#they should kiss and hold hands or whatever

[steddieas-shegoes]

you and all of your new perspective

for @steddiesongfics using 'new perspective' by noah kahan

also on ao3

rated m | 3,513 words | no cw | tags: rock star eddie munson, good uncle wayne munson, mutual pining, yearning, post-vecna, love confessions, idiots in love, first kiss, implied sexual content, getting together

🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻

He’s looking down at the letter and wondering how the hell he’s supposed to be normal about Eddie visiting him.

In Hawkins.

Where Eddie swore he’d never come back to the moment he got his ticket out of here.

“Starin’ at it ain’t gonna make him not come,” Wayne says from across the counter. “Surprised he didn’t call ya to tell ya.”

“He…he left a few messages,” Steve explains, setting the letter down and resting his face in his hands. “I just figured he wouldn’t come if I didn’t call him back.”

Wayne raises a brow, gives him a look that Steve’s perfectly familiar with by now. Four years of weekly dinners with a man that’s well aware of your feelings for his nephew leads to some knowing looks and light teasing.

“Only reason he’d ever step foot in this town again is for you and you know that,” Wayne says as he opens another beer. He has three every Friday night, but no longer indulges during the week. Ain’t so young anymore, son, and I gotta stay active to keep up with all your chores, he’d told Steve when he asked. Steve thinks the doctor told him to take it easier. “I don’t think he even told the kids.”

“Don’t see why he would. They’re all over. He’s probably seen them on tour.”

Steve tries not to sound bitter. He woke up in his own bed or whatever the saying is. He can’t blame Eddie for doing exactly what he said he would, following his dreams, getting the hell out of Hawkins the moment he could. The kids did the same, but at least they visited.

“Well, they’ve been houndin’ him to come visit you.”

Steve lifts his head. “They what?”

“They just worry ‘bout ya,” Wayne shrugs. “So do I.”

“I went on a date last week! Robin visited two months ago! I see you every Friday!” Steve stands and starts pacing. “I’m gonna go visit Dustin at school in a month. And Will has his freshman exhibition that we’re all trying to meet up at. It’s not like I’m lonely.”

“Son, I think the only person lonelier than you is Eddie,” Wayne gives him that sad smile he gives whenever they talk about Steve’s social life. It’s like he knows it’s pitiful, and he knows Steve knows it’s pitiful, and he’s making sure Steve knows that he knows. “And he’s stubborn as a mule, but he cares too much about ya to let you suffer.”

“Who said anything about suffering?”

“It’s implied by the way the kids talk about you.”

“How’s that?”

“The word hermit has been used a bunch,” Wayne explains. “Now, I’m gonna finish this beer and you’re gonna stop workin’ yourself up over something that’s still days away.”

Steve rushes over to his calendar, holding up the letter, then checking the calendar.

“He’s gonna be here in three days!” Steve yells. “I can’t be ready by then!”

“What the hell do you need to be ready for? It’s just Eddie,” Wayne is smirking again and Steve’s tired of his teasing, but he’s not gonna say anything because it doesn’t do any good to draw more attention to it. “He ain’t expecting a welcome committee. Maybe a balloon or somethin’; You know he likes the show of it all.”

Steve groans.

He does know. Eddie loves dramatics, that’s what makes him such a good performer on stage. That’s what makes him a great DM.

That’s what made Steve fall in love with him.

“I don’t even know where to get balloons,” Steve says, resting his forehead against the wall.

“The new Wal-Mart should have some,” Wayne pats his shoulder. “We watchin’ the game or standing around havin’ a crisis in your kitchen?”

Steve breathes in. He breathes out.

“I’ll have a crisis tomorrow, I guess.”

“That’s my boy!”

++++

The crisis does come the next day, but this time Wayne isn’t there to make it worse or better. He considers calling Robin, but he knows she’ll just tell him to use his good cologne and try not to be weird. He even thinks about calling Dustin, but immediately shuts that down when he remembers that Dustin is the one who called him a hermit to Eddie’s face.

He finds balloons at the store, and adds streamers to the cart on a whim. He’s sure Eddie will love it. Eddie loves that kind of shit.

He also grabs a pie crust and apples because he remembers Eddie saying how much he loves apple pie with vanilla ice cream one time nearly five years ago.

Okay, maybe it’ll be weird that he remembered that.

He goes to put the apples back when Joyce bumps into him as she’s reaching for a bunch of bananas.

“Sorry honey!” She throws her hands out to catch him, even though she’s the one who almost falls. “I wasn’t paying attention. You doing okay?”

“Yeah, how’re you?” Steve gives her a small smile, trying not to show how panicked he is.

“Sweetie, you look stressed. Is something wrong?”

“No! No, just preparing for a guest,” Steve says, unsure if Eddie’s told anyone else in Hawkins he would be visiting and not wanting to ruin any surprises if he intended on doing that.

He doesn’t even know how long Eddie’s staying; He didn’t say in his letter or voicemails. Wayne hasn’t mentioned it either, which means he probably knows exactly how long he’s staying.

“Oh, is Eddie staying with you?” She asks, brows furrowing. “I assumed he was staying with Wayne. I helped him find an apple pie recipe for his visit.”

Steve looks down at the ingredients in the cart, the evidence of what he’s going to make even more obvious now. Joyce’s gaze follows his and she bites back a knowing smile.

“Ah.”

“Ah?” He asks.

“Uh huh,” she says, nodding. “I would make sure to get the green apples. He likes sour more than sweet when there’s ice cream.”

Steve looks over at the green apples and back at the red apples he was planning on buying. Joyce winks at him before she grabs the bananas and starts to walk away.

“Enjoy the visit!”

Steve doesn’t respond.

He grabs six green apples and shoves them in a plastic produce bag.

He’ll make the damn apple pie and Eddie will love it. Steve will pretend the apple pie isn’t filled with the love he can barely contain for the man, and maybe Eddie will enjoy it and leave as if he never came.

Maybe Steve can make it through this visit with dignity.

****

Eddie shows up at three in the afternoon on a Wednesday. Technically, it’s 3:03, but Steve wasn’t watching the clock or anything. That would be ridiculous.

He looks just like he always did, just like Steve expected. He’s smiling, and playing with the ends of his curls. Steve is never gonna make it through this visit with dignity.

“Stevie!” Eddie rushes in for a hug, and it should be more awkward than it is. Eddie didn’t exactly leave on the best of terms with Steve. They really only spoke a handful of times over the last few years, and most of those were forced by Wayne or Dustin. But it’s like he never left, like he’s been hugging Steve every day for years.

Steve soaks it up, falls into it and doesn’t care how it looks. If Eddie has a problem with it, he doesn’t say so. He holds Steve tighter, his breath warm against his neck.

Eventually, Steve invites him inside and it does start to feel awkward.

Eddie’s a rock star now, and despite how normal he looks, he’s different. He’s here to see Steve, but is he here out of guilt that it took him this long to visit or because he actually wants to?

Steve talks about work, and his dinners with Wayne, and spends more time than he should explaining Robin’s degree program even though he knows Robin already talked to Eddie when she got accepted. He goes on and on about what everyone else is up to because his life is pretty boring in comparison and he doesn’t want to bore Eddie away.

“Sounds like everyone’s doing good, but I already knew that,” Eddie eventually says when Steve’s rambled for much longer than he planned. “How are you?”

“I told you, I’m fine,” Steve says. “Kinda boring around here, honestly. How’s the tour been?”

Eddie laughs and Steve tries not to let it hurt. He doesn’t think he means it in the way Steve’s taking it and that’s a Steve problem, not an Eddie problem.

“I called you 37 times,” Eddie says instead of answering him. “Every city we had a show. The first few I figured you were just busy or asleep. I didn’t think about time zones. But then I started to realize you were avoiding me.”

He isn’t mad, or at least he doesn’t look mad, but Steve feels like he needs to apologize anyway.

“Yeah, sorry. After a while, it kinda…”

“Seemed worse to call since it was so long?” Eddie asks, small smile falling from his face when Steve nods. “It’s never a bad thing to hear from friends, though. You could’ve called the bus phone anytime. Left a message. We got an answering machine because Gareth’s mom always calls when we’re on stage.”

“Right. Good to know,” Steve says. Which, it is good to know, but he doesn’t plan on calling unless there’s an emergency. He can’t look as desperate as he feels and if he calls once, he’ll call twice, and then a hundred times. “What city was your favorite so far?”

Eddie tilts his head, looks him over for a moment before responding. “I liked Boston. All the kids were front row. Except El, she somehow got backstage. Still not sure how. Missed you, though.”

Steve feels his face heat up at the words. Eddie always said things in a flirty way, even though he doesn’t really mean it that way. Steve can’t let himself think that he means it that way.

“It’s a pretty big trip, so. I couldn’t miss work.”

It’s a shit excuse because he absolutely could miss work. It’s a grocery store in a small town, and he doesn’t care that much about it.

“They couldn’t find someone to cover a couple days for you?” Eddie sounds hurt now, and Steve can’t let him think that he’s the problem.

“I didn’t ask. I-” Steve has to be brave now. Wayne’s voice is in his head telling him to just tell Eddie why he’s been so distant, why he hasn’t been the one to reach out. “I was scared to go.”

This seems to throw Eddie off balance. His eyes squint and forehead wrinkles adorably as he tries to do mental gymnastics to find out why Steve of all people would be scared to visit him. Steve is known for throwing himself in the line of fire, being the first one to step in when everyone else is scared. Too bad this type of courage is different.

“Are you scared of flying? I didn’t know, maybe we could have figured out a hired car.”

“No, I don’t mind flying,” Steve admits.

“Then…why were you scared?”

“Because if I let you in, you’ll see how much I miss you and if you see how much I miss you, you’ll see how much I love you. And then you’d never wanna have me around and it would be just like everyone else I love who leaves because I’m not enough to keep them around,” Steve lays his head back against the couch. The Wayne voice in his head is suspiciously quiet.

So is Eddie.

Steve isn’t going to talk anymore; He’s said enough.

Eddie’s hand covers Steve’s. It’s warm and surprisingly soft, and bigger than Steve’s. He never realized that before, not even when he held his hand while he was in the hospital after Vecna or when he watched him play guitar for hours while he was trying to gain his confidence back.

“People don’t leave because you aren’t enough, Steve. They leave because the world is big and they want to be a part of it. Everyone wants you to do that, too,” Eddie says softly, carefully. “I think most of the kids hoped you’d leave Hawkins once they did. Dustin thought you’d come on tour with me.”

“Why would he think that?” Steve doesn’t remember ever having a conversation with Dustin that would make him think that, but his memory isn’t the best.

Eddie’s lips curl up into a smile and he leans forward.

“You know you’re incredibly obvious, right?” Eddie whispers even though they’re alone and there’s no need to be quiet. “You’ve always been easy to read.”

“What does that mean? Read what?”

“You wear your heart on your sleeve and it’s been right there with Eddie written across it since I was in the hospital, sweetheart.” Eddie points to Steve’s arm. He looks down as if he would be able to see the heart Eddie’s talking about. “You’re an open book.”

The timer in the kitchen goes off and Steve jumps up. He rushes to the oven, grateful for the distraction.

“Is that apple pie?” Eddie asks from a few feet away. Steve really should’ve known he would follow him.

“Yes, it’s gotta be perfect.”

“You made apple pie for me?”

Eddie’s right behind him now, and when he turns, there’s no space between them at all. Steve smells the airport on him, the rental car, the cologne he’s worn since Steve bought it for him before he left Hawkins.

He looks up and sees the years that have passed in smile lines on Eddie’s face, in a single gray hair that Eddie’s probably keeping because it makes him look cool. Steve hasn’t found any gray hairs yet, but he’s only 25. Eddie always said Wayne went completely gray by 30, so his genetics wouldn’t be as kind to him. Steve kinda hopes he’s right. Eddie would be beautiful with gray curls.

“Just like I said: heart on your sleeve,” Eddie whispers, leaning in until his lips are just barely brushing against Steve’s.

He’s waiting for Steve, to see if he’ll finally give in after years of near-silence, after whatever flirty and semi-codependent friendship they had before Eddie left to be a rock star.

Steve’s spent enough time waiting, and he thinks Eddie probably has, too.

His lips press against Eddie’s, sure of their movements despite the anxiety crawling through his chest and the unfamiliar taste of him on his tongue.

It’s full of hunger even though it only lasts a few seconds. Steve’s wanted this, wanted him, for so long, he puts everything he has into this moment. If it’s all he gets, he wants it to be perfect.

“You’re kissing me like you’re sending me off to war,” Eddie says when they’ve caught their breath.

“Feels like I am,” Steve admits, corner of his mouth turning up in a sad smile. “At least a little.”

“I think the odds of me dying on stage are probably extremely slim,” Eddie laughs. Steve doesn’t laugh with him. “Steve? What’s wrong?”

Steve pulls himself away, ignoring the way his chest aches at the separation. He’ll have to get used to that when Eddie leaves.

“You have a whole new life. You’re a rock star, Ed. I can’t force my feelings on you now.”

“Who said you forced anything on me?”

“I made you apple pie!” Steve exclaims, pulling away so he can breathe again. Having Eddie in his space alters his brain chemistry, maybe his DNA. “I bought all your favorite things so I could try to convince you I’m worth staying for, even though I can’t compare to going on a world tour with your band. I cleaned out the guest room and made sure I put your favorite shampoo in the shower as if you would even notice that. As if it would be enough to keep you around.”

Eddie steps closer, but Steve steps back.

“Your life is different now. It’s good. I wouldn’t add anything to it, and I don’t know why I even tried to make it seem like I would.”

Eddie steps closer, and there’s nowhere for Steve to go. He’s boxed in against the counter, and Eddie’s face is red with anger. He’s not scared– he could never be scared of Eddie– but he does swallow around a lump in his throat and try to take a deep breath to calm his racing heart.

“My life is different now, you’re right about that. My life doesn’t even feel like mine most days. I belong to fans, and the guys, and the record label. But you know what does feel like mine?” Eddie leans in close enough that his breath is hot against Steve’s face. “How much I love you. How much I have always loved you. You’ve always felt like mine, Steve.”

It’s a hell of a confession, and definitely not what Steve expected from this visit.

The Wayne voice in his head decides to speak again. Except this time, it’s something he’s said to Steve in person before.

He’s surrounded by people, but he seems pretty lonely. Kinda like he still needs a certain someone.

Steve’s brows crinkle as he thinks about the words Wayne said after a phone call with Eddie during the first part of his first tour nearly two years ago. The words were accompanied by a look that Steve has since come to recognize as his sad puppy look.

The same one Eddie’s giving him now.

Steve can’t help it; He laughs.

“You and Wayne could bottle that look and sell it to people who need someone to feel bad for ‘em,” Steve says. He cups Eddie’s cheek in his palm, rubs his thumb against the angry red that turns into a flushed pink. “I don’t know how you could love me-”

“Steve-”

“But!” Steve interrupts. “I know you wouldn’t have said it if you didn’t mean it. And you wouldn’t be here if you didn’t want to be. If you didn’t care, you wouldn’t have taken the time to come back here at all, let alone stay with me. I won’t understand it, but I’ll believe it.”

“That was easier than Wayne said it would be,” Eddie’s smile grows slowly, lighting up his face and the room.

“He’s been buttering me up for years,” Steve shrugs.

“Doing all the hard work, more like,” Eddie leans forward, rests his forehead against Steve’s. “He must’ve been sick of hearing me yearn for your love.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “You know, you could have come back sooner. You didn’t have to wait until I was convinced I’d be alone forever.”

“And you could have called me to let me know I could visit sooner.” Eddie pokes the tip of his nose with his finger, smirking as he leans away to look back at the apple pie on the oven. “Especially if I could’ve been having apple pie on every break.”

“It might not even be good,” Steve says as he wraps his arms around Eddie’s waist.

“Is there vanilla ice cream?” Eddie pecks his lips.

“Mhm,” Steve kisses his cheek. “And you can have some if you promise to sit down and tell me everything about the band.”

“You wanna waste time hearing about Gareth drooling over every woman who looks his way? We could be making love on the couch.”

Steve raises a brow. “We won’t be making love anywhere but my bed. And it won’t be until we’ve talked more.”

“Fiiiine,” Eddie rolls his eyes, but grabs for the pie cutter on the counter. “Cut me a piece of pie and I’ll do my best to resist taking all your clothes off.”

“I never said you couldn’t do that,” Steve grabs the pie cutter.

“So I can take your clothes off?”

“Shirt only. And after pie…we’ll talk.”

“I thought after pie we’d be done talking.”

“How long are you staying?” Steve asks as he puts the slice of pie onto the plate and hands it to Eddie.

“Four days.”

Steve tilts his head side to side, considering what he can accomplish in four days.

In any other situation, he might be worried about how quickly he throws off his shirt. In any other situation, he would probably insist on talking to Robin before throwing his heart on the plate next to the scoop of ice cream Eddie just put next to his steaming slice of pie. In any other situation, he would take things slow and get to know rock star Eddie who left Hawkins to be someone.

But he’s finding that he’s okay with speed-running things.

He’s got a new perspective on Eddie’s visit, and maybe a new perspective on what their future will look like.

Steve drops his pants. Eddie’s eyes widen.

“Eat your pie. We’ll talk while we make love on the couch.”

[elalfywhore]

jana x bimbo reader🎀

•she’s so sweet and tries to be understanding

•she’s not used to people being as ditzy as you so she tries to be calm and cool through her frustrations

•she helps you do you’re homework, even after she comes home from a grueling practice. if you are struggling she’ll sit with you for as long as it takes

• “i don’t wanna do it anymore jana” you whine, you’re both exhausted. you two had been trying to finish your project for the last two hours. “i know, habibti i don’t either but it has to get done.” you had tried to hurry and throw your laptop back into your backpack before jana opened the door, knowing she wouldn’t let you stop until it was done, it was due the following morning and well you lagged a bit on it. “if you would’ve stared this when you got assigned it we wouldn’t be up right now.” a bit of her frustration comes through, making a hallow shell in your stomach. the look on your face makes her soften. “i’m sorry habibti, we’re almost done then we can get in the bed, okay?”

• she loves to watch you sit and do your makeup, something about you getting all ready for her makes her melt

•you’re a yapper, you constantly try and keep her up at night to listen to your little dumb ramblings and billion questions

• “baby, would you still love me if i was 6’5?” you ask laying on your side facing back sleeping jana. “habibti, i’m 6’5.” she mumbles. “well yeah but what if we were the same height? or even if i was taller than you? are you into girls that’re taller than you? do you feel like i’m too short-.” you’re cut off by a groan, “habibti, you’re not too short. id love you no matter what height. can we sleep now?” you pout and with a sigh you pull the covers up your body. “no, i’m not into girls taller than me. do you think i’m too tall?” jana softly smiles, turning on her side to face you making you giggle.

•she loves it when you come to her games!! especially when she can see you cheering her on from the side, draped in her jersey.

•she always carry’s stuff for you, you’re a bit clumsy and she doesn’t want you to drop whatever it is you’re holding.

• “i got, jana! really i can hold it.” you were feeling especially independent today, it was paige’s birthday and you two were tasked with bringing the cake. you had baked it and decorated it to perfection. a heart shaped pink cake, with cherries around the rim. “are you sure habibti? i can hold it just until we get to the car.” worry lacing her voice but also not wanting to break your good mood. “mmmm, nope! i got it, thanks baby.” you smile but your mood is quickly soured as you step, almost falling straight on your butt. jana grabbing your waist, stopping the fall and saving the cake. your eyes dough as you look up at her, “okay maybe you should hold it.” as you hand it to her. “it’s okay habibti, you’ll still be able to light the candles and cut it.”

•forehead, neck and kisses on the back of your hand are her speciality!!!

18+ below!!!

• she’s so dominant there’s not many nights where she bottoms

• tribbing is one of your guys’ favorite!!

• “feel good habibti?” she pants, reaching down to pinch your hard nipple. you guys had been at it for what felt like hours, your left leg pressed all the way up and back against the wall by her big hand. with tangled legs your clits rubbed against each others, all the wetness making the motion swift. “mm’ feels the best ever baby.” you whine out, one of your hands going to touch her toned stomach. “yeah baby?” she slows down a bit, leaning down to press a sensual kiss to your lips, you moaning into her mouth. you feel her strong hand snake around your neck, lightly squeezing. “yes, s’ good, please don’t stop.” you cry as she sits back up, the hand leaving your neck. she’s quick to put her thumb in her mouth and pull it out with a pop before moving it to rub your clit and speeding up her hips again. “not gonna stop habibti don’t worry.” she groans, staring down and where you two connected.

•she can have you sitting in her lap making out for hours, usually it only stops when either your lips get sore or you guys have to get ready to go somewhere.

•she always smacks your butt when you walk by or bend over she just can’t help herself

• she always jokes about you giving her a “three finger combo” but she’s not joking…

• “fuck baby, just like that.” she groans, her stomach tight, mouth slightly opened and head rolled back. she’s sat up on the couch, you on your knees in between her legs, three knuckles deep. “just like that, mommy?” you manage to detach your mouth from her clit long enough to get those words out before going back to continue sucking on it. “like that baby.” she pulls her head up to look down at you, taking your hair into both of her hands to pull back.

•oh my gosh her strap game is soooo strong!! so addicting!!!

•your favorite one she uses on you is pretty and pink with sparkles. it’s long and semi-thick about 8 inches with the belt of it being the prettiest light pink on her skin

• “fuuuuuuck.” you drag out, you look and sound like something out of an erotic porno. your whines mixed with the sound of skin slapping together and your wet pussy was music to jana’s ears. you’re in your shared bed taking it missionary, the comforting feeling of jana on top of you enhancing the experience. “love youuuu sooo much baby, feels s’ good, please don’t stoppp.” you blabber out, arms around her neck. her face goes down in between your boobs, kissing your chest. “not gonna stop baby, love you too much for that. love you and this pussy so much” she promises, her hard thrusts send jolts through your body. your whines and blabbering continue on especially when she takes your nipple into her mouth, gently nibbling on it. “gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna cum.” you warn, reaching up to rub her nipple. “gonna cum, huh baby? gonna cum for mommy, huh?.” her thrusts speed up and she talks to you how you like it. the bed creeks as she reaches up and pinches your cheeks together, forcing your mouth open before leaning down and spitting in it. your eyes roll back, her actions pushing you over as you cum all over her silicone dick. she leans down, muffling your moans with her mouth, letting you suck on her tongue.

•is the type to always want to shower after sex but leaves it up to you if you wanna join or not

•either way she’s always holding you again before you fall asleep<3

[vivwritesfics]

Drive Me Crazy

Chapter Eleven

None of you are used to pack dynamics. Unlike then, it made you near feral. There's nothing more they want than to build you back up.

Lestappen X Reader

Series masterlist

Charles wasn't jealous the first time you spoke to Max. But he had been waiting patiently for his turn. You were expressive, more now that you didn't have a muzzle. Watching you grow, come out of your shell, had been amazing. You were smiling at your fellow drivers, making an effort. 

All Charles wanted from you after that was to speak. He wasn't going to push you. That was the absolute last thing he wanted. He could picture it now, pushing you too far and having you retreat into yourself. 

Inviting you to Monaco wasn't about getting you to speak. It had been a bad race, and you needed this. At least, he thought you did. You had been having fun on the jet, giggling against Max's side as he got a little drunk. 

That was why Charles had driven the three of you back to their building. Dropping your handler off at some random hotel in Monaco (Charles was paying for the room) was the absolute highlight of his day. 

You willingly went wherever they took you. Trust Max and Charles had earned. As soon as you followed Charles inside, your eyes were wide with wonder as you took everything in. You missed the way he pulled Max close for the first time in days and kissed him, licking the taste of his early morning Red Bull from his lips. Disgusting stuff, but Charles would happily taste it from Max. 

When he started playing the piano, you began to dance. Charles watched your outline in the reflection of the polished wood. It was as if you didn't even know you were doing it, swaying gently. He couldn't see the way your eyes were beginning to fall shut, letting the music take hold. 

But then Max shouted. "Shut up, Charlie!" 

And Charles obeyed, stopping his playing. You stopped too, the look of disappointment on your features not going unnoticed. Charles didn't expect you to surge forward, though. He didn't expect you to join him by the piano, looking ready to play. 

"I liked it." 

Three little words. The three sweetest words Charles had ever heard. 

You wanted him to play more, so he did. His fingers began dancing across the keys, a tune filling his Monaco apartment. 

You stood from the bench and let yourself dance. No small movements, doing whatever your body told you. You moved to the music, enjoying every moment of it.

Leaving his crushed can of red bull on the counter, Max strode towards you. He took your hand, interrupting your dancing, and moved you around. He spun you and twirled you and everything else, moving with you. 

You were far more elegant than her, your every movement natural compared to his. This was what you were meant to he doing, Charles realised. 

He played until you stopped dancing, until you sat down, chest rising and falling and your arm resting on your stomach. Max's smile was wide as he sat beside you, arm around the back of the sofa. "Happy?" He asked a little breathlessly. 

You nodded, unable to stop yourself from moving closer. That was so much fun, and you didn't know how to express it. Wrapping your arms around him, you laid your head on his chest and looked up into his pretty eyes.

Why couldn't a team have three drivers? You, Max and Charles in the same garage, spending free moments before racing together. Or Max and Charles on the same team while you watched the both of them. Yeah, that felt right. Not part of the action, but able to watch it. 

Who would you be, though? You wouldn't be a driver, you'd be something else entirely. You weren't sure what, but you would be happy. 

Charles watched the two of you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, content to just sit there. You didn't steal a kiss, didn't do anything but lay against him. 

A groan left Max's lips as he looked towards the clock. "I should head to my place," he muttered, sounding as if he didn't really want to leave. 

You whined, your hands slipping down to his chest. You held his shirt, looking moments away from climbing into his lap. "Sorry, Birdy," he whispered and pouted at you. "But I gotta get on stream." But then he smiled and you realised he was mocking you. He wasn't being nasty, you knew immediately. 

Charles stood up. He walked across the room and laid his warm hand on your shoulder. "Come on, Birdy Girl," he said and pulled you to his feet. "We can walk him to the door." 

You trudged through the apartment, following Max and Charles to the door. He didn't have to come here, you reminded yourself. He did this to spend time with you and Charles. 

"Should we take our girl out tomorrow?" Charles asked as he stood behind you, both hands on your shoulders. 

They both looked down at you, as if waiting for you to say something. You didn't have to, you knew. This whole talking thing would take some getting used to. 

Finally, Charles looked away from you. He released a hum and Max met his gaze. 

For a moment, they stared at each other. Could they take it any further with you between them. There was no telling how you would react, pressed between them while...

But what if your reaction wasn't bad? What if you liked it?

Charles made the first move. He leaned over you and pressed a kiss to Max's lips. It was short and sweet and gentle, but whine was still pulled from your lips. 

Max grinned as he looked down at you. "You want some, Birdy?" He asked. 

Swallowing, you nodded. 

That was the first time you kissed Max Verstappen. He moved slowly, almost as if you were a spooked animal. His blue eyes searched your face, looking for any reason to stop. But your eyes were pleading, desperate.

His hands cradled your face, held your cheeks. You didn't bite him, didn't make any move like you felt threatened. He leaned in and you held your breath. 

Close enough to touch, but still holding back. "You ready, Birdy?" He whispered and you nodded. 

He kissed you, pressed his freckled lips against your own. A squeak left your lips, entire body tensing. You didn't know what to do, how to move with him. But Max was slow and gentle, every movement encouraging you. 

When you finally kissed back, his whole world lit up. 

He pulled away and you chased after him, already missing the feeling of his lips against your own. "Good Birdy," he whispered and let go of you. 

Your first kiss and it was with Max Verstappen.

You whimpered at the loss of contact, but Charles pulled you into his side. "Don't worry, Birdy Girl," he whispered and kissed the top of your head. "We'll see him tomorrow." 

Max picked up his bags. He started towards the door, leaving the two of you behind. 

"No!" 

You ran forward and wrapped your arms around him. "You can't go," you whispered, pressing your forehead against his back. You squeezed your arms around him, Max's fingers resting over yours. 

A sigh left Charles's lips. He wasn't annoyed, not in the slightest. You were damn adorable, with no control over your emotions. Too sweet for your own good. 

"Would you like to stay the night, Max?”

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heyyy so the taglist is full - if i could tag everybody that wanted to be tagged, i would but tumnlr says no

[lamerfish]

kento nanami kisses your knuckles any time the two of you are holding hands. it's almost instinctual, he does it without thinking: just lifts your hand to his mouth and presses a chaste kiss to your knuckles before resuming on with whatever he was doing prior.

when one evening you do the same, and lift his knuckles to your lips for a kiss, he laughs. "what was that for?"

and you reply with a lopsided smile, "is there anything wrong with kissing my lover?"

"i suppose not, though i should be the one doting on you. now i'll have to kiss you twice for every kiss you give me."

"i like the sound of that exchange."

[blitzynatural]

“What should I call you?” 

Tommy whips his head around in confusion, nearly dropping the knife he was holding to cut the salad with. They had been working in a comfortable silence, Evan stirring the pasta sauce while Tommy was working on the salad inside Evan's loft. One month of dating and Tommy knows that he is already in so deep. 

“I'm Tommy”, he deadpans, grinning as he goes back to cut the salad head. “Tommy Kinard, 39, firefighter pilot at 217 and boyfriend of one Evan Buckley. Did you hit your head on your shift today and forget?” 

Evan chucks something at him and Tommy snorts at the lone uncooked penne pasta that just about missed his head and lands next to the cutting board. 

“I know who you are, silly.” 

Tommy doesn't even have to look back to know that Evan is ducking his head and is wearing the most goofiest smile ever with a tint of red painting his face so adorably. He also knows that if he were to turn around and see this display, the food would be soon forgotten, so he remains strong where he stands and proceeds with the salad, scooping what he has cut up and dropping it into a bowl. 

“I am talking about pet names. What should I call you?” 

“Oh, we're that couple, huh”, Tommy muses and reaches for the tomatoes next. 

He can feel Evan's presence right behind his back in the next moment and ignores the shivers that erupts his skin when he feels his breath hitting his neck. A touch of lips ghosts over his skin there. “Yeah. We are that couple”, Evan decides, and Tommy is not one to object. Nor does he have much of a chance to respond when a spoon of sauce is being presented to him, hovering right in front of his lips. “How's this?” 

Tommy leans forward to taste the sauce and hums in  appreciation. “Mmh. Hot.” 

“The sauce, Tommy.”

“Also hot.”

He doesn't even try to dodge away from the pinch landing on his ass and chuckles. “It's delicious, Evan.” 

“So a pet name.” 

It's never a dull moment to try to catch up on the various topics being presented to him left and right whenever he's around Evan. 

“You've been thinking about this pretty hard.” 

“Amongst other things. Can I call you snookums? Pookie-Bear? Cuddlebug?” 

“Are you asking for one answer or for all three?” Tommy cringes at the names, but humors Evan anyway. 

“How about honey?” 

“I do like honey.” 

“How about baby? Babe? Darling?” 

With the tomatoes finally being sliced, Tommy dumps them into the salad bowl and wipes his hands over his apron as he finally turns to give his boyfriend his full attention.  

“Call me what comes to mind, Sweetheart.” Not being able to help himself now, he reaches out his hands to tug his boyfriend closer by the strings of his apron. It is absolutely worth it to see Evan's face flush red. 

“See, you do that so smoothly. A-and I can't call you whatever comes to mind out in public. I'd be kicked out.” 

"That so?” Tommy hums and lifts a hand to cup Evan's jaw, only to laugh when Evan whips away his head in protest. 

“You have tomato hands.” 

“And you have saucy lips. Gonna get another taste.” He grins and leans forward to pepper Evan's face with kisses until he places an obnoxiously loud kiss right on his lips and releases the strings of his apron to let Evan go back to cooking.

“Don't let the sauce burn, babe.” 

“You are the worst.” 

“I'm what you signed up for.” 

“Wouldn't change that for anything”, Evan laughs. They go back to focusing on the cooking. Tommy gets to hear a handful of uncensored names echoing through the loft by the end of the night. 

Read on ao3

[rafecameronsslut4ever]

RUN FOR THE HILLS — max verstappen (angst, smut, nsfw)

pairing; fem!reader x max verstappen summary: you knew deep down that it was never gonna be you and him. warnings: angst, smut, nsfw, mdni, fingering a/n: lowkey highkey obsessed w tate mcrae😵😵i need to stop writing just angst and smut

the suite smelled like him; a faint mix of the expensive perfume he used and the redbulls he always drank.

a metallic tang of adrenaline clung to the air itself.

you hated how much it felt like home—this room that wasn’t yours, this man who wasn't yours.

but it always was like this. hotels, late nights, his hands through your hair. your clothes scattered across the floor.

you were perched on the edge of the bed, legs bare beneath a shirt he had forgotten he’d lent you.

his silhouette loomed in the doorway to the balcony, glass filled with some alcohol—glowing faintly between his fingers. the city lights painted his face in shades of gold and blue, highlighting the sharpness of his jaw and the set of his mouth.

he hadn’t said a word in minutes.

but it was always like this after, once the thrill burned off, leaving only silence.

silence that was a reminder of the long talks that never went deep enough, never continued outside of the room. his red eyes, that were evidence of too much feeling buried beneath too little honesty. and of you, missing the moments when he was still close enough to touch.

“you’re quiet,” you murmured, voice soft. you didn’t mean for it to sound as accusatory as it did, but the tension in the room was thick enough to choke on.

max sucked in a sharp breath. “what do you want me to say?” his voice was hoarse, as if he’d swallowed gravel and wasn’t interested in smoothing it out.

you bit back the immediate response, instead choosing to slide off the bed and approach him. the cool floor stung your feet as you crossed the small distance to stand beside him.

“what this is?” you asked, your words barely audible over the muffled sounds of the city below.

max turned to you, eyes dark and unreadable.

he had a way of looking at you in a way that made you jittery, like he could see every thought you’d ever had about him.

“it’s whatever you want it to be,” he said after a pause, and you hated the way his words felt like both a gift and a dismissal.

your laugh came sharp and humourless.

“don’t you fucking do that, max.” you stepped closer, daring him to flinch, to break. “you’re the one who texts me at two in the morning. you're the one who shows up even when i say i need space. you're the one who kisses me and then acts like it doesn’t mean anything.”

“stop.” his voice came like a whip, cutting through the air. he harshly placed his glass on the table before looking at you again. “you think i don’t know what this is doing to you? to us?”

us.

the word hung there, fragile and fleeting, choking the air and suffocating both of you.

you looked into his eyes, shaking your head.

fuck.

you grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him toward you, crashing your mouth against his.

the kiss was desperate, tongue and teeth and anger spilling out all at once.

his hands found your waist, fingers digging into your skin like he was afraid you might disappear if he didn’t hold tight enough.

“this isn’t gonna work,” you gasped against his mouth, even as your hands slid beneath his shirt to trace the muscles of his back. “it’s never gonna be real.”

he pulled back just enough to look at you, his breath hot against your lips. “walk away, then.”

the answer knocked the air from your lungs, but deep down you knew he was right.

you should have left months ago, left the first time you realised what he meant to you and how little you meant to him in return. but here you were, melting from his touch, caught in the gravity of him.

drawn to the danger that was covered by the thrill.

“i'm obsessed with you,” you whispered, the confession raw, bleeding between you both.

his lips found yours again, softer this time, like an apology he didn’t know how to give. he backed you into the room, the edge of the bed catching the backs of your knees until you were falling, pulling him down with you.

his weight settled over you, grounding you in a way that felt both comforting and suffocating.

clothes disappeared in a haze of heat and urgency.

his hands roamed around your body as if he was memorising you, as if this was the last time he’d ever touch you.

perhaps, it was.

his lips traced a fire along your collarbone, down your chest, lower still. all you could do was feel—the slide of his skin against yours, the way he filled the empty spaces inside you that you didn’t even know existed until him.

you gasped as his fingers slipped inside you, his touch familiar, addictive.

the way he touched you, it went straight to your heart, igniting a fire within you and cutting your heart.

your nails dug into his shoulders, the skin slick beneath your fingers. he was everywhere, and it wasn't enough.

"fuck," he hissed as you pressed your thighs around his fingers, chasing the sensation of his touch, the feel of him filling you.

"please," the word escaped as a moan as his lips traced the line of your collarbone. "max."

his name tumbled from your lips, sounding broken and desperate and aching.

"fuck me like it means something." you weren't sure if the words you had said were a plea or an accusation.

or maybe both.

he lifted his head, meeting your gaze. for a moment, all you could see was a boy lost in a storm.

but then his lips were on yours, the kiss hard, bruising, possessive, and all your senses were knocked away.

the weight of his body pressed against yours, and his fingers intertwined with yours, pinning them to the mattress above your head. he released a ragged breath, his grip tightening on your hands.

he pulled his fingers out of you, trailing them back to himself as he aligned himself and immediately pushed into you.

a groan tore through his throat, a broken, beautiful sound that sent goosebumps down your arms. you arched your back in response, his name falling from your lips as pleasure coursed through your body, making your vision blur.

he began moving, slow and deep, and you felt like you couldn’t breathe—the pressure building, consuming, overwhelming.

everything was him. he was everywhere and also nowhere, and you wondered how he was the only thing you needed but not one thing you wanted.

max, a chant.

your fingers clung to him as he moved within you, as if the two of you would fall apart without the other.

maybe you would. maybe this was a deck of cards waiting to crash down. maybe he was a flame shining brighter than the stars, and you were a moth, ready to burn up and turn to ash.

it was chaos and peace; a hurricane wrapped in the promise of a tomorrow.

it wasn’t enough, and it never would be. it was never going to be you, and you were so fucking tired of it.

yet, here you were, begging him to make it hurt a little more.

he moved faster, the pleasure building within you, and your eyes rolled back into your head, the sight drawing a low, guttural groan from his throat, the sound reverberating through his body.

everything was becoming too much. his touch, his scent, the heat of his skin, the sounds he made, the way his name felt as it slipped past your lips.

your vision blurred, the world fading around you until there was only him.

he kissed you then, his lips claimed yours and you let him—you surrendered yourself, losing yourself to him. his grip around your hands tightened into a bruising grip.

"fuck, baby." his voice was nothing but a breath, a desperate plea, a promise. "you are so good."

he set a faster pace, and every sigh, every moan, every broken word—he drank them up, held them close.

the pressure reached higher and higher, your body aching, pleading for release. and then his name spilled from your lips in a cry, and you were gone, the world shattering around you as pleasure crashed through you like waves in a high tide.

and he was there with you, following after you, the sound of your name dripping down his lips—a symphony, a lullaby, a curse.

he slowed down, resting his head on your forehead before collapsing beside you, breathing ragged and skin slick with sweat.

but when the sweat dried and the silence crept back in, the reality creeped back like a stone in your stomach.

“this is killing me,” you said softly, the words breaking somewhere between your throat and your chest.

your eyes were trained on the white ceiling above you, and so were his.

max didn’t respond right away. when he finally did, his voice was quiet, almost broken. “maybe it’s time to stop.”

you closed your eyes, accepting his answer.

you’d always known that the fire would burn you alive. this thing between you wasn’t love. it was darker, messier—something that was tearing both of you apart piece by piece.

"it's never gonna ever be us, y'know?" he said, and it sounded almost like a confession.

it was the truth that had been staring both of you in the face since the very beginning.

"i know." you truly did, because it was a fact.

whatever this was, it was just fragments of what could have been—if only neither of you had been scared to ask for more.

but there were some things that were better left unsaid.

[tsandoll]

so i have the feeling taesan would be a very loving and caring boyfriend, lots of cuddles, hand holding and kisses but only when you two are alone. i don't think he would be into pda usually and you don't really have a problem with that. but i feel like sometimes he can be a bit too lowkey and straight up forgets to tell people that you're his girlfriend, he just let's them assume.

so i imagine the same thing happens with the rest of bnd. like he is totally sure that he told them about you at some point, but the problem is he totally didn't. so you are hanging out with him, when suddenly the others show up because well they live together and you are thrilled to meet his friends that he had told you so much about, but in return you just get confused expressions and the question of who you are. for a second you contemplate if you should get mad but you know how your boyfriend is and that he wouldn't keep you a secret from his friends on purpose, so when taesan introduces you just by your name and not as his girlfriend you decide to play along and act as if you're just a friend while you are hanging out with the guys.

but as soon as taesan and you are alone it's like something switches. 'so when were you gonna tell your friends that we're together?' you ask him and his eyes go wide, but before he can apologize you laugh a bit to show that you're not really mad, but what you are is determined. you push him down on the bed and straddle him, leaning close to whisper in his ear:"i'm gonna make you regret it."

your mission for the night: let everyone in the entire house hear taesan so that there will be no doubt about who you are. but as taesan is usually not too loud you know you have to give him a very special treatment tonight.

oh, i wanna hear his moans so badly, i just know they sound heavenly and so hot, especially when giving him head, imagine him lying on the bed hair sticking to his forehead looking at you with a fucked-out expression after you've already made him cum and whine when you just keep going, overstimulating him because you love hearing and seeing him like this, so desperate for your touch and not caring anymore about who could hear him because he is too focused on you and the pleasure you are giving him.

and i want to see him face the others in the morning, shyly avoiding their eyes and cheeks burning red because he knows they heard him.

💙

(im so sorry it's taken so long to get to your asks :(( i just always want to give a good response to these so badly so i put it off more and more until i feel like i can do it justice.. sorry nonnie 💔)

there's a certain point he reaches where he can no longer control himself. it wouldn't matter who could hear him,, all that would matter is you an show you're making him feel in that moment. he'd already be so sensitive, so needy for release when you put your mouth on him. your mouth would be so warm and you'd lower onto his length, taking him in the back of your throat so easily. he'd immediately moan out loud, his hips suddenly jutting upward. he'd grip onto whatever he can around him because he has to find some way to ground himself. your head would bob up and down his length, holding his hips in place so he can't squirm away from you. he would be so ruined already, all of his whines would come close to sounding like cries. honestly if you didn't give him a bit of mercy right now he might actually cry. he's getting louder and louder and it's making you smile.. he looks dizzy when you look up at him, like he can't keep himself together. gosh he's gonna be so embarrassed later on when he's not focused on holding his orgasm back. his whole body would be hot, the gentle shudder of his body is only warming him up more. when you pull off of his length to just stroke it for a moment you would be able to see how red his tip is. he needs to cum so so badly so you finally let him. he would let out the most beautiful string of moans when he finally cums, tugging at his hair and thrusting into your mouth gently. he thought the torture was finally over but you'd keep stroking him through it.. stroking him even faster once he's run out of cum for the time being. this is when he'd really lose it, moaning and begging for you to stop, but you don't <3 not until you feel like everyone's heard him well enough!!

[secret-moonstruck]

STUCK ON ME | Y.JW

— Pairing: Jungwon x fem!reader | (Masterlist)

— Synopsis: Y/N found an abandoned kitten in the rain but she didn't expect things to end this way.

— Genre: smut

— Warnings: unprotected sex, cum inside, making out, begging, hickeys, blood, overstimulation.

— Notes: I'm new to this writing thing, and English is not my first language. Sorry for not writing so well, I wish to improve and bring better and well-written stories.

The rain fell heavily as the shadow watched Y/N typing on her laptop. 

When he noticed that she started to pack her things to leave, he smiled, his fangs showing. 

- This is going to be an interesting meal. - He said before transforming.

Y/N was focused on finishing writing a chapter that she didn't notice the heavy rain or how dark it was, as soon as she noticed this, she started to packing her things to leave.

Running home she heard a meow and stopped to see where it was coming from, she then saw a kitten hiding from the rain in a corner, without thinking she picked it up and hugging it to protect it from the rain took it to her apartment.

Y/N dried the kitten and fed him, when she made sure he was comfortable, she went to take a shower and warm up as she was still soaked from the rain.

While sleeping that night Y/N woke up nervous feeling like she was being watched, but she ignored it and went back to sleep.

The next day Y/N returned early from the cafe after finishing a chapter of her book. She looked for the kitten but couldn't find it, until she heard a noise coming from her room. When she opened the door she screamed in panic and tried to run away after seeing an unknown man lying comfortably on her bed. But barely taking two steps out of the room she was grabbed and thrown against the wall.

- A panicked prey always makes the meal even better. - He said, inhaling her scent, feeling her fear.

- Who are you? - Y/N asked shakily.

- Who i am? I'm Jungwon and you're Y/N, my sweet prey.

In the midst of her panic, she remembered the kitten and asked if he had done anything to him.

- So sweet, worried about me? - A falsely sweet smile appeared on his face. - Don't you understand yet? There is no kitten, it was me all along. So easy to fool, a little transformation and you're down immediately.

As soon as he finished speaking, he bit her. The pain at first was horrible, but soon she felt something strange, a shiver ran through her entire body, she was feeling pleasure.

When Y/N moaned Jungwon stopped immediately, he didn't expect that, she must have been screaming to death in pain. Only then did he realize how there was something different in his blood.

- What are you? - He asked confused. - Whatever, it doesn't matter

Before she could think about running away he bit her again. Her blood wasn't just sweet, it wasn't just something that satisfied his hunger, there was something more powerful, something that was messing with his head and his body. He wanted more, but not only that, it made him want her. Her body, her soul, everything, she should be his.

Fear still hovered over Y/N, but at the same time she wanted it, the feeling was too good, she wanted him to devour her in every possible way.

- Damn, I can't believe I'm going to do this. - Jungwon decided to keep her alive at least for now.

- Do what? - Y/N asked scared. But instead of giving an answer he kissed her.

This shocked her more than if he had killed her. The kiss was fierce, his body pressing hers against the wall, while he firmly held her waist, the other hand grabbed her right leg, his claws squeezing it tightly, making it bleed. 

- Please, devour me. - Y/N begged between moans. He more than immediately obeyed her. 

Both clothes being quickly removed from their bodies, he ached to possess her.

He picked her up on his lap, his cock desperate to be inside her, and soon it was. 

She could die there and she would be happy, the way he fucked her as if he had been waiting for this for centuries.

Y/N was grateful that he was holding her because she was sure she couldn't stand, her legs were weak, her whole body was losing strength as she felt him going so fiercely deep inside her. 

Nothing felt like enough, Jungwon wanted more from her, more and more, as his head spun with the sensation of being inside her, he varied between kissing her roughly or drinking some more of her blood. 

With her blood dripping down his lips as he sucked her, he knew he couldn't take it anymore, the way she clenched around him as she felt the pleasure as he drank her blood.

Y/N's moans could be heard in the distance as she reached her orgasm, tears streaming down her face as he finally came inside pushing more and more into her. Y/N head falling onto his shoulder in exhaustion when it was finally over.

Even overwhelmed she thought about how she would probably be killed next, an ironic smile on her lips as she thought that at least it would be a good death. Soon after, she fainted.

When she woke up Y/N was confused, she thought she would be dead by now. She tried to get up, but felt her hand trapped. Of course she was alive, but it was too much to ask for him to leave and let her live as if nothing had happened.

- Finally woke up. - Jungwon's voice came from the other side of the room.

- Why am I arrested? - Y/N didn't mind asking rudely, death no longer scared her.

- Because my sweet Y/N, I don't want to have to chase you if you try to run away. - I don't have the patience for that kind of thing.

- But why haven't you killed me yet? Are you going to keep me trapped here so I always have a snack at your disposal?

- I wish that was it. - His expression was a mixture of anger and disappointment. - Unfortunately, I can't kill you. 

Jungwon sat on the bed next to her touching her face with a smile full of sarcasm. He looked increasingly angry.

- There is a story, which I never believed, about how vampires are supposedly always destined to find someone, the person they would give their life for in exchange to protect. A person to whom they would give their entire being, whom they are destined to serve. Baseless idiocy. - He said, squeezing her face while analyzing her.

- I always thought they were just stories, but guess what? Apparently this is real. - He released her face angrily, moving away.

- Why did I have to drink your blood? Why didn't I choose another victim? Just you with your stupid blood that bewitched me. - If I didn't want to have you so much for myself I would kill you now, not because it's normal for me, but because I hate you so much for doing this to me. - He was clearly in agony.

- Is that what they call karma? - Y/N said laughing loudly. - You tried to terrorize me and kill me. And now you're saying you stuck with me?

He looked at her in disbelief. Y/N was nothing like he imagined, she wasn't afraid of him, the look of superiority and control she had over him made him feel small. It should be the opposite, he is the monster here, he is the one who should have control over her, not the other way around.

- Let me go. - Y/N ordered. Even though he was angry, Jungwon couldn't help but follow Y/N's orders, her voice had some kind of power over him, it was like a spell, and now he was the one who couldn't escape.

— Note2: Sorry if it's not good, I'll try to improve it.

[sosa2imagines]

Hey can I please request a Lloyd x reader where she is his ex-wife but he wants her back? Maybe they have a child together (they're the only people who he is really sweet and soft with, he lights up when he sees them) and idk maybe their child wants them together too? He's trying to find excuses to see her or kiss her and he has their child as a support?

Idk whatever you find interesting or have inspo for ❤️

Thank you for this amazing ask. I hope you like it. Warning- Little angst and fluff.

Your hands tremble slightly as you pack your son's backpack for his weekend with Lloyd. It’s a routine exchange, one you've done countless times since the divorce, but the familiar ache always lingers. 

Sharing custody of Victor is always a bittersweet affair. Every time you see him, the resemblance to his father becomes more and more apparent. His bright eyes and mischievous smile are like a living reminder of what you once had together. Yet, despite the pang in your heart, you push your feelings aside, knowing that this arrangement is for the best.

The doorbell rings, and you exhale deeply before opening it.

Lloyd stands before you, immaculate in his polo shirt and with that same cocky smirk you've come to know all too well. Despite your best efforts, your pulse quickens at the sight of him, a reaction you've tried to suppress but have never been able to completely control.

Damn that moustache! Always been your weakness.

You fix your expression, forcing a neutral smile as you step aside to let him in. You're used to this routine by now, but the sight of him still dredges up a mix of emotions you'd rather keep bottled up.

“Ready for our little guy?” he asks, his voice annoyingly smooth, like melted chocolate. Victor bolts past you, yelling, “Daddy!” as Lloyd scoops him up effortlessly, peppering his son's face with exaggerated kisses that make the boy squeal with laughter.  

When your son was born, Lloyd had named him Victor, saying he's his biggest victory in life.

You force a polite smile, ignoring the way Lloyd's eyes flick to yours, softening. He always looks at you like that, like you're still the most important thing in his world, even after everything.  

After Sierra Six.  

The memory burns like acid. Sierra Six had been your breaking point. Lloyd's obsession with catching the rogue operative consumed him, pulling him deeper into his dangerous world and further away from you. You had begged him to walk away, to prioritize his family, but he couldn’t let it go.  

“You don't understand, Sugar!” he'd said during one of your final arguments, his voice sharp but his eyes pleading. “This isn't just a mission. It's personal.”  

It became personal for you too, when Six's retaliation nearly cost you and Victor your lives. A car bomb meant for Lloyd had detonated outside your home, leaving shards of glass and smoke as a grim reminder of the risk you couldn’t live with anymore. You’d left that night, taking Victor with you, and filed for divorce shortly after.  

“Thanks for packing his stuff…” Lloyd says now, breaking you out of your thoughts. He hesitates, then adds, “You could come with us, you know? We're just going to the park.”  

“That’s your time with him…” you reply, keeping your tone neutral.  

Victor tugs at your sleeve. “But, Mommy, you should come! Daddy says he misses you.”  

Your breath catches, and Lloyd clears his throat, awkwardly running a hand through his perfectly styled hair. “Victor, buddy, why don't you go grab your soccer ball from the car?”  

Once Victor bounds away, Lloyd steps closer. “He’s not wrong…” he says softly, his gaze holding yours.  

“Lloyd…” You start to protest, but he cuts you off.  

“I know I screwed up. I know I didn’t protect you the way I should have, but I’m trying, Sugar. I’m trying to fix things. For you. For Victor. For us.”  

You cross your arms, a shield against the vulnerability in his voice. “You can’t just say these things and expect everything to magically go back to how it was.”  

“Then let me show you...” he says, taking another step closer. His hand brushes yours, testing waters. “Let me prove it to you.”  

Before you can respond, Victor runs back, his soccer ball in hand. “I got it! Mommy, are you coming with us?”  

Lloyd kneels down, pulling Victor into a side hug. “Tell you what, buddy. Why don’t we see if we can convince Mommy to join us next time, huh?”  

Victor pouts dramatically, his big eyes, the same shade of blue as his father’s turns on you, “Please, Mommy? Daddy says families should stick together.”  

Your heart squeezes at the sight of them, your two boys. Lloyd stands, his eyes never leaving yours, and he leans down just slightly, so close you can feel the warmth of his breath.  

“Think about it…” he murmurs, before pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. It lingers, a promise in its tenderness, and leaves you standing there, your resolve crumbling ever so slightly.  

As they walk away, Victor waves enthusiastically, and Lloyd throws you a smile over his shoulder. It’s cocky and hopeful all at once, like he knows the kiss wasn’t just for show.  

Maybe, just maybe, he’ll find a way to win you back.  

The weekend passes slowly without Victor. You spend the quiet hours tidying up, trying to distract yourself from the lingering thoughts of Lloyd’s kiss and the words he left unspoken. But no matter how hard you try, you can’t stop replaying his plea, “Let me prove it to you.”  

On Sunday evening, Lloyd drops Victor off as planned. Your son runs inside, chattering about their adventures at the park, the ice cream truck they chased down, and how Daddy let him drive his tiny remote-controlled car.  

Lloyd lingers at the door.  

“Can I come in for a minute?” he asks. His tone is careful, cautious, as though he’s testing the waters.  

You hesitate, but something about the vulnerability in his expression makes you step aside. “Just for a minute…” you say.  

Victor is already in the living room, playing with his toys, oblivious to the quiet tension between you and his father.  

Lloyd takes a deep breath, his hands stuffed into his pockets. “I’ve been thinking about what you said the other day. About things not magically going back to how they were.” He pauses, his gaze locking onto yours. “You’re right. They won’t. And they shouldn’t. Because I want things to be better than they were before.”  

You swallow hard, your heart beating faster, “Lloyd, I…”  

“Let me finish, Sugar.” His voice softens, and he steps closer, closing the distance between you. “I’m not asking you to forgive me overnight. I’m not asking you to forget what I did or the pain I caused. I just… I’m asking for a chance to show you that I’ve changed. That I’m trying to be the man you and Victor deserve.”  

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but you hold them back. “You think one kiss and a few sweet words will fix everything?”  

“No!” he says firmly. “But I think being here, every day, showing you how much I care… that might. I’m not giving up on us, Sugar. Not now, not ever.”  

Before you can respond, Victor runs up to the two of you, holding a drawing in his little hands. “Look! I made this at Daddy’s house!”  

The picture is messy but a clear stick-figure family of three, all holding hands. Above it, in Victor’s uneven handwriting, are the words, “My family.”

Your chest tightens, and you glance at Lloyd, whose eyes are filled with unshed tears. He kneels down to Victor’s level, gently ruffling his hair. “That’s a beautiful drawing, buddy.”  

Victor grins and turns to you. “Mommy, don’t you think we should be a family again? Daddy’s been so sad without you.”  

You look down at your son, then at Lloyd, who is watching you with a mixture of hope and fear.  

“I don’t know, Victor,” you say softly. “It’s… complicated.”  

“But you love Daddy, right?” Victor asks innocently, his big blue eyes staring up at you.  

You hesitate, the truth sitting heavy on your tongue. “Yes…” you finally admit. “I do.”  

Lloyd stands, his expression unreadable. “Sugar, I know I’ve made mistakes. And I’ll spend the rest of my life making up for them if you’ll let me.”  

Victor tugs on your hand, his face lighting up with excitement. “Please, Mommy? Let Daddy stay.”  

The weight of the moment presses down on you. Slowly, you nod, your voice barely above a whisper. “Okay. Let’s see where this goes.”  

Lloyd’s eyes widen in surprise, and then a rare, genuine smile spreads across his face. “You mean it?”  

“Yes,” you say, a small smile tugging at your lips. “But you’re on thin ice, Hansen.”  

He chuckles, his confidence returning. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, Sugar.”  

Victor cheers, throwing his arms around both of you, and for the first time in a long time, you feel a flicker of hope.  

Maybe, just maybe, you can be a family again.  

The days that follow are a whirlwind of emotions. Lloyd takes your cautious ‘okay’ as a challenge to prove himself, and he doesn’t waste any time.  

He starts small, picking Victor up from school, helping him with homework, and showing up at your door with dinner. Each time he’s around, you find yourself torn between wanting to push him away and feeling your walls crumble a little more.  

One evening, as you’re washing dishes, Lloyd appears beside you, drying a plate you hadn’t asked him to touch. “You know,” he says, his voice low and teasing, “we make a pretty good team.”  

“Lloyd, I don’t need your help.” you say, trying to focus on the sink.  

He leans in closer, his breath warm against your cheek. “You might not need it, but I like being here. With you.”  

Your face heats up, and you elbow him gently. “Back off, Hansen.”  

But instead of retreating, he grins and presses a kiss to your temple, quick and soft. You whirl on him, glaring. “What do you think you’re doing?”  

“Testing my limits,” he replies smugly, holding up his hands as if in surrender. “You’re adorable when you’re mad.”  

You roll your eyes, but the blush on your cheeks betrays you. He notices, of course, and his grin only grows wider.  

Lloyd’s efforts intensifies over the period.

Over the next few weeks, Lloyd becomes a constant presence in your life. He shows up unannounced with groceries, fixes the broken cabinet in your kitchen, and even surprises Victor with a mini soccer goal for the backyard.  

One afternoon, while Victor is napping, you find yourself sitting on the porch with Lloyd. He’s unusually quiet, his gaze fixed on the horizon.  

“Why are you doing all this?” you ask, breaking the silence.  

He looks at you, his expression sincere. “Because I lost you once, Sugar. And I’m not making that mistake again. You and Victor… you’re everything to me.”  

The raw honesty in his voice leaves you speechless. Before you can think of a response, he leans in, brushing his lips against yours. It’s soft, tentative, as if he’s giving you a chance to pull away. But you don’t.  

When he deepens the kiss, his hand rests gently on your cheek, you lose yourself for a moment, the familiar warmth of him overwhelming your senses.  

When you finally pull back, your heart is racing. “You’re impossible…” you mutter, your cheeks burning.  

“And you’re beautiful,” he replies, his lips quirking into a lopsided smile. 

Despite your reluctance to admit it, Lloyd’s persistence begins to wear down your defenses. He’s patient with Victor, kind to you, and relentless in his mission to win you back.  

One night, as you’re tucking Victor into bed, he grabs your hand. “Mommy, do you still love Daddy?”  

Caught off guard, you glance at Lloyd, who’s standing in the doorway, watching you with an unreadable expression.  

“I…” you start, unsure of how to answer.  

“I know you do,” Victor says confidently. “Because you smile more when he’s here.”  

Lloyd chuckles softly, stepping into the room. “Our kid is a great observer, you can’t hide anything from him.” he teases.  

“Go to sleep, Victor…” you say quickly, pressing a kiss to your son’s forehead before retreating to the living room.  

Lloyd follows you, closing the door behind him. “He’s not wrong, you know,” he says quietly.  

You sigh, turning to face him. “Lloyd, this isn’t easy for me. You broke my trust…”  

“And I’ll spend the rest of my life earning it back!” he interrupts, stepping closer. “You’re the only woman I’ve ever loved, and I’ll fight for you every day if that’s what it takes.”  

Tears well up in your eyes as you finally let the weight of his words sink in. “I’m scared…” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.   

“I know,” he whispers, cupping your face in his hands. “But I’m here, Sugar. I’m not going anywhere.”  

The next morning, you wake up to the smell of pancakes. Victor’s laughter echoes from the kitchen, and when you walk in, you see Lloyd standing at the stove, flipping pancakes like he’s been doing it for years.  

“Morning, Sugar,” he says, flashing you a boyish grin. “Thought I’d make breakfast for my family.”  

You shake your head, but there’s no hiding the smile on your face.  

Later that day, as the three of you play soccer in the backyard, Victor pauses and looks up at you. “Does this mean Daddy’s staying forever?”  

You glance at Lloyd, who’s watching you with hopeful eyes. Slowly, you nod. “Yeah, buddy... I think it does.”  

Victor cheers, throwing his arms around both of you. Lloyd pulls you close, pressing a kiss to your hair.  

“I love you…” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion.  

And for the first time in a long time, you let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, you could have your happy ending after all. 

 

Taglist- @blackhawkfanatic @ordelixx @sapphirebarnes @ilovetaquitosmmmm

@differenttyphoonwerewolf @vicmc624 @thezombieprostitute @nekoannie-chan

@mrvl-addict @mercurial-chuckles

@emerald-writes @caplanbuckybarnes

@redbloodedgurl @cjand10 @chemtrails-club @slutforchrisjamalevans @gracescor3

@ghostlythinggoingaround @princezzjasmine @3xclusivemariii @ephemeral-oasis @zuri-767-666

@geeky-politics-46 @dexter99 @calwitch

@caplanreblogsfics @winterslove1917

@pono-pura-vida @renegadesgirl1991 @iwudbutnah @ghalouha @sebastians-love @saranghaey @greatmistakes @baw1066

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@unaxv @pattiemac1 @lovely-geek @hzdhrtss @kpopgirlbtssvt

[hellinistical]

more hcs of rafayel with a desi/mena girl cause im in need. and yeah it does lean more towards Muslim girls BUT anyone can read obviously.

He's actually not that great at fasting. At least, not when it becomes something he has to do. The man can be painting all day and not eat but the second it becomes obligatory? Pain.

And he's also not that great in the fact that he can't really go to bed with you, ya know? cause he's gotta stay away from lust.

Brushes his teeth obsessively during Ramadan cause he'd be damned if his breath got rank when he wants to kiss you.

designs your hijabs and abayas, lehengas, dupattas- everything.

he's designed your rings so why not ya know?

I think he'd be really just obsessed with doing your henna even for occasions that are just ordinary. He'd have you guys have matching designs or better yet- connecting ones (where if you lay side by side or put your hands or whatever together the picture all connects.) giggles cause its yalls secret. his name is on you somewhere and yours is on his.

The type to claim to be a picky eater but that's just not the case. at least, for the most part.

He'll eat stuff like mansaf with lamb head or even jadoo—oh, but you can't deny him his seafood.

on eid, or rather, the night before, he cant sleep. he'd be far too excited and try to stay up all night like its a game between you two.

Eid outfits? oh you're KILLING it- no one is even coming close to you guys. he takes it seriously and loves the feeling that he's out done everyone. getting ready on the phone with your cousins and siblings and they're just "oh my god." cause they weren't expecting you to pop off AGAIN.

Somehow finds a way to get the best parking spot at the place the eid prayer gets even though its jam packed. He finds it. probably had thomas hold his place too. There will be no 10+ minutes of walking in your heels and nice clothes dragging on the side walk just to get to the car.

But aside from that, hates how crowded eid prayer gets and even though you wanna go early cause all your friends are going early he'd prefer to go when the last round of it is going. and the fact that itd be easier to find a parking spot.

is he queasy when picking out a lamb or goat? nah. I can see him pretending that he doesn't wanna do the slaughter but he does. picks out the one with the most meat on (and if you like the more fatty pieces makes sure to save those when he takes home the portions you guys want before donating the rest).

when you go to the mosque, he parks closer to the women section so its easier for you. and makes sure to get there early cause ofc he's gotta get a good spot. Always has a water bottle on hand, maybe some makeup wipes and an extra palette- knows how to fix your makeup for you. SUPER fast with it too.

If you wanna rant to him about podcast bros and wannabe tiktok sheikhs he'll gladly join in and help clown them. Cause who is he to let some buffoon, some deranged man (cough based bengali but don't come for me there's more) who graduated at tiktok university try and act like they know everything to upset his wife? He is not the one.

matter of fact hes probably doxed a couple just for the nonsense they say- (or maybe exposed them....)

should i do more

[nonranghaes]

heads up: panic attack. vent for writer.

jisung knows how to take care of you now. he shuts your laptop, setting it aside as he quickly books it to the fridge and back to push a cold water bottle into your hands. you're getting overwhelmed, rambling up a storm about an assignment you did that now looks like you copied someone else who had the same idea. he tells you that it happens, that its normal, and to just email your professor about it... but he knows you. he knows himself. sometimes little things feel too big to handle, and they blow up like this. he holds his hands over your own, thumbs tracing alongside the inside of your wrists.

"it's okay," he says, keeping his voice as calm as he can. "it's gonna be okay. it's early enough. you haven't done any work yet. if she wants you to change it, it'll be okay. you're going to be fine."

you sniffle, tears streaming down your cheeks as you struggle to breathe as your chest grows tighter. you're babbling all over again: what if what if what if she gets mad at you what if she hasn't graded your assignment because she reached out to your advisors who's on vacation what if you're in the process of getting in major trouble for a misunderstanding and you just don't know it yet?

he kisses your forehead, gentle as can be, and his hands slide up to your biceps. "honey. i promise, it's going to be okay."

the water bottle slips from your hands, hitting the floor and rolling away as you move in to hold him. you squeeze your eyes shut, breathing growing more rapid as you try to hide. from what, you don't even know, but you bury your face in his chest and grab fistfuls of the back of his shirt. he embraces you, tracing circles on your back as you sob.

"it's okay," he says again. "just get it out..."

and you do. you sob into his shirt, losing yourself for a minute. two, five. you lose track. but you pull away, breathing a little more even, face stained with tears. and you meet his eyes after a moment, sniffling still.

"'m sorry..." you wipe at your face with your sleeve. "'m overreacting again--"

"it's okay," he cups your cheeks. "i'd panic, too. would i be overreacting?"

he knows the answer is yes. but he knows you'll say no, just because neither of you downplay each other's feelings in the moment even if you do sometimes laugh over the stupid things later on. he kisses your forehead again, wiping away some of your tears with his thumbs. he reaches down, scooping up the water bottle and offering it to you again. without a word, you accept it, twisting off the cap and taking a long sip of it before passing it back to him.

"better?" he says quietly. and when you nod, he sighs in relief. "i think... before you do your next assignment... we should do something silly."

you nod, and then reach for your laptop. "after i email her. will you--"

"yes." he kisses your cheek, always on the same wavelength as you when it comes to moments like these. "i'll read it before you send it. do you want a snack?" he stands, stretching, already ready to hunt in the kitchen for whatever will make you smile the most. "i'll grab us some snacks."

"yes, please." you open up your email, and wait a moment before turning to watch him go. "i love you."

he beams as he spins to face you one last time now, already making a heart with his arms, just to hear you laugh a little at him being silly for you. "i love you more!"

[theworldofotps]

Forgotten Birthday (Drabble)

Pairing: Bayley x OC Bri Word Count 645 Description: Bri thinks Bayley forgot her birthday.

Wishing the happiest birthday to one of the best friends a person could have. @madhatterbri having you in my life this past year has truly been an adventure. I hope you get all you wish for, and that this next year is amazing because you deserve nothing less than the best. I love you bunches _______ Tag list: @omg-im-such-a-masochist​ @melissahausen​ @new-zealand-chic​ @writtingrose​ @99hook @madhatterbri  @sassymox​ @mrsacklesevansmgk​ @xladyxfatex​ @adamcolesbaybay @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch​ @demonqueen29​ @itsicantbelievethis666​ @lilred91​ @rebellious-desires​ @surdelcielo @letsgivethisonemoreshot @ava-valerie​ @shortyiceheart​ @serpantscorpio8497​ @thatpanpal​ @wrestlersownmyheart​ @vebner37​​ @seeingstarks​ @whenimakeitshine1234​ @legit9thlunaticwarrior​ @blaquekitty​ @ironshamelessyouth​ @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin​ @ripleyswhore @moonrosekk @xbreezymeadowsx @terrortwinunicorn @alyyaanna  @elevennbloom @melblacc @alliwant456  @mcreignsera @auburnwrites​ @aews-four-pillars @thatnerdwriter​ @sjwrites22 If you wanna be added to the list lemme know. ______

Bayley had been acting strangely all day, and to say that Bri was a little disappointed was an understatement. Of course she knew her girlfriend was busy with work and all the traveling she did with WWE. Forgetting an anniversary was something a lot of people did but it was already mid morning and Bayley still hadn’t wished her a happy birthday yet. The small subtle hints that Bri tried to give were brushed off with vague replies or simple humming sounds. Bri had received countless texts and messages from friends wishing her a happy birthday, and yet the person who she wanted to hear it from the most was silent.

‘It’s going to be fine. I don't want to make her feel bad if she did forget but I also want her to know she forgot.’

She was torn on what to do, so she stayed quite hoping desperately that something would remind her girlfriend. By the time evening rolled around, Bri had resigned herself to the fact that Bayley must have genuinely forgotten. Bri tried her best to mask her disappointment, forcing a smile when Bayley mentioned something about dinner.

“Sure, whatever you feel like babe.”

She says sinking into the couch, while her girlfriend nodded and disappeared into the kitchen, mumbling something about calling in the order. A short while later Bayley returned and motioned for Bri to follow her. 

“Hey, could you come help me grab something from the patio?” 

Bri arched an eyebrow confused on what she could be getting from outside when she had been ordering dinner

“What is it?”

“It’s just… heavy.”

Bayley said, fidgeting with the ends of her shirt and winked at her girlfriend.

“C’mon, you’re always saying how much stronger you are than me. Well here is your chance to prove that.”

With a sigh, Bri got up and followed her through the house. The only sound was their footsteps as they walked. Bayley pushed the door open and stepped aside, motioning for Bri to walk out first. The patio was dark which was unusual since the lights should have turned on by now.

“Hold on baby let me get the lights.”

Bayley flicked a switch and a chorus of voices yelled out “Surprise!”

Bri’s eyes widened as she took in the scene before her, the patio had been transformed into a cozy celebration space. Streamers and balloons in her favorite colors hung from the roof twirling around posts. A small table was covered with snacks, cupcakes, and a couple of neatly wrapped gift boxes. At the center of the table was a cake that read, ‘Happy Birthday, Bri!’ in elegant frosting.

Bayley stood behind her with a proud grin, holding a party hat in her hands then stepped forward placing it on her girlfriend’s head.

“Did you really think I forgot?” 

She teased putting her own hat on and kissing Bri’s forehead gently as their friends began gathering around.

Bri turned to her, her voice soft a light blush covering her cheeks.

“I… I honestly did. You were so quiet about it.”

“That’s because I didn’t want you to suspect anything babe, you’re the most important person in my life. How could I ever forget your birthday?”

Bri felt a lump rise in her throat, her earlier disappointment melting away into pure joy. She laughed, shaking her head in amusement as she looked at the woman before her.

“You’re sneaky, you know that?”

“I prefer ‘thoughtful.”

Bayley quipped, pulling her into a warm hug pressing another tender kiss to her head. The rest of the evening was filled with laughter, shared memories, and stolen kisses. Bayley’s small surprise turned out to be perfect—intimate and heartfelt, just like their relationship. As Bri blew out the candles on her cake, she made a wish that every year with Bayley would be just as magical as this one.

[boldlyshamlessfangirl]

Fanfic Perview: Not a Full Plot (yet)

This was crazy.

They were hardly work colleagues let alone compatible in any other respects but not even those annoying thoughts had stopped her from making what was sure to be a massive mistake on her part.

But hey, maybe if she got it (whatever it was) out of her system now it would give an answer to the buzzing kiss her, kill her question fogging her mind more and more as the two continued working together.

So here she was.

Standing at the stove making breakfast for dinner whilst the most annoyingly attractive woman Agnes had ever met snoops around her living room.

More than a few bread slices were lost to the blackness causing toaster when Agnes becomes more than a little distracted attempting to keep the wondering fed in her sights.

"What about this one?"

Agnes humed a curious "huh?" While munching on one of the finally cooled strips of browned bacon.

"For the movie side of this, not a date breakfast dinner with a movie date you've asked me over for." Rio answers, holding up the chosen DVD case a little higher.

She hadn't expected the hissed curse that spilled from Agnes's lips when the spell hazed detective noticed the title in Rio's hand.

"Not-- how'd you find -" Agnes stammers, making a lunged grab for the movie case.

Rio grins curiously as she easily dances out of reach prize still in hand "Oh come on. I'm not going to snitch as I think the kids say these days." Lady Death assures her. "I think it's cute really something to break up all this dull action bravado trash you keep trying to hide behind."

Agnes's pouting glare didn't waver at the insult intended dig at her meager dvd selection. "It's not like that's a happy ending movie anyways." The detective reminds turning back to watching over the cooking bacon crackling away on the stove.

"Still a love story." Rio points out.

"Some of the songs are catchy, alright. Just pick something else while I start scrambling the eggs. " Agnes barks, nudging the refrigerator closed with her hip after digging out the meager carton of eggs.

"Nope, I want to watch this one." Rio pushes back enjoying the creeping blush coloring her mind muddled lovers cheeks.

"Please," Rio adds, then needing to physically bite down on her tongue with a force that had she been human would have bitten through it to keep the begging "My love" from finishing out the asking.

Ask note:

Should I keep going?

[rhiannonsknife]

confession… i’ve only JUST finished watching yellowjackets 🫥

anyway i’m thinking a lot about adult shauna (but honestly when am i not?). something about the way she’s always seen her love as fatal, that anyone who gets close to her will die or be taken away from her. makes me so upset :(

i need to give her a million little kisses and teach her that it’s okay to love and it’s not something to be scared of. that her love is not dangerous and she’s not a monster.

- 🦔

now why would you do this to me 🦔 anon?? all i do is cry to your asks god DAMN!!

the first time shauna lets you touch her, really touch her, feels like it’s not real at all. like your imagination is playing tricks on you, allowing you to see a version of her where she actually lets you do what you’ve been wanting to for the longest time.

not because she’s unattainable or distant with you (though she can be), but because you know how much effort it takes for her to let anyone in. every gesture, every word, every tender feeling is something she has learned to be wary of, something that might explode in her face if she’s not careful enough. and you, you’re relentless. gentle, but relentless. and that scares her more than anything else.

“why do you even want this?” she asks that night, her voice raw, her body a rigid line beside you in your bed. the rest of the room is dark, save for the soft glow of the bedside lamp behind shauna. she’s on her back, looking up at the ceiling instead of at you.

“you should…” the pillow rustles under her head when she turns to look at you. “i don’t know…walk away! otherwise it’ll be too late,”

her words get to you. not because you believe them, but because shauna does. you prop yourself up on one elbow, looking down at her. “too late for what?” you ask. “to love you?”

shauna’s jaw clenches, and she turns her head away. “i was gonna say survive me,” she scoffs.

you can see the ghosts she carries behind her eyes, the weight of years spent convincing herself that loving her is not a blessing but a curse. that the things she’s done, the things she’s lived through that she never talks about, have left her irreparably broken. dangerous, maybe even.

“shauna,” you whisper, your fingers brushing against her arm. she flinches at first, but you don’t pull away. you let your hand settle, a warm, grounding sensation against her cool skin. “your love isn’t fatal,”

she exhales a shaky breath, her eyes still fixed on the ceiling. “you don’t even know what i’ve done,”

“i don’t have to,” you tell her firmly. “whatever it is, it doesn’t define you. it…it doesn’t make you unworthy of being loved!”

shauna’s lips press into a thin line, her defenses cracking but not yet crumbling. you shift closer, letting your hand trail up to her face. when you cradle her cheek, she finally turns to look at you again.

“you’re not some kind of monster,” you say softly, your thumb brushing the curve of her cheek. “and if you think for just a second that i’m scared of loving you, you’re wrong.”

“and what if i ruin you? what then?” she whispers, her voice barely audible.

“you won’t,” you promise quietly. if she wasn’t so close to you, she wouldn’t hear it at all. “you won’t ruin me, shauna”

you lean down and press the gentlest kiss to her forehead. it’s not hurried or desperate. it’s steady, deliberate, a vow in its own right and so unlike your usual encounters. then another kiss, this one to her temple, and then her cheek. a million little reminders that you’re still here, that she’s safe.

shauna’s breath hitches as she reaches up, her hand trembling as it finds yours where it rests against her face. she just holds it there, her fingers curling around yours as you press another kiss to her jaw, and then one to the side of her mouth.

her lips part slightly, a shaky exhale escaping her, but she doesn’t pull away. she even leans into you, like she’s waiting to see if the world will shatter around her if she lets herself have this. and when it doesn’t, when it’s just you, she closes her eyes, her defenses crumbling at last.

“you’re safe with me,” you promise against her skin, your lips brushing her cheekbone, her temple, her hairline. you can feel her body relaxing, her breath evening out. “i’m here, shauna. i’m not going anywhere,”

[n0anix]

some icebound stuff

[leikairl]

being a multishipper in the tadc fandom is NOT for the weak wdym i ship literally everything