sorry."

"I know." Your hands slid across his arms before hugging them. "Chris and Mark know too. A few weeks ago when I saw them at the grocery store. We went for coffee while they were waiting to go to an appointment. They're really nice and they've heard about you and your family, the ranch. They know that you were in the Navy and about how much I mean to you." You looked at him in the reflection. "Mark used to be in the army so he knows that PTSD can affect you in different ways."

"Getting angry...I'm trying."

You leaned into him, "I know. You're doing a lot better."

"Except when it comes to you. What you've been through, your ex..." there was a tick in his jaw. "I promised to never let anything happen to you again. I just take it too far sometimes. I'm working on it. I really am trying."

You turned in his arms and wrapped yours around his neck. "I can tell. Everyone here can." Your lips pressed against his. "Now let's get these dishes done."

"Yes, ma'am." He said when you went back to facing the sink. He didn't move though. 

When his lips brushed against the spot where your neck and shoulder meet, you giggled. "Kayce."

He smiled against your skin. "Yes?"

"It's going to be pretty hard for you to dry these pots when you're standing there."

"I suppose you're right." His teeth gently nipped at the delicate spot and a small moan left your lips. He quickly spun you, crashing his lips against yours. When he pulled away the smirk that you loved spread across his face. 

You shoved him away with a giggle before focusing on washing the pots and pans Gator used to make dinner. Kayce settled in next to you, drying the dishes you set in front of him. A comfortable silence filled the room, only broken up by the conversations and laughter going on in the dining room. 

*

Once the dishes were done and dinner had been cleaned up, you went to the foreman's house. Tate had wanted to go to bed, even though there were still forty-five minutes before his usual bedtime. He was beyond excited about making pie for the first time and wanted to go to bed early so tomorrow would be here sooner. While Kayce tucked him into bed and read him a story, you went to wait for him in his bedroom. 

"Baby?"

You could hear the door shut behind him so, after turning the water off for the bathtub, you stepped out of the bathroom wearing nothing but one of his shirts. 

His eyes slowly drank you in. "Damn, you look good." 

A light shade of red crept across your cheeks as he closed the distance between you in two long strides. You unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it off his shoulders to the floor, followed quickly by his jeans. All while your lips stayed glued to his. 

His hands ran up your thighs and when he got to your hips they paused, finding no underwear to pull down. He smirked against your mouth before picking you up and carrying you to bed. 

"Mmm," you hummed as he kissed his way down your neck. Your hands found his waist and started to tug on the waistband of his boxers. 

After what he said to you in the kitchen about not turning into your ex and knowing he meant it, you needed him. And, he needed you just as bad. Once his boxers were down far enough he thrust into you. You gasped at the sudden fullness and when he did it again your eyes closed. "Oh, god."

His teeth bit down on your shoulder as he continued to move in and out of you. It wasn't long before your back started to arch off the bed as he kept hitting just the right spot over and over again. As you started to fall over the edge his lips met yours, swallowing your breathy moan and you melted into each other, falling together. 

Once your racing heartbeat returned normal, you slid out from under him and got off the bed. 

"No," he groaned and grabbed your hand. "I mean, the view is amazing but..." Your cheeks darkened and he grinned, sliding to the edge of the bed and pulling you onto his lap. "God, you're adorable."

"Stop." You turned and buried your face into his shoulder while the shade of red on your cheeks got even brighter. 

"Never," his chest vibrated with a chuckle. 

"Come have a bath with me?"

"I'm not much of a bath person but if you're in there with me I think I can make an exception. Lead the way, beautiful."

You slid your hand into his and made your way into the bathroom. "When I filled it I used scalding water so it should have cooled off enough by now." He got into the still bubbly water and you sunk across from him, closing your eyes. 

"Letty?"

"Hmm?" You opened your eyes when he stayed quiet. "Hey," after seeing his glassy eyes you went over and straddled his lap, taking his face in your hands, "what is it? What's wrong?"

"Why- I keep fucking up but you keep staying. You are goddamn perfect and could easily get any man you wanted. Why do you stay with me? After what happened before dinner-"

Seeing him so down made your heartache. "Because you are an amazing man and an even better father. Kayce, Tate looks up to you more than you know. He always talks about how much fun he has when he gets to help you around the ranch. He wants to be the foreman just like you when he grows up." Your thumbs ran along his jaw. "You went through a lot in the Navy, saw a lot. It changes a person. I didn't know you before you enlisted. I know you now. I fell in love with the man who came back from the war, with who you are today." He looked down, still ashamed. You tilted his head back so he would look at you. "You make me happy. You make me feel safe. There is no one else in the world I would rather be with. We can and we will get through anything. I love you, Kayce." 

"I am not worthy of you." 

A smile formed, "It's a good thing you're wrong and I'm right."

"You think so?" He finally smiled back, a small one but it was still there.

"I know so."

His arms engulfed you and crushed you against him. "I love you, Violet."

"I know. I love you." When he let you go you slid back to your spot. "Do you have a lot of work to do tomorrow? Tate wants to make pie and muffins. Mark and Chris said they would drop the apples off in exchange for some baking." 

"The farmers market is done at 2:00 pm, I'll have my stuff done by then. The three of us could go into town. Maybe go for coffee with them after? Tate keeps talking about the new playground they built by the farmers market."

You smiled, "Tate would love that. Chris and Mark would too." 

He nodded before finally lying back and relaxing, his fingers going back to mindlessly running up and down your knee. "I could get used to this. It's actually pretty nice." 

"I told you it wasn't that bad."

"You're right again." His crooked smile formed.

You watched him as he closed his eyes and rested his head back, admiring not only how handsome he was but how great of a person he was. Most men wouldn't have talked about their feelings like he did let alone go have coffee and talk to the man they just attacked. Whether he believed it or not, he was an amazing man and you were the luckiest woman in the world.

___________________________________________

Tag List: @alisbackalleybbq @a-beaverhausen @chloe-skywalker @wabi-sabi1090 @saintnourah

If you want to be added to the list just let me know :)

[luvfy0dor]

“Before it Dies on The Display ♡⁠˖” Bsd x GN!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

╰┈➤ Dazai Osamu, Chuuya Nakahara ✧

Warnings; None!

Description; Actual drabbles about Dazai and Chuuya getting you flowers ♡⁠˖

A/n; Hey y'all, sorry I was gone for a solid eight days, I had a bunch of swim meets this week and practice and stuff, I'm sure y'all get it. Requests are being worked on; I feel bad asking for them and taking literally more than a full week to do the simplest stuff. Sorry again 3:

Dazai Osamu ♡

• Dazai buys you flowers, often cool colored ones. He doesn't often get roses unless you specifically request it; he opts for more unique and exotic flowers if obtainable. He really loves wowwing his partner and standing out from others.

ೃ⁀➷

You had planned to go on a date with your boyfriend, but he was running relatively late right now. You stood in the doorway of your home, arms crossed as you leaned back against the frame. Your clothes were well put together, fitting for the fancy restaurant that you were treating him to. It really didn't take long for him to pull into your driveway though, the headlights piercing the darkened evening.

He quickly opened the door and stepped out, his arms behind his back. You knowingly grinned as you uncrossed your arms and shut the light off, closing and locking the door behind you. He sped up his pace, careful not to reveal the long flower to you until you met in the middle of the paved path to your doorstep. "Good evening, my dearest." He says smoothly, a small grin pulling at the corners of his lips. He leans in to place a peck on your own with his arms still held behind him. Your noses bumped together, making you laugh a little. "Are you ready to go?" You ask Dazai, him immediately shaking his head. "Almost! I just have a gift for you first." He says. "Any guesses?"

"Hmmm....I dunno, a yacht?" You playfully reply. "Better! I've brought you an orchid, darlin'!" He says, pulling the potted plant out from behind his back and handing it to you. "Dazai, you never fail to surprise me, this is so beautiful!" You say, grinning and taking in the beauty of the dainty flower. He kisses your cheek and grins with his hands now on your shoulders. "A beautiful flower for an utterly stunning person." He whispers, leaning in to peck your lips again. You return it pleasantly and turning to your door, getting your keys out again so you could place it inside. "Thank you, Dazai, really. They're so beautiful." You smiled from ear to ear before placing the plant inside. He hummed, following you inside and taking your hand; bringing it to his lips for a soft and sweet kiss. "Ofcourse my darling! Since I've brought you flowers, you can pay for dinner, yeah?" You roll your eyes and ruffle his hair, pushing his face away. "That has been predetermined." You tease, grabbing his hand and leading him out the door, ready for a sweet and romantic night with your lover.

Chuuya Nakahara ♡

• Chuuya, unlike Dazai, loves buying his partner roses. He feels like it's such a tried and true method of making his partner swoon for him. They're so romantic to him, especially red roses.

ೃ⁀➷

Chuuya was walking down the streets of Yokohoma, heading towards his favorite cafe. He noticed that he had passed a flower shop on his way, only coming to realize that it must've been brand new as he stood in line to order. You immediately crossed his mind, his subconscious telling him how happy you would be to receive flowers from your beloved boyfriend. He decided that he'd stop on his way back; you deserved flowers more than anyone with all the hard work you do, even though he's offered to let you stop working and take care of all your needs. He loved how dedicated you were, and for that he felt that you deserved all the flowers in the world!

He exited the cafe, walking up the street this time. He made it to the flower shop, opening the door and immediately being greeted by strong floral scents. One of the florists offered to help him build a bouquet and he immediately accepted, wanting to create the perfect bundle of flowers for his lover. They worked with one another to create an arrangement of reds, pinks, and whites, tying it all together with kraft paper and ribbon. He payed and thanked the worker, returning out onto the streets once again. He was able to go home early today, a smile on his face as he thought about you.

When he reached home, he twisted his key into the lock and pushed the door open with his foot, his arms filled by the bouquet. It was utterly massive, and you had a look of confusion on your face when all you could see was the brown paper instead of your boyfriends head. Once he closed the door again, he held it out for you. "A new flower shop opened and uh, I thought you'd like some roses today." He said with a grin, his hair falling on one side of his neck as it usually did. You smiled and took them into your arms, pulling Chuuya in too. "Thanks, babe, you're real sweet to me, you know that? You deserve this treatment too." You say softly, brushing his bangs away from his face. "Yeah, yeah, but that's not important right now. Do you like em? If you don't I can get you another bouquet, no need to hide the truth." He says sweetly, rubbing your upper arm. You immediately shook your head. "No! No, no, I love them!" You reassure him, staring at the beautiful flowers, their pedals smooth and unbroken. "Promise you're not lying to me? My love only deserves the best, you know that." He asks with a smirk, pulling you in for a gentle kiss. "Promise." You say, grateful to have such a thoughtful and willing to please lover.

A/n; Depending on inspiration in the next couple days regarding requests I'll post a Fyodor and Nikolai ver of this. I thought this up on the bus ride back from my meet which felt like a fever dream bro some kid did 100 butterfly in 1:06. WHAT THW FRICK U GUYS

[purpleprincessonfyre]

Halloween Night - Trick or Treat? Liane's POV

Liane X Ethan @ethan-lensherr

Features: Liane Felton, Ethan Lensherr, Belladonna, Eleanor Lane (Bella's GF) and Mia Parker @ask-missparker

Location: Avengers Tower, Halloween in NYC

Liane was busy touching up her lipstick in the mirror of her vanity, smiling at her reflection as Ethan walked up behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders. "Looking good, Mistress of Evil," He smiled as Liane looked up at him. "I think we look amazing, but these horns are not comfortable at all." She sighed, adjusting her headpiece. Ethan grinned, hooking on his feathered cloak.

"I suit this look, the all black, the cloak, the hair? Who knew dressing as Maleficent and Diaval would be so fun?" He replied as Liane smiled. "I am sad Bella didn't want to be Aurora though.." she trailed off as Ethan snorted.

"Babe. She was never going to agree to it! And this way she gets to match with her girlfriend, so she's happy." Ethan states, rubbing Liane's shoulders soothingly. "All we have to do is make sure she doesn't terrorise any kids, she doesn't pull her idea of tricks on neighbours and doesn't set anyone's house on fire. Right?"

Liane groaned. This was Belladonna's first Halloween with her new girlfriend and every time before she'd been uninterested in Trick or Treating. But since it was Eleanor's favourite pastime on Halloween, Bella couldn't say no to her. And in Liane's experience, Bella had a habit of taking things very literally.

"Right. Just don't let her take any real knives out with her. Fury would not be happy, ditto Hill." Liane reminded as Ethan shuddered. "I still remember the April Fools incident...but relax. Maybe having Nora there will mellow her out. Just a smidge. Have hope Lia, okay?" Ethan smiles, kissing her on her pale, contoured cheek. Liane smiles back, her fake fangs gleaming. "Alright. And if all goes well, maybe we can treat ourselves tonight..." she muttered softly, stroking his cheek gently as a naughty grin crossed her lips. "Of course, my Queen."

They were interrupted by JARVIS who popped up over their alert system. "Miss Felton, a young lady wishing to see Belladonna is at the door. Shall I let her in?" He asks as Liane gets up, dusting herself down. "Yes JARVIS, thank you." She replies, heading to the door to greet Eleanor, dressed in a long blonde wig, a washed out blue dress and white pointed boots with little fingerless gloves and a purse that looks like a white rabbit, smiling.

"Hey Miss Felton! Wow, you look amazing! Love the teeth and horns, is Bella ready?" She asks, stepping inside. "She's just in her room, come on I'll show you. So you're the Tim Burton version I assume?" She asks, gesturing to the outfit as Nora beams, lifting her skirt and doing the silly dance with her feet from the film. "Alice Kingsleigh, Bells did mention having a crush on the actress when she saw the movie." She replied, following after her to Belladonna's door, knocking on it carefully.

"One minute!" Came the reply as Nora smiled. "I'm guessing Mr Lensherr is Diaval then?" She asked as Liane nodded. "Yup, feathers and all. But don't ask him to do the accent, he gets embarrassed. And he does not sound Irish." She chuckled as the door opened and Belladonna stepped out, dressed in a darker blue dress with a white pinafore, patterned with symbols, wearing black and white hooped tights, tall black buttoned boots, her bangs styled to the sides and covered in fake blood carrying an ornate knife as Nora squealed in delight.

"Alice Liddell! You look so beautiful! And the blue suits you." She smiled as Bella smirked. "Any costume that lets me wear fake blood and play a mental patient is worth it in my books." She replied, admiring Nora's costume. "The detail is impeccable, you even lined the inside of the skirt with stripes like in the film costume. I knew you'd suit this look well." Bella stated as Nora grinned. Liane smiled, admiring her terrifying daughter's look.

"Very you. So this one is from a video game?" She asked, pointing out the knife and blood. "American McGee's Alice: Madness Returns. A story where Alice is a mental patient discharged from the hospital into the care of an orphanage and has to make it through Wonderland alive in order to face her trauma learn about her twisted past. I played it last year at Nora's when our study sessions became more like...hang outs." Bella finished. Nora grinned. "I always hated horror games but when I wanted to find excuses for Bella to hang out, I bought it for her after she'd told me all about how she wished Wonderland was more twisted and psychedelic."

Liane sighed happily. "Okay that was adorable. Now Bella you know the rules, right? And please tell me that knifes fake." She said as Belladonna handed over the knife. "I assume you found a plastic, vacuum molded alternative?" She replied as Liane handed her a replica knife, painted to look bloody. "You're lucky I know you so well. And I think it's actually acrylic? Some guy with a 3D printer makes those kinds of props for cosplayers." Liane explained as Bella handled the prop.

"Almost as good as the real thing. And you need not worry. I understand the concept of Trick or Treating now. But I am disappointed by the fact tricks are now frowned upon." Bella stated as Ethan walked up. "Bella your idea of a trick is not the same as anyone else's. Trust me, we are doing everyone a favor." He replied before kissing her cheek smiling. "You both look great. But yes the rules are, don't stay out past 10pm, if it gets to 10 and you aren't home either stay at Nora's or bring her here, whichever is closest, do not terrify the little children and do not threaten anybody. Please?" Liane pleaded as Belladonna rolled her eyes, sighing. "You take all the fun out of the best holiday of the year. But fine. For you." She replied as Liane's shoulders relaxed.

"Good. And have fun! We love you and be safe." Liane finished, squeezing Bella's shoulder kindly as the two headed out into the night as Mia walked up from behind, her eyes narrowed. "You two are sure this is fine?" She says, raising an eyebrow. Ethan laughs but nervously. "Sure! What could go wrong?"

A few hours later...

"Shall we retire to the bedchamber, my Queen?" Ethan smiles, holding out his hand to Liane's as she chuckles. "I thought you'd never ask..." she replies, her eyes gleaming as her cell starts to ring from an unknown number. Frowning, she picks up. "Hello?" She says and her face drops as she answers to the voice and what she hears. "She did what? I- no no Officer that won't be necessary, I am on my way right now, just hang on." She hangs up and looks at Ethan and everyone else who looks dumbfounded. "Lia what's happened?" Mia asks slowly as Liane rushes to grab a coat. "Bella's been arrested."

Stay tuned for Belladonna's POV where you find out just how our melancholy girlie got into this mess! Hope you enjoyed 🎃��� oh and moots feel free to add your own POV of this Avengers Tower Halloween

Tags: @jackiequick @gcthvile @blueboirick @meiramel @aidanxsophxoxo @askstevella @ask-starrk @the-x-ladiesofnyc @therealdaydreamstark @marvelsfavoriteuncle @luna-d-marsh @rickb-chaos @sci-fi-lexcon @elzabeth-stark @wizzzardofoz @trulysummersprivate @missstrawbs2001

[miyuhpapayuh]

23. Would it be okay?

“Hey, sunshine!" Claire greets Stevie as she slides behind the counter to put her apron on. Another white rose to put in her pink vase by her register, for the day.

"Hey, love. How are you?"

"I'm great! I see you are, too!" She pokes her side.

"A lot has happened."

"Like..." Claire trails off, waiting for her to continue.

"I went to go see my family in Cali, Rod got my name tattooed, uhh.."

“Wait, what?" Claire's eyes widened in surprise, her mouth ajar. "He got your name tatted?? Where??"

"On his neck, girl." Stevie leans back on the counter with a dreamy look in her eyes. "It looks so good."

"Wow... a chain and a tattoo! What kind of honey do you got between them thighs, gurl?" 

Stevie covers her bosses mouth.

“You're just as reckless as he is!"

Claire swats her hand and cackles, her eyes flickering toward the door as a customer walks through.

"You're safe, for now. I'm taking you to lunch and we're gonna continue this little conversation." Stevie groans, before throwing herself into work.

Three hours and a stained apron later, Stevie finishes off her coffee cake and joins Claire in her brand new white Jeep.

"Ooh, this is new!" Stevie exclaims, sliding into the cheetah lined passenger seat.

"Bought it, last week, actually!" Claire cheeses, flicking the black ice air freshener, hanging on her mirror. She turns her car on and pulls out of the parking lot.

"Black people and black ice! Jesus!" Stevie face palms.

"I had to! You don't have one in your car??"

"No... is that bad?"

"Nah. If your car smells good, you don't need it."

"Rod's got one in his car. It's the new car scent one."

"Such a man," Claire snickers.

"Same thing I said!" She laughs, folding her hands in her lap. "So, where are we going to eat?"

"Melrose's. She's got the best cuban I've ever tasted." Claire dances in her seat.

"I've always wanted to taste one. They're really good?"

"Yes!" she pats Stevie's leg. "One thing you gotta learn about me is that food is my favorite— second to Bianca, of course."

"I'm learning! How's she, by the way?"

"She's great. She went back home to see her parents and left me all alone for a week. It's so boring."

"Oh, I'm sure you make good use of your time. It can't be that bad." Stevie laughs.

"Well, how did you feel when you went out of town to go see your folks? Didn't you go by yourself?"

"Rod actually went with me." Stevie says before pursing her lips.

"Y'all make me sick. Seriously."

"I'm sorry! But, come on... you don't have anything to occupy your time??"

"Not really!" Claire frowns, "it's just me and Biscuit. Little fucker’s just as sad as I am. Bianca and I take turns calling each other, but it's not the same. I mean, I'm glad she can go see them, but I miss her."

"You're making me sad, Claire. Hopefully the week goes by quickly for you." Claire sighs in response.

༺═──────────────────────────────═༻

"I'm stuffed." Stevie says, popping another potato chip in her mouth.

"You liked the sandwich, I see." Claire laughs.

"I did! Me and pickles have a love/hate relationship, but it was tolerable. Thanks for lunch, boo."

"Anytime! Now, back to the lot that has happened..." she trails off.

"Oh boy, I knew you were gonna do that," Stevie laughs.

"I went to see my family in Cali. I haven't been there since my grandma died. So, that was something that I had obviously been putting off, but it wasn't bad and I actually ended up having a good time. They fell in love with Rod, of course. Then, we came back and got back into the swing of classes, which hasn't been too bad, either— oh! I actually dropped a bunch of them and I get to graduate early, now!"

"Really?? I'm so happy for you! You've been talking about that forever!"

"I know! It's a huge weight lifted off my shoulders, I tell you. This bachelors degree better pay off!"

"It will! I feel it!" They laugh, before falling into a comfortable silence.

"Can I ask you a question?" Stevie asks.

"Sure, wassup?"

"You ever feel like you're moving really fast in your relationship, but it feels fine at the same time?"

"In the beginning, yeah. That's kinda normal."

"Are we still considered a “new couple”, though?"

"No," Claire laughs, “you guys are basically married, at this point."

"But, where's this coming from?" She asks.

"I don't know... it's just something I've been thinking about. We've been through a lot, since the beginning of our relationship and I just don't wanna jump the gun on anything, even though I feel like we've already done that."

"Well, you guys are different, like any couple, there's different circumstances and understandings. If both of you know what it is, it doesn't matter how anybody else views the pace of your relationship. Y'all are joined at the hip and that's perfectly fine."

"You're right.”

"I know." Claire winks.

Stevie balls up a napkin and tosses it at her head.

"First and last time I ever tell you that."

༺═──────────────────────────────═༻

Finally getting off work, Stevie drags herself upstairs and plops down on her own bed, for a change.

"Ugh, I missed my bed!" She sighs to herself, reaching over to turn her lamp on. She gets up and strips out of her work clothes, throwing on one of Rod's T-shirts, fitting her like a dress.

"Alright, let's see." She grabs her notebook off her nightstand and opens up to a clear page, letting her pen glide across.

Would it be okay?

If I stayed around.

If I got comfortable, in your presence.

Slip into your shadows,

Keep you safe.

Would it be okay?

If I loved you more than life.

If I screamed it to the heavens,

Even though God, herself, already knew?

Destiny. Fate.

I can't hide it.

 Would it be—

Folding the top corner, she yawns and closes her book and lays back down, knocking out in minutes.

An hour later, she's woken up by Rod gently massaging the balls of her feet. Rubbing her eyes, she lazily stares in his direction.

"Hey,"

"You look like a little kid, when you wake up," he chuckles, bending down to kiss her ankle.

"Am I cute kid?"

"Mhm. I hope our babies look just like you." He says, making her heart skips a beat.

"Here I am, hoping they'll look like you." She laughs. "How was your day?"

"Tiring as hell. My first night closing up went smooth, but it's so much I had to do, before I could get outta there. If it wasn't worth it, I'd fight somebody." He shakes his head.

"I'm sorry, baby. Here," she pulls her feet out of his grasp and pats the middle of the bed. "I'll rub your back."

Plopping face first into her pink pillow, he makes himself comfortable. She giggles at the sight, actually grabbing her disposable camera and snapping a picture.

"Whatchu gigglin' ‘bout, girl?" His muffled voice aids her laughter.

"Nothing.”

Mounting his lower back, she starts in the middle, working out a knot on the left side. "Pressure fine?"

"Mhm.”

"Okay... I wrote another piece, today."

"Yeah? Have you decided on which one you wanna perform, yet?" He asks.

"I might just do this one. It flowed so naturally."

"Can I read it?"

"No, it's a surprise!" She whines, pressing her thumb into the base of his neck.

"Mngh. I thought I was special, babygirl?"

"Nope. That's not gonna work on me, tonight. Your special ass better be front and center, when I get on that stage."

He laughs. "I told you, I wouldn't miss it for the world. When are you planning on doing it?"

"I'm not sure, yet. Soon, though."

He nods, fully relaxing under her touch, soon falling asleep. Smiling to herself, she slides off his back and snuggles into his side, burying her face in his neck.

༺═──────────────────────────────═༻

"You really like this dude, huh?" Rod asks Tyler.

"I really do! He's so sweet." Tyler blushes.

"He better be."

"Usually I wouldn't care, cause I don't keep them around, but, I wanna do something right, this time, you know?"

"Yeah, I feel you. As long as you're happy, that's all that matters. Let him know that I fight." He points at her, while backing up.

"Will do." She salutes him. "So, does that make you like big brother or something?"

"Hell yeah! You got me in your corner, shorty."

"Thanks," she gives a soft smile, "for everything, seriously."

"You're welcome, spud." He jogs upstairs, finding Stevie on her computer.

"Whatchu doin', babe?"

"Getting back to my guidance counselor. I need to know how many credits I have, to see how many I need to graduate in February."

"Ah. Aren't you glad you listened to Tyler? You get to get outta there, super early."

"I know! I didn't even know I could graduate this early in advance, but dropping those extra classes made it possible."

"See!, instead of us leaving you, we all get to graduate at the same time." He chuckles, kissing her cheek.

"Josh and Jay are in town tonight, so I'm gonna go hang out with them for a couple hours. I'll be back before–"

"Why're you giving yourself a curfew?" She turns around in her chair, staring up at him.

"Well, I don't wanna just waltz in here, super late, I feel like that's rude."

"Well, if it were a night where I was staying home, I'd agree with you, but I've got plans, too."

"Yeah? Where you headed?"

"Back to the poetry club, so I can talk to Suga and show her my work, see when I can set up a time to perform it." 

He kneels in front of her with a smile on his face.

"Alright, my talented ball of sunshine. Be safe. Call me if you've got any problems, okay?"

"Will do," a couple quick pecks turns into a juicy kiss, leaving her giggling against his lips.

"Okay, okay! Get out, before I cuff you to my bed." He grunts.

"Shit, let me call the fellas, right now." They both laugh and stand up.

"You're so foolish."

"You encourage it, baby. But seriously, have fun. I know you're gonna get your drink on— is Tyler going, too?"

"Yeah, she's got another date, tonight. I actually gotta help her pick out an outfit. She's kinda nervous."

"Yeah, we talked, earlier. She really likes ol' dude."

"He's such a sweetheart! If you met him, you'd like him, too."

"Yeah well, as long as she's happy, that's all that matters. You two have fun tonight."

"You guys, too. Tell your friends I said hello."

"Will do. I love you." He kisses her forehead, then her lips twice more.

"I love you, more."

The pair head out of the room; Rod downstairs and Stevie into Tyler's room, where she's frantically throwing an outfit together.

"Okay, what about this? Since it's cold as shit outside, I can wear my black jeans— you know, the ones that make my butt look fantastic?” Stevie nods. “Okay those, with either the v-cut bodysuit or the purple crop top and throw my oversized jacket over it."

"Do the oversized look, that's cute!"

"Okay. Chunky heels?"

"Definitely."

"Okay, I'm gonna get ready."

"Same. I'll meet you downstairs."

༺═──────────────────────────────═༻

Stepping back into Stevie's new favorite place, she heads straight for the bar, while Tyler heads towards a table where her new boo is waiting on her.

“Have fun!” She calls after her friend.

“You too!” She calls back.

"Hey, beautiful!" Suga greets her with a hug, sitting on the stool beside her.

"Hey, girl!"

"Oooh, is that it??” She points to the book that sits on the countertop.

"It is! You wanna read it??"

"Hell yeah!"

Stevie opens up to the page and sits it in front of Suga, nervously watching her eyes dance across the page.

"Oh, Stevie..." she says, pressing a hand to her chest.

"You hate it, don't you?" Stevie frowns.

"Wha— no!! This is beautiful!"

"Really? It's not too mushy or anything?"

"Babe, you worry too much. It's perfect. I wish I had a love like this poem!" Suga exclaims, making Stevie blushes.

"Okay, stop it!"

"Seriously! I've never been jealous of words, until now."

"My cheeks are gonna fall off my face, if you don't stop!"

"Okay, I quit. When do you wanna perform it??"

"Like, within the next week or so would be great! Ya know, before I lose the nerve."

"Okay! Let me go grab Carmen. She's the owner."

"Okay, cool! Thank you!”

As Stevie's waiting to meet the illustrious Carmen, her eyes trail over to Tyler in order to get a glimpse of how well her date is going, and her jaw hits the ground at what she sees.

Chris is lifted from his seat slightly to meet Tyler's lips in a lip lock that feels steamy, even at a distance.

"Alright, now," Stevie remarks quietly as she sips her tropical lemonade.

Her people watching continues for a few moments more, taking in the melanated group of lovers and friends alike.

"Hey, Stevie," Suga catches her attention, causing her to swivel in her seat in the direction of her voice, "this is Carmen."

She's greeted with a caramel-toned woman in her mid-20s, with a head full of shocking red curls and delicate features.

"Suga's told me so much about you! It's nice to finally meet you." Her voice is just as delicate.

"Likewise," she responds. "This is definitely one of my favorite places to be."

Her smile is warm, yet lights up the room. "I'm glad. I hear you're ready to get up on that stage. Now I hope you don't mind, but Suga let me take a glimpse at the piece you're thinking about performing, and girl it's dope! Made we wanna love on somebody."

Stevie blushes a deep crimson at the compliment, chuckling softly.

"Thanks. It's unfinished actually."

"Well sweetheart, whenever it's finished you're more than welcome to a spot on our night for new talent."

Stevie has butterflies of excitement and nervousness when she hears that.

"You're serious?" Stevie asks, just to make sure this isn't some cruel joke.

"As serious as serious can get, baby doll. You got something special."

Her heart soars and her cheeks flush once again, not used to the profuse amount of love for her craft.

"I can't thank you enough, Carmen. I won't let you two down," she says, addressing the two women.

"I know," Carmen winks. She quietly excuses herself to make her rounds around the place.

Stevie thanks Suga one more time, before she decides to not be a third wheel in Tyler's budding romance and take the train back home.

She walks the easy block and a half to the nearest station, taking in the full-bodied sounds of the city that have become music to her over the years.

Descending the concrete steps, she's greeted with a scent she'll probably never get used to, muttering all the money this damn city makes, and they can't scrub the piss smell outta here.

She looks left to right, and makes sure the coast is clear. She hops the turnstile like it's a hurdle, as if the heels she wears are tennis shoes.

Her timing is impeccable as the trusty red line subway car pulls up right as the toe of her shoe hits the yellow line.

Stepping on, she thanks the man upstairs that it's not crowded. Clutching onto the pole, she quietly hums as the train starts moving.

Feeling like she's being watched, she turns her head in the direction of the perpetrator, his coal black eyes scanning her body, making her feel like she needs a shower.

Her skin prickling up with anxiety as every bad memory, attached to a man, comes flooding back to her. A chill rushes up her spine as her brain screams run.

Her eyes become trained on the doors, as the insides of her hands clam up. Her curiosity leads her eyes back towards the man. The tattoo on his hand caused her mind to race.

Her heart starts beating triple time as the train continues to take its sweet time getting to its first stop.

She can feel his eyes on her as she keeps her gaze forward.

"It's okay... we'll get off soon." She whispers to herself.

Coming to a stop, she watches a couple of people get off, before coolly walking off behind them. She peers over her shoulder, watching him flash a smirk her way but stay on the train.

As the train whizzes away into the darkness, a rush of relief comes over her as she heads towards the street. Grabbing her phone out of her purse, she calls Rod.

He picks up on the first ring. "Hey, baby. You good?"

"Yeah, I'm okay. I just— I don't know. I had a moment, I guess." She walks into the nearest corner store.

"What do you mean, a moment?"

"I had the bright idea to take the train back home and there was this guy that kept staring at me. He looked so much like John and I don't know... I just freaked out, so I got off a helluva lot earlier than I should have."

"Baby, where are you?"

"Chuey's food mart. But, listen, you don't have to come and get me. I can call a cab or—"

“For what? It's almost ten o'clock. It's too dark for you to be catching cabs, when I can just come and get you."

"But, you're out with your boys!" She sighs as she heads down an aisle, "I feel like I'd be cutting your night short."

"We can meet up, whenever. Your safety is more important to me, right now." He assures her.

"Okay."

"Ima catch y'all later, aight?... yeah, gotta get my shorty to the crib... aight, baby girl. I'm on my way."

"Alright." She hangs up and walks around the spacious store, picking up a couple snacks along the way.

Ten minutes go by, and she's standing in front of the many candy choices, when the chimes go off near the front and the sound Rod's car keys fill her ears.

Passing by a couple of people, she spots the back of his head as he searches for her. Catching up to him, she tugs on his jacket.

He turns around and the worried crease in his forehead disappears as he pulls her into his chest, a heavy sigh leaving him.

"You're smushing my snacks!" She giggles as he rocks her side to side. "Rod!"

A soft laugh escapes her as he pulls away to hold her face in his hands.

"Seems like you missed me."

"Hell yeah! I was worried about you, girl."

"I didn't mean to worry you." She frowns.

"It's okay, baby. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm glad you're here." She links her finger in his jacket pocket. "Did you speed?"

"Maybe, a little. I ain't wanna waste no time– leave an opportunity for something bad to happen, ya know?"

"Yeah,” she sighs, “thanks for coming to get me. I appreciate you."

She stands on her tiptoes, staining his lips with her gloss.

"It's never a problem, babygirl." He grabs the snacks out of her hands to carry himself.

"Let's see what we got here," he announces from behind her as she walks down another aisle. "Salt and vinegar chips— ah, the chip of choice! We got some sno balls... some hostess cupcakes. Hm, you on your period?"

"You know," she abruptly turns around, making him bump into her, "I hate that you know me that well. And, no I've got like another week, I think."

"Well, it'd be dumb if I didn't pick on something, at this point," he chuckles. "And, you think?"

"Yeah... what's today?"

"The fifteenth. I only know that, ‘cause my milk expired today."

"I hope you threw it away."

"I will, when I get home."

She scoffs. "Anyway. It usually comes on the twentieth."

"Oh, okay. Oh yeah! What did they say about you performing?"

"I'm gonna perform on their night for new talent," a cheesy smile makes its way onto both of their faces.

"That's amazing! When??" He asks.

"Friday! Can you make it?"

"Hey, I told you that I would be there. I might have to tie Lee to his chair for a few hours," he says, making Stevie roll her eyes at his antics, "but, I'll be there."

༺═──────────────────────────────═༻

For the past fifteen minutes, Stevie has been pacing back and forth, rehearsing her poem.

To say she's nervous is definitely an understatement. If it wasn't a guarantee that Rod would be able to make it to her performance, she might've went insane.

"Okay, Nikki Giovanni, you ready?” Tyler walks into her room, fiddling with the cuffs on her black button-down.

Stevie scoffs at the name. "Don't give me that much credit. You think Nikki got this nervous, before her performances?"

"Duh. Everybody's susceptible to being nervous. You're gonna kill it, alright? Don't stress.” She assures her, rubbing her shoulder.

"Thanks. How do I look?"

"Like you wanna end up pregnant, by the end of the night." 

Stevie rolls her eyes, turning back to the mirror.

"What?? You asked." Tyler defends.

"Yes. Cause, a simple “you look good” wouldn't have sufficed."

"Well, that was my way of saying it. But, okay you look so damn good, friend!  Are you ready, now?" Tyler asks, smirking at the middle finger she gave her through the mirror.

"Yeah.” She sighs, reaching for her coat and bag. “Let's go, before I hide under my bed."

“Oh my god!” Tyler cackles, pushing her out of the room and down the steps.

Fifteen minutes later, Rod heads backstage, finding Stevie knocking back a shot of Brandy. As she fixes her skirt, he slides up behind her, waving the pink roses in her line of sight.

"For you, beautiful."

The gasp she lets out makes him laugh. She turns around and throws her arms around his neck.

"Thank you, baby! And, thank God, you're here. I've been going absolutely crazy for the last hour!"

"I thought you said you weren't nervous?" He sits the flowers on the table and rubs her shoulders.

"Well, I wasn't! Until I re-realized that I'd be speaking in front of a bunch of strangers and now I'm terrified. What if I mess up? What if they don't like it, you know? What if I vomit on stage, like I did when I was younger??" She spirals, wide-eyed.

"Hey, look at me." He cups her chin, her wandering orbs lining up with his. "You're gonna go out there and do amazing. You're not gonna mess up. It's normal to be nervous. It's your first time. But, you've got this. Your poetry is phenomenal. Anybody would be a fool to dislike it."

"You really mean that?" She asks.

"Every word."

A playful pout graces her lips as she kisses him.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. Now, can I get something off my chest, right quick?" He asks with a heavy breath.

Her freshly waxed left brow raises.

"What?"

"You look so fucking good, vie.”

She blushes, instantly.

“Yeah?” Her voice came out small.

“Mm, smell good, too. Do a spin for me,” he steps away from her, watching her twirl.

Her curls bounced underneath her brown fur hat, skin shimmering in her matching off the shoulder top and pants, chunky heels to set the look off. Mascara, her signature lip and scent combo.

"Mm.. whatever you want, you can have it."

"Shut up!" She laughs as he pulls her back to him.

"I'm serious."

"Anything, huh?"

"Mhm., my car, my crib, money... last name, kids.." their lips naturally reunite in heat, squashing her nerves and almost making her forget about her whereabouts.

"Rod," her hands slide up his chest.

"Hm?"

"It's almost time for me to go on," she mumbles, giggling at his relentless pecks.

"Aight. you still nervous?"

"No, but I've gotta redo my lipstick, now." She shakes her head, wiping it off his mouth.

"My bad, shorty. I can't get enough, sometimes."

"Hey, Stevie!— oh, I'm sorry. I'll come back.

They turn to look at Suga in the doorway, before snickering.

"No, you're fine! Suga, this is my boyfriend, Rod. Rod, this is Suga."

"It's nice to meet you! I've heard nothing but wonderful things." They shake hands.

"Likewise. I appreciate you helpin' my girl out and getting her up on this stage."

"It's no problem. She's a super talented woman."

"That, she is." His gaze lingers on Stevie, making her swoon at the sight.

"So cute! I just came to tell you that we've got a couple minutes. You all set to go?"

"Yeah, let me fix my makeup, really quick." She rushes over towards her bag to reapply.

"Ima go grab my seat." he walks over and kisses the top of her head. "You're gonna do amazing."

"Thank you, baby." She smiles.

He mirrors her expression, before heading out to the front.

"Where'd you find him? He got any brothers?" Suga asks, sitting on the leather couch.

“That he does, let me find out you tryna get the hook up,” Stevie laughs, turning towards her once she's done.

“Hook me up, girl!” Suga joins in, before standing to her feet. “You ready?”

"I am! Let's do this."

༺═──────────────────────────────═༻

“Alright y'all, give it up for our next newcomer, Stevie!”

The applause makes Stevie smile as she emerges from behind the curtain and takes Suga's spot on the stage.

"Thanks," she nervously pushes a curl behind her ear. "I'm a little nervous, so bear with me. This piece is called Would it be okay? It's a personal piece of mine. I'm actually really excited to share it with y'all, so I hope y'all enjoy it." Her eyes set on Rod, sending a wink his way.

A soft light graces her physique as she calms herself and begins speaking.

Would it be okay?

If I stayed around.

If I got comfortable, in your presence.

Slip into your shadows,

Keep you safe.

Would it be okay?

If I loved you more than life.

If I screamed it to the heavens,

Even though God, herself, already knew?

Destiny. Fate.

I can't hide it.

Would it be okay?

If I was scared...

If I wanted you to hold me in your arms.

Shield me from my troubles.

Would it be okay?

If making love to you was my favorite pastime.

Your lips on mine.

Your breath on me.

Your touch.

Your taste.

Would it be okay?

If I wanted to live in your skin.

Would it be okay?

The whistles, snaps and cheering pulls her out of the locked gaze that her and Rod were locked in.

She gracefully bows and heads offstage, immediately getting pulled into a bear hug from Tyler and Suga.

"Can I just say.... wow!” Tyler claps.

"You did amazing!! I mean, I knew you had potential, but the way you commanded everybody's attention up there?? That was a sight to see." Suga praises.

"Thanks, you guys! It felt great to finally get up there. That was a rush!” She laughs.

"I think someone else enjoyed it, too." Rod clears his throat, making his way around the girls to the other side of Stevie, flowers back in hand.

"Again," he laughs, "these are for you. You did absolutely amazing." The twinkle in his eyes makes her melt.

"Thank you, baby." Grabbing the bouquet from him, she holds them close to her chest, blushing underneath his gaze.

"Ugh, this feels like high school love!” Tyler faux sobs, earning a collective sucking of the teeth from the pair.

"Go find your boyfriend and leave me alone, ty." Stevie says with a roll of the eyes.

"Ah, she's conquered her stage fright and now she's being feisty. You're on a roll, tonight." She winks.

"You two are a mess," Rod adds with a chuckle.

"Indeed. Come on, Tyler. You two can fight, later." Angel hooks their arms and leads them towards the other side of the club.

Rod leads Stevie towards their table, pulling out her chair for her. "What do you want to drink?"

"You know, cosmos have become my favorite, as of late." She cheeses.

"Comin' right up." He winks, heading towards the bar.

"Hey, pretty lady!" Chad stops at her table. "You did amazing!"

"Oh, thank you!"

"No problem. You got some serious talent."

"I appreciate that. It was nerve racking, getting up there, but I'm glad I finally did it."

"So, you gonna make this a regular thing? The crowd loved you."

"It's always been my dream!, it'd be kinda stupid if I didn't. I'm gonna talk to Carmen—"

"Consider it done. I'll run it by her and get back to you. Sound good?"

"Hell yeah!," she jumps in her seat, laughing.

"Aight, good! You know, if you start gettin' real good, we start paying you."

"Really??, that sounds amazing." Rod comes back to the table with drinks in hand, his gaze on Chad.

"Hey, man." Chad greets him.

"Wassup.," he gives a stiff nod.

"Ya girl is pressure, no denyin' it. I just came to congratulate her on her debut night."

"I appreciate y'all lettin' her shine, up there."

"A diamond shines everywhere she goes.," Stevie slightly chokes on her drink at his corniness, covering it up with a small laugh. "You two enjoy the rest of your night. I'll see you, soon." He pats her shoulder and walks away.

"What was y'all talking about?" His gaze shifts to her, chuckling at the little dance she's doing in her seat to faint music playing.

"He's gonna talk to Carmen and see if I can make this a regular thing., and if I start getting really good, they'll start paying me." She cheeses, sipping on her drink.

"Really?," his eyes light up, "that's amazing, baby." He rubs her knee.

"Isn't it? I could stop working at Claire's, even though, I love her so much, I could!"

"You could. You should tell her, I'm sure she'd be happy for you."

"Yeah, I'll tell her when I go in, tomorrow."

"What time you gotta be there?"

"Three."

He nods, bringing his drink up to his lips. Her eyes dance over his face as the knowing smirk comes out to play, once his glass returns to the table.

"I'm gonna put you in time out." She folds her arms on the table, leaning towards her drink.

"Why?"

"Because, you keep putting me out of commission," they share a laugh.

"You so fine, I can't help it." He wets his bottom lip, making her bite her own.

"Trouble, is what you are." She speaks lowly, shaking her head.

The hand that's on her knee starts to walk up her thigh, spreading out to cuff her flesh. "And somehow... you're at the center of it, every time."

༺═──────────────────────────────═༻

Heavy breathing can be heard throughout the dimly lit bedroom.

His lips sliding off hers, taut ass in her grip with every stroke grazing against her spot, driving her crazy.

"Oh shhhit!," her whines float through the air as he digs deeper, while nipping at her soft skin.

"Wanna live in my skin, huh?" He rasps in her ear.

"Yes, baby," she breathily whimpers.

Coming back into her line of view with his hand slowly gripping her neck, his lips hover over he own.

"Tell me you love me," he mumbles, tugging at her bottom lip.

"Unh...I love you," her jaw slacks as he picks up his pace, stimulating her spot with more pressure. Her hands grip his biceps, tightly.

"Say it, again."

"I love you, shit!.... that feels so good," she moans, her legs wrapping around his waist.

"Say it again, baby," he reaches his free hand in between them to rub her clit, her hand quickly gripping his wrist.

"I love you," she whimpers, staring into his eyes.

“Fuck, I love you vie.”

He leans up and speeds up, her hands find the back of his neck as her eyes roll back.

"You're gonna make me cum!"

"Mhm, cum on this dick."

A whine like no other leaves her lips as her eyes roll back, her walls tighten around him as her orgasm jolts through her, leaving her entire body thumping.

A chill rushes up his spine as he brings his thrusts to a halt.

"Fuck..” he moans, leaning down to kiss her lips as she comes down enough to reciprocate, her tongue finding his own.

He grunts and pulls away, flipping her over. With her ass high in the air, his palm quickly reddens her flesh and makes her leak down her thighs, double time.

"Look at that." His thumb circles her clit, her body seizing up at his touch. "Makin' a mess all over my sheets, girl." His mouth salivates at the sight of her nectar leaking down her leg.

"Mmf," she bites her lip, "don't tease me, baby..."

Lining back up with her sticky entrance, he pushes into her roughly, earning a heavy gasp from her.

"Oooh, shit!"

Picking up his tempo, he adds a roll of his hips, sending her clawing at his thigh with one hand and clawing at the sheets with the other.

"Oh shit, oh shit! Oh fuck!" Her thighs tremble as her orgasm creams onto his already soaked shaft.

"That's right," his grip tightens on her waist. "Soak that dick." 

Pulling out, he taps his dick against her clit before pushing back in, picking up where he left off.

"Unh! s-slow down," she grasps his thigh.

Doing just that, he wraps an arm around her, gripping her neck. Her hands find the sheets, gripping them up as he sensually wines his hips into her.

"Just like that.... oh, babyyy!"

Nose deep in her sweet-smelling hair, his moans become more frequent, turning her on. She begins to meet him halfway, adding more friction.

"Shit, vie... feel like a fucking dream." His free hand slaps her ass as he tries to regain control. Reaching back, she digs her nails into his hip.

"Fuck!— ugh! Unh! Just like that!"

Digging deeper, her eyes roll back and her moans increase in volume.

"Just like this?"

"—yes!”

Her thighs quiver as she tries to push him away, the pleasure becoming too much. Grabbing her wrists and binding them behind her back, he continues.

"Take it, then."

Her moans are muffled as her face hides in the cover. Eyes shut tightly as her body tightens up, a breathy curse leaving her lips.

"Shit..." he moans, pulling out slowly and pushing back in, their breathing falls in sync as the heat in the room rises.

Releasing her wrists, he pulls her up in his lap as she leans up on her hands. 

One hand in her curls and the other wrapped around her neck, his strokes start off curt. Her brows furrow as her moans fill his ears.

"Oh fuck! Oh fuck," fingers gripping the sheets, her toes curl at the intensity of her pleasure.

"Say my name." He rasps.

"Rod," she yelps.

"Say it, again."

"Oh my God, Roderick!" She moans. "You're gonna make me c—cum!"

"Fuck... keep squeezin' me, baby."

"Oh my God... oh my God," her breath gets caught in her throat, while her climax rises to the surface. His own on the horizon with every stroke.

"Cum on this dick, baby.... I feel it.. give it to me," the gravel in his tone makes her soak his lap with a single squeal. His own orgasm forcing his body to fall slack on hers.

Flattening out underneath him, she laughs a bit, pushing her hair out of her face, while he repositions himself to not totally crush her, even though she didn't mind.

"Wanna know something?" He asks, intertwining their fingers, his beard tickling the bare skin of her shoulder as he places kisses there.

"What?"

"Makin' love to you is my favorite pastime, too." He replies with a goofy grin, making her giggle.

༺═──────────────────────────────═༻

Tiredly pulling the door open, Stevie heads in the back, stuffing her jacket in her locker. Taking her hair-tie off her wrist, she pulls her curls into a sloppy bun and heads back up front.

"Hey, girl," Rena waves, her and Alana studying her worn out expression.

She grabs her apron and glances at them.

"Hey, guys.”

"Are you alright?" Alana asks.

"Yeah, I'm just tired."

"Oh yeah! Your debut was last night. How'd it go?" Rena asks, excitedly.

"It went great.” Stevie smiles, leaning on the countertop.

"I was nervous as hell, but I made it through. Everybody really liked it. That also kinda made me kinda nervous, but also really happy.” She laughs.

"Aw, that's so great! I'm so happy for you!" Alana says.

"Yeah, that's amazing," Rena adds, "did you celebrate?"

"Yeah, and I probably shouldn't have."

"Why not?"

"Well, I've got a hangover and I was almost late." She sighs.

"Relax, sweet cheeks," Claire comes out of her office. "I know last night was super important to you. I wouldn't have tripped."

"Thanks, Claire."

"Of course. Did your rock head of a boyfriend like it?"

Stevie laughs. "He liked it more than anybody else."

"Oh, that's why ya ass was limpin' when you came in," Rena mumbles, before tending to a customer.

Stevie rolls her eyes. "Maybe you should get laid."

"Relax," Rena defends. "I was just playing around."

"Mm... Anyway," she turns back towards Claire.

"I've gotta talk to you, later. It's super important."

Claire excuses them, pulling them into her cozy office.

"So, how was your night?" She asks.

"It was great! I was so nervous, but the reassurance that I received mellowed me out. I got up on that stage and I knew, at that moment, that I belonged up there. It was amazing." Stevie gushes.

"That's incredible, babe. I gotta come and see you! I'm sad I missed the first one."

"That'd be great. I'd love for you to come!”

"Let me know when your next performance is and I'll put it on my calendar. Now, what's this dilemma you've got going on?"

"Well, Carmen said that if I start getting really good, they'll start paying me." She says, twiddling her fingers.

"Really?? Oh, that's guaranteed money, then! I'm sure you're amazing!"

"Well, I think I'm alright—but, yeah! That's huge, right? I get paid to do what I love."

"Anybody's dream, yes. I'm not seeing an issue here."

"If I start getting paid there.. I could start doing that more often and not.. have to work here anymore."

"Absolutely. I would hope that you wouldn't pass up an opportunity of a lifetime, to serve coffee with some friends."

The sarcasm in her voice makes Stevie laugh.

"Did you think I was gonna be upset?"

"Well, maybe upset isn't the word."

"Well, it's gonna suck not having you here, but I'd never keep you from doing what you love. That's not a friend."

"This is true. Well, nothing's official, yet. You still have me."

"And, I'm delighted!"

“Okay,” she breathes. “I feel better now.”

༺═──────────────────────────────═༻

Slinging her bag over her chair, Stevie turns her lamp on and sits down, opening up her poetry book.

Clicking her pen, she begins to write.

Love so amazing,

It outshines the moon.

Love so hot,

It burns brighter than the sun.

So intense,

It makes you blush.

So—

She smudges her writing as the ringing of her new house phone scares the mess out of her. Snatching the cordless phone off its base, without looking at the caller ID, she utters a slightly agitated hello.

"Ah, breaking the phone in with attitude, are we?" Rod's voice comes through.

"Well, you know, the ringer is extremely loud on this thing. Sorry for the attitude, I suppose."

"You suppose, huh? Guess we'll see about that, later."

"Whatever. How's work?" She asks, twirling a random strand of hair around her finger.

He laughs. "It's cool. I miss you."

"Aw, I miss you too. Want me to come by? I can bring you food, if you haven't eaten yet."

"I'd love that. Seeing your pretty face always brightens my mood." She blushes.

"Oh, stoppp," she drags out, closing her book and standing up from her chair.

"What do you want to eat?"

"Uh, how about pizza?"

"Alright. I'm gonna change and get the food, and I'll be there."

"Okay, babe. See you soon."

About thirty minutes later he hears the chime go off, Rod turns around to see Stevie walking through the door. He snickers at her wardrobe.

"You cold, babygirl?" He asks, gesturing towards his black sweatshirt swallowing her top half, while her black leggings cling to her bottom half.

"Yes!" Her teeth chatter as she sits the pizza box on the counter, rounding the counter to stuff her face into his chest. "It's windy as hell, out there."

"Aw," he coos, rubbing his warm hands over her back. "I'll turn the heat up."

"Thank you. Where do you want me to put this?" she points to the pizza box.

Moving away from her, he locks the door and hangs the sign, before grabbing the pizza from her.

"Follow me."

Following him into the second room on the right, she sits down at the black round table. He opens the box and pulls out a slice.

She follows suit, picking the pepperonis off and popping them in her mouth. He chuckles at the sight.

"One day, it's gonna land on your nose." He jokes. She rolls her eyes.

"Shut up. How's your day been?" He sits in the chair beside her, still munching on his food.

"It's actually been pretty dead in here, today. But, I'm not trippin. We still made sales for the day. How's your writing going?" He grabs a napkin and cleans his hands.

"Well, before you called me, I was in my zone," she laughs. "I think it'll be the next piece I perform."

"Look at you, all bright eyed and bushy tailed!" He teases, poking her cheek.

"You sound like an old man!" She jokes.

“Old?” He laughs, clutching his chest in faux hurt.

“Old as hell,” she nods.

"Alaina, I will throw you outta here." He chuckles.

"In the cold?? The disrespect."

"Yeah, well," he shrugs.

"Yeah, well," she mocks, throwing a balled up napkin at him.

"Keep it up." He stands from his chair, heading towards the soda machine, grabbing two cokes.

"Or what?"

"Ima let you find out."

༺═──────────────────────────────═༻

Plopping down on her bed, she stares at her clock, snorting as it reads 3:45 a.m.

"I'm gonna kill you." She groans, just as Rod waltzes into the room. Handing her a bottle of water, he sits down beside her.

"What did I do, besides what you asked me to?"

"I asked you to damn near break me in half?" She asks, an incredulous look on her face, making him crack up.

"Those weren't your exact words—but, yes, you were asking for it. Then, you didn't want me to stop."

She thanks God that the room is dark and the rosiness of her cheeks are concealed. "Anyway—"

"Mhm. That's what I thought."

"Anyways! Tyler and I are supposed to get our hair done tomorrow, because one of her cousins is getting married, and she asked Tyler at the last minute to be a damn bridesmaids and for whatever reason, I have to be one, too."

"A wedding in the fall? Hm.. that's uh..”

"It's cold. That's the word you're looking for."

"What are the colors?"

"White and gold. The usual."

"You know what the dress looks like?"

"Not yet, no. I'll see it tomorrow."

"When's the wedding?"

"Saturday. I hope the wind doesn't blow us down."

"You're so dramatic, you know that?"

"I do. You're annoying, did you know that?" She smirks.

"I did," he joins in on the laughter.

"Good. Now, can we go to sleep?"

"Hey, we coulda been sleeping, a long time ago. But, someone wanted to ride around and smoke."

She scoffs and snatches her pullover off, along with her sweats and gets under the cover.

He laughs and follows suit, pulling her back into his chest. The warmth of his body made her turn in his hold and snuggle closer to him.

"Love you." She whispers.

"Love you too, you little brat."

Love so amazing,

It outshines the moon.

Love so hot,

It burns brighter than the sun.

So intense,

It makes you blush.

So genuine, 

It makes your heart flutter.

Who knew it could all feel like a fairytale?

Who knew it could be this sweet?

Who knew love, like this, existed?

Who knew...

@ghostfacekill-monger @thegifstories @harmshake @honeysunned @lemmewritesomeish @blowmymbackout @planetblaque @motheroffae @blackerthings @sheabuttahwrites @abeautifulmindexposed @honestpreference @mauvecherie-writes @megamindsecretlair @henneseyhoe @vonsbabymama2005 @consent-is-king @twistedcharismaaa @starcrossedxwriter

[daughterofthemuse]

Thoughts on 'Wrath of the Triple Goddess'

General Thoughts

This book was a lot of fun.

Nope was the cutest ever

Hecate's house is WILD. The knockers? The aesthetic choices? The BATHROOMS? She 1000% committed to the bit

Some ppl have said that the recent Riordanverse books have had themes. (Roughly speaking,) 'The Sun and the Star' was about accepting yourself and moving through trauma, and 'Chalice of the Gods' was about growing up, aging and embracing the changes that come with it (kinda ironic for focusing on a character who is known for turning 17 every year). I thought 'Wrath of the Triple Goddess' could have been about grief and family, but it's actually abt choices and regrets. Bc ofc the book abt Ἑκάτη (Hecate), the goddess of crossroads, would be abt choices.

Fanart I want to see

The Halloween costumes Percy, Grove & Annabeth wore

Human!Grover, Owl-a-beth & Octo-Percy

The Campers' Halloween costumes

Page-by-page notes that I took (with quotes)

I'm always careful not to look at my mom's screen while she's writing, because a) I know it makes her nervous, b) the floating words make me queasy, and c) I can't help wondering if she's writing a character based on me. Maybe that sounds self-centered, but the idea of anybody writing a book about me makes me super paranoid. (pg 16)

Bud, I'm sorry, but it's a decade and a half too late for that

She knew exactly what I was saying, even if Dave and Hana didn't. "She can't do all your homework for you, dude," Hana said. "Yeah, she has to do our homework," Dave said. "Ugh, you two," Annabeth said, but she gave them a smile. "Okay, Jackson, I can spare you a few minutes, Come on." She hauled me up and led me out of the library, Paul and Hana whispering behind our backs, (pg 24)

Oh look, surprise name change! (/j)

Then his eyes drifted up to the gargoyles on the roof. "Oh, wow." "I know, spooky," Annabeth agreed. Grover scratched his goatee. "I was going to say the one on the left looks like my Aunt Helena. But guess that's the same thing." (pg 32)

Grover's Aunt Helena is probably a harpy / nasty wind Spirit

I'd barely been able to master numbers and colors in Spanish, even with my friend Leo Valdez as a tutor. (pg 35)

Rick is making himself plotholes. Percy is being tutored in Spanish by the missing Leo. It's only Chapter 4!

We had some trouble on Third Avenue when Hecuba decided attack a Lil Zeus Greek food cart, but I managed to pull her off before she killed the cook or devoured his meat supply. Dude wasn't too happy. He yelled something in Greek at me--maybe Please control your rhinoceros--but I couldn't be too mad at Hecuba. For one thing, the food smelled good. For another, anything labeled Zeus sent me into attack mode, too. (pg 64)

Lil Zeus Greek food cart? a) Percy should have understood more of the Greek dude's language, unless he did actually think the hellhound was a rhino and b) fair on attacking it

I took out Riptide. With the tip of the blade, I etched a message on the sidewalk: Went to Gramercy. That was another trick I'd only learned in the last month. One day when I was bored, sitting on a sidewalk while my mom shopped for clothes for her first author signing, I discovered that Riptide could sketch glowing lines on asphalt that no regular mortals could see. The markings lasted about three hours before fading away--less if it rained. It made me wonder why I'd never seen Celestial bronze graffiti around from other demigods. (pg 68)

Riptide can write on the pavement?

He couldn’t have been more than six weeks old. "You want another treat?" I asked him. "Nope!" he barked, which apparently meant Yes, please, I'll take the whole bag. I couldn't help but smile. "Is that your name? Nope?" He tilted his head, maybe thinking about it. "Nope!" "Okay, then that's what I'll call you." He crawled right into my lap. He was heavy--like fifty pounds--and floppy, with ridiculously oversize paws that told me he was going to be a rhino-size hellhound someday. I scratched behind his ears and kept feeding him treats, letting him get used to the sound of my voice. (pg 87)

Percy’s getting a Hellhound puppy that can say nope????

The man who was eating a late breakfast at Dr. Sharma's desk was definitely not Dr. Sharma. His dark hair and beard were flecked with gray. He wore a rumpled tweed jacket, tie, and dress shirt, with a flannel blanket over his lap. His old-fashioned wheel-chair had hand-pushed steel wheels and well-worn black leather armrests. He held a half-eaten bagel in one hand and a steaming cup of tea in other. I registered all these details with perfect clarity, but somehow, I still did not recognize him. (pg 99)

WHAT IS CHIRON DOING AT PERCY’S SCHOOL?

"The Adventures of Mom, Chew Toy, and Alley Boy," Annabeth mused. (pg 115)

pffft! And look, an Oxford comma!

My friend Nico di Angelo, son of Hades, also had the ability. He'd used it once to take me Christmas shopping in Florence. (Long story.) (pg 133)

Nico took Percy Christmas shopping in Florence? I need this story.

“Okay,” I said. “Maybe pack isn’t the right word. I don’t know why Hecate turned you into a hellhound. Gods are weird. I have a friend whose dad once turned her into a tree. Maybe Hecate saved you the only way she knew how. It’s not perfect, but it’s still love.” Hecuba gazed at the ocean—a view she’d probably seen thousands of times when she was a mortal. She’d watched the Greek ships anchor off that coast, ready for war. She’d watched her children die in battle on that rocky beach before the walls of her doomed city. (pg 137)

Is this book abt grief & family?

I frowned. "I didn't figure you for a nightclub guy." "Are you kidding? I can hoof-boogie with the best of them! I've still got that wedding-dress outfit from the Sea of Monsters, too." He sighed. "Maybe someday." (pg 142)

Grover still has his wedding dress?

Pracktical forcery and Potionf for Beginnyng Uferf (pg 144)

Oh look, it's that old-timey font where 'S' is really tall and skinny and kinda looks like an 'f'!

Under this collection was a brass plaque engraved with WHAT COULD HAVE BEEN. I lifted the top of the display case. I picked up a pair of blue-framed glasses that were snapped in half at the bridge. They were the same ones I'd seen in my vision of the child pedaling away from the manse in terror. On the right stem, the initials SEJ were monogrammed in gold. I felt like I had shadow-traveled into a block of ice. I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. SEJ. I knew those initials. (pg 145)

SEJ, Sally's initials?

I didn't realize that when he'd said ground himself, he'd meant literally cover himself with the ground. He sat down in a flower bed and started to heap leaves and dirt over his legs. (pg 147) ... Two more tunneled through the leaves and skittered up Grover's legs. Within a minute, there were dozens, maybe hundreds. Honestly, I had no idea. I never had to count squirrels in numbers that high before Grover's torso disappeared under a tidal wave of chittering fur and twitching bushy tails. Somewhere in the mix of brown and gray, I spotted one very large black rat, who quickly disappeared in the sea of its squirrely comrades. (pg 148)

This grounding thing is weird... Could it be a Pan thing?

As he nibbled his cake, I said, "Okay. Tell me." He shrugged listlessly. "It's just... grounding myself like that? It's pretty powerful magic. I can only do it because I'm a Cloven Elder." Grover was too modest. He rarely talked about it, but after the Battle of Manhattan, he'd been promoted to the council of the three most important satyrs in the world, which in my mind made him an elite boss. "It's dangerous?" I guessed. "Oh... nothing I'd worry about," he said. "Not a big deal. It's just when I do that, when I connect with nature on that level, there's always a small chance..." "Yes?" He nibbled more cake. "That I might dissolve into nothing." (pg 151)

Yep, it's a Pan thing. And oh, the grounding thing is like Nico at the end of BoO... okay. This is great /s

And Grover seemed to enjoy being called Cloven Elder. My thoughts started rambling, as they do. I wondered if I should call him CE for short. Did that mean before he became a Cloven Elder he was Grover BCE? This is how my mind works. Welcome to the chaos. (pg 156)

Grover BCE, YES!

The name of the place glittered in pearly white over the door: AEAEA. I guess they'd spent all their money on the storefront decorations and hadn't been able to afford any consonants for their sign. "What is it?" Grover asked. "Not sure," I said. "The name of that place mean anything to you?" Grover tried to pronounce it. "It looks like something Hephaestus might scream when he drops a hammer on his foot." (pg 158)

Αἰαία (Aeaea)? Κίρκη (Circe)????

"My name is Filomena," she said, her jaw clenched. "Aeaea was my home island. But you don't even remember, do you?" (pg 161)

Dude doesn't remember the last time someone recognized him and accused him of destroying their home, does he?

A noxious purple fog started to rise around us. I recovered my senses, yelled, "Aeaea!" (because it was on my mind) and blasted the potion fog right back at Filomena. "Ack!" she complained, now speckled head to toe in magical whatever-it-was. "How dare you!" (pg 162)

Poison manipulation again????

"I take it you didn’t recognize the naiads?" "From where?" Grover asked. "You weren't with us," Annabeth told him. "You were stuck in a Cyclops's cave at the time." Grover shivered. "The Sea of Monsters." "Yep. The naiads are from the island of Aeaea." I rubbed my sore neck. "I think I would've remembered a name like Aeaea." Annabeth considered that. "Actually, you're right. I don't thínk anyone called it that when we were there. It's another name for Circe's Island." (pg 184) ... "Circe had four main handmaidens," Annabeth said. "The Aeaean nymphs. They were responsible for preparing her potions. I guess when the pirates burned down C.C.'s Spa--" "The naiads came to Manhattan," Grover finished. "And set up competing perfume shops. As one does." (pg 185)

I knew they were from Αἰαία! And Lore drop!

Whenever Annabeth joined the chat, the odds of us doing something idiotic went way down. The odds were never zero, mind you, because I was still in the mix. (pg 186)

"Annabeth joined the chat..." Bro, why. Why did you use that piece of slang?

With the help of one of the costume people, Annabeth had done her hair and makeup like it had been on Circe's Island. She looked incredible, but you don't have to take my word for it. The costume person's exact reaction was "You look incredible." Then she turned to Grover and me and said "Now, these two are are a challenge." We were dressed as Annabeth's servants/bodyguards/loyal gladiators? I'm not even sure, but we weren't rocking the look very well. Grover wore a gladiator's breastplate and a leather kilt sort of of thing, with a big plastic sword at his side. I got dressed like a retiarius--one of those Colosseum fighters with the weighted nets and the tridents. The trident seemed a little on the nose for me, but it wasn't my biggest complaint. My "armor" was basically an oversize loincloth with a thick leather belt, sandals, and a weird shield-sleeve thing on my left arm that reminded me of a pizza pan. This meant I would basically be walking around Manhattan in late October in my underwear. Annabeth added a big helmet with a faceplate so nobody would recognize me unless they literally got up in my grill. (pg 187)

I need art of these costumes

23. We Find the Lair of Evil Perfume

Annabeth is doing a ton of amazing work this chapter!

Annabeth responded, "WHOOOO!" (pg 206)

Annabeth, daughter of the Owl Goddess, hooted. It only took her 24 books and 5 years

I raised my hands--except I didn't have hands anymore. Where my arms used to be were eight thick purple tentacles lined with pink suction cups. One tentacle was curled around Riptide. I was so shocked I loosened my hold, letting the blade drop. "Oh.." I wanted to throw up. No offense to octopuses. I've had some great conversations with octopuses. But I didn't want to have their tentacles. My new appendages felt wet and slimy. Powerful muscles rippled under the skin. The suckers clasped and unclasped, smelling the air, searching for something to grip. "This is bad." (pg 207)

Well octo-Percy is... interesting

He was staring down at his legs and weeping. Where his furry goat hindquarters had been, there was bare skin, forward-articulating knees, and instead of hooves... feet. Five-toed feet not too different from mine. "Human," he sniffled. "That's the worst kind of beast!" (pg 207 & 208)

Oh, poor Grover. Also... very interesting "humans are the worst kind of beast"

Annabeth turned her head 180 degrees and shrieked at the nymph. "AWK!" (pg 208)

180-degree head turn from Annabeth!

Grover shuffed awkwardly toward Daedra. "How do you walk on these? They're so tender! Ouch. Ouch. Ouch." (pg 209)

We don't normally walk barefoot. And I want art of human!Grover

I saw a young woman in tattered brown robes. She carried a leather pack over one shoulder, loaded with medicinal plants, vials, salves, and scrolls. It was her life's work--all she could salvage when the Colossians chased her out of their city. She struggled up a steep mountain path, occasionally stopping to grip her stomach, crying out in pain. Tears streaked her face, smearing the kohl around her eyes so she appeared to have a black mask. (pg 215)

Gale Lore drop? Poor Gale!

I'd been wrong about Hecate. She hadn't turned Gale into a polecat out of jealousy. The reason was worse. She'd empathized. She'd lacked faith that Gale could survive on her magical talents alone. Hecate of all people knew how the world saw witches. She'd pitied Gale, admired her, and yes, maybe even feared her a little, but she could not imagine a mere human succeeding when she, a goddess, had failed. So Gale had to cease being human. (pg 218)

Poor Hecate too. Dam patriarchy & fear of the unknown

And no way did I want to be around when orange goo started dripping through Hades's palace ceiling. I'd met his plumbers. They tended to solve all his problems with fery whips. (pg 219)

The Kindly Ones aren't plumbers, Percy

I'll say it again: thank the gods for Halloween. I doubt any amount of Mist could have hidden Owl-a-beth and Octo-Percy from the curious eyes of mortals as we fled, especially since my tentacles kept slapping passers by for no particular reason. Because it was Halloween, though, most people would think, Wow, those costumes are incredible, and that third guy is fully human! Amazing! (pg 222)

Yeah, Halloween does a lot for hiding mythical stuff. Cuts both ways tho

Annabeth gagged. Her beak opened wide. Her owl eyes got even larger. Her crown feathers stood on end like blades. She brought her hands to her throat—the universal sign for choking. I panicked. Would the Heimlich maneuver work on a half human, half raptor? I only had octopus tentacles, but I hustled behind her and did my best to find her sternum the way my fourth-grade health teacher had taught us. I thrust upward into her diaphragm. COUGH! An owl pellet the size of a melon shot from her throat and bounced off the opposite wall. She doubled over, breathing heavily. When she straightened again, she was normal Annabeth—human face, human hair with the scent of her usual apple shampoo. (pg 225)

Coughing that up must've been painful. And I'm pretty sure the Heimlich maneuver isn't recommended anymore

Grover seemed to follow my thoughts. “Tomorrow is Halloween. There’s no way three people can fix this mansion before Hecate gets back. (pg 230)

Just ask your friends to help! They're coming for the party, just ask them to arrive early too

I nodded. “I don’t know what happened exactly, but if we’re going to try rebuilding this place with the help of ghosts, then we need to figure it out. Which means I need to talk to SEJ. Sally Estelle Jackson.” (pg 238)

His mum? Or an ancestor? I'm thinking his mum, but the timing makes me think maybe an ancestor

She smiled wistfully, the way she does when she looks at old photographs. “I haven’t since that day. My family made me wear them because I was seeing things…differently.” “Through the Mist.” She’d always been able to do that. Some rare mortals could, but I’d never considered how hard that would’ve been for her as a kid. “They were just trying to help,” she said. “They were worried. When other kids saw a mounted police officer riding down the street, I saw a pegasus. That kind of thing. We used to live near Gramercy Park West. One day, when I was riding my bike down the street, I saw that mansion, shifting and blending into the buildings around it. Those tombstone walls.” (pg 244)

Interesting... what ppl think of clear-sighted ppl

She swallowed. “Hecate ambushed me! She showed up on Olympus and…well, she asked me what I thought of you. I was shocked! She hadn’t spoken to me since 1914! I—I was desperate to impress her. And foolishly… I said you were quite competent.” “Thanks?” “I panicked! And now, if you fail, that means I failed. Oh, she won’t forgive me a second time.” “I still don’t—Wait.” I’m a little slow on the uptake. But when a puzzle finally starts coming together, I can usually finish it without having to bash too many of the pieces into place. “A second time,” I said. “Nineteen fourteen. That’s the last year Hecate ran her magic school. You were part of that?” (pg 247) She shrugged listlessly. “War. It’s always a war. Our students started taking sides, arguing with one another. It escalated from name-calling to violence to potion-flinging.” “Potion-flinging is bad.” (pg 248)

Ofc WW1 made the school close, and poor Εὐδώρη (Eudora)

I took one more look around the shattered great room. I felt like I was forgetting something important. (pg 258)

Locking the door, I'm pretty sure

Grover and I exchanged a panicked look. If Annabeth was admitting she’d made a mistake, we were in serious trouble. All heroes had fatal flaws. Annabeth’s was pride. She always aimed as high as possible, confident she could go even higher. Most of the time, she was right. But calling for help after one block? The situation had to be desperate for her to swallow her pride like that. Then I remembered why fatal flaws were called fatal. We couldn’t let her get worn-out so soon. She was the only one who could direct the ghosts to rebuild the house properly. “Let me take the torches,” I said. (pg 267)

Annabeth’s fatal flaw is pride, yours is loyalty, Percy. You taking them could go just as badly, with you not passing them to anyone else

My last shot was a miss. Black spots danced in my eyes. I crumpled to my knees, and the torch fell out of my hand. (pg 276)

Oh schist

I knew I’d forgotten something important—again. We’d invited our friends to a Halloween party tonight and never canceled it. You see, kids? Absentmindedness can save your life. The side panel door rolled open and costumed demigods poured out. Connor Stoll led the way, wearing a prisoner’s orange jumpsuit with fake manacles on his ankles and wrists. “Dude, your yard decorations are fire!” “They’re real!” I yelled. “Real ghosts!” More demigods emerged from the van—Clovis from the Morpheus cabin, wearing a nightgown, nightcap, and slippers, which was not very different from how he usually lounged at camp; Harley from Hephaestus, the youngest of our campers, encased in a Celestial bronze Iron Man suit he’d probably made himself; Valentina Diaz from Aphrodite, dressed in a black 1940s evening gown with white gloves, a broad-brimmed hat, and twenty different strings of pearls around her neck. Valentina scanned the ghostly horde. “Gross. Can we fight them?” “Yes, please!” Annabeth yelled from the porch. Our friends charged into battle. (pg 292)

I said his friends could help. Except they're helping with ghosts ig

And Rick, Clovis is a son of Ὕπνος (Hypnos), we don't have a Μορφεύς (Morpheus) Cabin

The horse freaked out and whinnied, Why am I flying? (pg 297)

Poor police horse

There should be a rule that goddesses can never come home before 8:00 a.m. Hecate blazed into the mansion at exactly 5:32. (pg 304)

Eugh, what a wake-up time

Sometimes folks at camp asked if I avoided eating seafood because I was the son of Poseidon and could talk to fish or whatever. I always answered that no, I ate fish. Have you ever talked to one? They don’t have a lot to say. Mostly it boils down to Are you food? Am I food? Eating them is the only way to answer the question. (pg 319)

We have an answer to the Percy-seafood question. Tho he'll probably be off calamari for a while

Obviously, I don’t consume the smart species like octopuses, dolphins, sharks, and manta rays. (pg 319)

Oh, so no calamari at all. Good to know

[vante1920pm]

hi! i love reading your hcs and imagine about aonung, soooo i want to ask for another one! you can decide whether it's a fem/male/gender neutral reader. i was listening to beachbunny's song and there's this line that says "if i'm pretty, will u like me?" can you make an aonung imagine based on that line? and i want this to be a fluff but a lil sad scene in the beginning cause the reader is kinda insecure. that's all, hope you'll take this as an idea! ilyyy

──;; 𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐈 𝐃𝐎 ★☆

★ 𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: sorry for the long wait, i had this in my drafts and totally forgot about it 😭

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

☆ 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: ao'nung/gn!metkayina!reader

☆ 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: insecurity

"If I get more pretty, do you think he will like me?".

Tsireya looked at you with sad eyes. She always knew that you were insecure, but she never thought that you would degrade yourself so much. All that for her stupid brother..

'All the girls and boys in the village are so breathtaking and then there is me. I'm an outcast, just because I'm not pretty enough..'

"Y/N, you're already beautiful! Please don't think like that!". You looked down in shame. Tsireya was sad seeing you like that. You were normally really happy and kind, you didn't deserve that.

────

The day ended with Tsireya consoling you, saying, that you shouldn't need to worry about your looks, since you're good looking and beautiful, but you just couldn't belive her.

It's easy for her to say, she's the most gorgeous girl in the whole village. Not once did she have to worry about her looks, unlike others. Not only is she beautiful, but she's also a great person. She's literally perfect.

This thought made you feel some slight of jealousy, something you just couldn't control. You didn't want to feel like that, but it's hard not to.

You were sitting on a small rock, on which, at most, two people could sit. You didn't mind taking the whole space on it, thinking, you'll be alone tonight anyway.

You were listening to some Na'vi kids playing in the background, despite the darkness. Fidgeting with your bracelet, your thoughts drifted off to Ao'nung. He was someone you admired and were in love with. But your looks stood in your way.

You liked him since years, your crush only growing when you got older. Ao'nung never paid much attention to you tho. He was helping you then and there, but that's all the interactions you got. He never came up to you and you never spoke to him either.

It made you sad but it is what it is.

────

You didn't even notice when you fell asleep, only waking up 'cause of someone shaking you. You needed a moment to fully wake up, only to see, to your surprise, Ao'nung sitting next to you on the sand. You didn't even notice falling from the rock either. Wow.

"Are you okay? What are you doing here?" Ao'nung asked you, still having one of his hands on your right shoulder. He helped you sit up and lean against the rock.

"Uh, yea, I'm okay, I just fell asleep, I guess..". You didn't hear Ao'nung responding, only feeling his eyes lingering on you. You were confused because it seemed so random. He normally wouldn't even look your way, why is he so worried now?

After you fully came back to your sense, Ao'nung brought you back to your Marui. The walk was mostly silent, only interrupted by said boy, asking if you were okay when you tripped.

"Soo, I heard you talking to my sister today.." Ao'nung started, instantly making you panicking. You two were talking about him, about your crush and that you were insecure, since he needed someone pretty by his side.

You intended to walk away, but he stopped you by taking your arm and pulling you back to him.

"You have a bad habit with running away, you know that?" You didn't reply, only looking down on the ground. Ao'nung made you face him by pulling your chin up with his free hand. This gesture made your heart skip a beat, you never thought that this would ever happen to you.

"Hey, I think you're really beautiful, so stop worrying about something as ridiculous as that." You tried to pull away, denying what he just said but he didn't let go, now caressing your hand.

"No, I'm not, so stop lying to m-". You were interrupted by Ao'nung pulling your face to his own, you could barely feel his lips against yours, so light the kiss was.

He pulled back after a moment that felt like hours, caressing the side of your face now and putting his forehead on yours.

"I wish you could see yourself the way I do.."

© 2023, VANTE1920PM