#they’ll kiss someday

[miivrs]

no clever caption just more of them

[gothic-mothic]

Mashing stanley and the narrator together like a kid playing with dolls trying to get them to kiss ℇ>

Yeah me too, hasn’t worked yet :/

[danandfuckingjonlmao]

dan and phil are like jesus in that they’re dramatic ass fruity men in their 30s always going like “i am making this SACRIFICE for THE PEOPLE” and everyone is like “no one asked you to do this in fact we’d all rather you just did not do this” and they’re like “IT IS TOO LATE NOW YOU HAVE TO LIVE WITH THE CONSEQUENCES THIS IS WHAT YOU WANTED” and we’re like “no no we didn’t want this actually and you made this decision with your whole ass adult brain you truly could have just not done this and we’d all be better off for it but now we all have to suffer because YOU refuse to say no to shit” and i think that’s ridiculous stupid annoying awful beautiful

[festering-bacteria]

lil choker/rolky comic….my vision is that chalky’s tired of the pressure from being perfect all the time so he asks roger to help him be bad except it doesn’t work bc he’s scared of getting yelled at

[gay-dorito-dust]

Could we please have a batboys (and Bruce) x reader who can break the 4th wall?

This was rubbish.

Dick

Would rest his head on your shoulder and ask. ‘Who are you talking to sweetheart?’

He genuinely wants to know considering the first thing he heard was you talking back his beautiful back and perfect thighs, only to find that you were saying all this to no one in particular.

‘Oh just the lovely people reading this.’ You tell him happily and Dick would only see the walls of your shared room.

‘And what are they saying?’ Dick would then say.

‘Oh I can’t hear them, nor can I really see them exactly but I just have this feeling that we are being watched -or read in this case- by many people, I can sense them and i want them to feel included in my love life with the most beautiful man Gotham has to offer.’ You tell him as you kiss him on the cheek, making him smile.

‘Well as long as they know that I am taken by you, then we’ll be okay.’ Dick replied as he kissed your forehead sweetly. Dick at first though you were just the type to talk to yourself like some people, but seeing as how it seemed as though you were more or less addressing someone rather then just talking to yourself, Dick then assumed that you might have an ability that allows you to look past this reality and into another one entirely that might be looking into this one.

It was a scary thought to think that he was being watched ,or read as you put it, by another reality but it was intriguing nonetheless the less that there was a possibility of multiple dimensions. So he could only imagine what you were able to experience if you were able to see beyond this reality to address people who probably saw him in a different form entirely.

If anything he’s extremely curious as to how your ability worked exactly as it was something that was clearly unheard of. Somedays you would address the audience as per usual but other times you didn’t address them at all, almost as though you knew where and when they’ll pay attention to you both: all so that you could entertain them for as long as possible without it coming across as excessive or too long winded.

He would try to act like he could see them too as to not have you feeling so alone, but would get flustered when you tell him that he was looking the wrong way.

He’ll leave the fourth wall breaking to you instead and will be nosy and ask all sorts of questions about your ability, all before saying that your powers was the most coolest he’s come across, but you knew he was only saying that because you were his beloved partner but that didn’t make what he said any less true.

Jason

Would raise a brow at first but would keep this tendency to himself out of a need to protect you from those who’d gladly send you away for such tendency.

Jason isn’t phased by much but you talking to a wall as though someone was there brought a weird feeling to his chest.

‘His thighs? Perfect. His stomach and autopsy scars? Delicious. Arms, hands and back? Gorgeous but all of you at home are already aware of that and could only imagine how plush his tits are-‘

‘Who are you talking to chipmunk?’ He’d ask, cutting you off as he expected you to be on the phone to someone, so imagine to his surprise when he saw your phone on charge and you were in fact talking to thin air.

‘Just the people thirsting after you.’ You’d reply as though it was common sense.

‘Thirsting?’ Jason tried the word, not liking how it sounded coming from his mouth. ‘What’s that?’

‘Just think of it as another word for desire, but they can’t have you because in their reality you’re a fictional character who gets the short end of the stick constantly by people who don’t know what to do with you in general.’ You shrugged as you looked over at him with a smile. ‘Also you get stereotyped as someone you’re not by people who obviously lack a capacity for reading given how short their attention span is.’ The last part was muttered under your breath before bringing the conversation back to him.

‘Enough about me how about you honey?’

It wasn’t the first time you’ve done this and Jason knew it wouldn’t be the last either as he would find you passionately ranting to your invisible audience about something, and while it was cute to watch you be this passionate, he also became concerned for you in case you were going through something that you didn’t want to burden him with out of a need to protect yourself.

‘You can tell me if you’re going through something you know that right?’ He’d tell you one night as he holds your face in his hands.

‘Of course I do jaybird,’ you whispered to him before watching him as he fell asleep, only to move your head elsewhere to speak to the wall. ‘Isn’t he the cutest? Truly a man unlike any other, a dying breed if you will, but I can assure you dear readers that you too will find your Jason Todd because that’s what you all deserve in life is to be loved deeply by an non-judgmental and caring man.’ You fished before joining him in your sleep.

Tim

He thinks your maladaptive daydreaming.

What else was he meant to take away from you talking to seemingly no one so passionately as you did in that moment.

He didn’t want to say that you were insane but it wasn’t everyday where a sane person would idly make conversation with thin air or a brick wall as casually as you did.

That or you were extremely lacking in sleep and were now seeing things, if that was the case then he would be able to relate to you as he had those types of days also, more often then others that’s for sure but from what Tim could tell was far from the truth as you looked bright and too well rested for that to be the answer.

And honestly? He doesn’t want to know who exactly you were talking to as not to frighting himself shitless and would act as though you talking to a crowd of no one within your shared room was completely normal in Gotham.

God forbid you start talking to this unseen audience during the night, Tim will think he’s in some sort of horror movie that he was forced to watch with the rest of his family on Halloween. Seriously who knew fourth wall breaking could come across as though you were demonically possessed?

He wants to ask who you’re talking to, he really does but if he was running low on fumes that day, really tired and wanting nothing more then sleep he would forgo all logic and just agree with what you were saying to thin air.

‘I wish I could tell you just how mean Tim can be when he’s sleep deprived, you think you know sarcasm? Wait until Tim is on about two hours of sleep and then you’ll know true sarcasm.’ You’d say.

‘Says the one who’s talking to the wall as though it had ears to listen or a mouth to respond.’ He’d replied.

‘See what Im on about? Absolutely mean when he’s sleep deprived.’ He would hear you whisper aloud but he was on the verge of falling asleep against the table to find out the true reason to your uncanny ability to break the fourth wall.

Damian

Genuinely thought something was off with how often you would look off into the distance, as though you were addressing someone he couldn’t see, like a hidden camera that lead to an unseen audience.

‘Isn’t he the cutest when he’s acting all tough,’ he’d her you say, ‘it’s like if you give a rabid chihuahua a knife but ten times worse because he can actually back up his deeply descriptive threats.’ Damian’s brow would raise at this as he watched you silently as his mind wondered who you could possibly be entertaining with such things.

Gotham has an ability to make the most strong minded person break and needles to say Damian would keep silent watch over you while you had these kinds of episodes, even when you would proudly praise his artistic skills but never to him directly, but more so to seemingly thin air with a beaming smile.

‘He’s got a future as many things and in all honestly I’m envious of how multitalented my Dami is, but at least I get to be his hype man and cheer for him no matter what, which is something I bet half of you which you could have but here I am loving your fantasy!’ You’d finish with a cackle and it left Damian smiling to himself at your pride towards him, but also still very curious as to who it was you were talking to.

‘Who are you talking to.’ He would ask you one day.

‘The audience reading this fic.’ You’d reply as though it was the most casual thing to bring up in conversation.

Damian’s brows furrowed. ‘Audience? What audience.’ He tried looking in the same direction as you, only to see nothing but his bed.

‘Oh I don’t expect you to see them but they are there,’ you tried to reassure Damian but it only came off as ominous and albeit cryptic, ‘they are always there, watching.’ You’d add and needles to say your words only made Damian go into a defensive posture at the aspect of being spectated by beings only you could seemingly engage with.

Well done you’ve made Damian somewhat paranoid as to what this audience you speak to wanted, what they wanted with you to have you keep engaging in conversation with them and what they could be planning.

‘Always watching?’ Damian asked.

‘Yep,’ you replied, ‘but not when we’re in the bathroom, that’s just really weird but other then that we are merely entertainment for them to consume on days of boredom and to grow a parasocial relationship with us to their leisure.’ You added and when you looked over at Damian, his jade eyes were wide and you winced internally, wishing you hadn’t said anything at all because now you’d knew Damian would start reaching for his sword out of instinct now.

Try and tell him it’s a joke as much as you like but Damian would now take your ability to break the fourth wall as a sign that someone was out there, watching all of you, an invisible enemy that he couldn’t kill and it pissed him off. He’ll break you free of the curse…sooner or later.

Bruce

‘That man is finer than a mother fucker and he knows it. And I know damn well all you thirsty bitches are making edits of my sexy Bruce to the song of older by Isabel LaRosa. I just know it you absolute sluts, but I can’t blame you because I would too.’ Bruce had just finished showering and the first thing he sees is you seemingly talking to a wall as though you were talking to a group of people in a whole different plan of existence.

He’s seen a lot of things in his time as Batman but someone talking to people who aren’t there? He’d assume you’re either clairvoyant or have another ability that can allow you to talk to an audience of people whom he can’t see, for whatever it was wouldn’t change Bruce’s opinion on you, powers or not.

‘My darling.’ He’d greet you as he holds you from behind. ‘May I ask why and or who you were speaking so passionately about me to?’ He adds.

‘The people reading this fanfic.’ You’d tell him as though it was a completely normal thing to admit as it was something you had been doing for as long as you could remember. Your parents thought you were talking to an invisible friend like other kids your age, but it grew concerning when you were still talking to no one in particular well into your late teens.

Bruce just raised a brow but would assume that you had some ability that you weren’t comfortable to admit to him, and he didn’t want you to feel pressured to talk to him about such a thing, especially not if you had admitted to someone in the past before and their reactions were negative.

He would just try and look deeper into this sort of thing in hopes of finding any pre-existing information about anyone showing similar signs as you and reading it deeply and intensively so that he could be well informed to know what you were going through. Bruce loves to be educated on things that he didn’t understand with the hopes of understanding it on a deeper level, so if he did managed to find something that perfectly describes what you were doing, then he’ll be reading it until he could recite it in his sleep.

He didn’t want you to feel as though you should be ashamed of your unique ability and would often take notes and things that he’d noticed you do as you addressed the invisible audiences in vivid detail. Your ability to see into another reality or anything similar to talk to people was a powerful thing to have and Bruce was fascinated by such a unique power, a power that could prove that alternate realities exist.

But Bruce would find himself intrigued with how you talked to this invisible audiences, almost as though you were greeting an old friend, whether or not this was your way to cope with the fact that you could sense an audience watching your every move and leave no privacy to be had for yourself. It was unfortunately something Bruce wasn’t quite sure but until your ability was causing you harm he would contour to watch and observe while acting as though he was unaware/ unfazed of your tendency to talking to seemingly no one.

Basically reader: you should know this too

[yuwuta]

YOU AND I TOGETHER, WON’T YOU HOLD ON TO ME — YUUTA OKKOTSU

cw mentions of children, pregnancy. so much of yuuta being happy and sappy :(( sorry i haven’t shutup about my little depressed lovesick boy making it out and living a full life. probably won’t anytime soon actually. satoru is alive and well in all my renditions of happily ever after and that won’t change either i fear  

Yuuta talks about the future often. A future with you, and him, and your friends, and a family where you’re all together forever and he gets to love you until the end of time. 

Sometimes, you think he doesn’t realize what he’s doing—dreaming about forever with you; but you can never find it in your heart to break his illusion. The boy who used to dread his next waking moment is dreaming and dreaming and dreaming, and making all of yours come true. 

It’s quiet in this part of the Gojo compound. The gentle sounds of a stream running through the garden, and chirping of birds are the only noises that disrupt your daydreams. 

Or, perhaps, fuel them. 

“I hope our kids aren’t afraid of birds,” Yuuta muses, wide eyes looking past your face up to the tall trees, full of happily singing bluebirds, “There’s so many of them here.” 

You’re gentle when you stroke his hair, taking advantage of his head in your lap to pull the longer pieces out of his eyes. 

Your smile is giddy, unfiltered. “Kids? Plural?” 

Yuuta hums with smile. His eyes remain on the sky, chasing a pair of birds that flitter between long branches. 

“Yeah. At least two, so they don’t get lonely,” he says, “They’ll have us, and their cousins, and sensei, and our friends, but they’re going to need each other at home.”

Yuuta lets his eyes fall to you at the end of his sentence, a sparkling smile on his scarred lips. 

“I see,” you smile, “At least two so they can be friends.” 

“Best friends,” he revises your statement, “So they can train together, too, if they want to be sorcerers. Or not. It’s fine, either way.” He blinks, eyes warm, “I hear that four is the happy medium for a family, but I think three is going to be easier inheritance wise, if sensei is serious about making me clan head someday.” 

“Is that so?” 

“Yeah, but if a fourth comes along, I’m sure we’ll figure it out.” 

“I’m sure sensei will have made more than enough money for them by then.” 

Yuuta giggles, earnestly in your arms at that. “Of course he will.” 

You pause for a moment, committing his laugh to memory. His features flush slightly under your gaze, and you lean down to kiss his scarred forehead. You let your hands resume petting his hair, following in his gaze to look up at the birds. 

“Tell me more about them.” 

Yuuta doesn’t waste a moment, closing his eyes; letting you paint the picture in the sky for yourself as he talks. 

“The gap between the oldest and youngest is six or seven years. I think five might be enough, though. So, that means our middle one is about three when our littlest comes along.” 

“Unless a fourth happens.” 

Yuuta hums in agreement. “Unless a fourth happens. But we’ll have time.” 

You’ll have time, you nod. You have time now, you and him; all the time in the world. 

“A three year old and newborn sounds like a lot of work.” 

“Maybe. But we’ll also have a seven year old. He’s going to want to help with the baby, so we’ll have an extra hand,” Yuuta says, “And that’s not even counting sensei and the rest.” 

“He?”

“I think he’ll be a boy, the oldest. He might look like me, but he’ll act like you, so he’s going to be Kugisaki’s favorite.”

You find yourself choking out a genuine cackle at that. When you look down, Yuuta’s got a smile wider than yours. 

“He sounds wonderful. Like his father,” you confess, “But the idea of pregnancy thrice in a seven year span sounds exhausting.” 

“We can use surrogates. Or adopt. Or whatever,” Yuuta tells you, “Gojo-sensei will help us figure it out if we need help.” 

You have no doubt about that. And now, when you look back up to the sky, you can see vignettes of Gojo-sensei with your your seven year old on his shoulders, your middle child on his hip, and the baby gnawing at his legs. 

And then Yuuji is skipping into the scene, cooing at the youngest, picking him up and consoling him effortlessly. He carries the baby over to a crib with another crying newborn that looks eerily like Megumi, whose green eyes go wide at the stranger, then smile gummy as both babies reach for each other. 

Maki is there too, tapping your eldest on the shoulder with her staff and pretending not to have done it. Nobara holds up a shirt to the middle child, brassy in questioning Gojo why she told her that the baby would fit in this size that’s obviously too big, meanwhile the toddler ignores them both, fascinated with the marks on Toge’s cheeks as he plays peek-a-boo. 

It’s not hard to imagine. The scenes in your head aren’t wild fantasies or unattainable dreams—not anymore. 

“You want a big family.” 

Yuuta nods, reaching for your hand and pulling it away from his hair, and to his lips. “We have the resources for it now. Not just financially—we have time, and lots of friends, and lots of love.” 

Yuuta presses a kiss to the back of your hand, and you smile. He’s right, there’s more than enough love to go around. 

[livwritesstuff]

for @steddie-week day 3 | long (and a little bit of mutual pining but the kind when they're literally dating which i think is even more pathetic)

tags: modern day, famous au, actor!steve, rockstar!eddie

Eddie stayed longer than he should have. 

He was supposed to leave Chicago with the rest of the band yesterday after their show at Credit Union 1 – opening night for a year-long national tour.

Eddie didn’t leave yesterday though. Instead, he insisted on spending one last night with Steve, one last morning pretending like they would actually get up and go to that breakfast spot they like even though they both knew they’d be spending the time wrapped up together in their bed, in the home they share, refusing to disentangle themselves until they had no other choice.

No other choice meant Eddie waited so long to leave that he ended up on a flight which would get him into Ohio with barely enough time to make it to the venue in Cincinnati before showtime (and he was missing soundcheck completely – sorta shot himself in the foot with that one, in Steve's opinion, though he won’t be caught complaining).

He won’t be caught doing anything – not publicly, anyway.

Steve and Eddie’s relationship is kind of in the halfway-stage between secret and private, where Steve posts vague, faceless photos of the two of them every now and then but still deflects questions about his romantic life during interviews because – look. He and Eddie are both at weird high-points in their careers at the moment, and that means there’s a lot of eyes on them whether they like it or not. Steve had a public relationship turn sour years ago and there is no way in hell he’s letting it happen again.

Not with Eddie. Not when it counts.

There are speculations, obviously (and after Steve dropped Eddie off at O'Hare, he posted a photo of the Kiss n’ Fly sign to his IG story with the caption i hate this place :( – mostly for his own amusement at the specific way his notifications implode afterward), and they’ll probably get around to an official hard-launch someday, but for now Steve likes that they’re keeping things to themselves, especially when they don’t get to make that choice with much else.

Steve gets a just landed text from Eddie a few hours after he boarded his plane.

(Steve knew. He’d been tracking the flight).

Before he could respond, Eddie added, miss you so fn much

i miss you too, Steve texted back, and before either of them could wallow in it too much, he sent, gonna make it on time?

probably, Eddie answered. Then, getting ready in the car lol

He goes quiet after that (the getting ready, presumably), which is fine.

Steve gets it.

He’s busy too. It’s why he’s not following along on Eddie’s tour like some glorified groupie, and it’s not like the distance is anything new. On the contrary, it’s been an element of their relationship since they met at an awards show after-party four years ago. It’s more that this time around, they were supposed to only have four-and-a-half weeks together before Steve headed off on a press tour for the movie he filmed last year, but then that got pushed out a bit further, and so that four-and-a-half weeks together turned into a glorious nine, the longest Steve and Eddie’s calendars had ever been aligned without some serious planning beforehand.

He just got used to it, Steve supposes.

He got used to having Eddie around all the time, under his fingertips, under his skin. He got used to saying goodnight in person, in their bed together instead of over phone lines, got used to waking up in Eddie's arms and hearing sweet nothings whispered in his ear rather than reading the texts Eddie would leave for him to wake up to when they were apart.

He'll adjust just like he always does, and the worst part will be over tomorrow morning – that moment right between sleep and wake when Steve will realize Eddie isn’t in their bed with him.

Like it or not, the distance is their normal and they make it work (except it’s not even making it work, because it’s not like that. Any situation, any set of circumstances will work without question because it’s Eddie).

The start time for the Cincinnati show comes and goes. A few minutes into the opening act and while Steve is mindlessly flitting between Instagram and TikTok waiting for the algorithm to fill his feed with clips from the concert (ones of Eddie, preferably), his screen lights up with a call.

“Hey,” he says the second he slams his thumb on the green accept button.

“Hey,” Eddie replied, his tone nothing short of grim.

“You geared up for the show?” Steve asked.

“No,” Eddie answered, “I’m quitting.”

Steve rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, okay.”

“I need you to come tuck my pockets in,” Eddie said, and it’s a goddamn wonder Steve didn’t break down then and there, because Eddie always managed to tug his pants on in a way that made the front pockets stick out just a bit, and throughout their years together Steve had gotten into the habit of tucking them back in for him, squeezing Eddie’s hips a little when he was done and pulling him in for a kiss.

“Yeah,” Steve manages a wet laugh, “I – fuck, man, I wish I was there to tuck them in for you.”

“I want you here so bad, Steve," Eddie says, "I really, really miss you."

“I miss you too,” Steve nodded, even though miss isn't a big enough word for the homesick feeling in his chest, “Only a week until the Indy show though. And I’m coming with you for the Michigan one after.”

“Yeah,” Eddie replied, and if he sounded a little morose about it, Steve was right there with him. Sure, it’s a comfort knowing he’ll be seeing Eddie again so soon, but when those two days are over…yeah, it’s gonna be a long goddamn while until next time, because Eddie will be playing the Midwest while Steve’s press tour is mostly on the East Coast this time around, and after that he heads up into Vancouver to shoot a period drama mini-series while Eddie plays the southern half of the US, and then…well, Steve could keep going. They’re both taking a short break for the holidays, but that and the rare weekend one of them can fly out to the other is about it for the foreseeable future.

Which, yeah, Steve loves acting, loves that he gets to make a whole career out of it, and he knows that Eddie feels the same way about his music, but…the love he has for Eddie definitely edges out the rest of it – enough that he feels the distance between him like a dull, ever-present ache whenever they’re apart.

Eddie only ends their call when his manager practically has to yank the phone out of his hand and shove him onstage, and then Steve settles back into bed, back into scrolling mindlessly on his phone waiting for his finely-tuned algorithms to do their jobs.

Sure enough, it takes less than thirty minutes for Steve’s FYP to start showing him TikToks from Eddie’s show, and amidst all the hair and leather and silver chains and chunky rings and eyeliner and manic energy, Steve sees something else, something that has the hurt of missing Eddie increasing ten-fold, something that has him seriously considering taking an ax to all his contracts and his career and his livelihood and getting on the next plane to Cincinnati.

Eddie left his pockets untucked.

[flickering-chandelier]

But Daddy I Love Him

✨ Part 1: Was Any Of It True?

✨ Part 2: Full Throttle

Pairing: badboy!Azriel x goodgirl!Reader

Summary: And they’re back! As Reader and Azriel get more serious, it’s time for Az to meet the parents. Unsurprisingly, he’s not exactly what they hoped for, and he and Reader try to prove to them how great he is. 

Warnings: smut (at the parents’ house? Yes, oopsie), family drama, swearing, Az is insecure, no these parents are not based off of mine lol idk what you’re talking about

Word Count: 5.1k

Azriel let out a breath as he dropped another heavy box into the bedroom he now shared with you. “I think that’s all the books.”

You smiled somewhat guiltily at him, and even though he knew it meant that he would somehow have to carry more books up the stairs, his heart swelled with affection for you. “Not quite,” you said. “There’s one more box in my car.”

He laughed, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I like books,” you said, shrugging innocently. 

“Oh, you do?” He teased. 

You grinned, holding both his hands and rising on your tiptoes to kiss him. “This isn't even all of them. You should see the collection I have at my parents’ house,” you laughed. 

Azriel paused. He had been wondering for the past few months when he would meet them, when you would want to take that step. He didn’t have any family to speak of besides Cassian and Rhysand, so he couldn’t help but wonder if your family could be that for him someday. 

But he also wasn’t sure how they would react to him. He probably wasn’t the kind of guy that they pictured their little girl ending up with. 

That didn’t stop him from wanting to meet them, though. To see where you had grown up, where you had become the person he loved so much. 

“I’d like to see that,” he said finally, gazing down at you, a smile tugging at his lips. 

“You would?” You asked quietly.

“Of course I would,” he cupped your cheek in his rough hand. “I want to meet your family. I want to see where you became my bookworm,” he said, leaning down to brush a quick kiss on your lips. 

You smiled, your eyes shining. “I would love that. It’s just…”

“They might not like me,” he said, quietly, his heart sinking a little.

“They’ll love you,” you assured him, but then winced slightly. “Once they get to know you. Once they see past your tattoos and your motorcycle.”

“And my grades,” he added.

“And the deal,” you whispered. 

“Oh, fuck.” He had tried his best to wipe that from his memory in the past year, and yours. He had been working every day to prove to you and to himself that he was worthy of being with you, that he would treat you with nothing less than the love and respect you deserved. 

“It’ll be okay,” you said, resting your chin on his chest and looking up at him. “They’ll see the real you, I know it.”

Despite the churning dread in his stomach at the thought of your parents hating him, he couldn’t wipe the smile from his face as he gazed down at you. “Book the trip, baby.”

---

Your leg had started bouncing up and down in the passenger seat as soon as the car started moving. Azriel glanced at you, the slightest smile on his face as he settled his hand on your bare knee, gently holding it down. “It’ll be okay, sweetheart,” he murmured. 

You don’t know my parents. You’re exactly the kind of guy they always told me to stay away from.

On the outside, at least. Azriel was the kindest, most loving person you had ever known, and you counted yourself extremely lucky to be in love with him. You knew that. 

But, you just weren’t sure if your parents would ever be willing to see that side of him.

Finally, you smiled tightly, resting your hand over his on your thigh. “You’re right,” you sighed, and hoped it was true. 

The rest of the ride was more comfortable as you settled into road trip mode, passing snacks back and forth and laughing together, singing along to the playlist that Az made. 

Although Azriel did make you feel better throughout the drive, your hands were shaking slightly by the time you pulled up into the driveway. 

Azriel’s had was on the door handle, about to exit the car,  but he paused when he looked back at you, his expression softening immediately. He took your hand in his, lightly running his thumb over the backs of your knuckles. “You’re really nervous, aren’t you?”

You nodded, your eyes fixed on his hand over yours. “I just… I love you so much. And I don’t know how they’re going to react.”

“What have you told them about me?”

A smile tugged on your lips. “Well, at first I told them that you were really hot.”

He laughed. “That’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said.”

You rolled your eyes. “As we were getting to know each other, I told them that you’re very sweet and caring.”

Azriel smiled, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead.

“It wasn’t until we figured things out after last summer that I told them about the tattoos and the motorcycle,” you said. 

He smiled sadly. “How did they react to that?”

You winced. “Not great. But by then I also told them that I loved you, so they couldn’t really say much.”

“Well, at least you warned them,” Azriel sighed.

Suddenly, you felt guilty for adding stress to Azriel’s shoulders. He was no doubt already worried about making a good impression. You leaned forward and kissed him softly. “It’ll be okay,” you said. “We’ve got a week to show them how great you are.” 

Azriel took a deep breath, winking at you before he got out of the car and rounded over to your side, opening the door for you, and kissing the top of your head. “Into the lion’s den we go.”

You laughed as you grabbed your bags, handing the heaviest ones to Azriel before you walked up to the front door. 

The door was opened before you could even knock, your parents rushing out to hug you. “You’re here!”

“Hi guys,” you smiled, hugging them back the best you could with the bags in your arms.

“Oh, let us take those,” your mom said, taking the bags from you, while your dad took Azriel’s and set them down. 

“Mom, Dad, this is my boyfriend, Azriel,” you said, smiling up at him. 

He reached his hand out, saying, “It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”

You had to reign in a laugh at seeing Azriel acting so formally. Your parents shook his hand, introducing themselves with much less enthusiasm than they just greeted you with. 

Your parents’ eyes trailed over Azriel’s tattoos, before looking back at you, plastering on their brightest smiles. 

“Dinner will be ready in a few minutes. Why don’t you two get settled in your room?” Your mom said.

Azriel’s shoulders slumped slightly with relief as you followed him up the stairs, luggage in tow. You stepped past him, leading him to your childhood bedroom, closing the door behind you. 

“They already fucking hate me, don’t they?” Azriel whispered, his arms wrapping around your middle, drawing you into his chest.

“Well, they’re letting you sleep in my room,” you said, looking up at him. “That’s a good sign?”

He groaned, nuzzling his face into your neck. “They probably thought since we live together already, it doesn’t matter.”

“Right,” you said. “That might not be a good sign, then.”

Azriel sighed into your skin, pressing light kisses to your throat, holding you close. “I fucking love you, you know that? The rest doesn’t matter, right?”

You looked up at him curiously. “The rest?”

“I mean,” he hesitated, searching for the right words, his eyes searching your face. “You don’t care, right? About the tattoos and the motorcycle, and the shitty grades, and the fact that you’re pretty much the only one in the world, besides my idiot friends, that cares about me at all?”

“Azriel,” you whispered, holding his face in your hands as your heart broke for him. “I love you so much. I love your tattoos,” you smiled, leaning down to kiss the tattoo on his chest that peeked out from under his shirt. “I love your motorcycle. It breaks my heart and makes me angrier than I’ve ever been to think about how awful your family was, but that doesn’t affect how I feel about you.”

His fingers tightened on your waist as he let out a deep breath. “Okay,” he said, like he was grounding himself in you. 

“You’re the love of my life,” you said quietly, rising in your toes to kiss him. “If my parents somehow don’t see how amazing you are, that’s on them. But it won’t change how I feel about you.”

Azriel’s mouth turned up into the lopsided smile that made you knees weak every time. “The love of your life?” 

“I thought that was pretty obvious,” you teased. 

The tension finally released in his arms as your words sunk in, and he wrapped his hand around the back of your neck, kissing you deeply. “God, I love you,” he murmured against your mouth. 

You laughed, “Lucky me.”

He smirked as he pulled away, his eyes finally roaming around your bedroom. “So, this is it, huh? Where your nerdy little bookworm days started?” 

“This is it,” you said, watching him as he looked around the room, his gaze roaming over your academic trophies on one wall, flanked by enormous bookshelves filled to the brim with books, the floral curtains, the art of your favorite authors and favorite characters. 

“Sweetheart, I say this with all the love in the world,” he said, grinning at you, “this is exactly what I pictured. You’re such a nerd.”

You ran your hand along the spines of the books closest to you, laughing. “I know! Look at all my precious babies.”

Azriel rolled his eyes goodnaturedly. “Do you need a moment alone with them?”

“Maybe later,” you said. 

“Well, it’s going to have to be later, because I am not going back down there alone.” 

“I would never make you do that,” you said, taking his hand, kissing his cheek. “Speaking of which, we probably should go back.”

“Right,” he said, grimacing slightly. “Lead the way.”

---

The only thing holding Azriel through dinner was your hand on his leg, steadying him, keeping him on the ground. 

He couldn’t remember ever being this nervous in his life, except for maybe last fall when he was about to find out whether you still hated him or not. 

Azriel had never really cared about gaining anyone’s approval, not until he met you and realized he would do anything to make you happy. This was an extension of that, he supposed. He wanted your parents to know that he would take care of you, and treat you right. He wanted them to know that you were safe. 

So, here he was, scared shitless of these two middle aged people from a nice neighborhood. The thought almost made him laugh.

“How did the move go?” your mom asked you. 

Azriel noticed your dad’s eyes narrow slightly, his grip tightening on his fork. 

“It went really smoothly,” you said easily, smiling at Azriel. “Az helped me pack and did a lot of the heavy lifting.”

“I would hope so,” your dad said under his breath, his eyes focused on his plate. 

“You know, I got really lucky,” you cut in, your fingers tightening slightly on Azriel’s leg. “If Az hadn’t let me move in, I don’t know where I would have gone.”

“Coming home is always an option,” your mom said sweetly. “I mean, you’re always welcome. If you need somewhere to go.”

Azriel noticed you hesitate briefly. So, there it was. Yet another reason to hate him. Azriel had taken their daughter away for the summer.

“Of course,” your mom turned her tight smile on him. “Do you cook much?”

“This dinner is incredible,” Azriel blurted. “Thank you for making it.”

Azriel laughed in a way that he hoped sounded casual. “Not much. I’m mostly a take-out kind of guy.”

“You know that stuff’s horrible for you,” your mom said in a sing-songy voice that he assumed was meant to distract him from her disapproval.

“And expensive,” your dad cut in. He still had barely glanced in Azriel’s direction. 

“Yes, well, we’re so busy with everything at school,” you said, with an edge to your voice that clearly showed you were trying to get the evening back on track. 

Azriel’s heart cracked at how hard you were trying, and how little your parents seemed to care. 

“Right,” he said. “She’s studying constantly, which I’m sure is no surprise to you.”

“And you?” your mom asked him. “What do you do while she’s studying?”

Azriel wracked his brain for a suitable answer. Certainly not studying or cooking or cleaning, that much would be obvious to them. 

“He’ll help me study sometimes, if I want,” you said. “Or he’ll be at work, or out with friends.”

Your parents nodded, seemingly dissatisfied with that answer. 

The rest of the dinner was pretty much more of the same. Azriel felt like no matter what he said, they would look at him with that slight frown, the disapproving click of their tongues. 

You were shifting in your seat constantly, clearly frustrated too. He laid his hand over yours under the table, trying to soothe you, to show you that he was okay, that he was just thinking about you. 

He jumped up and cleared the plates when it seemed that dinner had come to a close, trying to prove that he wasn’t completely useless. You followed him into the kitchen. The two of you silently did the dishes after you had insisted that we do them and sent your parents away. 

After the dishes were done, the two of you made it through some more awkward small talk with the parents before you had claimed to be incredibly tired and excused yourselves. 

Once you had escaped to the bedroom, Azriel fell back onto the bed, groaning. “How am I supposed to make them like me?”

You cuddled up beside him, leaning your head on his chest. “We just need a more casual setting. Some kind of activity where they can see how sweet you are to me, and where they won’t be able to grill you about stupid shit.”

He glanced at you curiously, rubbing your shoulder, surprised by how harsh your tone was. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine,” you sighed, pressing your body further against his, wrapping an arm around his waist. “Just annoyed. Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he kissed your temple. “Just worried about you.”

“Me?” You sounded surprised. 

“I hate to see you so frustrated.”

You smiled, tilting your chin up to kiss him. “I was worried about you.”

Both of you laughed, holding each other close, Azriel running his hand through your hair. You stayed like that for a long time, silently digesting the day, clinging to one another like a lifeline. 

---

You woke up with Azriel’s arms around you, his breath tickling the back of your neck. These were your favorite moments in any day, when the two of you could just be alone, so wrapped up in each other that nothing else mattered. 

But then you heard the clanking of pots and pans in the kitchen downstairs and remembered where you were. Remembered how stiff your parents had been last night, how nervous it was making Azriel, who only wanted to impress them. 

It was going to be a very long week. 

Azriel’s arms tightened around you and he sighed into your neck. “Morning, baby.”

“Good morning,” you smiled as he kissed your shoulder. 

“You ready for today?”

“Are you?” You asked. 

“Of course. What could go wrong?” Azriel asked.

You turned to face him and his awaiting smirk. “Why would you say that?” you groaned. 

He laughed, kissing you on the forehead, the nose, the mouth. “I'm going to try to be optimistic today. We love each other. We're good together. That's what matters.”

You smiled, kissing him gently. “You always make me feel better.”

His expression softened, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. “That's all I've ever wanted.”

You spent a few more minutes cuddling, pretending the rest of the world didn't exist, before you got dressed and went downstairs, hand in hand as a united front.

Your dad was flipping pancakes while your mom was cooking bacon. “Good morning,” your mom chirped.

“Can we help?” Azriel asked, squeezing your hand slightly.

Your mom hummed, seemingly thinking. “You could set the table, if you want. We're almost done.”

You led Azriel to the plates and the silverware, passing them to him and leading him to the table where you both quickly set up everything.

Azriel pulled you into a hug when it was done, kissing the top of your head. 

Breakfast was ready by then, and you caught your mom smiling slightly as she saw you and Azriel.

The meal went by surprisingly smoothly. Maybe your parents felt bad for how tense and awkward things were yesterday, because they were definitely less cold towards Azriel this morning. 

You could see Azriel visibly relax, and he squeezed your thigh under the table for a moment, seemingly saying I told you it would be okay.

But you couldn't help but wonder how long it would last.

---

When you had suggested to your parents that the four of you go mini golfing, Azriel couldn’t stop the swell of emotions that came with it. The first time he had gone mini golfing with you had been your first date, and you had suggested it because it was something you were comfortable with, something that you had grown up doing with your family. 

He was supposed to be acting then. Supposed to be getting you to fall in love with him so Claire could have her stupid revenge. 

But, even then, he couldn’t bring himself to act around you. He found himself forgetting what he was supposed to be doing and just having fun with you, getting to know this intriguing, brilliant bookworm. 

So, needless to say, he had mixed emotions of guilt and love and about a million other things when it came to this particular activity. 

You could see it on his face, he knew, as soon as you mentioned it. The guilt, particularly. You smiled slightly, taking his hand in yours. 

God, he did not deserve you. 

At the mini golf course that your parents had been taking you to since you were a kid, you picked up a tiny pink putter with a grin, handing him a taller black one. 

He couldn’t help but smile despite the looming presence of your parents behind him, placing a hand on the small of your back and a kiss to the top of your head as the two of you walked out to the first hole, your parents trailing behind. 

It was actually fun to see all three of you drop your guard down a bit and relax. Your family joked around and seemed to be in a much better mood as you made your way through the course. He mostly stayed quiet, happily observing at your side. 

He sighed as he overshot the hole again, holding everybody up. You laughed, grinning up at him, and he stuck his tongue out at you teasingly. “I still suck at this game, sweetheart. We’re going to need to practice more before we come back to visit again.” 

To Azriel’s surprise, your parents laughed too, and for the rest of the day, they were clearly making more of an effort to bring him into conversations and ask him questions that didn’t seem like they had a clear wrong answer. You kept looking at him, your eyes shining, whenever this happened, and Azriel’s heart soared to know how happy it was making you. 

The whole day went by really smoothly, actually. 

That is, until Azriel came out of the shower and heard a conversation he absolutely was not meant to. 

He came out of your room in shorts and a t-shirt, drying his hair with a towel, about to go down the stairs when he heard your raised voice carrying up the stairs and stopped dead in his tracks. 

“I thought things were going well today,” you said, your voice breaking. “What could your problem possibly be with him?”

“Do you remember what you were like last summer?” your dad answered, his voice rising. “Because I do.”

Azriel’s stomach lurched, his hands shaking. He didn’t want to think about how hurt you had been because of something he had done. It broke his heart completely. 

You sighed. “I’ve forgiven him for that, Dad. You need to do the same.”

“I don’t know if I can do that,” he sighed. 

“Dad, I love him. He’s so good to me, can’t you see that?”

“What I see is that the kid is covered in tattoos, doesn’t care about his grades, and used you for the better part of a year!”

Azriel flinched from his hiding place on top of the stairs. 

Your voice became incredibly quiet as you said, “Maybe we should just go.”

Azriel’s heart broke, remembering how excited you had been to see your parents again, despite the trepidation at what their reaction to Azriel would be. 

He couldn’t take it anymore, clearing his throat and going down the stairs to see your arms wrapped around yourself, shielding yourself, while your dad pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers, clearly frustrated. 

Your dad looked shocked to see him there. 

Azriel came up beside you, wrapping his arm loosely around your waist in a feeble attempt to comfort you. He looked to your dad. “Sir, I understand your reservations about me. I really do. What I did last year… how she and I started dating…” Azriel winced, glancing down at you to find your eyes glossy with tears. “It was horrible, what I did. I have no excuse. I am so, truly sorry that I hurt your daughter. But, I am begging you to believe me when I say that I am so in love with her. She’s the kindest, most brilliant person I’ve ever known. Honestly, she’s pretty much the only good thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“And Rhys and Cassian,” you cut in. 

He laughed lightly, smiling down at you, and pulling you tightly closer against him. “Yes, but we both know I like you better.” 

Your dad was looking at Azriel with a furrowed brow, studying him, before flicking his eyes to you. “He treats you well?”

Azriel could see the emotion in your eyes. “Yes, dad. He brings me food when I forget to eat because I’m buried in textbooks. He makes me go to sleep when my eyes are burning. He took care of me when I had a fever, and he got notes from this awful girl for me because I was too sick to do it myself. He tells me he loves me every day and he shows me that he means it.” You broke off, your voice cracking, and looked up to Azriel with tears brimming in your eyes. 

On reflex, he gently brushed his thumb under your eye, wiping the tear away, his heart swelling with emotion. 

Your dad sighed, his gaze bouncing back and forth between the two of you before settling on Azriel. “I think I owe you an apology, son.”

Azriel’s eyes widened slightly. “No apology necessary. I get it.”

Your dad nodded, clearing his throat. “We’ll do better.”

---

As soon as Azriel shut the door to your bedroom, you jumped into his arms. 

He laughed, catching you as you wrapped your arms and legs tightly around him, burying your face in his neck. “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby,” he said, kissing the top of your head. 

“That was a beautiful speech,” you said, pulling back to look at him. 

Azriel smiled, leaning forward and kissing you slowly. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured against your mouth.

Slowly, the kiss got deeper, as Azriel slipped his tongue into your mouth and laid you down on the bed, hovering over you. 

Heat flooded through your body as he started kissing down your neck. “Az,” you whined quietly. “My parents…”

“Don’t hate me anymore,” he smirked into your skin. 

“They're not even asleep yet,” you whispered.  

“We’ll just have to be quiet then,” he murmured back, pointedly pressing his growing hardness into your pelvis.

You gasped. “We shouldn’t.”

“But you want to?” he asked, his eyebrow raised, his fingers grazing the inside of your thigh. 

“Of course I want to,” you said, your hips involuntarily rising to meet his. “I want you…” 

Azriel groaned quietly, his hand raising slightly higher on your thigh. “I want you, too, sweetheart.”

“It’s a really bad idea,” you said, sounding more and more breathless, even to your own ears. 

“It absolutely is,” Azriel said gruffly, kissing your neck again. 

You raked your nails down his back. “You’re going to have to help me be quiet,” you whispered. 

Azriel moved immediately, smirking at you as he slid your shorts and panties down your legs. “I think I can handle that.”

Within a moment, his mouth was in between your legs, relentlessly licking and sucking all the right places.

You wound your fingers through his hair, biting your lip to stay quiet. 

“Az,” you gasped, as he laid his hand flat on your stomach to keep you in place. “This -- I’m not going to be able to stay quiet.” 

“Yes, you are,” he growled into you. Your thighs involuntarily tightened around his head. “I want to taste you.”

“I can’t -- ahh.”

He tossed a pillow at you, and you couldn’t help but laugh as you held it to your face, biting the fabric to keep quiet. 

When you truly couldn’t handle it anymore, Azriel kissed his way up your body, pulling your shirt off over your head as he did so. “You ready for me, baby?”

You could only nod, still clutching the pillow. 

Azriel chuckled as he stripped down, then took the pillow from your hands, tossing it over his shoulder. 

“But--”

He silenced you with a kiss, his length prodding at your entrance. “You don’t need it anymore,” he whispered, then gently covered your mouth with his hand as he pushed himself fully inside you, his eyes on yours the whole time. 

You drew a breath in against his hand, your eyes widening as he started thrusting gently in and out of you. You could tell he was trying not to shake the mattress too much. 

One of his thrusts hit particularly deep and you couldn’t stop the moan that came out of your mouth.

“Shhh baby,” he murmured in your ear. “You don’t want me to have to stop, do you?”

You shook your head and he chuckled into your ear, making your toes curl, your legs clamp tighter around him. 

He groaned quietly, and when he raised his head to look at you again, you covered his mouth with your hand, raising your eyebrow at him. 

Azriel laughed and you pulled your hand back, holding his face in your hands, looking up at him dreamily. 

Your legs started shaking as he kept moving in and out of you, and he smirked down at you, his hand still covering your mouth. “You doing okay, sweetheart?”

You nodded. 

“Are you going to come for me?” 

You nodded, and he laughed, his face lighting up. 

“Yeah? You’re close?” He asked. 

Your back arched off the mattress, and he grinned. “Oh, yeah, you’re close. Be a good girl and come for me, baby, but remember to stay quiet, okay?” 

Even if you had been able to respond, you didn’t have time. You bit back a groan as you finished, your legs tightening around him. 

Azriel sighed into your neck, pounding into you faster and faster until he met his release. 

He slumped against you, slowly moving his hand from your mouth. “You okay?” he asked. 

“Mmhmm.”

He rolled off you, brushing his thumb along your cheekbone with a smile. “Did I make you sleepy?”

You nodded, too exhausted to talk, and his smile widened, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

“Nooo,” you whined as he got out of bed and pulled his shorts on. 

“I’ll be right back,” he laughed before disappearing out the door. 

True to his word, he was back a moment later with a glass of water and a towel. He cleaned you up with the towel and handed you the water after taking a sip himself. 

“Thank you,” you sighed. 

He slid back into the bed, wrapping his arms around you, resting his head on your shoulder. 

After you laid there in silence for a few moments, Azriel said, “I can’t believe your dad called me son.”

“I know,” you yawned. “I’m telling you, you really moved both of us with that declaration of love,” you teased, kissing his temple.

He held you a little tighter. “I meant it, you know. I didn’t mean for it to be a big speech.”

“I know,” you said.

You held onto each other like that until you both drifted off into the first peaceful sleep you had gotten since you arrived. 

---

Your dad must have talked to your mom because both of them were acting vastly different for the rest of the trip. The four of you played board games, went to their favorite restaurants, they even went to a barbeque in the neighborhood where Azriel met a bunch of the neighbors. 

Though it still wasn’t perfect, Azriel felt way more included, and if he was honest, he felt a little emotional about it. 

This is what it feels like. This is what having a family is like.

You were always able to read his thoughts. You sidled up to him in the neighbor’s backyard while people milled about. 

“Are you okay?” you asked. 

“I’m great,” he said, slinging an arm around your waist, kissing your forehead.

“You are family, you know,” you said quietly, looking up at him. “You’re my family.”

He had to blink back tears as he looked down at you, your eyes shining with so much love. “And you’re mine.”

Azriel suddenly couldn’t wait to go home with you, to the place that you two shared together. He couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his life with you. 

He thought of the envelope of money that he had been saving in the back of his sock drawer for the past few months. As he looked down at you, looked at your parents who had finally accepted him, he knew that he would be spending it much sooner than he had originally planned. 

@loving-and-dreaming @birdsflyhome @hanuh @sheblogs @iambored24601 @thalia-as-blog @melmo567 @sillysillygoose444 @azrielshadows1nger @cigvrette-dvydrevms @evergreenlark @ecliphttlunar @bookloverandalsocats @headacheseason @yourqueenlilith @mariamay02 @halibshepherd @andreperez11 @lilah-asteria @marina468

[itchytitss]

Jill Valentine who loves calling you her wife

Disclaimer: is based on RE3 Jill, meaning the estimated year is around the late 90s to early 2000s where gay marriage was yet to be legalised countrywide in the US

In all ways except governable, Jill Valentine is your wife.

Every morning you wake up in the same bed. You shower together. You cook each other breakfast and dinner. You steal each other’s clothes. You even make love like a married couple. Soft, intimate and loving.

You lay in her arms, listening to her steady heartbeat as she strokes your hair. “I’m going to marry you someday.” She says softly. “Some time in the future, I know it… Someday they’ll allow it.” She sighs. “The world is changing, I can feel it.”

She’s sick of hiding your relationship. She’s sick of hiding who she loves. The world expects you to find a husband and bring children into this world. It expects you to stay at home, cook, clean and do everything for your husband.

“The world is shit”, your girlfriend wife says. “The world needs to wake up.”

She may lose her job, she may ruin her relationship with friends and family. But she would risk the entire world just to live a normal life with you. Nothing else matters but you.

Jill is so sick of people assuming her “partner” is a man. Or when people interpret her “girlfriend” as a friend that is a girl.

You may not be able to legally marry yet, but that doesn’t stop Jill from calling you her wife. It confuses people, but she wouldn’t have it any other way.

Jill’s assigned extra work at the office? “Sorry, no can do. I gotta get home on time tonight. My wife is making roast.”

At a restaurant? “I’ve reserved a table under Valentine. No, our husbands won’t be coming. It’s just my wife and I tonight.” She squeezes her arm around your waist, smiling at the slightly shocked waiter.

A man flirting with her at the bar? “Yes this shirt does look nice! It’s one of my wife’s favourites.” She says loudly.

This little habit of hers, (if you could call it that) amuses you immensely. The amount of times it’s stunned or confused people never fails to make you laugh at the way they question the legality of your “marriage.”

Jill stands in the kitchen, tending to curry on the stove as she gushes about how she finally has the weekend off, and how she can spend it with her “pretty little wife.”

“If I’m your wife, where’s my ring?” You tease, holding up your left hand and showing off your bare ring finger.

“I’m saving that for when we can get married, darling.” She whispers, taking your hand and bringing it to her lips as she places a gentle kiss to your ring finger.

What you don’t know is that far in the back of her side of the closet, lies a little box, nestled amongst dusty old clothes. In that box, is the perfect diamond ring. Waiting for the day it can finally see the light. Jill bought this a few months ago, and is keeping it for when the right day comes.

[sammyluvr]

three seconds — sam winchester

cw : gn!reader, fluff, light swearing, accidental cuddling, casual mention of marriage between sam and reader (it’s just dean teasing tho lol), idiots friends to lovers, kissing, barely edited, 1.2K words. requested ! for my 200+ followers event [ closed ] .

prompt : sleeping in the same bed, as they’d often do, but one morning waking up cuddling.

to be truthful, this isn’t the first time you’ve woken up with yours and sam’s limbs entangled with each other’s. it’s just far less common for his hand to be so gloriously attached to your waist or his face to be tucked all sweet and warm into your neck. your own hands are placed in his hair and on his broad shoulder blade.

waking up like this is heaven; first, in the moments before you can process exactly what is happening, and second, once you realize and can bask in the splendor of having him so intimately close and vulnerable with you. then it comes crashing down as you remember that this isn’t quite how it’s supposed to be, and that you’ll never, not for a moment, be able to get this feeling out of your head, your body.

which means every moment after you untangle yourself from him will be full of a pure, undying, taunting want, maybe even need, to have him like that again. such a feeling is a general inconvenience as one considers that sam is your best friend, that he and his brother are just about all you have, and that you’d rather die than lose them to the fact that you’re in love with him. so clearly, it’s better he never knows, it’s just that constantly thinking about cuddling with him tends to lead to you making heart eyes at him or your cheeks flushing hot when he looks at you a moment too long.

then there’s the realization that sam is still asleep, the steady rhythm of his breath tickling your neck is both comforting and terrifying all at once. what if he wakes and jerks away, uncomfortable with your proximity? should you push him away before he even realizes the position you’re in? it’s not as if sam doesn’t enjoy physical affection; he pretends he doesn’t, but you’re convinced that he’s a cuddlebug at heart. maybe that’s an overly cute way of putting it, but you can feel how much he loves hugs, how much he enjoys having his head in your lap when you get a rare movie night. you’re just worried that this is too much, too close for even him.

and yet, you’re feeling selfish, because what if you never get him like this again? so you close your eyes again and just revel in the way it feels to have the tip of his nose pressed to your neck and his forehead against your jaw. his hands on you, so steady and sure in his sleep. his hair, soft between your fingers and the muscle of his back under your palm. his leg, tucked between yours. just the weight of him, pressed against you all solid and real and almost immovable until he wakes.

you hear dean stir a few feet away and you pray he won’t be able to tell you’re not asleep. breath even and eyes still gently closed, you hear dean move about, mumbling to himself. he’s digging around in a bag, pulling something out. then you feel him move closer and you swear he’s hovering at the foot of the bed.

then you hear a click, like that of a camera shutter, and you realize dean’s taken a picture of the two of you like this. pictures of the three of you are rarer, and dean being the one to take it means it’s special. you suppose blackmail is special in its own way and beg to no one that dean didn’t hear your breath hitch as you realize this moment is now immortalized by a picture that dean’ll print out someday and shove in your faces to make fun.

then dean’s mumbling to himself again, now close and loud enough for you to make out his words. “these two,” he sighs, tone practically chastising as if he sees something glaringly obvious, but the both of you can’t seem to quite get there. “i swear, the heart eyes from across the room, the longing gazes. god, they’ll be the death of me.” 

he really, truly thinks you’re asleep. he talks like this when he doesn’t know you can hear him. though usually not about you and sam, not like this. “they’re both such idiots. idiots in love,” he laughs humorlessly to himself, then turns away, stuffing the camera back in the bag he dug it out from. “maybe i should lock them in a closet,” he considers, voice so low you can barely catch his words, “see who caves first. then they’ll probably only thank me for that or the puke-inducingly cute photo once they’re married, those ungrateful asses. kids these days.” he lets out a huff of breath as he heads to the bathroom, seemingly done with his ranting about … about what? you and sam being in love with each other? what the hell was he saying, married? you and sam? you have to hold back from letting out a lovesick sigh.

you’re so caught up turning dean’s words over in your mind that only sam’s hand lightly squeezing your side brings you back to the present. your eyes shoot open and you pull your hand out of his hair. sam parts from you, barely. how long has he been awake? you’re almost too scared to look at sam, who hasn’t even attempted to untangle himself from you. he’s still got his hand on your waist and his leg tucked between yours and your eyes catch his without you meaning to. it’s always like that; your eyes will wander until they find his face, every time. it’s habit, instinct, unavoidable.

he looks at you long, and something about his pretty eyes turned green from the morning light and the color of the sheets keeps you holding his gaze, taking him in as he does you.

when sam finally speaks, his voice is hushed, but there’s this barely contained joy to it, begging to be released. “think we should save him the trouble?” the playfulness in his voice tugs at the corner of your lips. when he sounds happy, you can’t help but feel that way.

“of?” you ask, thinking you know what he means, but wanting to be sure.

“of locking us in a closet. sounds like a bit of a hassle, if you ask me,” he smiles at you, and his words plus the sight of his dimples has got you grinning without restraint. you wonder again how long sam was awake, but completely without apprehension this time. all the two of you needed was a few playful words exchanged, and now you know. though you wouldn’t have without dean’s unwittingly overheard grumbles, so you supposed you will have to thank him after all.

“i don’t know,” you say with a false air of careful thinking, “seems like it could be fun, y’know? it’s been too long since we’ve played a good trick on dean, don’t you think?”

sam doesn’t have an answer for that because he’s been too busy staring at the way your lips move, still pulled into a smile as you talk. you take another good look at him and wonder, how in the world did i miss it? the way he looks at me?

if he doesn’t kiss you within three seconds flat, you’ll do it yourself. it takes him those three seconds exactly, and you move in such synch it’s possible that your lips meet right in the perfect middle of the barely-there space between you.

[soobnny]

voicemails sim jake leaves you while he’s on tour — fluff, established relationship, tiny bit of angst

heeseung | jay | JAKE | sunghoon | sunoo | jungwon | ni-ki

one. we’re on our way to the airport right now, babe. new york is next on the list, ah, i’ve always wanted to go. maybe next time we can go togeth— shut up! no wait, that wasn’t for you baby. wait, give me a second. sunghoon, if you don’t stop mocking me right now, i’m pushing you off this car! okay, hi babe. where was i? oh, yeah, airport. i miss you! i’ll call you when we land.

two. ah, the views here are so pretty. well, of course, you’re prettier than them, but their beauty will have to suffice because you’re not here with me. i should take you here someday.

three. everything reminds me of you. what have you done to me? i’m so in love with you, and i have no plans at all to leave. i’m having that forever with you.

four. today was your interview right? how did it go? i know you prepared so hard for it. good job, princess. now, get some rest, okay? and i trust you’ll treat yourself and eat well. i love you.

five. not much longer, my love. i can’t wait to hold you and kiss you. and, oh. speaking of coming home, they’re giving us a week long break. how do you feel about meeting my family? and layla? they’ll love you. would that be okay? i just want them to meet the person i’m planning to spend the rest of my life with.

six. i miss you so much. today was very hard, but thinking about you helped me stay strong. i miss you.

seven. we played a game earlier in jungwon’s room. some sort of word association game? like, someone would say a word, and you had to answer with something you associate with that word. the boys asked me what comfort was like and i said you right away. of course, they teased me right after but i just thought i should tell you. i love you. thank you for being my comfort.

eight. you make me feel at ease just by existing.

nine. are you tired my love? hey hey, it’s okay. just relisten to this voicemail everytime you need to. you’re doing well, okay? and you’re so so strong. i’m sorry you have to go through this, and i’m sorry that the path to healing hurts this much, but it’ll get better okay? i’m so proud of you and all your efforts. hold on a little longer. i’m almost coming home.

ten. there’s so many things to smile about, but darling, you’re my favorite. i can’t wait to give you the biggest hug when i come home.

[azzifudd]

(If someone has already suggested this then you can ignore it but) a drabble or one shot about Paige and Azzi talking about future kids?? Bc after that live with Jana saying “that’s y’alls kid” and Paige showing Azzi the photo?? (Also the same or sharing of the keychain and the thing that’s like “drive safe I need you” is so cute as well)

ours

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

484 words

Azzi is trying to stuff another pair of Paige’s sneakers into one of their duffel bags when she notices that Paige has stopped packing and is just sitting there, staring at her, with a hint of a smile on her lips.

“What?” She grunts, giving up and throwing the shoes to the side as she unpacks a pair of pants to try and make more room in the bag. Their clothes are strewn about the room, their closets long combined to the point where Azzi often isn’t even sure who owned what first. 

Paige jolts out of her stupor when Azzi calls her out, a light blush painting her cheeks. 

“Nothing.” Paige replies, coming over and easily slipping the shoes away. 

Azzi is not convinced, but she lets it go for now. 

“You think Allie would like these?” She holds out the pants, cocking her head as she examines them. 

“Didn’t you already give her a pair?” 

“Yeah, but she was asking about more, and I feel like she’d look cute in these.” She goes to text the younger girl, but stops when she checks the time. “That girl better be asleep.” 

Paige is staring at her again, with that same soft look in her eye. 

“What?” Azzi steps close, tugging at the end of Paige’s shirt. “Tell me.” 

Paige wraps her arms around Azzi’s back, gaze focusing behind her head. 

“I was just thinking ‘bout what a good mom you’re gonna be someday,” she finally replies, blushing bright red all the way down her chest. 

Azzi feels her cheeks burning too. 

Azzi knows they’re young, way too young, to even be entertaining the thought of children. But she thinks about how Paige is with Drew, how she is every time a young fan approaches her, and all she can think about is how excited she is that she’ll get to share that with Paige someday. 

“You will be too.” Azzi presses her face to the side of Paige’s neck, leaving a kiss there. “The best.” 

“I hope they look like you. Our kids.” Paige smiles, tapping a finger to Azzi’s cheek. She can already see a little version of Azzi, with those same dimples, and how they would give that little girl the world. 

“Or maybe they’ll have your eyes.” Azzi imagines, looking into the sky blue eyes that captivated her the moment they had made contact for the first time over a basketball court. 

Paige kisses her then, knowing that it doesn’t really matter what their children look like, that they’ll be the most loved no matter what. 

Azzi pulls back, just until there’s a whisper of room between them. “As long as they have my jumpshot.” 

Paige squawks in mock offense before she laughs and tumbles Azzi backwards onto her bed and kisses her and kisses her, in this little college dorm room where they’ve begun building a life together. 

[writer-in-theory]

tying you to me — i. i dared you to kiss me

Summary: From play weddings in the suburbs of Las Vegas to lavish hotel rooms in New York City, Spencer and Reader find their way back to each other every time. Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Content Warnings: Smut in later parts (18+ only), mentions of bullying A/N: This is a rewrite of a wip series called "the way i love(d) you" that can be found here. Thank you so much @reidsaurora for beta reading!

Playlist Series Masterlist

The story starts how so many do: with a move.

Your parents moved to Las Vegas when you were barely a toddler for a job opportunity. They were nervous about your chances of meeting kids your own age—that is, until they met the Reids. The Reid family lived in the house across the street from yours, and neighborhood legend has it that they were the first to introduce themselves to your family (though Diana would often insist your mother was the welcoming one). Your parents were overjoyed to find out that they not only had a child of their own but that he was only two years younger than you. They liked the couple well-enough; your fathers able to bond over sports and your mothers talking about anything from the novels they’d read recently to all of the best spots in town to visit. 

Many kids became friends simply due to sheer proximity, and at first you and Spencer Reid were no different. When your parents spent so much time at each others’ houses, it was easy for you to befriend the boy. He was quieter, sure, and it took some work to find which activities you could enjoy together (the chess vs checkers debate went on for far too long, really), but he was the best friend you’d ever had. 

Your mothers would get used to the two of you constantly being around each other. Oftentimes, the two of you would go on what you called ‘adventures’, which really meant you’d be allowed by your parents to explore the small town together. Each day was different—some days you’d spend with Spencer in the local bookstore, and others you’d convince him to explore nature with you. No matter what, though, you spent your days together. Quietly, when you two were busy playing in the yard, your mothers would smile at each other and say, “You know, they’ll get married one day.”

Spencer was brilliant, and everyone in town knew it. Any time he was around they’d say the same thing: “He’s going to do great things someday.” You were never sure what sort of great things they meant or how they were supposed to know that so early on, but you did know that Spencer was special. He knew about things you didn’t even know existed, and could explain them to you so well you felt like an expert by the end of it. At first, your mother worried for you, scared all of the compliments given only to him would make you feel badly, but you’d enjoyed all the attention and would loudly proclaim to anyone who would listen that you had the smartest best friend in the world.

Perhaps, then, you might’ve seen this coming if you really thought about it.

The two of you sat in your secret hideout the day before school was set to start again. It was a hill in the Vegas suburbs that looked over the desert highway, found on one of your grand adventures. The first time you’d found it, it had taken nearly four hours for any of your parents to find you and Spencer. Immediately, you’d known that you’d come back if only for the feeling of freedom it brought. When you were there, it felt like you and Spencer were the only people in the entire world. 

“Can I tell you something?” Spencer asked after several minutes of quiet. He had a book open on his lap but he hadn’t turned the page in minutes. You had been drawing, but upon seeing the nervous look on his face you quickly abandoned your notebook. 

“What’s wrong?” you asked, turning on the blanket to face him. Your mother would be upset you got her blanket dirty, but she just didn’t understand that you had to bring it outside or Spencer would be upset about having to sit in the dirt. 

“You know how we were in the same school last year?”

Because you were two years older, you hadn’t actually gotten to see Spencer in school until last year when he made it to the elementary building. It was exciting, because you could see him in the lunchroom or even during library time. 

“Yeah! Sammy said second and fourth grade get recess together, so we can play kickball with all my friends if you want.” Already you were thinking about how well he could fit in with your group of friends.

Strangely, that invitation didn’t seem to lift Spencer’s spirits. Instead, he almost got sadder, curling his shoulders in a little more and picking at a loose thread on the blanket.

“We don’t have to play kickball if you don’t wanna. We can read books together or play hopscotch, or whatever you wanna do,” you tried, but no matter what you said Spencer wasn’t happy.

“They put me in middle school this year. I won’t see you at all,” Spencer sighed, staring at the thread in his hand. “They said I was too smart for elementary school.”

“Well, you are,” you answered, knocking his arm with yours. “You’re the smartest person in the whole entire world.”

“That can’t be true,” Spencer said, finally laughing for the first time since coming to your hideout. “I’m only seven, and there’s so many adults who are smarter.”

“Well, I’m older than you so what I say goes,” you told him matter-of-factly. 

You knew sometimes Spencer got sad when people talked about his brain. Your dad said it was because it’s a lot of pressure being so smart. That was the trouble with being so brilliant, you supposed. He was constantly being pushed forward and told to hurry up and do all the great things the adults wanted from him. Sometimes, you wanted to kick them all the shins and tell them to leave your best friend alone. He had so much time to be great, so why couldn’t he just be your friend right now? You wanted to, but you knew your mom wouldn’t approve so you never did it.

Instead, all you could do was support Spencer through whatever the adults were having him work on.

“I just…do you think we’ll be friends still?” Spencer asked then, practically crumbling your heart into pieces then. “We won’t ever see each other.”

“We’ll have to see each other,” you told him. “Every day after school, come here. We can do our homework and you can tell me all about being a middle schooler. I’ll bring blankets and snacks, and you can help me with my math homework.”

“Deal,” Spencer said with a grin, placing a bookmark between the pages of his book he’d been pretending to read. “You’re learning long division this year.”

“I know, and I still say I won’t need any long division to be a movie star.”

“What if you decide you don’t want to be a movie star?”

“That’s silly, Spence,” you laughed, resuming your drawing in your notebook. “Of course I’ll be a movie star.”

The two of you fell into quiet then, but you didn’t mind. Sometimes you could sit like this with Spencer for hours, both of you working on separate things but enjoying each other’s presence nonetheless.

“I’ll miss you this year,” Spencer said to break the silence. His face was all twisted up with an emotion you didn’t know but felt too heavy for someone so little.

“I’m gonna miss you too,” you answered, your voice a little higher in pitch as you fought to hold onto the joyous feeling of being with Spencer rather than the idea of being without him all year. You didn’t want to imagine the school without him, walking the halls without seeing that mop of curls or playfully sticking your hand in front of the pages of his book at lunch to get his attention. You didn’t want to think about having to make new friends, and you definitely didn’t want to think about Spencer having to do the same. Because you were outgoing and loved talking to people, but Spencer definitely didn’t. He was shy as your dad said, and that was okay but it meant he needed you around to help make friends for the both of you. 

Just as you screamed to the world how much you loved Spencer Reid, he quietly did the same every day. Sticking so close to your side at street barbecues that his arm constantly bumped yours, holding your hand after you stood up for him in the hallway, telling you that you were the prettiest girl he’d ever seen when he caught you crying over something another girl had said about your hair. You wondered who would keep him company in the cafeteria now that he’d be in the middle school building, or protect him from stupid bullies in the hallways.

“What if I don’t fit in?” he asked, watching you with near tears in his eyes. “I don’t know how to be a middle schooler.”

“My cousin is twelve, and I talk to her all the time,” you announced then, determined to come up with a wonderful solution to his problem. “And you know what she said?”

“What?”

“She told me that Hannah Walkins had her first kiss in middle school and she was the coolest girl in school.”

“What does that mean?” Spencer asked, and you sighed dramatically as if it should have been obvious.

“It means, that if you get your first kiss in middle school then you’ll be cool and popular!”

“But who would I kiss? I don’t know any girls,” Spencer said.

“Um, hello? I’m a girl, Spence!” you shouted, waving your arms around at the clear skip over you. “You could kiss me!”

“But you’re my best friend!”

“Right, so you know I don’t have cooties,” you countered immediately.

“All girls have cooties,” Spencer corrected, “I asked my dad and he said so.”

“Well your dad’s wrong,” you said. “You know what? I dare you to kiss me!”

And this, the gauntlet was thrown. You knew Spencer didn’t have to accept your dare, but if he didn’t then he’d be the biggest weenie for not doing it. The last time one of you didn’t accept a dare was when you refused to pick a book from the library outside of the kids section, and he hadn’t stopped teasing you for a whole week after. It felt like an easy solution to helping Spencer calm his fears about fitting in with the middle schoolers, all he had to do was take it. 

You stayed still as Spencer worked up the courage. Your heart raced as Spencer began to lean in closer, wondering quickly if this was one of those things your mom would gossip to her book club about if she found out. The second you felt his lips on yours, you squealed and leapt from the blanket.

Immediately you could feel your cheeks heat up as you shrieked, “Oh my God, ew!” You both were laughing while you each wiped off your lips, trying to forget that any of that had just happened. 

“So gross!” Spencer whined, “I’m never kissing you again.”

“Good,” You agreed. How did people in movies ever want to do that kind of thing? It was so gross!

Once the excitement of the moment died down, the two of you ended up lying together on the blanket. The sun was beginning to set, which meant you’d have to walk back home to make it in time for dinner. But you could have a few more minutes with your best friend, hoping that you’d at least calmed some of his nerves about school.

“Thanks, Y/N,” Spencer told you. “You really are my best friend.”

“That’s what besties are for, Spence, I’ll always be there when you need me,” you said back. “As long as you promise never to kiss me again.”

Spencer laughed and held onto your hand then, squeezing it as if to say once more that you were his best friend. As the two of you walked, your hands slipped until only your pinkies were held onto each other, a constant tying you together even as you faced the new school year without him. 

“I promise.”

[steddieas-shegoes]

for charity

for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'formal'

all of my holiday drabbles will be from the bear hugs universe. many of them could probably be read standalone, but will make the most sense and be enjoyed best if you read that first!

rated t | 495 words | cw: a little sexual tension | tags: pre-steddie, banter, flashback

🤵🏻🤵🏻🤵🏻🤵🏻🤵🏻🤵🏻🤵🏻🤵🏻🤵🏻🤵🏻🤵🏻🤵🏻🤵🏻🤵🏻

“It’s literally for charity,” Steve groans. “Just put on the suit!”

“It’s itchy!” Eddie argues. “And the pants are weird.”

“The pants are weird.”

Steve is looking at him like he’s grown an extra head. It’s not the first time and won’t be the last.

“They fit like pj pants but aren’t pj pants material so when I sit and walk, everything chafes,” Eddie explains calmly.

“You don’t have a choice,” Steve holds up the pants. “It’s only for a few hours.”

“A few hours of torture!” Eddie whines as he takes the pants from Steve. He strips his sweatpants off and pouts.

He can feel Steve’s eyes on him as he pulls the slacks on, buttoning them up and hoping he can get away with not wearing a belt. No one said anything about belts being required.

“You didn’t tuck in your shirt,” Steve says as he walks up to him, not quite hiding the fond smile breaking out across his face.

“I refuse.”

Steve rolls his eyes and tugs Eddie closer by the waistband of his pants. He stuffs the shirt into them, sloppy at first, then slowing down so he can make sure it looks right.

He’s too focused to notice Eddie’s face going red, to hear his quiet gasp at the feeling of Steve’s hands against his waist. They’ve always been touchy with each other, but this feels intimate, different.

“There.”

Steve’s hands are still at his hips, gently resting as he finally makes eye contact with Eddie. He looks proud of himself, and Eddie thinks now is the perfect time to kiss him.

Except it isn’t. They have to be at this charity ball for the children’s hospital in less than an hour. If Eddie kisses him now, they won’t make it to the event.

They’ll either be too busy doing other things or Eddie will be going into the witness protection program for ruining his friendship with Steve.

Eddie breathes in, forces a smile, and pulls away.

“Fine. You win. I look great.” Eddie laughs and it almost sounds normal. “I suppose you expect me to wear those god awful shoes too?”

Steve looks down at his feet and crosses his arms. “You can’t wear your sneakers. Or boots.”

“The boots were just cleaned though!”

Steve rolls his eyes, but Eddie knows it’s not real annoyance. If it was, he would have stopped arguing and walked out of the room a while ago.

“The nice shoes.” Steve steps closer and arranges a strand of Eddie’s hair, moving it behind his ear. He steps back. “We leave in ten minutes. Don’t forget your phone.”

Eddie gulps.

He has no idea how he’s gonna make it through this night, especially not when he watches Steve walk away and sees the way his pants fit his ass.

He’ll have to keep his indecent thoughts in the back of his mind yet again.

Maybe someday he’ll be able to say them out loud.

[milliesfishes]

Hope you are having a GREAT DAY. Re read your fics multiple times omg. My ideas for requests would be either your take on a verbal fight happening with Billy and then the groveling and making up that comes after

Or reader witnessing Billy getting having to be violent and him worried that they’ll be scared of him now 😭😭😭😭

thank you so much bb love u ౨ৎ꣑ৎyou and billy have a fight౨ৎ꣑ৎ fem reader x billy the kid

Your breathing was heavy, your hair tangled and skin sweaty as the waves of euphoria crashed over you. Tilting your head back, your arm fell over your head, breasts heaving. Billy, who'd been holding himself above you with his forearms, let himself collapse into you, his head resting on your chest.

He was sweaty too, and when he lifted his head, you saw some of his curls were stuck to his forehead. Billy smiled tiredly, taking your free hand and kissing the fingers. Then he rolled off of you, still lying on his side and facing you. Your eyes were fixed on the ceiling, but you could feel his on you.

Billy's arm found its way over you, thumb running up and down a little patch of skin. It was soothing, and you closed your eyes briefly, your heart still pounding.

His eyebrow quirked. Usually, you were so cuddly after sex. But today you were quiet, pulling the sheet up to cover your chest, one arm still flung above your head.

Settling in beside you, he kissed your shoulder, nudging his chin there. "You okay baby?"

Nodding, your eyes didn't leave the ceiling.

Billy sat up on his side, leaning on one arm and looking down at you, frowning. "Are ya sure?"

"I'm fine," you insisted, your hand fisting the sheet over your chest.

He reluctantly relented, despite knowing you weren't being truthful. Billy laid back down beside you, sliding his arm under your body and pulling you closer. Your position remained, keeping your arm where it was and your hand holding the sheet. He propped his chin up on your shoulder, exhaling softly, seeming to decide on telling you something.

"I've gotta leave again in the mornin'," he mumbled, looking over your face to gage a reaction. Your expression was unchanging, but you closed your eyes for a second, nodding.

Then, unexpectedly, you sat up fully, his arm remaining on the bed behind you. The sheet was abandoned, and you drew your knees to your chest, aware that your body was still bare. Your chin rested there, your hair falling over your shoulders and brushing your calves.

Billy watched you do all this before he sat up next to you. He'd known this would upset you. His hand came to your back, rubbing it in slow circles. "I know, I know I just got back, but I...I can't stay 'round for too long. These jobs Murphy's got us doin', they're takin' us all over the county."

You were numb to his explanation, and you turned to him, your legs falling flat on the bed, hands in your lap. "How long this time?"

He hummed, thinking about it, using his fingers to brush your hair behind your shoulder absentmindedly. "A week. Maybe two."

Looking down again, your fingers flexed. "And then what, you'll be back for another day and gone the next morning?" You'd known he was going to leave again soon. It had been on your mind all night. "You weren't even back for half of one this time."

He was surprised at you. Leaving as often and for as long as he did bothered you, he knew, but he hadn't known it bothered you this much. "Sweetheart...y'know this is what I hafta do. I gotta work, so we can really be together someday-"

"And what happens when we are together?" you asked, turning to look at him. "We'll always need money. Are you gonna keep leaving then too?"

Billy's hand fell from your back. "Where's this comin' from baby? You never had a problem with my work before."

"I'm tired of it!" the desperate words fell from your lips before you could think about it. "You leave for weeks then come into town for a few hours. It's the same every time. You ride in, send me a message, sleep with me, and then you're gone again."

Astonished at your outburst, he ran a hand over his face tiredly. "Dunno what ya want me to do baby, I can't control when Murphy wants me to go out."

Your knees bent again, and your elbows were propped up on them, your fingers curled into your palms and resting on your forehead. Eyes falling to the tangled bedsheets, your whisper was pathetic. "What am I doing?"

"Baby-" he shook his head, putting one hand on the side of your knee. One of his legs was bent, his other arm resting on it. "I'm trying, you gotta believe me. This is the best I can do. Murphy's payin' the best money I can get for my work-"

"That's not true," your hands fell from your face. "You told me about Tunstall."

"We've been over this." Billy sounded exasperated. "Can't leave the gang."

"You could though," you insisted, sitting on your knees now and facing him. "You could, and you'd be doing honest work for more, and you wouldn't be away so much-"

"Stop." His voice was firm, final, and you were taken aback. He'd never used a tone with you before. "You know the boys've done a lot for me. I ain't leavin' 'em."

"But you'll leave me?" your words were small.

Billy sucked in a breath frustratedly, shaking his head once, keeping it turned to the side. He closed his eyes and raised a hand to his forehead, rubbing it as he tried to compose himself. "Baby...I ain't expectin' you to understand. You're too innocent, you don't know the things I've seen-"

"Innocent?" The usage of the term was a barb. You looked up at him, your doll eyes worried. "But I'm not...I'm not innocent."

He turned his head back to face you, a confused frown gracing his features. "What're you on about... 'course you're innocent."

"But we've..." you gestured down to the scene, to your bare bodies and messy sheets. His eyes followed your hand, and his face clouded with understanding, moving closer to you as he realized.

"Baby," he started, putting his hand on your thigh. The weight of it was warm. "Makin' love don't take your innocence away. You're mixin' up innocence 'n virginity."

"But..." you shook your head, crossing your arms over your breasts, feeling shy suddenly. "It isn't...it's not..."

"It ain't a sinful thing if you do it for the right reasons," he said gently, rubbing your thigh soothingly. "It's a natural act honey...not a bad thing when it's with someone you love. Like when we do it."

You felt stupid, looking down as it washed over you. It couldn't...it was so confusing. Everyone had always acted like it was some dangerous thing that would make you horrible if you did it. What kind of cruel secret was this? Making you feel foolish, making you feel like you should've somehow already known.

Billy could see your internal battle, and he tilted your head up with his palm on your cheek, his eyes reassuring. "Baby...the kinda innocence I'm talkin' about is in your soul. You're a good girl. Ain't ever done anythin' bad to no one. That's what makes you innocent. And I love that about you, okay? There's nothin' to be ashamed of. Not with me."

How he was saying it made sense, but you still felt embarrassed for not knowing. Your eyes fell from his face. He exhaled softly, seeming to know you were beating yourself up. "It ain't your fault you didn't know. Don't do that."

"I'm innocent," you repeated. "I'm too innocent to understand you?"

Billy winced as you recalled his words from earlier. "That was a poor choice 'f words. You just...you're...you're..."

"What?" you searched his eyes, worried over what he was going to say next.

Billy opened his mouth, then closed it, sighing. His shoulders slumped. He raised both his hands to your face, thumbs stroking the sides of your face, a half-smile turning his lips up slightly. "Beautiful. And kind. And good. You're my angel."

Your eyes pleaded with him. "Billy."

"You really felt like this the whole time?" he asked, concernedly tracing a finger down your cheek. "Musta been eatin' ya up inside..."

"It's fine," you shook your head, wanting to rid yourself of embarrassment. "It's...I..."

Billy sighed, clicking his tongue. The backs of his fingers pressed against your fingers, and he pushed your hair from your face. "All this time...you coulda..."

Could have told him. You couldn't have. Not with him slipping in and out of your life like a needle running out of thread, dipping over and under fabric. He stopped himself before he could say the rest, realizing his mistake.

"I don't wanna leave you baby," he promised in a whisper, looking down into your eyes. "I hate it, you know. Always feel like I'm usin' you, sleepin' with you and then hittin' the road again."

Tears pricked your eyes at his words. Because that was how you felt sometimes too, though you felt guilty for it. It obviously wasn't true. But that didn't erase the feeling.

Billy could see all this on your face, and his expression saddened. He leaned in, kissing your forehead. "'M sorry." He kissed your cheek. "'M so sorry baby." Then your other cheek. "'M sorry." Your nose. Then your lips, capturing them and leaning against you. "Don't deserve ya...I know that."

You sniffled, feeling overwhelmed. Billy noticed, pressing his mouth to yours again, his kiss gentle. He pulled you into his arms, his big hand pressing your head into his chest. It was then that your tears fell, everything swirling inside you like a never-ending storm. His lips dropped to the top of your head. "Kinda man am I, huh? M' sweet baby's cryin' causa' me."

A little sob escaped you, and he tensed slightly, rubbing your side. Now that your tears were falling, it seemed they wouldn't stop. Billy arm remained around you protectively as your body shook. "I know...I know pretty, I know."

"It's been so hard Billy," you choked in a broken whisper. "All those nights in between...some of them we didn't even talk, just..."

Crashing through the door. Kissing, touching. Waking up alone.

He nodded, squeezing you tighter and kissing your head again. "'M sorry sweetheart. 'M so sorry." Billy pulled you away slightly so he could look into your eyes, holding the sides of your face. "'M gonna do better for you. This ain't worth it if it's hurtin' you." He thought for a moment, resting his chin on your forehead as he did. "Maybe I can sit this next job out. Figure out what to do next."

Billy didn't make promises he didn't keep, and this whispered one against your hair lit a candle in your heart. "You will?"

"Yeah," he whispered comfortingly. "Maybe I can..." he exhaled, then nodded. "I'm gonna go talk to Tunstall."

You searched his eyes in disbelief. "Really?"

He smiled fondly, rubbing your cheeks with his thumbs. "Yeah baby. I shoulda done that awhile ago. The boys'll do just fine without me."

"It's a big change Billy," you murmured. Even though this was what you wanted him to do, you were worried about the repercussions. "Murphy-"

He shook his head. "Doesn't matter. He's gotta understand. I got my girl to think of." Billy nudged his nose against your forehead, then kissed it. "I needa keep the girl I got to think of. 'N doin' the long jobs he gives the gang ain't gonna help with that."

You smiled softly, throwing your arms around his neck, holding him close. "You'd do all that for me?"

"Yeah," he breathed, rubbing your back. "I was supposedly doin' these jobs for ya to begin with. But we're gonna change things up. Make it all better."

Billy kissed your forehead as the last of your tears dried. "It's all gonna be better."

come talk about billy here!

[tgarrett26]

His Bunny

Billy Loomis x fem!reader

Warnings: Grinding, almost oral, unprotected sex, subtle sub/dom dynamics on both ends (yes, a little bit of submissive Billy),

I’m not really ever comfortable writing smut, but I had to get this out and this collab is the perfect opportunity.

“What’s your favorite scary movie?” is the question I’m asked

“Whichever one has you in it, Honey.” I say with a smile

Within a few seconds, the voice from my phone steps out from my closet for me to see one Billy Loomis with his crazed smile.

“That’s my girl.” he says scruffily

He extends his left arm out toward me, his left hand coming to grip my chin in a loose grasp.

“I’d be in all your movies, Bunny. Any kind, any time.” he adds smoothly

I lift myself up on my toes, bringing my arms around his neck and shoulders. Looking at him, I can’t help but lean in to give him a kiss. It becomes many pecks [and slathered kisses] until I’m having to pull myself away.

“Even the rated ones?” I tease

“All the rated ones. They’ll have to form a new genre just for us.”

“Naughty boy.”

He laughs joyously with a sparkle in his eyes at the way I stare up at him, the way I always have which is a mix of admiration and and being mesmerized.

“You act as if we’ve been involved, Billy.” I tell him softly

Though, his grip around my middle and the way his fingers tease my sides make me wish we had been.

“Trust me, I would remember you above any others if we were, Bunny. I just get my hopes up in seeing if you’ll let me in.” he expresses

“You’re in, Lumie. You just gotta wait to go any farther.”

“I’ll take you over Prescott any day.”

“You’re not just sayin that?” I ask carefully

“I wouldn’t wait like this for anybody else. And as we’ve done a few things..they’re things I wouldn’t do for her; not even with her.”

“What else?”

“She doesn’t let me put my hands on her, even just to rest my hand on her leg or my legs over her though if we’re sitting next to each other.” he adds

I tilt my head down in attempt to hide the way my face is reddening due to my thoughts.

“What?” he asks while he tries tilting my head back up to look at him with his finger

“It’s just that..I don’t blame her for being so unsure and uncertain especially due to what happened to her mom-only so long ago, to add. But I always want your hands on me.”

“I love that about you. And I love having my hands on you, plus I think you like having your hands on me too.”

“I do..” I add quietly

“I hope to hear you say that at the altar someday.”

“Really?”

“I’d hate myself if I lied to you, pretty girl.” he states and nods

I gasp and jump to hug him, taking into account the texture of his sweater-type shirt that I love so much. It reminds me of the sweater I borrowed from Casey last winter (luckily, I remembered to give it back recently).

“You gonna let me in tonight, Bunny?” he asks and gestures to my room

“You already came through the window.”

“I know, but that doesn’t mean I’m invited in.”

I can’t hold myself back, so I place pecks all over his lips, chin, and neck. He releases a grumble that shakes my insides, especially when he pulls my hips to meet his.

I smash my lips to his, causing myself to fall dizzy while he smiles and reciprocates. He leads me to my bed, his right hand pressed to my spine and ribcage while his left hand is grasping my hip so I won’t fall.

When we get onto my bed, he’s on top of me while I’m just panting and kissing him the best I can keep myself up with. We pull away long enough for me to point to my wall for him to sit up against it, leaning his back into it. I crawl over his legs and straddle his hips, putting my hands on his shoulders while his hands naturally fall to my hips.

I slowly sit myself down on top of his jean-coated legs and rub around with my hips, Billy intently watching where our clothes meet in the midst of our hormonal mess. His large hands keep a tight grip on my hips, helping me to press a pressure against his lap while I dig the base of my pelvis against the front of his.

His mouth is gaping open since his head is tipped back and my head is tipped back, though I’m smiling instead. His hands are easily grinding me to him, but my arms are thrown into the air like I’m riding a rollercoaster instead of my boyfriend.

I finally place my hands on his shoulders again, bouncing myself up and down on his lap for his gaping mouth to open wider.

“I wan-I wanna.” I whisper with a gasp

“You wanna what, Bunny?”

“I wanna f*ck you. I wanna f*ck you so bad.”

“Please do.” he eases in the same tone

He presses his hand to my tailbone once again, using it to pull my pelvis towards his chest until my chin is inches above his head. I smooth my hand over his head, slicking back his already sleek hair until he tilts his head back to look to at me. I lower myself so our lips out on each other’s, locking the way they were meant to.

After not enough seconds of it, he pulls his face from mine to stare my eyes down to death.

“What are we gonna do, Pretty Girl?” he asks with a gulp from practically panting into my mouth

“What do you wanna do?”

“This is about you. But I wanna worship you. I want to possess every millimeter of your body with my lips, with my mouth entirely.”

“You mean it?” I check

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Animals of prey don’t usually praise their prey.”

“Most prey don’t deserve to be appraised, they’re only worth the chase.” he mentions

“Am I worth it?”

“You’re worth it all, Babydoll. The chase-but most importantly, the catch.”

This has me smiling, queuing him to cup my jaw in his hand with his thumb and middle finger into the ridges of my cheeks above my jaw. His eyes boring into mine the way we did before I introduced myself to him last year.

“I know I belong to you.., but you don’t belong to me, do you?” I realize aloud

“I’m yours. I’m yours to nurture and kiss, I’m yours to toy with and break. I’m yours to play with and enjoy. I’m yours to spend your time with and absorb.”

From his words, I lean against him with my entirety. I pull my arms around his neck and lean my head on his left shoulder, tipping my head to his to meet his lips. I give my all in energy to this kiss, leaning into him and loving into him the way I always want and he always lets me.

My chin nudges his while out tongues delve into the other’s mouth, exploring the walls of a part of us that strengthens the other so. I fall so into it, I could fall asleep this way; I feel I could belong right in this spot. Before I can lose myself entirely to this, he lazily pulls my jaw from his to where his eyes seep into my own.

“Where’d you learn to kiss like that, Pretty Girl?” he asks me

“I just gave into what felt right. Did all I wanted.”

“If you do that every time, I won’t ever be able to leave your bed.”

“Then don’t.” I challenge

He chuckles knowingly, that infamous smirk on his lips.

“I won’t. Not yet.” he assures

“Good.”

“Good?”

“Yeah.” I tell him and smile tiredly

“Why? You got somethin planned?”

“Nothing specific, just a few [find a word].”

“And what does that entail?” he wonders

I roll my body on his, worming it to a soft grind against his torso. I move my left hand from behind his neck to go under his shirt, dragging my fingertips up his bare stomach and chest-a place I always want to be.

“Feels like you have something specific in mind.” he hints while dragging a gentle hand up my forearm, his fingertips grazing the sensitive skin there

“Nothing specific, I promise.”

“Then what?”

“Just a few intentions is all.” I admit

His abdomen tightens as my hands rub over it, finding a sense of arousal in myself being led on by the contact somehow. I swipe my thumb over his belly too, so carried away in how beautiful he was created to be that I lay kisses to some of the skin there.

His head falls back, his left hand swiping over the back of my head gently. I feel urged on to continue, so I place slow and sensual kisses to each part of his abdomen (even his hips and sides) until I’m slinking down to his waist. I dart my eyes in his direction, my fingers on the brink of grasping his waistband.

“Uh uh.” he says connivingly while shaking his head

I lean my head down and kiss just above the waistband of his pants, using my hand’s placement on it to pull them down just enough to place my lips a little lower. He lets out a heavy exhale, one that pulls a smile from me. I (very) slowly place deep kisses to each area of his waist/pant line to where I feel his legs shiver under me.

“What? I can’t be the tease?” I ask when it comes to moving his underwear out the way

“You’re always the tease.”

I tug the line of his underwear down, softening the pressure of my lips on his skin the more sensitive the area is. His hips buck up a few times, but I put my arms on his legs to hold them down while I just sit and appreciate his outsides.

“Y/n..” he warns when my chin grazes his pubic hair

I tug his underwear down til they’re being held on just by his butt and growing length. I lean back down and continue placing kisses down the curve of his hip and thigh, tracing his v-line with my lips, one side at a time. His thighs tremble and twitch while I enjoy taking my time impressing myself at how I’m going about this.

I suckle at the skin carefully, gaining moans from him with such little effort. I flicker my gaze to him before bringing it down his body at a pace that could burn. He puts his left hand around the back of my head to hold it in place, grinding his bulge against the side of my face. But I smack his wrist away and pull his shorts down to his ankles at a taunting speed, freeing his tension while giving me access to the entirety of his v-line so I can suck at the thin skin of him.

When I get to the part of that area where his thigh is boring into the side of my head, I nip at the skin until he’s writhing above me. I give two gentle kisses to the inside of his thigh before I bite down harshly, but kindly on the skin near his taint. This triggers a lurch from him, throwing his body almost over my head while a heavy grown leaves his throat.

“I’m not done yet, Baby.” I murmur

He shakes his head, releasing pleas for me to stop and get him off.

I massage the insides of his thighs a little bit, moving my hands to the outer sides to loosen those up as well. After a few seconds, I nudge my nose through his pubic bush until I’ve nuzzled what eggs him on the most.

His has him skipping breaths and gasping quietly, that is until I’ve latched my lips and tongue around one of his balls. His falls silent once I fall into the mesmerizing depths of ball-sucking, only using my tongue and lips to cause any affect I can.

I lick one stripe of saliva up the sides of his shaft before going right back down to the base of it, attaching myself to his testes for as long as my breath can take it. I lick between them and under them, around them and beside them until I hear grunting and a stream of hot sperm shoots over my head (some of it landing in my hair) and on my feet since I’m kneeling but leaning towards him.

He pants til his breathing evens out, his face red and his stomach rising and falling at an erratic pace. When he’s pulled himself together enough, his right hand juts down to grasp my throat. He uses this grip to pull me to where he is, lying spread out for me to play with.

“What? You didn’t like it?” I struggle to get out

“That’s not the point. The point is that since you wanna play, I’m gonna ruin your perfect little pussy until you feel the way I just did. Alright? You’ve got your safe word, so I’m just gonna do my thing because you wanna play so bad.”

The menacing look in his eyes almost means nothing until he’s tearing my panties off my excited body. This motion helps get my legs over his thighs, setting my knees near his hips which allows him to rub his shaft against the lips of my entrance before his eyebrows are furrowed.

“Are you really not that wet from toying with me, Pretty Girl? What’s it take to please you, huh? What’s it take to impress you?” he challenges tauntingly

He does this while rubbing four fingers on my entrance, inserting two then three until I’m balanced on his hand. He pushes me up and down it with his suspiciously strong forearm while his left hand is still wrapped around my throat.

Within two seconds flat, he’s shoved himself all the way in me til my clit is an inch above touching his pelvis. He thrusts me up and down with his legs, pushing his hips up and down off the bay window to where I can feel the whole of him filling me completely.

“You’re not gonna get it like this anywhere else.” he grunts while bouncing us

“Don’t want it from anyone else. Just you.”

“Bouncing like the bunny you are, look at you go. Just hope you don’t get tired.”

“Won’t get tired, love being bounced on your cock.” I manage to mutter when my thighs touch his

“Got anything else you wanna say?”

��Don’t break me, Ghostface-I wanna f*ck you in the sequel.”